October 15, 2016 - Ambiance
Title: Ambiance
Prompt Choice: Stormy
Pairing/Characters: Dean and Sam Winchester with a bit of John at the end
Rating: G
Medium: Fic
Word Count: 568
Fandom: Supernatural
Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural or any related characters.
Summary: There’s a storm going on outside, and that reminds young Sam of a question he’s been pondering.
Warnings: Here be Weechesters, if you dislike that. Ages are not explicitly stated.
Notes: It’s storming outside around here right now, though less that I think they thought it was going to do. *shrug* I don’t think John was “The-Most-Horrible-Dad-Ever”(TM), so if that’s the light you prefer to read him in, you won’t find much bashing of him here. Also, pretty much halfway already! Whew!
It was raining cats and dogs outside with strong gusts of wind, which meant a really long, really boring Saturday inside a motel room. The ambient sounds of whatever Dean was watching on TV and Sam turning the pages of his current book were punctuated by rolling thunder every now and then or the spattering of rain against the window as the wind pushed it right on past the overhang.
Sam’s book wasn’t as captivating as he’d hoped, so he found himself contemplating the weather as a very bright flash of lightning caught his attention.
“Hey, Dean,” he asked, “how come scary movies and stories are always on a ‘dark and stormy’ night? Storms aren’t really that scary.”
“How should I know?” Dean grumbled, but he couldn’t really be mad at Sam’s interruption of an infomercial for some weird kitchen gadget. “Besides, you used to cry every time there was thunder.”
“Not anymore, though,” Sam argued.
“Well...” Dean switched off the TV and considered the question. “I suppose it’s to set the mood, you know? If there’s a storm, most people curl up inside their houses and cut themselves off from whatever’s going on outside. On top of that, sometimes the electricity or even the phone lines will go down, isolating people even more, if something goes wrong.”
Sam gave his brother a skeptical look. “I’m still not exactly shaking in my boots over here.”
“Picture this,” Dean told him with a grin, leaning forward and gesturing animatedly with his hands. “You’re all alone during a storm with the curtains drawn so you can’t see anything outside. The power goes out, and you scramble for a flashlight, or a candle, or whatever. It gives light, but not enough to see everything, and it makes weird shadows on all the walls that almost make it seem like somebody else is there. You look toward the window, there’s a flash of lightning, and THE SILHOUETTE OF A STRANGER!” Dean lunged forward and shouted the last few words.
Sam jumped but then rolled his eyes. “You’re such a dork, Dean.”
Dean chuckled and opened his mouth to say something else, but then the room went dark. “Aww, man!” he complained instead. “Power’s gone out.”
They both fumbled around until they found flashlights. Just like Dean had said, they made shifting shadows that were a bit unsettling. Lightning flashed outside the window with the thunder right on its heels, shaking the walls.
“Whoa,” Dean whispered.
They both turned to stare at the curtain-covered window, unconsciously scooting closer to one another. The next bolt illuminated the figure of a man.
“Ahh!” both brothers cried.
The door burst open, and John stepped in, gun drawn. “What is it?” he asked. “What’s wrong?” He scanned the room, but saw nothing amiss.
Both boys blinked at him. “Dad?”
“Power’s out, huh?” John noted, deciding not to mention the embarrassed flush on both boys. “What do you say we go out for dinner?”
“Sounds good,” Dean agreed, clearing his throat to get rid of any residual squeakiness from his fright. “We’ve been stuck in here all day.”
“Can we get pizza?” Sam asked eagerly.
“Sure.”
The boys made a mad dash for the Impala, and John shook his head at them getting all worked up over a storm of all things, but he made sure to check the salt line before closing the door behind him.
Prompt Choice: Stormy
Pairing/Characters: Dean and Sam Winchester with a bit of John at the end
Rating: G
Medium: Fic
Word Count: 568
Fandom: Supernatural
Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural or any related characters.
Summary: There’s a storm going on outside, and that reminds young Sam of a question he’s been pondering.
Warnings: Here be Weechesters, if you dislike that. Ages are not explicitly stated.
Notes: It’s storming outside around here right now, though less that I think they thought it was going to do. *shrug* I don’t think John was “The-Most-Horrible-Dad-Ever”(TM), so if that’s the light you prefer to read him in, you won’t find much bashing of him here. Also, pretty much halfway already! Whew!
It was raining cats and dogs outside with strong gusts of wind, which meant a really long, really boring Saturday inside a motel room. The ambient sounds of whatever Dean was watching on TV and Sam turning the pages of his current book were punctuated by rolling thunder every now and then or the spattering of rain against the window as the wind pushed it right on past the overhang.
Sam’s book wasn’t as captivating as he’d hoped, so he found himself contemplating the weather as a very bright flash of lightning caught his attention.
“Hey, Dean,” he asked, “how come scary movies and stories are always on a ‘dark and stormy’ night? Storms aren’t really that scary.”
“How should I know?” Dean grumbled, but he couldn’t really be mad at Sam’s interruption of an infomercial for some weird kitchen gadget. “Besides, you used to cry every time there was thunder.”
“Not anymore, though,” Sam argued.
“Well...” Dean switched off the TV and considered the question. “I suppose it’s to set the mood, you know? If there’s a storm, most people curl up inside their houses and cut themselves off from whatever’s going on outside. On top of that, sometimes the electricity or even the phone lines will go down, isolating people even more, if something goes wrong.”
Sam gave his brother a skeptical look. “I’m still not exactly shaking in my boots over here.”
“Picture this,” Dean told him with a grin, leaning forward and gesturing animatedly with his hands. “You’re all alone during a storm with the curtains drawn so you can’t see anything outside. The power goes out, and you scramble for a flashlight, or a candle, or whatever. It gives light, but not enough to see everything, and it makes weird shadows on all the walls that almost make it seem like somebody else is there. You look toward the window, there’s a flash of lightning, and THE SILHOUETTE OF A STRANGER!” Dean lunged forward and shouted the last few words.
Sam jumped but then rolled his eyes. “You’re such a dork, Dean.”
Dean chuckled and opened his mouth to say something else, but then the room went dark. “Aww, man!” he complained instead. “Power’s gone out.”
They both fumbled around until they found flashlights. Just like Dean had said, they made shifting shadows that were a bit unsettling. Lightning flashed outside the window with the thunder right on its heels, shaking the walls.
“Whoa,” Dean whispered.
They both turned to stare at the curtain-covered window, unconsciously scooting closer to one another. The next bolt illuminated the figure of a man.
“Ahh!” both brothers cried.
The door burst open, and John stepped in, gun drawn. “What is it?” he asked. “What’s wrong?” He scanned the room, but saw nothing amiss.
Both boys blinked at him. “Dad?”
“Power’s out, huh?” John noted, deciding not to mention the embarrassed flush on both boys. “What do you say we go out for dinner?”
“Sounds good,” Dean agreed, clearing his throat to get rid of any residual squeakiness from his fright. “We’ve been stuck in here all day.”
“Can we get pizza?” Sam asked eagerly.
“Sure.”
The boys made a mad dash for the Impala, and John shook his head at them getting all worked up over a storm of all things, but he made sure to check the salt line before closing the door behind him.