Bedazzled - the End
Title: Bedazzled - Organization Post for other scenes
Author: goth_huntress
Movie Adapted: Bedazzled
Genre: Gen
Characters/Pairings: Sam, Dean
Rating: R (just in case)
Scene: 7/7
Word Count: 1164
Warnings: Dean swears - a lot - and there'll probably be some sex at some point.
Notes/Credits: Takes place 10 days after Dean's year is up.
Created for reel_spn
Disclaimer: No copyright infringement intended; fair use only. Not created for profit.
Wish Seven - The End
Sam ran out of the cheap motel, tears streaming down his face. It was colder than he expected, and the neon of the Motel 666 sign hissed and popped as he rushed out onto the highway. He held his thumb out for the first car that raced past him, and for the next five until one finally pulled over to pick him up. By then he was shivering and sat in silence as the trucker put his big rig back in gear. If Sam had been attention, he might have noticed the driver’s jet black eyes.
He leaned against the window. The events of his twisted, failed, wishes ran through his mind, over and over again, as he tried to figure out where he went wrong. Sam felt like a loser. He rubbed his hand over his forehead to see if there was an “L” branded there, because he felt like there should be one.
“Oh you can’t have that,” the Devil’s husky sexy voice came out of the scruffy truck driver’s mouth. “A brand is never a good idea on the face. You wouldn’t want to ruin your pretty face would you?”
“Go away,” Sam twisted in the seat, his brown eyes wide. “I told you to leave me alone. I don’t want you. I don’t want your wishes.”
“I’m afraid you don’t have a choice!” The Devil slammed on the brakes of the big rig, jackknifing it across the highway. The sound of metal tearing and stink of rubber burning mingled with sulfur in the cold desert air. “I will have your soul!”
As Sam brought his arms up to shield his face, he burst through the windshield as the truck came to a lurching stop like a dying dinosaur. Sam kept waiting for the earth to rise up to meet him, but he just kept falling. He finally opened his eyes a crack, as the air around him got hotter and hotter. Flames surrounded him on all sides, he was falling, but there was no bottom that he could see. He was falling straight into hell.
“Wait! You can’t do this!” he screamed but his voice was swallowed by the heat of the searing flames. “I have one wish left!”
Suddenly he landed with bone breaking force on a pinnacle of hardened lave barely four feet wide. He held out his arms to try to get his balance while the pain shot up his legs. Towering over him was the Devil. She was dressed in a sequined bikini that reflected the color of the flames, and she had a pitch fork longer than the Empire States Building posed to strike.
“You soul is mine Sam Winchester. Now make your wish, or I will strike you down.”
“Okay,” Sam winced. “I know what my last wish is. I’ll do it. I’ll make the last wish.”
“Good, I knew you could be reasonable.” She held the sharp end of the pitchfork out to him, and waited while he climbed on to pull him out of the fires of hell.
Sam clung to the pitchfork until he found his arms wrapped around the Devil’s shapely form. She was once again in a sleek shimmering low cut gown that left nothing to his imagination. “See isn’t this better?” she said giving him a kiss on the lips that ended somewhere near his toenails.
“I have my last wish.” Sam drew away from her. His eyes scanned his surroundings as he looked for his brother. “Where’s Dean?”
“He’s just getting me some refreshments.” She flounced across the office, and sat behind a glass and chrome desk lighting a cigarette. “Sit down. He’ll be back soon with something yummy.”
As if on command, which it was, Dean came into the room dressed like a waiter, white shirt, black bow tie and slacks. “Here you are ma’am,” he said holding out a tray for the Devil to take a glass of champagne and a cracker covered with black caviar. He then turned toward Sam, and offered him the tray that was now covered in chocolate chip cookies and a glass of milk. “And for you asshole?”
“Glad to see you’re still in there big brother,” Sam said as he took one of the cookies. He chewed on it, the sweet taste reminding him of all the good times he and Dean had shared amongst all the violence and chaos. “I’m going to make my wish now.”
“Just do it,” the Devil said turning to face him, as she leaned across the top of her desk giving Sam a view down her dress. “I can’t wait forever.”
“I just want Dean to have my wish. I don’t want to wish for me. I wish Dean’s soul to be free,” Sam sat back in the chair and waited for the flames to return. And waited and waited...
“Well all right then,” the Devil said her outfit changing to a black Armani business suit as she got up from behind the desk. She pulled Sam’s contract out of the morgue drawers she used for a filing cabinet, and tossed it into the fireplace where it instantly burned, the smoke turning into glowing white doves that flew up through the sky. “You’re free to go.”
“What?” Sam stammered as the office melted away to a sunny day in the park where children were playing on the playground, while dogs played Frisbee. “I’m free. But I made seven wishes.”
“Your last wish was for me,” Dean said as he came strolling from between the trees. He was dressed in a chambray shirt over a t-shirt with his worn leather coat on top of that. “I’m free Sammy. You set me free.”
“Does this mean, we can get back on the road, Dean?” Sam asked as he reached to hug his brother only to find his arms going right through him.
“Sorry little brother. I’m still dead. But I’m not in hell anymore. I’m free to go up top, and wait for my next chance. Think you should go find yourself a nice girl and have a kid or two. Chances are you’ll have a better time raising me the next time.” Dean hugged Sam back this time both Winchester brothers could feel the strength in Dean’s ghostly form. “I love you Sammy. See you soon.”
Sam sank down onto a picnic bench, and watched as Dean drove the Impala into the distance, never stopping for a red light or worrying about being pulled over again. “Good bye Dean.”
“Is it okay if I sit here?” A girl with long brown hair asked, her face so much like Jessica’s that Sam felt his heart lurch. She had a bright red lunch sack and a can of Diet Coke in her hand.
“Oh sure,” Sam said scooting over, so the girl had room to sit. “I’m Sam.”
“I’m Tammy,” she said with a smile. “Nice to meet you Sam.”
The End
Author: goth_huntress
Movie Adapted: Bedazzled
Genre: Gen
Characters/Pairings: Sam, Dean
Rating: R (just in case)
Scene: 7/7
Word Count: 1164
Warnings: Dean swears - a lot - and there'll probably be some sex at some point.
Notes/Credits: Takes place 10 days after Dean's year is up.
Created for reel_spn
Disclaimer: No copyright infringement intended; fair use only. Not created for profit.
Wish Seven - The End
Sam ran out of the cheap motel, tears streaming down his face. It was colder than he expected, and the neon of the Motel 666 sign hissed and popped as he rushed out onto the highway. He held his thumb out for the first car that raced past him, and for the next five until one finally pulled over to pick him up. By then he was shivering and sat in silence as the trucker put his big rig back in gear. If Sam had been attention, he might have noticed the driver’s jet black eyes.
He leaned against the window. The events of his twisted, failed, wishes ran through his mind, over and over again, as he tried to figure out where he went wrong. Sam felt like a loser. He rubbed his hand over his forehead to see if there was an “L” branded there, because he felt like there should be one.
“Oh you can’t have that,” the Devil’s husky sexy voice came out of the scruffy truck driver’s mouth. “A brand is never a good idea on the face. You wouldn’t want to ruin your pretty face would you?”
“Go away,” Sam twisted in the seat, his brown eyes wide. “I told you to leave me alone. I don’t want you. I don’t want your wishes.”
“I’m afraid you don’t have a choice!” The Devil slammed on the brakes of the big rig, jackknifing it across the highway. The sound of metal tearing and stink of rubber burning mingled with sulfur in the cold desert air. “I will have your soul!”
As Sam brought his arms up to shield his face, he burst through the windshield as the truck came to a lurching stop like a dying dinosaur. Sam kept waiting for the earth to rise up to meet him, but he just kept falling. He finally opened his eyes a crack, as the air around him got hotter and hotter. Flames surrounded him on all sides, he was falling, but there was no bottom that he could see. He was falling straight into hell.
“Wait! You can’t do this!” he screamed but his voice was swallowed by the heat of the searing flames. “I have one wish left!”
Suddenly he landed with bone breaking force on a pinnacle of hardened lave barely four feet wide. He held out his arms to try to get his balance while the pain shot up his legs. Towering over him was the Devil. She was dressed in a sequined bikini that reflected the color of the flames, and she had a pitch fork longer than the Empire States Building posed to strike.
“You soul is mine Sam Winchester. Now make your wish, or I will strike you down.”
“Okay,” Sam winced. “I know what my last wish is. I’ll do it. I’ll make the last wish.”
“Good, I knew you could be reasonable.” She held the sharp end of the pitchfork out to him, and waited while he climbed on to pull him out of the fires of hell.
Sam clung to the pitchfork until he found his arms wrapped around the Devil’s shapely form. She was once again in a sleek shimmering low cut gown that left nothing to his imagination. “See isn’t this better?” she said giving him a kiss on the lips that ended somewhere near his toenails.
“I have my last wish.” Sam drew away from her. His eyes scanned his surroundings as he looked for his brother. “Where’s Dean?”
“He’s just getting me some refreshments.” She flounced across the office, and sat behind a glass and chrome desk lighting a cigarette. “Sit down. He’ll be back soon with something yummy.”
As if on command, which it was, Dean came into the room dressed like a waiter, white shirt, black bow tie and slacks. “Here you are ma’am,” he said holding out a tray for the Devil to take a glass of champagne and a cracker covered with black caviar. He then turned toward Sam, and offered him the tray that was now covered in chocolate chip cookies and a glass of milk. “And for you asshole?”
“Glad to see you’re still in there big brother,” Sam said as he took one of the cookies. He chewed on it, the sweet taste reminding him of all the good times he and Dean had shared amongst all the violence and chaos. “I’m going to make my wish now.”
“Just do it,” the Devil said turning to face him, as she leaned across the top of her desk giving Sam a view down her dress. “I can’t wait forever.”
“I just want Dean to have my wish. I don’t want to wish for me. I wish Dean’s soul to be free,” Sam sat back in the chair and waited for the flames to return. And waited and waited...
“Well all right then,” the Devil said her outfit changing to a black Armani business suit as she got up from behind the desk. She pulled Sam’s contract out of the morgue drawers she used for a filing cabinet, and tossed it into the fireplace where it instantly burned, the smoke turning into glowing white doves that flew up through the sky. “You’re free to go.”
“What?” Sam stammered as the office melted away to a sunny day in the park where children were playing on the playground, while dogs played Frisbee. “I’m free. But I made seven wishes.”
“Your last wish was for me,” Dean said as he came strolling from between the trees. He was dressed in a chambray shirt over a t-shirt with his worn leather coat on top of that. “I’m free Sammy. You set me free.”
“Does this mean, we can get back on the road, Dean?” Sam asked as he reached to hug his brother only to find his arms going right through him.
“Sorry little brother. I’m still dead. But I’m not in hell anymore. I’m free to go up top, and wait for my next chance. Think you should go find yourself a nice girl and have a kid or two. Chances are you’ll have a better time raising me the next time.” Dean hugged Sam back this time both Winchester brothers could feel the strength in Dean’s ghostly form. “I love you Sammy. See you soon.”
Sam sank down onto a picnic bench, and watched as Dean drove the Impala into the distance, never stopping for a red light or worrying about being pulled over again. “Good bye Dean.”
“Is it okay if I sit here?” A girl with long brown hair asked, her face so much like Jessica’s that Sam felt his heart lurch. She had a bright red lunch sack and a can of Diet Coke in her hand.
“Oh sure,” Sam said scooting over, so the girl had room to sit. “I’m Sam.”
“I’m Tammy,” she said with a smile. “Nice to meet you Sam.”
The End