B-Day 13: We celebrate! With Fic!
8/12/13 11:39 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
roxyToday we celebrate my birthday month *and* ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
firesign10's birthday! To celebrate and to thank her for the wonderful job she did on my BB this year, I gift her with a wee ficlet based in that verse. It's a little back story for one of the characters.
Happy Birthday, kid! ;)
Title: Pack
Author: roxy
Pairings/Characters: Sam Winchester, Israfil
Rating: PG
Word Count: 1645
Summary: a tiny bit of Iz's story
Warnings: intimations of abuse, set in the Cicatrix 'verse.
PACK
This kind of day came along only once in a while, and it was something that Sam looked forward to very much. It was a day that Uncle Luke was out; he would be gone all day and that meant freedom.
There was food in the dishes and water in the buckets and after training, their time was their own. Sam stretched out on his scavenged pile of blankets—stretched himself in one long line, pressing his toes against the bars at one end and pressing his palms against the bars at the other. His bones popped and muscles stretched and a lazy warmth washed over him. He rolled to his side, propped his head up on one hand and watched the kids who claimed Sam as their head. They were the kids who'd survive the next few fights because they were smart enough to know that not everyone could be top dog. And that wasn't a bad thing, if the top dog cared enough to keep his team members safe.
From behind Sam came the sound of claws skittering over concrete and Sam smiled when Israfil came chasing through the cages, tail sweeping the air and his long tongue rolling out in a doggish grin. He ran up to the bars of Sam's cage, bowed down and whined. Come out, his glittering yellow eyes seemed to say. Come play. he whined and danced for Sam to get up.
Sam smiled and shook his head. It was rare that he got a chance to just roll up in the blankets and sleep all day and he wasn’t about to give it up, not even for Iz. No, he signed, staying here.
Israfil managed a pout even with his thick, furred snout. He snorted in disgust and put his back to Sam, so Sam turned his attention to the rest of the kids. They were in a wide spot between the cages, sitting in a circle. They were playing a game of some sort that involved bits of sticks arranged in squares and stones, flat, round, light and dark ones. Sam had no idea what the point of the game was, but Iz had taught it to the kids who cared to know. 'Check', he called it, or something like that. Sam had no interest in it, but thought it was a good thing; it gave the kids something to think about besides yesterday, or tomorrow.
Iz let loose a long, dramatic doggie sigh and then shook himself—hard. By the time he stopped shaking he was a naked little boy, slipping into the open door of Sam's cage. He weaved his way around Sam's ragged piles of blankets and tipped into Sam's lap, twisting and turning and digging in until he was comfortable—totally oblivious to Sam's occasional grunts and breathy, little gasps of pain.
Iz raised his hands and his fingers flew, punctuated by the occasional soft word. Saw you talking to the crazy one the other day.
Hush, don't call him crazy. He's just…
"Crazy." Israfil's voice was rough with little use but it made what he said even funnier and Sam huffed a laugh.
"Well," Sam said, …maybe a little. But he has a lot of knowledge. He's smart and he's a wolf and wolves—they know how to survive.
Iz nodded. They're better at it than shifters. Shifters are too close to human. Their packs are not as—He spread and joined his long fingers. together. Werewolves almost have one mind. Iz sighed and shifted. He frowned at some point way beyond the cages. I didn't like my pack. This here with Uncle Luke is better.
Sam felt a deep wash of horror. He might not know any other life besides this one except in dreams, but even Sam knew this was no way to live, collared and caged and forced to kill each other for reasons Sam was never able to understand.
I didn't like my life before that pack either, Iz went on. Except when I was very little and my mother was still alive. She loved me but my dad didn't like me. I don't know why.
Sam made a small breathy sound meant to let Iz know he was listening. Iz seemed to remember quite a lot of his life before being owned…Sam wondered why he didn't. Maybe he just didn’t want to know the truth about himself, about whatever thing it was inside him that gave him the Owner's favor.
Iz rolled over Sam's lap, so that his belly was up and his legs hung over Sam's legs and his arms dragged on the floor. I remember my dad drinking a lot, that bad smelling stuff Uncle likes. And that he watched the TV a lot. Sam tilted his head. TV…? Iz was odd. He said odd things.
Iz reached up and grabbed Sam's ear, pulling and rubbing it lightly as he talked, gone in his own world. Sam let him talk—it was good for Iz. He was very soft inside, easy to hurt, that's what Ana said and Tami agreed. So Sam let Iz talk whenever he wanted to and after they usually did the hand thing and kissed a lot and Sam liked the kisses.
I had my own bedroom, there was always food, I went to school too, sometimes. Iz said, but he beat me. He told me lots of times he wished I was dead. I don't know why but I must have been doing something wrong. I usually do. One night, he took me somewhere I'd never been before, big buildings and dark streets. When we got to one place, he made me get out of the car and he chained me to a pole with a ring on it. At first I thought that it was a punishment so I tried to be very, very good and very quiet but it didn't matter, he just walked away.
A tremor shook Iz and Sam growled, imaging this soft person in the dark on a chain. Zack swung his head towards him, looked away when Sam shrugged. He'd been taken off guard. it was just that being chained was never a good feeling, Sam knew, and it must have been worse being chained some place you didn’t know.
Iz petted Sam's knee and said, I thought my dad came back but it was another man, a stranger. I thought he maybe might let me loose, but he grabbed me and tore my clothes and I thought he was going to fuck me.
Sam held Iz a little tighter and rubbed his cheek over Iz's bristly head.
He didn't. He bit me. And then sat on the ground close to me and watched.
"Why?"
He changed me, Iz said patiently, as if Sam was stupid. He waited to see if the change would kill me.
Sam jerked and Iz squeaked when his grip suddenly tightened. You weren't born this way? I thought you were always this way—how did you— Sam couldn't imagine living with a change like that.
My dad came back when the sun was almost up and when he saw me alive, he asked the man who bit me for money.
He sold you; he sold you to a shifter.
Yeah, Iz said, but my dad was an idiot, he trusted the shifter. Me, if I offered someone money for a kid to change, I'd bite the kid and then kill the person so I would have the kid and all my money. Right?
Sam nodded. It really was simple. Iz's dad must have been an idiot. But how did you end up here?
Demons. Raided the pack. Set fire to our house and killed the alphas and the beta, all the males and the females not nursing. They took them and the little ones, the kids, and then they took me to Uncle Luke and that was that. Two years, and I remember you were the first general I met.
Two years? That hit Sam hard… Only two years? But you had a whole life that wasn't *this*—
Iz shrugged. I hated them. I was glad they died. Except about the kids. And some of the women said the pack was sick—the alpha was crazy, worse than the one in the cage. What about you. How long has it been for you?
Sam thought, chasing the faint memories of another life. He shrugged. He only really remembered Uncle Luke. All my life, he told Iz. I've been here all my life.
Iz reared back, horror written in his expression. But…why? How?
Sam gathered Iz back in close. Don't know. Don’t care. My life was no better than yours.
Iz sighed and burrowed into Sam. Sam patted him, stroked his head and neck and pressed kisses into his scalp and enjoyed his smell. The wolf says being pack kept him alive. Tell me how, Sam murmured.
Israfil stared at Sam for a long moment, his face unreadable. Finally he said, Shifter packs are led by the alpha—the top dog. And there's betas. But beta doesn’t mean mate, not all the time. Shifter and wolves both…
Sam listened to Iz speak, taking in what Iz said and what the werewolf had said and thought, we can do this, save ourselves this way.
There was no doubt in his mind that he was the top dog here. Only Zack might contest that but Zack had weaknesses that Sam knew how to get around…he stopped Iz with a kiss and it turned into a string of kisses and slowly, the rest of the kids wandered into Sam's cage, everyone who could fit…his pack. They didn’t know it yet, but they were Sam's.
And he was theirs.
8-12-2013
firesign10's birthday! To celebrate and to thank her for the wonderful job she did on my BB this year, I gift her with a wee ficlet based in that verse. It's a little back story for one of the characters.Happy Birthday, kid! ;)
Title: Pack
Author: roxy
Pairings/Characters: Sam Winchester, Israfil
Rating: PG
Word Count: 1645
Summary: a tiny bit of Iz's story
Warnings: intimations of abuse, set in the Cicatrix 'verse.
PACK
This kind of day came along only once in a while, and it was something that Sam looked forward to very much. It was a day that Uncle Luke was out; he would be gone all day and that meant freedom.
There was food in the dishes and water in the buckets and after training, their time was their own. Sam stretched out on his scavenged pile of blankets—stretched himself in one long line, pressing his toes against the bars at one end and pressing his palms against the bars at the other. His bones popped and muscles stretched and a lazy warmth washed over him. He rolled to his side, propped his head up on one hand and watched the kids who claimed Sam as their head. They were the kids who'd survive the next few fights because they were smart enough to know that not everyone could be top dog. And that wasn't a bad thing, if the top dog cared enough to keep his team members safe.
From behind Sam came the sound of claws skittering over concrete and Sam smiled when Israfil came chasing through the cages, tail sweeping the air and his long tongue rolling out in a doggish grin. He ran up to the bars of Sam's cage, bowed down and whined. Come out, his glittering yellow eyes seemed to say. Come play. he whined and danced for Sam to get up.
Sam smiled and shook his head. It was rare that he got a chance to just roll up in the blankets and sleep all day and he wasn’t about to give it up, not even for Iz. No, he signed, staying here.
Israfil managed a pout even with his thick, furred snout. He snorted in disgust and put his back to Sam, so Sam turned his attention to the rest of the kids. They were in a wide spot between the cages, sitting in a circle. They were playing a game of some sort that involved bits of sticks arranged in squares and stones, flat, round, light and dark ones. Sam had no idea what the point of the game was, but Iz had taught it to the kids who cared to know. 'Check', he called it, or something like that. Sam had no interest in it, but thought it was a good thing; it gave the kids something to think about besides yesterday, or tomorrow.
Iz let loose a long, dramatic doggie sigh and then shook himself—hard. By the time he stopped shaking he was a naked little boy, slipping into the open door of Sam's cage. He weaved his way around Sam's ragged piles of blankets and tipped into Sam's lap, twisting and turning and digging in until he was comfortable—totally oblivious to Sam's occasional grunts and breathy, little gasps of pain.
Iz raised his hands and his fingers flew, punctuated by the occasional soft word. Saw you talking to the crazy one the other day.
Hush, don't call him crazy. He's just…
"Crazy." Israfil's voice was rough with little use but it made what he said even funnier and Sam huffed a laugh.
"Well," Sam said, …maybe a little. But he has a lot of knowledge. He's smart and he's a wolf and wolves—they know how to survive.
Iz nodded. They're better at it than shifters. Shifters are too close to human. Their packs are not as—He spread and joined his long fingers. together. Werewolves almost have one mind. Iz sighed and shifted. He frowned at some point way beyond the cages. I didn't like my pack. This here with Uncle Luke is better.
Sam felt a deep wash of horror. He might not know any other life besides this one except in dreams, but even Sam knew this was no way to live, collared and caged and forced to kill each other for reasons Sam was never able to understand.
I didn't like my life before that pack either, Iz went on. Except when I was very little and my mother was still alive. She loved me but my dad didn't like me. I don't know why.
Sam made a small breathy sound meant to let Iz know he was listening. Iz seemed to remember quite a lot of his life before being owned…Sam wondered why he didn't. Maybe he just didn’t want to know the truth about himself, about whatever thing it was inside him that gave him the Owner's favor.
Iz rolled over Sam's lap, so that his belly was up and his legs hung over Sam's legs and his arms dragged on the floor. I remember my dad drinking a lot, that bad smelling stuff Uncle likes. And that he watched the TV a lot. Sam tilted his head. TV…? Iz was odd. He said odd things.
Iz reached up and grabbed Sam's ear, pulling and rubbing it lightly as he talked, gone in his own world. Sam let him talk—it was good for Iz. He was very soft inside, easy to hurt, that's what Ana said and Tami agreed. So Sam let Iz talk whenever he wanted to and after they usually did the hand thing and kissed a lot and Sam liked the kisses.
I had my own bedroom, there was always food, I went to school too, sometimes. Iz said, but he beat me. He told me lots of times he wished I was dead. I don't know why but I must have been doing something wrong. I usually do. One night, he took me somewhere I'd never been before, big buildings and dark streets. When we got to one place, he made me get out of the car and he chained me to a pole with a ring on it. At first I thought that it was a punishment so I tried to be very, very good and very quiet but it didn't matter, he just walked away.
A tremor shook Iz and Sam growled, imaging this soft person in the dark on a chain. Zack swung his head towards him, looked away when Sam shrugged. He'd been taken off guard. it was just that being chained was never a good feeling, Sam knew, and it must have been worse being chained some place you didn’t know.
Iz petted Sam's knee and said, I thought my dad came back but it was another man, a stranger. I thought he maybe might let me loose, but he grabbed me and tore my clothes and I thought he was going to fuck me.
Sam held Iz a little tighter and rubbed his cheek over Iz's bristly head.
He didn't. He bit me. And then sat on the ground close to me and watched.
"Why?"
He changed me, Iz said patiently, as if Sam was stupid. He waited to see if the change would kill me.
Sam jerked and Iz squeaked when his grip suddenly tightened. You weren't born this way? I thought you were always this way—how did you— Sam couldn't imagine living with a change like that.
My dad came back when the sun was almost up and when he saw me alive, he asked the man who bit me for money.
He sold you; he sold you to a shifter.
Yeah, Iz said, but my dad was an idiot, he trusted the shifter. Me, if I offered someone money for a kid to change, I'd bite the kid and then kill the person so I would have the kid and all my money. Right?
Sam nodded. It really was simple. Iz's dad must have been an idiot. But how did you end up here?
Demons. Raided the pack. Set fire to our house and killed the alphas and the beta, all the males and the females not nursing. They took them and the little ones, the kids, and then they took me to Uncle Luke and that was that. Two years, and I remember you were the first general I met.
Two years? That hit Sam hard… Only two years? But you had a whole life that wasn't *this*—
Iz shrugged. I hated them. I was glad they died. Except about the kids. And some of the women said the pack was sick—the alpha was crazy, worse than the one in the cage. What about you. How long has it been for you?
Sam thought, chasing the faint memories of another life. He shrugged. He only really remembered Uncle Luke. All my life, he told Iz. I've been here all my life.
Iz reared back, horror written in his expression. But…why? How?
Sam gathered Iz back in close. Don't know. Don’t care. My life was no better than yours.
Iz sighed and burrowed into Sam. Sam patted him, stroked his head and neck and pressed kisses into his scalp and enjoyed his smell. The wolf says being pack kept him alive. Tell me how, Sam murmured.
Israfil stared at Sam for a long moment, his face unreadable. Finally he said, Shifter packs are led by the alpha—the top dog. And there's betas. But beta doesn’t mean mate, not all the time. Shifter and wolves both…
Sam listened to Iz speak, taking in what Iz said and what the werewolf had said and thought, we can do this, save ourselves this way.
There was no doubt in his mind that he was the top dog here. Only Zack might contest that but Zack had weaknesses that Sam knew how to get around…he stopped Iz with a kiss and it turned into a string of kisses and slowly, the rest of the kids wandered into Sam's cage, everyone who could fit…his pack. They didn’t know it yet, but they were Sam's.
And he was theirs.
8-12-2013
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
8/13/13 01:32 pm (UTC)*sniffle*
(no subject)
8/13/13 11:30 pm (UTC)(no subject)
8/14/13 12:39 am (UTC)*smish*
(no subject)
8/13/13 02:37 pm (UTC)(no subject)
8/13/13 11:29 pm (UTC)I'm so glad you liked it!! Happy Birthday! ♥
I thought it would be wrong to ask you to beta your own gift...*koff*
*GRIN*