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Title: Time is Tight Part Three: What Lies Beyond 1/6
Author: Mich
Rating: R for violence/language
Genre: AU, gen
Spoilers: up through episode 1.22 Devil's Trap
Summary: Finally. The cabin in the woods. Sam, Dean, Jayme, and John. Where does the road go from here?
1
It had been a simple choice that was no choice at all.
The bullets for the Colt were limited, but using one to save Sam had been beyond question. It instantly killed the demon who was trying to beat the life out of him, before Jayme could even think of changing into her beast form and taking his head off.
When he’d gone back to his father, his battered and bloody brother clearly having trouble keeping upright, Jayme was already on her feet, John draped over her shoulders. It was a completely unreal image, her slim form holding his much larger one up as if it were no trouble at all. But it was a relief nonetheless-Dean could focus his attention on Sam.
They got to safety and Dean just held Sam for a moment, so ridiculously grateful his baby brother and father were alive that there were no words.
“Dean, keys,” Jayme said, coming around the back of the car. “I’ll drive.”
He handed them over.
“Takin’ a chance lettin’ her drive?” John said.
“You’ve never seen her handle a car,” Dean said, getting Sam settled in the back seat.
Dean was true to his word. She drove with precision, arrowing through town and out without coming anywhere near the sirens that had chased them from the scene. Once on the open road she gunned the engine, piloting the big car as if she’d been driving for fifty years-which, the three Winchesters realized, she had.
“Where are we going?” John asked.
“Hiding place,” she said. “Abandoned piece of shit out in the middle of nowhere but it is off everyone’s radar.”
John nodded and watched the window like he was memorizing the route.
Dean kept turning around, checking on Sam to make sure he was still awake. There hadn’t been time to stop and do any healing, and the sight of blood streaking his brother’s face made his stomach churn.
But he was alive. Dad was alive, Sam was alive, and they had managed to escape from who knew how many demons. Meg-or rather, the demon who had been possessing her for who knew how long-was gone, sent back to Hell where she belonged, and they still had the Colt. One fewer bullet, but two were still left. Enough to get the job done. Yellow Eyes was still out there, but Dean figured their current situation was as good as he had any right to hope for.
They arrived well after dark, Jayme pulling the car around the back of the cabin and shutting down the lights and engine. She stepped out, sniffing the air carefully. Convinced that there was no one around, Jayme opened the back door and helped John out, nearly carrying him inside.
Dean followed with Sam.
Jayme got John settled in the back room, then came out, finding Dean already tending to Sam’s wounds.
“He’s resting. He should be fine,” she said. She came over, holding Sam’s hair back so Dean could work on his swollen eye. “How you doin’, Sam?”
“Been worse,” he sighed.
She moved her fingers down, cupping the back of his head to help hold it steady. “I’m sure. I’m sorry I didn’t change. I should have, people seeing be damned.”
“Jayme, it’s okay. You probably wouldn’t have done me any good and you might have been seen. That would have just made everything worse. You’re lucky Monica didn’t see you.”
“I know, but-”
“He’s right, Jaymes,” Dean said, lifting Sam’s much less swollen eyelid to check his eye. “I know you want to help but you did the right thing staying with Dad.”
“I’m just glad you’re all right, Sam. Thanks to this badass here,” she said, patting Dean’s shoulder. Dean just shrugged, concentrating on Sam’s eye.
“I just . . . that guy I shot. He’s just a guy. And now he’s dead,” Dean said. “Sometimes the things I’ll do for this family . . . it scares me a little.”
“There’s nothing dishonorable about fighting to protect your loved ones,” Jayme said.
Dean just glanced down, avoiding her gaze. It usually meant the words had hit a sore spot.
“I can’t absolve your guilt, Dean, but all the same-I’m glad you made the choice you did. If you’d chosen him, Sam might be dead. Sometimes those’re the cards you’re dealt.”
“She’s right, son. You did the right thing.”
Dean turned to face John. “Dad?” He looked rough, but more alert than when they’d found him. He pushed off the door frame, moving into the room more steadily.
“That demon would have killed Sam and you-all of us-if you hadn’t stopped him.”
Dean nodded.
“You’re not mad?” Sam asked.
“You did what you had to do, Dean. I know Sam and I can get a little obsessive.”
“A little?” Jayme said, giving John a knowing look.
“But Dad,” Dean said. “I used a bullet.”
“I know. And it’s okay.” The lights suddenly flickered, sending all four bolt upright. “He’s here, he’s found us,” John said, backing up. “Sam, salt the windows and the doors, all the entrances.”
“Already did,” Sam said.
“Well check it again!” John ordered.
Sam groaned and stood, moving to do as he was told.
John turned from the window. “Dean, gimme the gun.”
“Dad, Sam already tried back in Iowa.”
“But I won’t miss,” John said, his hand out.
Jayme tilted her head. “Sam didn’t miss. It was a good shot, hit the damn thing head on.”
“No, he didn’t hit it, otherwise we wouldn’t be here.” He looked back at Dean. “Give me the gun and quit playing around, Dean!”
The gun was out and in Dean’s hand, but he stayed where he was, making no move to hand it over. Jayme backed up, turning her body slightly into what Dean recognized as a ready position. It hadn’t taken her long to learn to read his bodily cues. She’d learned it far faster than Sam.
Sam returned from the other room. “Dean? What’s going on?”
“Dean, we don’t have time for this! I gave you an order!”
Jayme’s voice grew cold. “I think it’s about time you stopped giving orders.”
Dean raised the Colt and pointed it at his father’s head. “You’re not my father.”
“Dean, what the hell are you doing?”
“I know my father better than anyone. He’d be furious that I wasted a bullet.” Dean’s voice was steady and deadly. “You’re not my dad.”
“Dean, what the hell are you talking about?” Sam said, quickly reading the expressions on Dean’s and Jayme’s faces. He turned, looking at John for a moment before backing up to join them.
“Sam, your brother’s gone crazy. Come on-you know me. We have a chance to end this once and for all but you need to give me the gun and trust me.”
“No,” Sam said. “Dean’s right. You’re not our dad.”
John shook his head sadly, looking down at the floor. When his gaze drew back up to level, his eyes were swirls of yellow.
Chapter Two
Author: Mich
Rating: R for violence/language
Genre: AU, gen
Spoilers: up through episode 1.22 Devil's Trap
Summary: Finally. The cabin in the woods. Sam, Dean, Jayme, and John. Where does the road go from here?
1
It had been a simple choice that was no choice at all.
The bullets for the Colt were limited, but using one to save Sam had been beyond question. It instantly killed the demon who was trying to beat the life out of him, before Jayme could even think of changing into her beast form and taking his head off.
When he’d gone back to his father, his battered and bloody brother clearly having trouble keeping upright, Jayme was already on her feet, John draped over her shoulders. It was a completely unreal image, her slim form holding his much larger one up as if it were no trouble at all. But it was a relief nonetheless-Dean could focus his attention on Sam.
They got to safety and Dean just held Sam for a moment, so ridiculously grateful his baby brother and father were alive that there were no words.
“Dean, keys,” Jayme said, coming around the back of the car. “I’ll drive.”
He handed them over.
“Takin’ a chance lettin’ her drive?” John said.
“You’ve never seen her handle a car,” Dean said, getting Sam settled in the back seat.
Dean was true to his word. She drove with precision, arrowing through town and out without coming anywhere near the sirens that had chased them from the scene. Once on the open road she gunned the engine, piloting the big car as if she’d been driving for fifty years-which, the three Winchesters realized, she had.
“Where are we going?” John asked.
“Hiding place,” she said. “Abandoned piece of shit out in the middle of nowhere but it is off everyone’s radar.”
John nodded and watched the window like he was memorizing the route.
Dean kept turning around, checking on Sam to make sure he was still awake. There hadn’t been time to stop and do any healing, and the sight of blood streaking his brother’s face made his stomach churn.
But he was alive. Dad was alive, Sam was alive, and they had managed to escape from who knew how many demons. Meg-or rather, the demon who had been possessing her for who knew how long-was gone, sent back to Hell where she belonged, and they still had the Colt. One fewer bullet, but two were still left. Enough to get the job done. Yellow Eyes was still out there, but Dean figured their current situation was as good as he had any right to hope for.
They arrived well after dark, Jayme pulling the car around the back of the cabin and shutting down the lights and engine. She stepped out, sniffing the air carefully. Convinced that there was no one around, Jayme opened the back door and helped John out, nearly carrying him inside.
Dean followed with Sam.
Jayme got John settled in the back room, then came out, finding Dean already tending to Sam’s wounds.
“He’s resting. He should be fine,” she said. She came over, holding Sam’s hair back so Dean could work on his swollen eye. “How you doin’, Sam?”
“Been worse,” he sighed.
She moved her fingers down, cupping the back of his head to help hold it steady. “I’m sure. I’m sorry I didn’t change. I should have, people seeing be damned.”
“Jayme, it’s okay. You probably wouldn’t have done me any good and you might have been seen. That would have just made everything worse. You’re lucky Monica didn’t see you.”
“I know, but-”
“He’s right, Jaymes,” Dean said, lifting Sam’s much less swollen eyelid to check his eye. “I know you want to help but you did the right thing staying with Dad.”
“I’m just glad you’re all right, Sam. Thanks to this badass here,” she said, patting Dean’s shoulder. Dean just shrugged, concentrating on Sam’s eye.
“I just . . . that guy I shot. He’s just a guy. And now he’s dead,” Dean said. “Sometimes the things I’ll do for this family . . . it scares me a little.”
“There’s nothing dishonorable about fighting to protect your loved ones,” Jayme said.
Dean just glanced down, avoiding her gaze. It usually meant the words had hit a sore spot.
“I can’t absolve your guilt, Dean, but all the same-I’m glad you made the choice you did. If you’d chosen him, Sam might be dead. Sometimes those’re the cards you’re dealt.”
“She’s right, son. You did the right thing.”
Dean turned to face John. “Dad?” He looked rough, but more alert than when they’d found him. He pushed off the door frame, moving into the room more steadily.
“That demon would have killed Sam and you-all of us-if you hadn’t stopped him.”
Dean nodded.
“You’re not mad?” Sam asked.
“You did what you had to do, Dean. I know Sam and I can get a little obsessive.”
“A little?” Jayme said, giving John a knowing look.
“But Dad,” Dean said. “I used a bullet.”
“I know. And it’s okay.” The lights suddenly flickered, sending all four bolt upright. “He’s here, he’s found us,” John said, backing up. “Sam, salt the windows and the doors, all the entrances.”
“Already did,” Sam said.
“Well check it again!” John ordered.
Sam groaned and stood, moving to do as he was told.
John turned from the window. “Dean, gimme the gun.”
“Dad, Sam already tried back in Iowa.”
“But I won’t miss,” John said, his hand out.
Jayme tilted her head. “Sam didn’t miss. It was a good shot, hit the damn thing head on.”
“No, he didn’t hit it, otherwise we wouldn’t be here.” He looked back at Dean. “Give me the gun and quit playing around, Dean!”
The gun was out and in Dean’s hand, but he stayed where he was, making no move to hand it over. Jayme backed up, turning her body slightly into what Dean recognized as a ready position. It hadn’t taken her long to learn to read his bodily cues. She’d learned it far faster than Sam.
Sam returned from the other room. “Dean? What’s going on?”
“Dean, we don’t have time for this! I gave you an order!”
Jayme’s voice grew cold. “I think it’s about time you stopped giving orders.”
Dean raised the Colt and pointed it at his father’s head. “You’re not my father.”
“Dean, what the hell are you doing?”
“I know my father better than anyone. He’d be furious that I wasted a bullet.” Dean’s voice was steady and deadly. “You’re not my dad.”
“Dean, what the hell are you talking about?” Sam said, quickly reading the expressions on Dean’s and Jayme’s faces. He turned, looking at John for a moment before backing up to join them.
“Sam, your brother’s gone crazy. Come on-you know me. We have a chance to end this once and for all but you need to give me the gun and trust me.”
“No,” Sam said. “Dean’s right. You’re not our dad.”
John shook his head sadly, looking down at the floor. When his gaze drew back up to level, his eyes were swirls of yellow.
Chapter Two