TV Guide [Sam&Dean, PG ficlet]
Dec. 19th, 2014 04:04 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
badbastionI found this in my GoogleDocs, and I have no idea where I was going with it. So I'll just post it here as a slice-of-life ficlet. Bam!
TV Guide - pre-series, Sam & Dean gen, PG
Sam has a TV Guide. He found it outside in the courtyard of the little apartment complex John had dumped them in once Sam finished up his junior year. He has a TV guide, and he has a yellow highlighter pen and a green one.
They have a color tv that gets the three basic networks, plus three other ones that are in the Guide. John’s gone for, for however long, and Dean’ll be out job hunting, and Sam’s got nothing to do for a few days but read a few books and watch some tv.
Yellow highlighter for the ones he has to see. Green for the ones he’ll compromise on if Dean’s around and vetoes his choice. He’s got popsicles in the freezer and Kool-Aid in the fridge and cans of Spaghettios on the counter, and nothing else but time.
He flops onto the narrow couch and worms the remote out of the cushions, and he digs in for the afternoon, determined to steep himself in the pop-culture idiot box, just like every other kid his age.
An hour later, he’s desultorily sucking on a popsicle, sighing through his nose, because how can people seriously spend hours in front of a television every single day? Sure, he’s seen his share of sitcoms (growing up cooped up in motels had made sure of that) and sure, he likes a movie now and then (though it’s better when Dean takes them to see it in a theater) but he almost feels like he’s outgrown tv.
Which would make sense, seeing that he’s outgrown almost everything this year. John’s hand-me downs leave an inch of ankle or bony wrist. Hunting has lost any shine it might have once held. He’s even grown out of the wish that he’ll ever stay in one place long enough to make a friend.
He’s sulking and pining for a library within driving distance when the screen door slams and Dean stomps in, peeling his overshirt off and throwing it over the back of the couch.
“Hey,” Sam says, looking up. “How’d it go?”
“I don’t know. It’s a shitty little town.” Dean grabs a beer from the icebox, twists off the top and sends it pinging into the sink, and he downs half the beer in one go. “Hot as hell, too.”
“You see any bookstores?”
“I wasn’t looking. I’ll keep an eye out tomorrow. Geek.”
“Hey!” Sam gripes, but he doesn’t really mind; if Dean says he’ll look for bookstores, he’ll look for bookstores.
Dean finishes the rest of his beer and drops it into the trash.
the end
TV Guide - pre-series, Sam & Dean gen, PG
Sam has a TV Guide. He found it outside in the courtyard of the little apartment complex John had dumped them in once Sam finished up his junior year. He has a TV guide, and he has a yellow highlighter pen and a green one.
They have a color tv that gets the three basic networks, plus three other ones that are in the Guide. John’s gone for, for however long, and Dean’ll be out job hunting, and Sam’s got nothing to do for a few days but read a few books and watch some tv.
Yellow highlighter for the ones he has to see. Green for the ones he’ll compromise on if Dean’s around and vetoes his choice. He’s got popsicles in the freezer and Kool-Aid in the fridge and cans of Spaghettios on the counter, and nothing else but time.
He flops onto the narrow couch and worms the remote out of the cushions, and he digs in for the afternoon, determined to steep himself in the pop-culture idiot box, just like every other kid his age.
An hour later, he’s desultorily sucking on a popsicle, sighing through his nose, because how can people seriously spend hours in front of a television every single day? Sure, he’s seen his share of sitcoms (growing up cooped up in motels had made sure of that) and sure, he likes a movie now and then (though it’s better when Dean takes them to see it in a theater) but he almost feels like he’s outgrown tv.
Which would make sense, seeing that he’s outgrown almost everything this year. John’s hand-me downs leave an inch of ankle or bony wrist. Hunting has lost any shine it might have once held. He’s even grown out of the wish that he’ll ever stay in one place long enough to make a friend.
He’s sulking and pining for a library within driving distance when the screen door slams and Dean stomps in, peeling his overshirt off and throwing it over the back of the couch.
“Hey,” Sam says, looking up. “How’d it go?”
“I don’t know. It’s a shitty little town.” Dean grabs a beer from the icebox, twists off the top and sends it pinging into the sink, and he downs half the beer in one go. “Hot as hell, too.”
“You see any bookstores?”
“I wasn’t looking. I’ll keep an eye out tomorrow. Geek.”
“Hey!” Sam gripes, but he doesn’t really mind; if Dean says he’ll look for bookstores, he’ll look for bookstores.
Dean finishes the rest of his beer and drops it into the trash.
the end
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2014-12-20 12:07 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-12-20 07:57 pm (UTC)