OC_BigBang Fanfic- Blackwood Creek 1/12
Title- Blackwood Creek 1/12
Fandom- Supernatural, focusing on OCs
Ship- Logan(OMC)/Jake(OMC)
Rating- PG-13
Genre- slash, action, drama, romance, plotty
Warnings- violence, m/m kissing
Wordcount- 1,500
Summary- Jake is a normal kid- except for the one month a year he spends at Blackwood Creek Hunters' Camp. At almost 18, he hopes to become a real hunter instead of going to college, but he doesn't want his last year of camp to go by too quickly.
A/N- written for 2011 oc_bigbang
Disclaimer- I did not come up with this world, but the idea of a hunters’ summer camp is mine. I did not create the Winchesters or Elkins, but all the rest of the characters mentioned in here are mine.
Beta- skylar_matthews
*** Master Post *** Next Chapter ***
Jacob Wright shifted anxiously in his bus seat as he saw a familiar sign fly past his window. He was maybe twenty minutes from his destination now, and the anticipation was making his heart pound and his hands fidget. He leaned against the window, trying to see as much of the road ahead as possible although he knew that for the moment he would see nothing but the beautiful landscape of tall pines, blue sky, and open road.
A grin played on Jake’s face as he looked out. He could see it now in his mind, the bus stop just outside the little town of Blackwood Grove, Michigan; the well-known streets he would walk along within the town; the long road he would follow outside city limits, with forest and farmland on either side as far as the eye could see, until he came to the repurposed farmhouse distant enough from the others to be almost isolated: Blackwood Creek Hunters’ Camp.
Blackwood Creek, so named for the little river that ran through the property, was a summer camp of sorts. It wasn’t, Jake thought with a little smile, the sort of place the average family would send their children to experience nature. Blackwood Creek was a private camp, known only to a select few and advertised by word of mouth. It was meant to take children off their parents’ hands for a month and train them up in the family business: hunting the monsters that most of the world didn’t know existed.
Jake, however, was different from most of the campers who had stayed at Blackwood Creek over the years. Jake didn’t get left there while his parent or parents went on a hunt; he didn’t spend the rest of the year traveling with a hunter parent as they pursued supernatural beings. No, instead Jake spent the school year with his English teacher mother in Indianapolis, his next math test and the upcoming soccer game his biggest worries. Apart from July and August, Jake’s life was effectively that of a civilian. Except that he knew what was hidden in the darkness outside the safety of his little house.
Jake’s parents had split up when he was young, because his father, a hunter, had not wanted to endanger his mother, a civilian. Malcolm Wright had hoped that his knowledge would protect his wife, but after a shapeshifter he’d been hunting took on his form and almost killed her and two-year-old Jake, he had left his family and gone back to his former life as an itinerant hunter. When Jake was eight, his father had returned with news of Blackwood Creek Hunters’ Camp. He’d wanted his son to go, so that Jake would be able to protect himself if he needed to, and Jake’s mother had agreed. Since then, Jake’s year was split between his mother’s average civilian life during the school year and his father’s hunter life in the summer. For four weeks in July he trained at Blackwood Creek and in August his father took a break from hunting and went camping with Jake, the only time of the year that they saw each other.
Jake loved the summer months. He looked forward to them all year round, with a much greater intensity and longing than any of the civilian kids he went to school with. He hated the mundane, boring life he led during the school year and dreamed of spending the entire year traveling with his father, hunting down monsters that preyed on innocent people. Jake was almost eighteen and he was looking forward to the day when he would no longer be bound by his parents’ arrangement. Although he’d gone through the motions of applying to college and declaring a school, Jake was secretly planning -hoping- to buy a used car, pack up his guns and other gear he’d learned to use at Blackwood Creek, and travel the country in search of a hunt. He was planning to talk to his father about it when they met in August.
Jake hoped that his father would understand that he was ready. More than ready. He had been trained, had attended Blackwood Creek for nine years already, but Jake had never been on a real hunt. He had assisted in finding peculiar deaths or patterns in obituaries from papers printed throughout the nation. He had salted and burned the bodies of ghosts the camp coordinators had tracked down, while an adult looked on. He had even exorcised a demon from a person one of the camp directors had brought back from a nearby town, with someone looking over his shoulder the entire time. But Jake had never done anything outside of strict adult supervision. He had never done anything on his own. And he wanted a chance to prove himself.
Jake wanted to live the exciting, dangerous life of a hunter. He longed for the rush that came with a pattern in news articles finally clicking into place, the pulse-pounding anticipation of preparing to go after the thing, the near-death experience of fighting against something with inhuman strength, the thrill of finally killing a monster, the satisfaction of knowing without a doubt that he had saved lives. But most of all Jake wanted the pride and sense of accomplishment that came from doing this by himself, without someone standing by to catch him if he slipped up. He couldn’t wait until the end of his tenth and final year of camp when he could talk to his father about his decision to abandon college and a civilian life and become a hunter. Jake hoped that he might be able to convince his father to skip their usual camping trip and take Jake with him on his next hunt.
But, Jake thought as he shifted again in his seat, he didn’t want his last year of camp to be over too quickly. Jake loved Blackwood Creek, and it made him somewhat sad to know he would never be able to attend again. It had been the backdrop for so many good memories. Truly, if Jake were honest with himself, almost all of his good memories centered on Blackwood Creek.
For all Jake complained about being old enough to hunt on his own, he wasn’t the only person at Blackwood Creek who had never gone hunting. In fact, the four other campers who had been there the last year had also never been on a hunt. Even Rae Stevens, who was only a few months younger than Jake and traveled year-round with her hunter parents, had never actually assisted her parents in a hunt. That made Jake, the only camper in their last year who had attended since the minimum age requirement, eight years, the eldest and most experienced of the campers.
Jake had to admit, it wasn’t as though he was treated like a child at the camp. The younger campers looked him up to him, Rae notwithstanding, and went to him with all of their problems and questions. The owner of the camp, Vince Barrett, and the woman who helped him run it, Kaylo Mewes, gave Jake more freedom than any of the other campers, including Rae. He alone had access to the keys of the cars and the silo, where the weapons were stored. He alone was trusted to run errands into town, or to instruct the younger campers on shooting or gun maintenance. He had even been allowed to assist Kaylo in supervising, when Megan Ross attempted her first salt and burn.
During the school year, Jake was an average kid. He had little responsibility, little authority, and little excitement. During the summer, however, his life was completely different. He was trained and even got practice in fighting supernatural beings that his classmates thought only existed in legends and horror movies. He was treated like a camp coordinator in his own right, both by Barrett and Kaylo, and by the other campers. He was a different person during the summer from the one his friends at school knew. And that was the person he wanted to be for the rest of his life.
Jake was shaken from his thoughts when the bus pulled to a stop before a dusty sign proclaiming their arrival at the turnoff point for Blackwood Grove, MI, population 17,000. Almost shaking with excitement, Jake picked up his duffle bag from the seat next to him and stepped off of the bus. As it pulled away behind him he inhaled deeply the clean, fresh country air, a grin spreading across his face. He took off through the town at a trot, following roads that had long since been burned into his memory. Just two miles to cover and he would be at Blackwood Creek, a place that was more home to him than the house he lived in ten months out of the year. Two more miles and he’d be home.
*** Master Post *** Next Chapter ***
Fandom- Supernatural, focusing on OCs
Ship- Logan(OMC)/Jake(OMC)
Rating- PG-13
Genre- slash, action, drama, romance, plotty
Warnings- violence, m/m kissing
Wordcount- 1,500
Summary- Jake is a normal kid- except for the one month a year he spends at Blackwood Creek Hunters' Camp. At almost 18, he hopes to become a real hunter instead of going to college, but he doesn't want his last year of camp to go by too quickly.
A/N- written for 2011 oc_bigbang
Disclaimer- I did not come up with this world, but the idea of a hunters’ summer camp is mine. I did not create the Winchesters or Elkins, but all the rest of the characters mentioned in here are mine.
Beta- skylar_matthews
*** Master Post *** Next Chapter ***
Jacob Wright shifted anxiously in his bus seat as he saw a familiar sign fly past his window. He was maybe twenty minutes from his destination now, and the anticipation was making his heart pound and his hands fidget. He leaned against the window, trying to see as much of the road ahead as possible although he knew that for the moment he would see nothing but the beautiful landscape of tall pines, blue sky, and open road.
A grin played on Jake’s face as he looked out. He could see it now in his mind, the bus stop just outside the little town of Blackwood Grove, Michigan; the well-known streets he would walk along within the town; the long road he would follow outside city limits, with forest and farmland on either side as far as the eye could see, until he came to the repurposed farmhouse distant enough from the others to be almost isolated: Blackwood Creek Hunters’ Camp.
Blackwood Creek, so named for the little river that ran through the property, was a summer camp of sorts. It wasn’t, Jake thought with a little smile, the sort of place the average family would send their children to experience nature. Blackwood Creek was a private camp, known only to a select few and advertised by word of mouth. It was meant to take children off their parents’ hands for a month and train them up in the family business: hunting the monsters that most of the world didn’t know existed.
Jake, however, was different from most of the campers who had stayed at Blackwood Creek over the years. Jake didn’t get left there while his parent or parents went on a hunt; he didn’t spend the rest of the year traveling with a hunter parent as they pursued supernatural beings. No, instead Jake spent the school year with his English teacher mother in Indianapolis, his next math test and the upcoming soccer game his biggest worries. Apart from July and August, Jake’s life was effectively that of a civilian. Except that he knew what was hidden in the darkness outside the safety of his little house.
Jake’s parents had split up when he was young, because his father, a hunter, had not wanted to endanger his mother, a civilian. Malcolm Wright had hoped that his knowledge would protect his wife, but after a shapeshifter he’d been hunting took on his form and almost killed her and two-year-old Jake, he had left his family and gone back to his former life as an itinerant hunter. When Jake was eight, his father had returned with news of Blackwood Creek Hunters’ Camp. He’d wanted his son to go, so that Jake would be able to protect himself if he needed to, and Jake’s mother had agreed. Since then, Jake’s year was split between his mother’s average civilian life during the school year and his father’s hunter life in the summer. For four weeks in July he trained at Blackwood Creek and in August his father took a break from hunting and went camping with Jake, the only time of the year that they saw each other.
Jake loved the summer months. He looked forward to them all year round, with a much greater intensity and longing than any of the civilian kids he went to school with. He hated the mundane, boring life he led during the school year and dreamed of spending the entire year traveling with his father, hunting down monsters that preyed on innocent people. Jake was almost eighteen and he was looking forward to the day when he would no longer be bound by his parents’ arrangement. Although he’d gone through the motions of applying to college and declaring a school, Jake was secretly planning -hoping- to buy a used car, pack up his guns and other gear he’d learned to use at Blackwood Creek, and travel the country in search of a hunt. He was planning to talk to his father about it when they met in August.
Jake hoped that his father would understand that he was ready. More than ready. He had been trained, had attended Blackwood Creek for nine years already, but Jake had never been on a real hunt. He had assisted in finding peculiar deaths or patterns in obituaries from papers printed throughout the nation. He had salted and burned the bodies of ghosts the camp coordinators had tracked down, while an adult looked on. He had even exorcised a demon from a person one of the camp directors had brought back from a nearby town, with someone looking over his shoulder the entire time. But Jake had never done anything outside of strict adult supervision. He had never done anything on his own. And he wanted a chance to prove himself.
Jake wanted to live the exciting, dangerous life of a hunter. He longed for the rush that came with a pattern in news articles finally clicking into place, the pulse-pounding anticipation of preparing to go after the thing, the near-death experience of fighting against something with inhuman strength, the thrill of finally killing a monster, the satisfaction of knowing without a doubt that he had saved lives. But most of all Jake wanted the pride and sense of accomplishment that came from doing this by himself, without someone standing by to catch him if he slipped up. He couldn’t wait until the end of his tenth and final year of camp when he could talk to his father about his decision to abandon college and a civilian life and become a hunter. Jake hoped that he might be able to convince his father to skip their usual camping trip and take Jake with him on his next hunt.
But, Jake thought as he shifted again in his seat, he didn’t want his last year of camp to be over too quickly. Jake loved Blackwood Creek, and it made him somewhat sad to know he would never be able to attend again. It had been the backdrop for so many good memories. Truly, if Jake were honest with himself, almost all of his good memories centered on Blackwood Creek.
For all Jake complained about being old enough to hunt on his own, he wasn’t the only person at Blackwood Creek who had never gone hunting. In fact, the four other campers who had been there the last year had also never been on a hunt. Even Rae Stevens, who was only a few months younger than Jake and traveled year-round with her hunter parents, had never actually assisted her parents in a hunt. That made Jake, the only camper in their last year who had attended since the minimum age requirement, eight years, the eldest and most experienced of the campers.
Jake had to admit, it wasn’t as though he was treated like a child at the camp. The younger campers looked him up to him, Rae notwithstanding, and went to him with all of their problems and questions. The owner of the camp, Vince Barrett, and the woman who helped him run it, Kaylo Mewes, gave Jake more freedom than any of the other campers, including Rae. He alone had access to the keys of the cars and the silo, where the weapons were stored. He alone was trusted to run errands into town, or to instruct the younger campers on shooting or gun maintenance. He had even been allowed to assist Kaylo in supervising, when Megan Ross attempted her first salt and burn.
During the school year, Jake was an average kid. He had little responsibility, little authority, and little excitement. During the summer, however, his life was completely different. He was trained and even got practice in fighting supernatural beings that his classmates thought only existed in legends and horror movies. He was treated like a camp coordinator in his own right, both by Barrett and Kaylo, and by the other campers. He was a different person during the summer from the one his friends at school knew. And that was the person he wanted to be for the rest of his life.
Jake was shaken from his thoughts when the bus pulled to a stop before a dusty sign proclaiming their arrival at the turnoff point for Blackwood Grove, MI, population 17,000. Almost shaking with excitement, Jake picked up his duffle bag from the seat next to him and stepped off of the bus. As it pulled away behind him he inhaled deeply the clean, fresh country air, a grin spreading across his face. He took off through the town at a trot, following roads that had long since been burned into his memory. Just two miles to cover and he would be at Blackwood Creek, a place that was more home to him than the house he lived in ten months out of the year. Two more miles and he’d be home.
*** Master Post *** Next Chapter ***