SpN: Impossible Things
6/14/10 08:09 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
roxy
Title: Impossible Things
Author: roxy
Pairings/Characters:Sam/Dean
Rating: PG-ish
Word Count: 2110
Spoilers: very vague spoilery reference for the end of season 5, but it veers off into AUness pretty quick
Summary: What happens when you survive a thing you never expected to
Things went pretty quiet when the end was averted. Shit still went wrong, but it was normal shit, wrong in normal ways. Sam had to laugh at that. Normal….
They stayed in Maryland for a few days, waiting…but Sam had slammed that pit shut pretty tight, and Dean had hit Ruby so hard with that knife her head almost came off and Castiel lit up like a bonfire and that was the last they'd seen of him. They waited for calls—from Bobby, or Chuck or Cas, but when a week went by and no one called they packed up, and they moved on.
Sam managed to convince Dean--through dint of screaming and punching and there may have been a swirly involved, but God, he was just so fucking tired of it all—to take some time off. It wasn't the end of the world after all. Not anymore. Dean tried the people are dying without our help thing and Sam pointed out that while they were saving one person on this side of the state on the other side some poor shmuck would always be losing his liver, his heart…Sam knew damn well that was a harsh thing to say and it made Dean look at him with white showing all around his eyes but you know, Sam just couldn't be bothered to care, not totally, not at that moment. He wanted to lay down, go to sleep and wake up some other year. It'd be a nice year too, one in which Dean and he had a great house, and a great life and maybe, maybe they still shared a house, probably just temporarily, but still. Because that's what they did, they shared things.
Later, they'd save people. Right now, they needed to save each other.
They drove a long, long time, changing off, one sleeping while the other ate and drove, until they were somewhere warm, some place with sun all the time and no dark corners. The town they fetched up against was small, and the people were unnaturally friendly. At least, that's what Dean kept saying under his breath, eyes narrowed and fixed on anything that crossed in front of his laser-like glare. Sam just laughed it off. There was nothing to be afraid of here. He'd feel if it was. Because sure, he'd told Dean that he'd used all of his mojo to shut down Lucifer, but he'd lied. Better for Dean. Peace of mind. Less underpants in his crack face. So anyway, pretty much a dead spot, supernatural-wise. No demons. No angels. No echoes from the spirit world—no dangerous ones, anyway. Safe.
Dean stared out on the little main street and shoved a dripping burger into his mouth. Sam gnawed his way through a turkey club and thought, this is it. We can stay put here, for a little bit, at least. Dean turned his face from the window and aimed a small but warm smile at Sam, and tripped a circuit breaker in Sam's brain. The sun lit Dean's eyes, turned them coke-bottle green, clear and cool and wide enough to swim in, and his pupils were blacker than coal, blacker then the hint of that black Sam'd seen around the edges of Lucifer's light. Deep, and black, and eternal. And then Dean blinked, smiled wider, gargled his coke and broke the spell.
Sam settled back in his chair with a grateful sigh. Sometimes…he got caught up in that *thing* that Dean broadcast indiscriminately. He wiped the back of his wrist across his mouth and swiped mayo onto his chin. Dean smiled the little smile again and reached over and wiped it off. "Slob," he said, so fondly that Sam froze in panic. His throat worked, until finally a weak "Jerk," popped out.
Dean snorted and pushed the bill towards him.
They argued a bit about stopping there. Dean wanted a cabin in the woods, far from everyone and everything. Sam wanted a place that they wouldn't have to plan a trip just to pick up toilet paper. Both of them laid out the pros and cons of their individual plans. Sam explained, with his knee in Dean's kidney and wiping away blood from under his nose, just how much better living in town would be then squatting in some shack in the asshole of nowhere playing Grizzly Adams, and Dean had to agree. Sam was gracious in victory, and filled the car's tank, ignoring Dean mumbling about mutant freak bitches…after all, he'd won.
They camped out in a motel on the edge of the town and perused the papers, looking for some place to drop their bags and take a breath.
"Hey."
Sam looked up from separating their dirty clothes from their dirtier clothes. "What?"
"Listen to this," Dean said and shook the newspaper smooth and Sam sighed. Nothing ever good happened after listen to this. "Police are still looking for information on a missing elderly man. Last seen at the Hampton Arms. The Hampton Arms have previously been the center of investigations concerning similar disappearances, though no investigations have resulted in charges."
"So?" Sam unfolded a t-shirt that practically crackled, glued together in the center with…not blood. And not his t-shirt, what the hell was it doing in his bag? Sam's face screwed up in disgust. His brother was an animal.
The animal huffed like it had a right to be annoyed. "Similar disappearances? No one's been charged?"
"It's probably a crack hotel. People disappear all the time," Sam said and let Dean's look of perplexed horror slide right off him. "Dean. Let it *go*."
"I'm just going to take a look, is all. C'mon, you're not bored?"
"We haven't been in town for more than a couple of hours—how can you be bored?"
"Talent."
Sam refused to look. Scrubbed his palms against his thighs and felt the heat of a goofy grin bounce off his neck. "Let. It. Go."
Brilliant advice, that. What happened was, he let Dean go, and stayed behind to think. Not pout. It wasn't true that he needed to get his way all the time. If that was the case, Dean would be there, on the bed, watching TV and teasing Sam and sitting close. And not jerking away when Sam tilted a little and accidentally dropped his head onto Dean's shoulder. Whatever.
"So…a ghost?"
"A ghost! Classic—cold spots, moaning, shit moving, yeah. So anyway, the dude owns the building was all coy at first but finally gives it up and begs for help. Some psycho used the place as his hunting grounds fifteen, twenty years ago until he was tracked there and shot dead by the cops. Thing is, it wasn't the guy causing trouble. This ghost was a chick."
Sam watched Dean's face as he talked, lit up like a candle. Thought, this is what Dean's made for—not dealing with those winged dicks, fighting off the end of the world shit—it was this. Salt and burns, putting dead things to rest—helping people, looking into their eyes and giving them hope. The one on one. He felt kind of guilty not letting Dean have that but he'd get over this guilt just like he'd get over the mountainous pile of guilt already teetering in his brain. Fuck it. He'd learn to make pie and Dean would be happy.
"Hey! Are you listening to me?"
Sam rolled his eyes. "Yes, yes, you big ghost hunter, yaddah yaddah."
"Bitch. Perfect object lesson, Sammy. never go off with a stranger, ever." Like he thought Sam was still ten and could be lured away with bright shiny objects—
Sam blushed, refused to follow that train of thought to its inevitable, sticky train wreck conclusion and of course Dean kept right on yapping like he didn't notice..."Not even if they promise you a real nice room and a good meal 'cause that never ends well. Also, why kill someone and keep trophies? What's up with that?"
"Hunh?"
"Under the floorboards. Found like, a bracelet of hair. Gross. So, psycho whacks some chick and braids her hair into a bracelet and the poor dead chick turns all vengeful spirit and anyone in the apartment goes missing. Sad shit, man—quick fix though."
Sam leaned against the table, mouth open and eyes wide. "How in the hell…that was good work," he says at last.
"Fucking don't sound so surprised," Dean snapped. "What'd you think I was doing while you were sleeping the day away at Stanford? So anyway, the ghost is gone—oh, and we have an apartment."
"Hunh?"
Dean rolled his eyes this time. "Apartment—place to stay? Rootlets, like you've been nagging the ever-loving shit out of me for?" He rooted around in the tiny fridge and pulled out a bottle of water with a grimace.
"Really? All ready?" But…Dean didn't really ever do anything Sam wanted. He pretended to but not really. This was just…weird. "Really?"
"Yes, really. Turns out the dude owns the building was looking for a super, too." Dean grinned. "Free rent and money for nothing and a great place that I personally know is ghost-free."
Ew."Dean…super means repairs, tending to tenants. Listening to people."
"Yeah well, that shit I can do. Who do you think made some of those squats we were in livable? Dad?" Dean snorted and Sam winced. It was still taking him some time to get used to the Dean of 'Dad Was a Just Barely Decent Sort of Human Being But a Shit Father' instead of Dad G. Winchester—G. Stands for God And Don't You Forget It.
"Anyway, that shit I can do easy, plus terrorize people into paying rent? No prob. And some of those tenants—hot, omg. I won't even have to leave the building."
"Jesus, Dean. Did you just really say OMG? Stop reading those fuckin' stories dude."
"Fuck you too, *dude*. Come on. We gotta get packed. Damien's gonna open the apartment for us."
"The owner's name is Damien…what's this place called again? The Bramford?"
"Wha?"
"The Bramford—Rosemary's Baby—you quote every fucking movie in the world and you don’t know Rosemary's—you know what? Let's just pack, okay?"
Dean stared at Sam, that Look. He heard him mutter 'freak', and it made Sam smile. Dean was coming back to him. Slowly but surely. Apartment…he grinned wide. Coming back and bringing him presents. And not second hand Barbies either.
Sam circled the apartment's living room, feeling a little—a lot—out of his element. This was wrong, all wrong. It wasn't supposed to go like this. Dean wasn't supposed to be grinning at him, standing in a pool of sunlight with his arms spread like he'd done something especially neato-keen. This was all so fucking wrong and Dean was an asshole. So why did he feel like crying?
"Cool right? Rent free, mother-fucker. Tell me killing evil shit isn't a profitable skill. Gratitude, dude. That's what gets you the extra cookie. Now you can." Dean stopped, dropped his arms and the attitude and said, kind of soft, "now you cam relax and think, plan your future, right?"
Sam nodded, still adrift on a sea of what the hell. "It's nice. Um. Nice."
"Right? So I've got some paper work to fill out, and some fake ID to flash, and I'll be back." He tossed Sam the keys. "Unload the car, bitch."
"Fuck you," Sam murmured but Dean was already out the door. Sam looked around again at the sunny living room, down the hall to the bathroom and two tiny bedrooms, wheeled to look at the dining room and kitchen. Okay, he'd been expecting a sunless box in the basement. Didn't all supers live in the basement? He'd been expecting the smell of mold and dryer lint but--he sniffed--it smelled like apple pie. Because there was pie on the counter…Dean bought pie for an apartment warming gift. Sam stared for a long moment before the whole scene wavered like melted wax. "Ah," he said, "I get it. I'm dead. Or dying and this is what's left of my brain cells firing off before it's all over…."
He sat on the floor, and crossed his arms over his knees and waited for the show to stop. The fact that he was alone, no Dean in sight, was just the final proof. Whatever he'd thought he'd done in Maryland, it hadn't been winning.
The sun was out of the living room window, and he was still in the damn apartment and starting to get a back ache from sitting on the floor when the door flew open and his bags flew into the room.
"Do I have to do every fucking thing, you fucked up yeti, you—Sam?"
Sam turned red eyes up to Dean and said, "You came back."
"Duh—was only in the lobby, what the hell is wrong with you?"
"Am I dead?"
Dean did a double take, said, "No, but I'm thinking maybe brain damaged." A range of expressions flashed over his face, annoyed changed to concerned, changed to fond. "It's really happening, Sammy. We're really okay—promise. We're alive. And I'm pretty fucking hungry so…."
It took Sam half a burger and a strawberry shake he didn't even like before he was willing to concede that yeah, he was alive and his pain in the ass brother had somehow, in some amazing way, really, truly, gotten them a real place to live. Sam grinned at Dean and Dean smiled back, soft, sweet, and kicked Sam in the shins so hard his chair rocked back. "Girl," he said, but Sam could hear what he really meant.
"Fuck you," Sam said, and figured Dean knew it meant, 'I'm glad you're my brother, too'….
part two
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![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
6/15/10 12:42 am (UTC)And: "Jesus, Dean. Did you just really say OMG? Stop reading those fuckin' stories dude."
heeheeeee!
(no subject)
6/15/10 02:04 am (UTC)(no subject)
6/15/10 12:53 am (UTC)(no subject)
6/15/10 02:04 am (UTC)(no subject)
6/15/10 01:07 am (UTC)(no subject)
6/15/10 02:05 am (UTC)(no subject)
6/15/10 01:30 am (UTC)In "Abandon All Hope" there was the moment that Dean shot Lucifer with the colt and he fell to the ground, and for just a couple seconds it looked like they'd won--and the look on there faces was just like in your story: what do we do now, we never expected to succeed.
Except in the show they didn't. So I like your universe better.
(no subject)
6/15/10 02:06 am (UTC)(no subject)
6/15/10 01:48 am (UTC)Loved Dean doing what he could for his brother and the general pace and feel of the story. Thank you!
(no subject)
6/15/10 02:08 am (UTC)Thank you so much for reading!
(no subject)
6/15/10 02:05 am (UTC)(no subject)
6/15/10 02:09 am (UTC)(no subject)
6/15/10 02:50 am (UTC)(no subject)
6/15/10 03:02 am (UTC)(no subject)
6/15/10 03:37 am (UTC)(no subject)
6/15/10 04:16 am (UTC)I think there might be more, too. I haven't finished breaking hearts yet. *g*
(no subject)
6/15/10 04:54 am (UTC)The animal huffed like it had a right to be annoyed. "Similar disappearances? No one's been charged?"
*dies fucking laughing, omfg*
Dude! I love it. Hilarious, perfect, *spot* on. Wheeeee! You roxor hardcore.
:)
*twirls you*
*teeny thing: "Do I have to do every fucking thing, you fucked up yeti, you—*Sam*?"
i'm thinking you want the last 'sam' to be in italics and not bracketed by asterisks?*
(no subject)
6/15/10 05:04 am (UTC)And thank you, beloved! I whipped through this pretty quick so boo-boos are bound to surface, oy! :)
(no subject)
6/15/10 05:29 am (UTC)(no subject)
6/15/10 11:04 pm (UTC)Thank you so much!! I really appreciate your comment!
(no subject)
6/15/10 05:58 am (UTC)saved to memories :)
(no subject)
6/15/10 11:05 pm (UTC)Thanks so much for reading--and saving it, yay!
(no subject)
6/15/10 06:15 am (UTC)(no subject)
6/15/10 11:53 pm (UTC)(no subject)
6/15/10 12:03 pm (UTC)(no subject)
6/15/10 11:54 pm (UTC)Aw, thank you so much! You make me happy!
(no subject)
6/15/10 01:19 pm (UTC)(no subject)
6/15/10 11:55 pm (UTC)Thanks so much for reading!
(no subject)
6/16/10 12:35 am (UTC)(no subject)
6/15/10 01:38 pm (UTC)(no subject)
6/15/10 11:56 pm (UTC)(no subject)
6/15/10 04:41 pm (UTC)(no subject)
6/15/10 11:57 pm (UTC)(no subject)
6/16/10 01:58 pm (UTC)With as little time as I have for things lately, finding a new story from you is always such an amazing present. I loved it! This is my new canon now. They deserve a little happy damn it! My heart broke at the ending we got on the show.
One sentence really jumped out at me and it sailed right over Sam's head...
"now you cam relax and think, plan your future, right?"
Dean said your future, not our. Even after everything that's happened, after Sam's flat out told him that's not his life any more, he still believes Sam's going to leave him, doesn't he? Can't wait to see the fallout when Sam replays that little conversation in his head. :)
Thank you, Roxy, so much, for sharing this with us.
*hugs you hard*
(no subject)
6/16/10 02:41 pm (UTC)You are *so* smart, lady! *G*
Yeah, Dean's definitely not believing it. Especially since this takes place at the end of season 4, but I kinda sorta didn't make that clear enough. *g* oy! Maybe I should make that clear in an A/N? Anyhoo, I'm damn flattered that you took the time to read this, since I know how little time you have to spare for yourself! Thank you so very much, love!
(no subject)
6/16/10 06:26 pm (UTC)Definitely what I've been wanting to see <3.
I really loved the part where Sam said that sometimes he gets caught up in what Dean indiscriminately broadcasts to everyone. It was cute :).
All the moments where Sam was like, enraptured by Dean were so adorable. And I love how we got to see Dean's fondness leaking out even though he tries to cover it up :).
I also thought it was funny and really in their characters that Sam tries to make a movie reference and Dean doesn't get it =P.
I'm so wanting more of this universe, pleaase? :).
(no subject)
6/19/10 05:23 pm (UTC)(no subject)
6/28/10 10:46 pm (UTC)You really makes us see how much Dean just loves doing these things for Sammy, to make him happy, make him smile,beeing a big brother again.
legio
(no subject)
6/28/10 10:56 pm (UTC)Thank you so much for reading and commenting! :)
(no subject)
10/16/10 06:43 pm (UTC)*Smishes you too, while I'm at it* This was beautiful. All of your writing is so visually and sensually appealing with all of the sight, sound, etc details you include.
Oh, one detail I forgot - I noticed a line where Dean said something about how Sam can now plan his future. Nothing about Dean's future or their future. A little sad note in the midst of this much happier future than the show gave us. And Sam didn't even take it in. Of course, he was feeling pretty overwhelmed himself, a the time.
(no subject)
10/17/10 01:07 am (UTC)Sam is remarkably oblivious to Dean's feeling throughout this. It's not that he's self-centered, I think Sam's just been taught to kind of ignore what Dean's feeling, in a way.