Red Shoes, (Supernatural, S14, Gen)
I am still writing Black Valentine. My fingers are painful and progress is slow and this show-related muse interrupted. I grabbed it and locked it down on a page while I could, because, goodness, not only did I enjoy 'Mint Condition' but it inspired a quick fix-it fic.
Title: Red Shoes
Rating: Gen. Suitable for all.
Characters: Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester
Description: Dean doesn't like having a lot of random people in the bunker with him and his Sammy. Neither do I. We fixed it. When Sam returns after running an errand, the bunker is suspiciously quiet. (Or in other words, I write a coda for 14.04)
Warnings: er none, a touch of brotherly codependency
Length: ~900 words
Disclaimer: This is all fiction folks. Neither the boys or their world belong to me. I'm playing for fun, not profit.
Sam closes the bunker door and the clang of it echoes around a suspiciously quiet bunker.
“That lot!” says Dean defensively, pushing a fresh burger across a library table as Sam descends the stairs, “Only know how to hunt angels and vampires.”
There are no open books, no abandoned coffee cups and the pipes don’t echo with the sound of anyone using the bathroom.
“Um, Dean…?” Sam indicates the empty war room and library with a wave of his hand.
Dean bites into his bun and chews happily.
“Where is Riley?” Sam asks.
“Thought he could kill Santa’s elf with an angel blade. I mean, really? Not that I blame ‘em. It’s the life they lived.”
Sam sits heavily opposite Dean, “Is he…? Did Riley…?”
Dean speaks with his mouth full, “Ah, no, it’s good. Told him to spill some salt and they talked it out with Rudolph or whoever, s’all good.”
“Um, so where is he? Where are Charlie and Bobby and Maggie?” Sam looks concerned but he picks up his burger and looks appreciatively at it. “You haven’t cooked in forever.”
“Too many cooks and all that,” says Dean, “Eat up, or I’ll have it.” He makes a grab for Sam’s plate and Sam snatches it back.
“I want it,” he says, putting it to his mouth and taking an enthusiastic bite.
They chew quietly and companionably on their food for a few moments. Sam thinks it feels good to be like this, taking a little brotherly peace from the chaos that the bunker has been in recently. Dean isn’t acting like anything bad has happened and Michael probably doesn’t eat burgers, at least, not like Dean does, with grease running down his fingers. He lets himself enjoy it.
Dean wipes his lips, “Mom, Jack and Maggie are hunting a chupacabra in Minnesota. Mom promised that they could stop in Darwin to see the largest ball of twine."
“Well technically…,” Sam tries to correct him.
Dean rolls his eyes and corrects himself, “Baler twine, whatever. Anyhow, Rowena and Bobby got a tip about an ancient occult library, so they headed out together. Should be back in about a week.”
“Well, that’s not a sentence I would have expected to hear a year ago,” comments Sam, “Do you think we can trust Rowena.”
Dean looks smug, “Meh, probably not, but it’s not there, Men of Letters scooped it up in 1943.”
“What?” Sam glares at him, “Why did you let them go?”
“Hey! If they don’t do their research, that’s not my fault. Besides, seemed like the start of a beautiful relationship.”
Sam takes another bite of his food, chews and swallows before asking, “If Rowena is with Bobby, where is Charlie? Cas? Riley?”
“You know they’re nosy. I mean I understand it. Lot’s of interesting things here, but they don’t have to geek out, do they?” Dean fidgets and can’t look Sam in the eyes. “Besides, beautiful relationships, they deserve a chance don’t you think?” Dean gets up, grabs two beers from the kitchen and throws one to Sam.
Sam catches it easily but his eyes narrow with the knowledge that Dean is buttering him up before a guilty admission. He just can’t figure out what he has done. “Dean! What have you done?”
Dean puts his hands up in surrender, “I didn’t do anything,” he says.
“But you didn’t stop them from doing something stupid?”
“Cas should know better. Besides, it could be beautiful, Dorothy gets another chance with Apocalypse-Charlie and they all get to skip down the yellow brick road with a scarecrow.” Dean rushes the words out, takes a deep breath and when Sam glares without interrupting he continues, “Dorothy can do her whizzkid hunter training with ‘em, and we get our home to ourselves for a while. They’ll be back, no harm done,” He gives Sam a shit-eating grin.
Sam looks stern, “You gave them the key to Oz?”
“No! Like I said, they’re nosy. They’re lucky it wasn’t a cursed object.”
“Dean! You do remember evil-Charlie, don’t you?”
“See, Dorothy won’t let that happen twice,” Dean retorts.
Sam stands, an imposing Chief ready to retrieve his troops, “We have to open the door.”
Dean takes a swig of his beer, remains sitting. “Can’t. They took the key with ‘em.”
Sam’s shoulder’s drop.
“Which means, Chief, that they can click their red shoes and come home any time they want. Relax. Let them have an adventure. I got pie.” He rustles a bag at Sam, “And that tropical fruit salad you love. Read a book, enjoy some ‘us’ time.”
Sam looks around the bunker again, around their home and back into Dean’s big, green beseeching gaze. Dean says Sam uses puppy dog eyes but Dean can be every bit as successful with just a look. He sighs, imagines Dean struggling under water, drowning in Michael’s grace, and gives it up. Dean deserves this. “Okay, but we are going to get them back.”
“Fine. You hit the books,” Dean concedes smugly, kicking his long legs up to rest on the library table.
“Wanna get your ass handed to you in a game of Fußball first?” asks Sam with a soft smile.
Dean’s feet fall back to the floor with a whumpf, “Oh, baby bro, you are going to get your ass handed to you.”
It feels right, it feels great, and as they make their way through the green tiled hall to Dean’s cave, Sam relaxes.
There’s a ‘knock, knock, knocking’ noise coming from one of the rooms as they pass the door.
“I thought we were alone,” remarks Sam, curiously.
“Oh, man, I forgot to say, watch out for the flying monkeys in room 4,” Dean comments with an offhand shrug.
Sam nods, like Dean has made a perfectly ordinary comment, then they race and barge each other to the Fußball table for first kick-off. They will deal with missing hunters and flying monkeys later.
~end~
Comments are candy for my soul.
Title: Red Shoes
Rating: Gen. Suitable for all.
Characters: Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester
Description: Dean doesn't like having a lot of random people in the bunker with him and his Sammy. Neither do I. We fixed it. When Sam returns after running an errand, the bunker is suspiciously quiet. (Or in other words, I write a coda for 14.04)
Warnings: er none, a touch of brotherly codependency
Length: ~900 words
Disclaimer: This is all fiction folks. Neither the boys or their world belong to me. I'm playing for fun, not profit.
Sam closes the bunker door and the clang of it echoes around a suspiciously quiet bunker.
“That lot!” says Dean defensively, pushing a fresh burger across a library table as Sam descends the stairs, “Only know how to hunt angels and vampires.”
There are no open books, no abandoned coffee cups and the pipes don’t echo with the sound of anyone using the bathroom.
“Um, Dean…?” Sam indicates the empty war room and library with a wave of his hand.
Dean bites into his bun and chews happily.
“Where is Riley?” Sam asks.
“Thought he could kill Santa’s elf with an angel blade. I mean, really? Not that I blame ‘em. It’s the life they lived.”
Sam sits heavily opposite Dean, “Is he…? Did Riley…?”
Dean speaks with his mouth full, “Ah, no, it’s good. Told him to spill some salt and they talked it out with Rudolph or whoever, s’all good.”
“Um, so where is he? Where are Charlie and Bobby and Maggie?” Sam looks concerned but he picks up his burger and looks appreciatively at it. “You haven’t cooked in forever.”
“Too many cooks and all that,” says Dean, “Eat up, or I’ll have it.” He makes a grab for Sam’s plate and Sam snatches it back.
“I want it,” he says, putting it to his mouth and taking an enthusiastic bite.
They chew quietly and companionably on their food for a few moments. Sam thinks it feels good to be like this, taking a little brotherly peace from the chaos that the bunker has been in recently. Dean isn’t acting like anything bad has happened and Michael probably doesn’t eat burgers, at least, not like Dean does, with grease running down his fingers. He lets himself enjoy it.
Dean wipes his lips, “Mom, Jack and Maggie are hunting a chupacabra in Minnesota. Mom promised that they could stop in Darwin to see the largest ball of twine."
“Well technically…,” Sam tries to correct him.
Dean rolls his eyes and corrects himself, “Baler twine, whatever. Anyhow, Rowena and Bobby got a tip about an ancient occult library, so they headed out together. Should be back in about a week.”
“Well, that’s not a sentence I would have expected to hear a year ago,” comments Sam, “Do you think we can trust Rowena.”
Dean looks smug, “Meh, probably not, but it’s not there, Men of Letters scooped it up in 1943.”
“What?” Sam glares at him, “Why did you let them go?”
“Hey! If they don’t do their research, that’s not my fault. Besides, seemed like the start of a beautiful relationship.”
Sam takes another bite of his food, chews and swallows before asking, “If Rowena is with Bobby, where is Charlie? Cas? Riley?”
“You know they’re nosy. I mean I understand it. Lot’s of interesting things here, but they don’t have to geek out, do they?” Dean fidgets and can’t look Sam in the eyes. “Besides, beautiful relationships, they deserve a chance don’t you think?” Dean gets up, grabs two beers from the kitchen and throws one to Sam.
Sam catches it easily but his eyes narrow with the knowledge that Dean is buttering him up before a guilty admission. He just can’t figure out what he has done. “Dean! What have you done?”
Dean puts his hands up in surrender, “I didn’t do anything,” he says.
“But you didn’t stop them from doing something stupid?”
“Cas should know better. Besides, it could be beautiful, Dorothy gets another chance with Apocalypse-Charlie and they all get to skip down the yellow brick road with a scarecrow.” Dean rushes the words out, takes a deep breath and when Sam glares without interrupting he continues, “Dorothy can do her whizzkid hunter training with ‘em, and we get our home to ourselves for a while. They’ll be back, no harm done,” He gives Sam a shit-eating grin.
Sam looks stern, “You gave them the key to Oz?”
“No! Like I said, they’re nosy. They’re lucky it wasn’t a cursed object.”
“Dean! You do remember evil-Charlie, don’t you?”
“See, Dorothy won’t let that happen twice,” Dean retorts.
Sam stands, an imposing Chief ready to retrieve his troops, “We have to open the door.”
Dean takes a swig of his beer, remains sitting. “Can’t. They took the key with ‘em.”
Sam’s shoulder’s drop.
“Which means, Chief, that they can click their red shoes and come home any time they want. Relax. Let them have an adventure. I got pie.” He rustles a bag at Sam, “And that tropical fruit salad you love. Read a book, enjoy some ‘us’ time.”
Sam looks around the bunker again, around their home and back into Dean’s big, green beseeching gaze. Dean says Sam uses puppy dog eyes but Dean can be every bit as successful with just a look. He sighs, imagines Dean struggling under water, drowning in Michael’s grace, and gives it up. Dean deserves this. “Okay, but we are going to get them back.”
“Fine. You hit the books,” Dean concedes smugly, kicking his long legs up to rest on the library table.
“Wanna get your ass handed to you in a game of Fußball first?” asks Sam with a soft smile.
Dean’s feet fall back to the floor with a whumpf, “Oh, baby bro, you are going to get your ass handed to you.”
It feels right, it feels great, and as they make their way through the green tiled hall to Dean’s cave, Sam relaxes.
There’s a ‘knock, knock, knocking’ noise coming from one of the rooms as they pass the door.
“I thought we were alone,” remarks Sam, curiously.
“Oh, man, I forgot to say, watch out for the flying monkeys in room 4,” Dean comments with an offhand shrug.
Sam nods, like Dean has made a perfectly ordinary comment, then they race and barge each other to the Fußball table for first kick-off. They will deal with missing hunters and flying monkeys later.
~end~
Comments are candy for my soul.