Pharos by setissma

Slash.

Not a real story in the regular sense, because there’s no plot. It’s what I would call a ficlet, and I don’t usually read those because I like to read long and ficlets are just too damn short! This one clocks in at about 825 words, and I sigh as I say that because other than writing about stories I’ve read today, it’s more than I’ve written in days.

So okay, story is about Sam who goes off and leaves Dean in Atlantic City to search moodily for death/ghosts ships to tell him something. I’m not sure what. I don’t even think Sam knows. I’m about to throw my hands up and go, arg, 400 words in and I’m already lost!

And then Dean shows up. Saved by the bell! Dean shows up and says, “Don’t you run away from me.” Then he says, “You don’t run away from me.” And the change in emphasis in the second statement makes it very clear to me that the first is a request and a command all at once, while in the second, Dean explains to Sam, very clearly, who he is to Dean. Lots of dramatic, descriptive writing follows, very nice, watery stuff, and I’m still stuck on that line. “Don’t you,” and “you don’t.” Very Dean, that. The story ends with Sam telling Dean that he will save him, followed by a very enigmatic statement:

“We’ll make it, Sammy,” and Sam understands, has always understood, because he knows – for the first time, for the last time, for every time – how to bring Dean home.”

I love this sentiment, I just wish I knew what it meant. I don’t even know if the writer knows. Or maybe she does. My wish list this year would include a longer build up to that particular payoff. Otherwise, the ficlet is just that, a ficlet, rummaging around in my upstairs brain, looking for something to grab onto. Still, there’s some very powerful imagry here, and an amazing grasp of how to suck the reader right in. Â