Simple Gifts (ficlet for ratherastory's Fusion 'verse)
Yay, new SPN ficlet!
This is actually set in ratherastory's Fusion series, which is my favorite SPN thing in the UNIVERSE right now, and I am clinging to it like a lifeboat. Lalala who's ignoring S6 oh yes that's ME.
I actually wrote this before the premiere, I just angsted as usual over some small details, but I figure we can all use it (and the whole Fusion series) right now.
Title: Simple Gifts
Rating: G (not even language in this one)
Word count: 710
Characters: Sam, Dean, Bobby
Spoilers: Set after S5, but AU to S6
Warnings: permanent injury (both mental and physical), fluff, hurt/comfort
Summary: Some gifts last far longer than you had any reason to expect.
Author notes: Once again, this is firmly set in ratherastory's Fusion series, and you should absolutely check them out - the first one, at least, prior to reading this. It'll make a lot more sense if you do, since I'm not bothering to explain anything.
Thanks to brosedshield for some feedback.
At the onset of autumn, Bobby locked up and warded his yard before heading south in his Camaro. Years ago, the Winchesters swung by his place this time of year, but well, times had changed. He didn't mind taking a road trip for a different reason than hunting, though.
The town the boys had settled in seemed sleepy as ever. As he parked on the street, a neighbor on his porch waved at him. Bemused, Bobby lifted his hand in return, wondering if he was actually remembered from his handful of visits through the year.
Sam answered the door, and Bobby barely had time to feel trepidation before Sam's face broke into a wide, easy smile. "Hey Bobby." He held out his hand.
Bobby grasped it tightly, clapping Sam's shoulder with his other hand. "Good to see you, kid." He kept in touch with a phone call every couple of weeks, but last time he visited, Sam hadn't known who he was.
Sam moved aside to let him in, revealing Dean on the couch, leg propped up on a footstool. "Hey Bobby!" He raised his beer in greeting and muted the TV. "Grab a couple more beers, won't you, Sam?"
Bobby took a seat in the armchair across the room, and a moment later Sam returned with two bottles. He popped the tops off easily before passing them out, then took a seat next to Dean and picked up a water glass from the nearby table.
"How was the drive?" Dean asked.
"Not too bad - just one traffic snarl down 29."
"Anything new going on in the hunting world?" As far as Bobby knew, Dean sincerely didn't miss his old family business, but he liked hearing that others were still ganking baddies.
"Well, I went by the new Roadhouse last month. Two new gals running it, Rebecca McBride and Kelly Stinson. Boy, you wouldn't want to cross them in the dark."
Even on his best days, Sam never participated in much conversation unless he was asked a direct question, but he seemed to be paying attention for a while, until his focus slipped to the corner of the room. He start to frown and fidget with the neck of his shirt, until he abruptly stood and strode into the back of the house. Bobby paused mid-sentence, glancing at Dean, but Dean shook his head and waved for him to continue.
They went on discussing the possible origin of a new pack of werewolves down in Alabama, until a heavy thud came from the bedroom. Dean craned his neck back, but sounded unconcerned as he called, "Everything okay, Sam?"
Sam appeared, distraught and rubbing his knuckles. "I can't find it." Moving to the small closet by the door, he began digging through the coat pockets.
"Whatcha looking for, Sammy?"
Sam didn't stop, but he muttered with increasing agitation, "I should have it. I shouldn't have lost it."
"Sam." Dean's voice was calm, but the emphasis in it made Sam pause. "Maybe I can help you find it if you tell me what it is."
Sam still wouldn't meet his eyes, but he sketched a V below his neck with a quick, distracted motion before rubbing and tapping his wrists, as though searching for something there, and lifted a foot back to feel his ankle.
Dean stared at him with furrowed brow, then said quietly, "Sam," and waited for his brother to lift his gaze. "Are you looking for this?" He held up the amulet around his neck.
Sam's shoulders visibly relaxed, even as his frown deepened. "When'd you put that on?"
Dean's face tightened. He glanced down for the briefest moment before meeting Sam's eyes. "A while ago, Sammy. Now come sit down, it's okay."
Unhesitating, Sam flopped down on the couch, leaning toward Dean but still with space between them. Dean rested his elbow on the back of the couch to rub the back of his brother's neck, and Sam's eyes fell half-shut in contentment.
Bobby coughed into his fist to hide a smile. He remembered - ages and worlds ago - passing off what he thought was just a decorative trinket to the bored eight-year-old roaming his house. He had never thought then that it would tie them to each other, even through heaven and hell.
This is actually set in ratherastory's Fusion series, which is my favorite SPN thing in the UNIVERSE right now, and I am clinging to it like a lifeboat. Lalala who's ignoring S6 oh yes that's ME.
I actually wrote this before the premiere, I just angsted as usual over some small details, but I figure we can all use it (and the whole Fusion series) right now.
Title: Simple Gifts
Rating: G (not even language in this one)
Word count: 710
Characters: Sam, Dean, Bobby
Spoilers: Set after S5, but AU to S6
Warnings: permanent injury (both mental and physical), fluff, hurt/comfort
Summary: Some gifts last far longer than you had any reason to expect.
Author notes: Once again, this is firmly set in ratherastory's Fusion series, and you should absolutely check them out - the first one, at least, prior to reading this. It'll make a lot more sense if you do, since I'm not bothering to explain anything.
Thanks to brosedshield for some feedback.
At the onset of autumn, Bobby locked up and warded his yard before heading south in his Camaro. Years ago, the Winchesters swung by his place this time of year, but well, times had changed. He didn't mind taking a road trip for a different reason than hunting, though.
The town the boys had settled in seemed sleepy as ever. As he parked on the street, a neighbor on his porch waved at him. Bemused, Bobby lifted his hand in return, wondering if he was actually remembered from his handful of visits through the year.
Sam answered the door, and Bobby barely had time to feel trepidation before Sam's face broke into a wide, easy smile. "Hey Bobby." He held out his hand.
Bobby grasped it tightly, clapping Sam's shoulder with his other hand. "Good to see you, kid." He kept in touch with a phone call every couple of weeks, but last time he visited, Sam hadn't known who he was.
Sam moved aside to let him in, revealing Dean on the couch, leg propped up on a footstool. "Hey Bobby!" He raised his beer in greeting and muted the TV. "Grab a couple more beers, won't you, Sam?"
Bobby took a seat in the armchair across the room, and a moment later Sam returned with two bottles. He popped the tops off easily before passing them out, then took a seat next to Dean and picked up a water glass from the nearby table.
"How was the drive?" Dean asked.
"Not too bad - just one traffic snarl down 29."
"Anything new going on in the hunting world?" As far as Bobby knew, Dean sincerely didn't miss his old family business, but he liked hearing that others were still ganking baddies.
"Well, I went by the new Roadhouse last month. Two new gals running it, Rebecca McBride and Kelly Stinson. Boy, you wouldn't want to cross them in the dark."
Even on his best days, Sam never participated in much conversation unless he was asked a direct question, but he seemed to be paying attention for a while, until his focus slipped to the corner of the room. He start to frown and fidget with the neck of his shirt, until he abruptly stood and strode into the back of the house. Bobby paused mid-sentence, glancing at Dean, but Dean shook his head and waved for him to continue.
They went on discussing the possible origin of a new pack of werewolves down in Alabama, until a heavy thud came from the bedroom. Dean craned his neck back, but sounded unconcerned as he called, "Everything okay, Sam?"
Sam appeared, distraught and rubbing his knuckles. "I can't find it." Moving to the small closet by the door, he began digging through the coat pockets.
"Whatcha looking for, Sammy?"
Sam didn't stop, but he muttered with increasing agitation, "I should have it. I shouldn't have lost it."
"Sam." Dean's voice was calm, but the emphasis in it made Sam pause. "Maybe I can help you find it if you tell me what it is."
Sam still wouldn't meet his eyes, but he sketched a V below his neck with a quick, distracted motion before rubbing and tapping his wrists, as though searching for something there, and lifted a foot back to feel his ankle.
Dean stared at him with furrowed brow, then said quietly, "Sam," and waited for his brother to lift his gaze. "Are you looking for this?" He held up the amulet around his neck.
Sam's shoulders visibly relaxed, even as his frown deepened. "When'd you put that on?"
Dean's face tightened. He glanced down for the briefest moment before meeting Sam's eyes. "A while ago, Sammy. Now come sit down, it's okay."
Unhesitating, Sam flopped down on the couch, leaning toward Dean but still with space between them. Dean rested his elbow on the back of the couch to rub the back of his brother's neck, and Sam's eyes fell half-shut in contentment.
Bobby coughed into his fist to hide a smile. He remembered - ages and worlds ago - passing off what he thought was just a decorative trinket to the bored eight-year-old roaming his house. He had never thought then that it would tie them to each other, even through heaven and hell.