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Silent Night

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Dec. 24th, 2009 | 01:38 am
mood: peacefulpeaceful

So this was from a prompt at the spn_hurtcomfort Christmas h/c commentfic meme.

Title: Silent Night
Prompt: From the lovely and talented roque_clasique:Deaf!Dean. Sam steps out for some eggnog and in his absence a bunch of carolers come to the door. They're little kids and Dean doesn't have the heart to tell them he's deaf, so he just lets them sing. Original prompt and my reply is here.
Spoilers: Spoilers up to 3.08. So, y'know, nothing recent.
Word Count: 3,042
Disclaimer: Kripke made me give 'em back because he said I was breaking his toys. Meanie.
Neurotic Authorial Disclaimer: No beta, no nothin'. Probably riddled with typos, malapropisms, and unhappy syntax. Proceed at your own risk.
Extra Neurotic Authorial Disclaimer: I am not deaf, nor Deaf. I know just enough about the culture to get myself in trouble. I also know that ASL has its own grammar and syntax, but I have no idea how to convey that in writing, so please bear with my excessive use of italics, mmkay?

:::ETA:::

riama82 has made some gorgeous, gorgeous fanart! It's included at the end of the fic, along with a link to her LJ. All hail riama82!

:::FURTHER ETA:::

elsewhere_kels has made a podfic of the story! Go here for the downloads. :)




There's nothing on television except for Christmas specials. The game ended a while ago, and Sam's been fidgeting ever since. It's one thing to sit around and pretend like it's a normal Christmas, but they're both going a little stir-crazy, cooped up in the motel room with nowhere to go. They're both still a little hyped up from that Christmas-meets-slasher-flick incident from before, and Dean is a little worried about the two corpses they left behind in that gingerbread-perfect kitchen. Not that anyone's going to find them before the holidays are over. He hopes. Sam's finger is bandaged, the only physical reminder of that little adventure, when Mrs. Carrigan (he still finds it hard to think of her any other way) yanked his fingernail from its bed by the root, a spot of blood on the white gauze. It must sting like a bitch.

Dean's a little buzzed, having gone through more than a couple of beers on an empty stomach, and maybe the fact that he's been amusing himself by tossing peanuts at his brother's head at irregular intervals has something to do with the fact that Sam is kind of in a pissy mood now. Maybe. Still, beer and boredom are a bad combination, especially after a hunt. If he could, he'd go out for a run, but the ground outside is slick with ice, and he has no intention of ending up with a broken leg because he slipped on the ice. Broken limbs don't happen, they are forced on you by supernatural badasses. He lies back on the bed, fingers laced behind his head, stares at the ceiling, mentally traces an outline around the water stain he can see creeping out from the corner of the wall, wonders just how big a fit Sam would pitch if he lights up a cigarette indoors. He doesn't want to go outside, it's winter and he likes his ass unfrozen, thank you very much. He suspects it would be a pretty big fit. Besides, he's almost out. He's going to have to pick up more tomorrow.

Sam gets up, taps him on the shoulder to get his attention. Dean looks up, sees that he's put on his boots, has on his jacket, though it's unzipped.

I'm going to the store, we're almost out of beer. I'll bring some takeout, too. Want something?

Eggnog?

What is it with you and eggnog lately?

It's Christmas. Eggnog's traditional.

Fine. I'll see what I can find. Is that it?


Dean gives him what he hopes is his most endearing grin. Cigarettes?

I'm not enabling your filthy habit.
Sam has to fingerspell “enabling,” which makes Dean grin even wider, though he suspects it probably doesn't look endearing anymore.

Loser. You should look up the big words before you try to use them.

Fuck you.

Bitch. I should never have taught you that sign.

I learned it on my own, jerk. Stay put, I'll be back soon.


Sam turns his back, and Dean throws another peanut at him to get his attention. Sam ignores him, because of course he's been throwing peanuts at him all evening just for kicks. Change of plan. Dean doesn't really like talking, not unless he's talking to a hearie who really can't communicate otherwise, because he's never entirely sure if he's talking at the right volume, but sometimes Sam leaves him no choice. Pain in the ass little brother that he is.

“Sam!”

Sam spins so fast it's almost funny, an apologetic look on his face for having turned his back, and Dean almost feels guilty. Instead he grins and signs again. Cigarettes?

Sam just rolls his eyes, zips up his jacket, and Dean knows he's won. You're awesome.

Whatever.

You know it's because you love me.

Bite me.


Then Sam is gone, and he's alone. He picks up the chocolate bar that Sam bought, turns it over in his hands. He's not really hungry, but it's chocolate. Not pie, but chocolate bars are pretty much next on the list after pie. He holds it by one end, tosses it in the air, catches it by the other end. Tucks it into his duffel bag, in case of a snack emergency, he tells himself. Definitely not for any other reason. You never know when you'll be out on the road one day with nothing between you and starvation except a chocolate bar.

He switches the TV back on, flips through the few available channels, finally finds one with closed captioning. It's Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer. Great. Animatronic puppets, and he can't even hear Burl Ives doing the narration, which is the only good thing about the whole production. That, and the abominable snowman. He's always liked the abominable snowman. Kind of like a really friendly monster that didn't need hunting, which was a nice change of pace. Too bad real life can't be like television.

He really needs a cigarette now. He glances at the clock, figures Sam is going to be at least another twenty, maybe thirty minutes. He's got plenty of time before his brother comes back and starts giving him eyerolls, sighs, and the smoking-is-bad-for-you bitchface. He pulls on his boots, grabs his jacket, feels for the slightly-crushed pack he keeps in the inside pocket.

The air outside is frigid, and before long the tips of his ears are tingling and his fingers are starting to freeze. He fumbles with the pack, sticks a cigarette in his mouth, nearly drops his lighter. Freaking weather. Whose idea was it to come out here in the middle of freaking winter, anyway? Oh, right. His idea. Shit. He takes a drag on the cigarette, blows the smoke through his nose, watching it mix with his breath in the cold air, grins as he contemplates figuring out how to blow smoke rings. It would totally bug the shit out of Sam, which adds a lot of allure to the prospect. Also, kind of cool.

He's coughing after his first attempt (okay, harder than it looks) when he realizes that there's someone else beside him. He whips around, startled, hates it when people or things (especially things) sneak up on him, exhales shakily when he sees it's just a kid. A cute kid, at that. A boy, probably about seven, all freckles and blue eyes under a too-big toque with a pompom. He has to get Sam one of those, it would be awesome. The kid, wrapped up in a scarf and one-piece snowsuit, is gesturing enthusiastically at him, but he can't make out a word, because the stupid scarf is in the way. Dean is about to get the kid to repeat himself when he turns away and waves frantically to a group of kids standing at another motel door, accompanied by a woman in her late twenties, all of them wrapped up against the cold. It looks as though they've just come out of another motel room, and he can't quite wrap his mind around what they're doing here.

The kids come sprinting over, falling over themselves in their excitement, followed closely by the woman —teacher, Dean decides, by the look of her, but young enough to still have that bloom of optimism that comes from watching too many movies about that one teacher who made a difference. She's cute, too, with big brown eyes, long lashes, and long brown hair held back with a clip. She's wearing earmuffs rather than a hat, and a woolen coat that flatters her figure rather than hides it. Her hands are encased in black stretchy gloves, making it impossible to tell if she's married. She arranges the kids in three rows, and he sees now that they're all holding identical red and green binders. There's a lot of shuffling and obvious signs of giggling and whispering, nudging and poking and more giggling before they're all sorted out and standing still again. Consummate professionals. It's only when the teacher turns back to him that he realizes she was talking the whole time, and he's missed most of what is probably the explanation for this whole circus. At least her mouth isn't behind a scarf.

“... how much it means to the kids to do this. It's really nice of you,” she's saying.

He grinds out his cigarette on the ground with the toe of his boot, flashes her a grin and makes a carry-on motion with one hand. He sees her give a count, one-two-three-four, and suddenly all the binders are open and all their mouths are moving in unison.

“God rest ye, merry gentlemen, let nothing you dismay!”

Christmas carols.

He almost laughs, bites his tongue. He leans back against the door jamb to the motel room, watches their faces, flushed with excitement, noses red from the cold, mittened hands clinging to their Christmas-themed binders. It's freaking adorable, and even though he's not exactly the sentimental type, he can't quite bring himself to tell them that their carols are, literally, falling on deaf ears. The song is a long one, and he amuses himself by watching their faces, seeing which ones stumble on the harder lines, which ones are standing up and singing confidently, and which ones are trying to fake their way through it. He suspects that they're probably not all in key, but it hardly matters.

There's a pause, and then they all shuffle a bit, trying to turn the pages of their binders without taking off their mittens. It's bitterly cold out, and he can see one or two of them stamping their feet to keep warm. Why on earth would anyone voluntarily go out on Christmas Eve when it's this damned cold out? Even he and Sam aren't that bad, unless there's a hunt involved. Christmas is a time to stay inside and be warm. The teacher smiles at him, starts to say something, then turns away again, making him miss everything, and he shoves his hands in his pockets, clenching his fists in frustration. The kids are singing again, though, so he figures she was probably telling him the name of the song.

“Silent night, holy night. All is calm, all is bright...”

At least he knows this carol, remembers it from when he was little and his mother used to sing it at Christmastime. Before. Sometimes it feels like his entire life consists of befores and afters. Before the fire. Before he landed in the hospital. Before his world went silent. Before Sam left for Stanford. Before Dad died. Before he made the deal. His face suddenly feels colder, and he realizes he's got tears running down his cheeks. He has to turn away, scrub at his eyes with the heel of his palm, feeling stupid for tearing up over a Christmas carol like a damned girl. He's never going to live this down, and now he really wants another cigarette, except he's got twelve school-aged children standing in front of him, all young and impressionable, bright-eyed and innocent, and he'll be damned before he starts showing them just how cool it is to smoke when you're a grown-up.

He takes a deep, shaky breath, turns back, sees the teacher watching him. She's got a look on her face that it takes him a few moments to identify as sympathy, and he wonders just what she's thinking of all this. What can she be seeing, after all, except some pathetic loser all by himself on Christmas Eve, smoking outside his motel room, with no company except the television? The look vanishes from her face, replaced by sudden embarrassment, and he realizes he's probably been telegraphing his anger, schools his face into a more neutral expression, shrugs sheepishly. Good job, he tells himself. Make the Christmas do-gooders feel bad. Way to get into the holiday spirit.

Headlights flood the motel parking lot for a moment, and the Impala pulls up in the space nearest the room. Sam hops out, doesn't look his way while he's pulling out the bags of take-out, trying to balance them and the beer at the same time. He makes his way carefully across the icy asphalt, stops a few paces away, looking more than a little nonplussed. Dean turns and grins at him, waves him over. Sam's got his hands full, so he stops in front of the kids, makes sure he's facing Dean and that the light above the door is illuminating his face.

“What's going on?”

Dean hopes he isn't talking too loud. It always gives him away. “What's it look like?”

Sam gives him a what-the-hell? look, then shrugs. “Open the door for me?”

Dean nods, unlocks the door and nudges it open with his knee, turns back to the carolers, who are fussing with their binders in search of another song. The teacher —he really has to find out her name— gives him a questioning look, but when he makes it clear he's not going anywhere she smiles and gives the kids another count. She's shivering in the cold, her teeth starting to chatter, and a few of the kids are starting to look a little frozen. He hopes they're headed home after this. No sense freezing to death for the sake of a few songs.

“Joy to the world, the Lord is come!”

Sam comes back out, leans next to him against the door, arms folded across his chest. He's smiling, though, and Dean knows he's in for a world of merciless taunting. Well, he's taken worse from Sam. He fingers the pack of cigarettes in his pocket, but figures he can wait until the kids aren't watching: no use setting a bad example now, after he's held out all this time. This carol is a shorter one, although he doesn't really remember the tune. He's kind of glad, at this point, doesn't know how he'd live it down if Sam caught him getting all emo over another song. Sam would want him to have a heart-to-heart, and then Dean would probably puke, and it would ruin Christmas.

The teacher says something to the kids when they're done, and they all chorus something that looks like “Merry Christmas and Happy New Year!” Or at least, that's what he hopes it is. She points to a large van sitting in the parking lot, and they practically fall over themselves running toward it, eager to be out of the cold and heading home to their families. She watches to make sure they make it safely, and when she turns back Dean realizes she's been talking again. What the hell is it with people not looking at you when they talk. He shakes his head.

“I'm sorry, I didn't hear you,” he says, trying to keep his voice at a normal level. “Can you say that again?”

She smiles, repeats herself, but her teeth are chattering even more than before, and he can barely make out more than a couple of words. Cat's out of the bag. Frustrated, he turns to Sam.

I can't make out a word. A little help, here?

She's saying thank you. I can't believe you stood here for however long and let those little kids sing without saying a word.

What? They were cute.
Dean allows himself a grin, and turns back to the teacher. “You're welcome.”

She's staring at him, horrified, and he feels his heart sink. “Oh my God, I'm so sorry... you... I didn't... why didn't you say anything?”

Sam interjects, signing at the same time for Dean's benefit. It's second-nature to him now, and neither of them think twice about it. “Don't worry about it. He's a soft touch, this one. He thought the kids were cute.”

She's squirming. “I just... if I had known...”

“Then I wouldn't have had the chance to get a free concert,” Dean says. “I could see what they were singing, even if I couldn't hear them. Besides, Sam here got to hear the last part of it, so it wasn't a total loss. Plus, I kind of liked the view,” he adds with a wink. He wants her to stop apologizing, can't quite figure out how to make her feel less awkward. Hell, he wants himself to feel less awkward, hasn't ever managed it with hearies. Maybe it's easier for people born Deaf, but he doubts it.

She stares, then suddenly throws back her head in a burst of laughter. “Cute and sneaky,” she says, moving so that he can see her face clearly, speaking a bit more slowly, letting him focus on her mouth. “I knew there was something about you. You guys in town for long?”

Sam shrugs. “A couple more days, maybe.”

She rummages in her purse, scribbles down a number and the name “Sharon” on a scrap of paper, hands it to Dean with a smile. “Text me? You're buying me a coffee to apologize for this.”

He salutes her, tucks the paper next to his cigarettes. “You got it.” Tries to ignore the vicious jab in the ribs from Sam.

“I have to get the kids home. I mean it about the text message. Don't forget, I know where you live.” Then she's off, skidding across the parking lot toward the van and the waiting kids.

Dean watches the van drive off, then turns to find that Sam's already gone back inside the motel room and is sitting on his bed, kicking off his boots.

Did you see that? I totally still have it.

Sam rolls his eyes, then pulls out two glasses and a carton of eggnog, and carefully fills each one. I can't believe you. Here. I went out into the howling arctic wilderness for this, so you'd better drink it.

He flops onto the other bed, accepts the proffered glass, spikes it liberally with the contents of his flask, and salutes Sam with it.

Merry Christmas. It's a little awkward while holding a glass of eggnog, but he switches the glass to his left hand and pulls it off. Sam shakes his head, grins back at him, returns the salute.

Yeah. Merry Christmas.




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Comments {161}

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roque_clasique

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from: roque_clasique
date: Dec. 24th, 2009 06:48 am (UTC)
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YAY.

Aren't you so excited to have your very own 'VERSE???

Because there will be more, right?

*pleads*

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ratherastory

(no subject)

from: ratherastory
date: Dec. 24th, 2009 06:53 am (UTC)
Link

God, woman.

Yes, yes there is definitely more. I've started writing a story (before I wrote this one), in which I re-write the damned pilot. Because apparently that's what my brain wanted me to do.

It's your fault, because the idea occurred to me after you mentioned deaf!Dean in that post of yours. My mind latched onto the idea, remembered that I took ASL lessons last year, and ran with it. I thought to myself: "Hey, what if Dean went deaf as a kid? I wonder how that would impact things?"

And then the plot bunny grew freaking huge FANGS and bit my ankle and wouldn't let go. Sheesh.

No idea when it'll be done, but it's getting written.

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greeneyes_fan

(no subject)

from: greeneyes_fan
date: Dec. 24th, 2009 07:04 am (UTC)
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Oh, this one was CUTE. Somehow you managed to put Sam-inflection into sign language, in writing.

And made me think of a couple of deaf students I had when I was working as a private math tutor (to my surprise, it actually worked better when we just did everything in writing, with no sign language interpreter.)

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ratherastory

(no subject)

from: ratherastory
date: Dec. 24th, 2009 07:07 am (UTC)
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Hee! Thank you. I'm glad I seem to have pulled it off.

I took an ASL course last year, and learned minimally what it was like to be both deaf and culturally Deaf.

A lot of Deaf people don't lip-read at all, and in fact prefer to communicate via writing. It made things a lot easier, rather than going through an interpreter.

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The Procrastinatrix

(no subject)

from: yasminke
date: Dec. 24th, 2009 07:25 am (UTC)
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I'm glad roque_clasique pointed us in this direction. Well done!

Look forward to reading more.

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ratherastory

(no subject)

from: ratherastory
date: Dec. 24th, 2009 07:32 am (UTC)
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Eep! That was fast!

Thank you. :)

I'm working on more, but it's Christmas and things are a wee bit busy here at Casa!Ratherastory. I'm sure I'll have more time to devote to it after the holidays.

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wave_obscura

(no subject)

from: wave_obscura
date: Dec. 24th, 2009 07:39 am (UTC)
Link

This is fabulous. That frickin' Rudolph movie is on for the 80th time and I was about to go put my foot through the TV, but this fic totally made my heart grow three sizes. Thank you. Can't wait for more. Mind if I friend?

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ratherastory

(no subject)

from: ratherastory
date: Dec. 24th, 2009 07:43 am (UTC)
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Friend away!

May I fangirl shamelessly at you now? I've been reading "Because of Houdini" and loving it (I've been commenting under my regular LJ name of mousme over there, in case you're wondering who the hell I am), and now I am all GIDDY that all these fabulous and talented people are commenting. *fans self*

I love the Rudolph Christmas special, and have a special place in my heart for Burl Ives. *hearts*

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kasman

(no subject)

from: kasman
date: Dec. 24th, 2009 07:55 am (UTC)
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What a cool little story. I really enjoyed that. :D

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ratherastory

(no subject)

from: ratherastory
date: Dec. 24th, 2009 07:57 am (UTC)
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Thank you! I'm glad you liked it. :)

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Callisto

(no subject)

from: callistosh65
date: Dec. 24th, 2009 08:58 am (UTC)
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So, so good! You've got a great touch with these two. The premise was such a cool one, and Dean shivering in the cold rather than saying something? Be still my heart.

Delighted to hear that this is now a verse.

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ratherastory

(no subject)

from: ratherastory
date: Dec. 24th, 2009 04:11 pm (UTC)
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Thank you!

It's very gratifying to know that people liked it. :)

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Hepcat

(no subject)

from: nwhepcat
date: Dec. 24th, 2009 09:02 am (UTC)
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I ♥ this very very much. And yes, I'd love more too!

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ratherastory

(no subject)

from: ratherastory
date: Dec. 24th, 2009 04:11 pm (UTC)
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Thank you!

I am writing more, but it may take a while, since I'm in the midst of holiday madness. :)

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paleogymnast

(no subject)

from: paleogymnast
date: Dec. 24th, 2009 09:51 am (UTC)
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This is one billion kinds of wonderfulness, with a added pang of season 3 angst casting an extra pall over the story. I would sooooooooooo love more of this!! :D Thanks for posting!

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ratherastory

(no subject)

from: ratherastory
date: Dec. 24th, 2009 04:13 pm (UTC)
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Can't have the boys without angst, eh?

Thank you for the lovely compliment, I'm glad you liked it. :)

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chiiyo86

(no subject)

from: chiiyo86
date: Dec. 24th, 2009 10:13 am (UTC)
Link

Hee, awesome. I've been looking deaf fics recently, in particular fics where one of the boys has been deaf since childhood. You're Santa Claus!

It's also a really cute Christmas story. Dean letting the cute little kids sing even though he can't hear them, aww. I was also amused by Dean throwing peanuts at Sam (especially when it comes back bitting him in the ass!).

I would be very happy to read more of this!

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ratherastory

(no subject)

from: ratherastory
date: Dec. 24th, 2009 04:16 pm (UTC)
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Thank you! There will be more, as soon as I finish writing it. It's going to be a lot longer than this little fic, so it's going to take a while before it's done.

I have never been Santa Claus before, it's kind of fun! :D

As for the peanuts, what else would a bored Dean do except find something to annoy his kid brother? ;)

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harrigan

(no subject)

from: harrigan
date: Dec. 24th, 2009 11:57 am (UTC)
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Gotta dash off to work (on Christmas Eve!) - but can't go without first pausing to tell you what an AWESOME way to start my day! I'm so glad you're writing in this fandom!

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ratherastory

(no subject)

from: ratherastory
date: Dec. 24th, 2009 04:18 pm (UTC)
Link

*beams*

Thank you!

Working on Christmas Eve sucks. :(

If it's any consolation, I have to work night shift on the 25th, 26th and 27th, and I'm also working over New Year's, so take heart! You are not alone. :)

Merry Christmas!

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primrose_1

(no subject)

from: primrose_1
date: Dec. 24th, 2009 12:12 pm (UTC)
Link

I love this! Deaf!Dean makes me happy, and you add Christmas Carolers AND Rudolph! It's a great day! Merry Christmas!

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ratherastory

(no subject)

from: ratherastory
date: Dec. 24th, 2009 04:20 pm (UTC)
Link

Thank you!

I blame roque_clasique entirely for this. Deaf!Dean hadn't even occurred to me until she mentioned him in a post, and as I told her yesterday, it became a plot bunny.

Then the plot bunny became rabid and grew huge freaking FANGS and bit me on the ankle and started worrying at it until I caved and started writing. :P

Merry Christmas to you too!

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a rearranger of the proverbial bookshelf

(no subject)

from: embroiderama
date: Dec. 24th, 2009 12:15 pm (UTC)
Link

So awesome! I love how Dean and Sam interact here, and Dean turning the awkward moment into hitting on the hot teacher was perfect.

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ratherastory

(no subject)

from: ratherastory
date: Dec. 24th, 2009 04:23 pm (UTC)
Link

Thank you!

No, really, thank you. I find that nothing turns me off a story faster than if the chemistry between the boys is off, so I always worry that I'm not getting it right when I'm writing them.

And yeah. The hitting-on-the-teacher thing was a spur-of-the-moment decision for me, but it worked out well, and I think it was in character, so. :)

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izzie7

(no subject)

from: izzie7
date: Dec. 24th, 2009 12:31 pm (UTC)
Link

Lovely! Convincing, touching, sweet with a hint of angst - looking forward to more!

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ratherastory

(no subject)

from: ratherastory
date: Dec. 24th, 2009 04:26 pm (UTC)
Link

Thank you. :)

What would Supernatural be without at least a hint of angst, eh? ;)

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felltoofar

(no subject)

from: felltoofar
date: Dec. 24th, 2009 01:05 pm (UTC)
Link

I totally love this!! The fact that your AN distinguished between deaf and Deaf totally sold me. I also appreciate your attention to detail, stating that ASL doesn't flow like spoken English, which is a very large misconception. It's more conceptual, with recipients or interpreters filling it in. When you see/hear very eloquent signing via interpretation, that comes from an extremely experienced interpreter. Took me years to turn my understanding of ASL into a functioning english sentence. In that vain, your italics were genius. We got to see ASL with a Dean and Sam filter!!!!

I'm going to throw in my vote of more more more more of this. Definitely needs to become a verse.

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ratherastory

(no subject)

from: ratherastory
date: Dec. 24th, 2009 04:33 pm (UTC)
Link

Yeah, I was *really* anxious about not getting that too wrong. Like I said, I know just enough to get myself into trouble.

I'm actually a French-Canadian, and French is my native tongue. It gets on my very last nerve when I see French in an English novel that has been poorly translated, especially in the "close but not quite" category.

So rather than try to convey the grammar and syntax of a language that I don't understand, I just wrote English-in-italics.

Anyway, I'm glad it came off well. :)

Thank you for the lovely feedback!

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hlr2002

(no subject)

from: hlr2002
date: Dec. 24th, 2009 02:51 pm (UTC)
Link

Here via roque_clasique's rec. Lovely story and so glad to hear there's going to be more :)

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ratherastory

(no subject)

from: ratherastory
date: Dec. 24th, 2009 04:47 pm (UTC)
Link

Thank you!

roque_clasique has unleashed the freaking apocalypse in my LJ. Not that I mind... ;)

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[meg]

(no subject)

from: earthquakedream
date: Dec. 24th, 2009 03:05 pm (UTC)
Link

This is just awesome. Heartbreaking but sweet and it's good to see that Dean's still got a way with girls even when he's deaf. I really hope you do write more. :D

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ratherastory

(no subject)

from: ratherastory
date: Dec. 24th, 2009 04:47 pm (UTC)
Link

Thank you!

Dean wouldn't be Dean if he wasn't a charmer. That's my take on it, anyway.

Yes, there will very likely be more. :)

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lelaro

(no subject)

from: lelaro
date: Dec. 24th, 2009 04:16 pm (UTC)
Link

this is an awesome story.
i sincerely hope that you make it a verse,
do you mind if i friend you to keep up with your stories?

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ratherastory

(no subject)

from: ratherastory
date: Dec. 24th, 2009 04:50 pm (UTC)
Link

Friend away! I am very flattered. :)

You can blame roque_clasique, but it's definitely turning into a verse.

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riama82

(no subject)

from: riama82
date: Dec. 24th, 2009 04:41 pm (UTC)
Link

Well, Roque asked very nicely so... here I am! Nudging you encouragingly! -_^

This was awesome! So heartbreaking and sweet. Way better than those crappy Xmas movies running on tv right now.

You voiced the characters perfectly. Even Deaf!Dean (with a capitol D) is credible. I'm soooo glad there's going to be more... ^-^

Happy Holidays!!!

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ratherastory

(no subject)

from: ratherastory
date: Dec. 24th, 2009 04:56 pm (UTC)
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Aw, thank you!

Roque has a LOT to answer for, but luckily it's mostly good. ;)

I have a soft spot for Christmas specials, to be honest. They make me all fuzzy inside.

I'm very glad I seem to have pulled off the boys' voices, even with Dean being Deaf (I decided on Deaf rather than deaf, but at the risk of rambling on at length, my current theory is that Dean is straddling both worlds, trying to fit in with his father's universe because that's what John wanted, and trying to make his own way now that John is gone. Or something.).

Fics in which the boys don't sound like themselves put me off like nobody's business, so I try to pay attention to my dialogue and inner monologues as much as possible.

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from: saschi212
date: Dec. 24th, 2009 05:11 pm (UTC)
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Awww, I love this! I'm all full of Christmas spirit now :) Sooo, I hear there's going to be more of this? SOON?? Haha

Thanks so much for this! Merry Christmas!

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ratherastory

(no subject)

from: ratherastory
date: Dec. 24th, 2009 05:13 pm (UTC)
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Always happy to spread Christmas cheer. *hands out eggnog*


There will be more, but after Christmas. It's a little busy around here these days. I write fast, but not THAT fast. ;)

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maychorian

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from: maychorian
date: Dec. 24th, 2009 05:23 pm (UTC)
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Ah, that was so very cute! Loved Dean's softness, though he can't help flirting, too. And Sam was such a good little brother, too. ♥

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ratherastory

(no subject)

from: ratherastory
date: Dec. 24th, 2009 05:30 pm (UTC)
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Thank you!

I think poor Sam doesn't get nearly enough credit for all the shit he puts up with from Dean, sometimes. ;)

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donutsweeper

(no subject)

from: donutsweeper
date: Dec. 24th, 2009 05:30 pm (UTC)
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oh this is awesome! More SEE than ASL, but still great, I love deaf!Dean and how sweet he was to 'listen' to the kids!

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ratherastory

(no subject)

from: ratherastory
date: Dec. 24th, 2009 05:33 pm (UTC)
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Yeah, I suppose it *is* more SEE than ASL, but I think that's due to the medium rather than the intent. I can't actually write ASL, I don't know how, or if it's even possible.


Thank you for commenting! Feedback = win. :)

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surevesta

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from: surevesta
date: Dec. 24th, 2009 05:37 pm (UTC)
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This is wonderful! An awesome read for Christmas! Dean really is a softie. :) Great job!

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ratherastory

(no subject)

from: ratherastory
date: Dec. 24th, 2009 05:39 pm (UTC)
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Thank you! It's really awesome to get all these nice comments. :)

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followingabdiel

(no subject)

from: followingabdiel
date: Dec. 24th, 2009 08:25 pm (UTC)
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You did a nice job with this story, and it was totally believable! I'm with roque clasique on this one--we definitely need more! Thanks for agreeing to go further with this--awesome job!

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ratherastory

(no subject)

from: ratherastory
date: Dec. 24th, 2009 09:02 pm (UTC)
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Thank you so much!

Yeah, Roque is nothing if not persuasive. ;)

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agent_jl36

(no subject)

from: agent_jl36
date: Dec. 24th, 2009 08:56 pm (UTC)
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I really really liked this! I must admit I am NOT a holiday story fan, I'm kinda a scrooge about that. But I am a fan of this and if you don't mind I would like to friend you so I can catch your upcoming fics!

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ratherastory

(no subject)

from: ratherastory
date: Dec. 24th, 2009 08:59 pm (UTC)
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Thank you. :)

I like my holiday stories with a side order of angst, thanks. :P

Friend away, it's always nice to have new people aboard.

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roque_clasique

(no subject)

from: roque_clasique
date: Dec. 24th, 2009 10:06 pm (UTC)
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haha holy shit i really did blow up your LJ.

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ratherastory

(no subject)

from: ratherastory
date: Dec. 24th, 2009 10:17 pm (UTC)
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I'll be sweeping up debris for WEEKS.

Luckily it's all good debris, so...

(I really need to stop procrastinating and finish wrapping these last gifts...)

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