and here i come in the tag so you don't feel it's a birthday present but just a present


Pairing: RivaMika (Nase Family)

Author’s Note: Screw priorities. The temptation was too strong. For
                          fuku-shuu, whose tags are perf. Inspired by this.

There was a bounce in her step. A song on the tip of her tongue. A smile on her lips. Shining brilliance in her eyes. A look only a child with a mission would wear.

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(Not) A Day Like Any Other

It’s January 24th, 1979. You are tiny. Much smaller than all of the other babys in their beds. Your mom and dad are looking down on you while you smile up at them with bright green eyes, the colour of hope. They kiss you good night and tell you that “Angels are watching over you”.

It’s January 24th, 1981. You wake up to the sound of your mom singing. A few years later you will learn that the song she was humming is called “Hey Jude”. Instead of cookies or a slice of birthday pie, she serves you tomoato-rice-soup, because you are running a fever. She lies down right next to you and reads you a story until you fall asleep.

It’s January 24th, 1983. You remember your 4th birthday like no other, because it was the last one you had truly celebrated. It was the last one with her.

It’s January 24th, 1984 and it’s a day like any other. Your dad didn’t buy any presents or a birthday pie. He just sits at the kitchen table studying something you cannot make sense of while you rock your baby brother to sleep. When you go to bed that day, the tears come fast and they stay for a long time. You pull the pillow over your head so the sound won’t wake up Sammy.

It’s January 24th, 1986. Dad took you shooting for the first time. As a birthday present. When he told you and Sammy that you’d go on a trip for a short moment you had hoped he’d take you to Disney Land. You didn’t let your fear of holding a gun show. Especially not after Dad patted you on the shoulder, so proud of you for being such a good shot.

It’s January 24th, 1988. Dad’s on a hunt and he parked you and Sammy at Fred Jones’ place. The guy is funny. You watch cartoons together. When he realizes it’s your birthday, he feels guilty for not even having a slice of pie for you, so he hands you a beer instead. That night you’d experience for the first time how the entire room is spinning once you close your eyes to lie down.

January 24th, 1991. You can cook yourself and your brother a meal, you know how to shoot a gun and you know better than not to salt the doors and windows when your dad’s not around. You hadn’t expected for him to be home on your 12th birthday, but he was. It was the day you made your first sawed-off shotgun.

It’s January 24th, 1992. Your father wasn’t there on christmas and he wasnt there on your birthday. You try to tell yourself he just forgot it, but deep down you know, the hunt is more important than a kid’s birthday. The only present you’d get are the candy bars you know Sam stole when you two were going outside for a bit. When he hands them to you, wrapped in a handkerchief, you almost tear up. But you bite them back down, a boy doesn’t cry, that’s what dad always says. So you won’t.

It’s January 24th, 1995. You are at Sonny’s. At first you hated it, but then it wasn’t so bad. But you miss your brother, wish he could be here with you celebrating your birthay the way you two saw kids celebrate on tv. With stupid little party hats, loud music, presents and sweets.

It’s January 24th, 2001. It’s the first birthday you spent completely alone. Sam is at Stanford and your father god knows where. You celebrate alone - the same way you would the next 3 years: blackout drunk.

It’s January 24th, 2006. It’s the first time in years that you don’t spend this day alone. Sammy gives you shit for being tipsy around noon already and he rubs your back in the evening when you heave into the toilet.

It’s January 24th, 2007. It’s your last birthday and well, you celebrate it like it is your last one. You got Sam to drive out with you to Las Vegas and it would almost be fun, if there weren’t tears welling up in yours and Sammy’s eyes half the time.

It’s January 24th, 2008. You’ve been back for four months and nothing is like it was before. Your mother was right when she said “Angels are watching over you”. If only she knew they are also massive dicks. Thanks to Castiel, you have two birthdays to celebrate - or mourn - now. You don’t know if you should laugh or cry - it’s your 29th birthday here, but you have lived 40 more.

It’s January 24th, 2010. But you don’t know. Sam is gone and you are still here. It’s nothing to be proud of, it’s nothing to celebrate. You spend your days in a haze on Lisa’s couch. Beer has turned to liquor. And self control has turned to dust.

It’s January 24th, 2012. You spent the day with Sam and Bobby in Rufus’ cabin. Your leg is still in a cast and the furthest you have moved in the past couple of weeks was from the couch to the bathroom and back. Sam brought you pie. It tastes like ash in your mouth, but you eat it telling him “It’s best damn pie you ever had”, because you just want to see your brother smile for once. When Sam and Bobby have gone to bed you celebrate yourself to sleep with the doubled dose of painkillers and whiskey and maybe a prayer you know he can’t hear.

It’s January 24th, 2013. You have lost count of the days. You have lost count of time. You don’t know it’s your birthday. You forgot that day even exists, you even forgot your own name - here you are only “the human” - no need for individuality.

It’s January 24th, 2015. You turn 36 today. you never thought you’d make it this far. Well, if dad hadn’t sold his soul you hadn’t. When you take a look at everything that came after that, all your mistakes, you kind of wish you could turn back time and spare your brother and your best friend all the trouble. You turn 36 today and when you get up in the morning you feel like the 76 year old guy that you are. Every bone in your body aches, the mark screams. When you come into the kitchen, it’s decorated with balloons. A giant pie is sitting on the table. When Sam sees you walking in, he pulls you into a hug. For a moment the pain in your head subsides, the mark falls silent. “Do you want a slice?”, Sam asks. You just nod. Then your phone buzzes. It’s Cas.

“Hello Dean! :) Happy Birthday, old guy. :P Believe it or not, you are a rolemodel. :D I want you to know that we will find a way. I once gripped you tight and raised you from perdition and I would do it again. Every. Single. Time. Thank you for everything. <3 See you later!”

You feel the mark flaring up on your arm, you swallow hard, close your eyes. When you open them back up Sam is holding out a plate with pie for you. He is smiling. “I believe in you, Dean”, he says. “We’ll find a way.” And this time when you feel the tears roll down your cheeks, you just let them fall. This. This all you need. All you want. Sam, Cas and you. Family. That’s worth fighting for. You will.