Supernatural drabbles: Not Going Under (Gen, PG)
Title: Not Going Under (3 drabbles)
Author: dotfic
Category: Gen
Characters: John, Dean, and Sam, at different times
Rating: PG
Spoilers: Vague, for "Route 666"
Summary: They've never let the tide take them and they never will.
Notes: Written for supernatural100 Challenge #28: Drowning.
I. Outnumbered
There are too many of them, claws sharp. He lashes out with knives.
Something wet seeps against his shirt. He can't smell the night air anymore, only something foul like rotted leather.
He's going under.
Then they fall away, to a series of loud bangs.
His son -- his twelve- year-old son, who had strict orders to stay in the car -- lowers the hand gun, face a hard blank at odds with a pug nose and freckles.
Fear undercuts a swelling of pride, knowing he made this, the young hand that should be trembling around the gun but isn't.
II. Unexpected
A barbed-wire fence separates the highway from the field. The sky's the color of dirty socks.
In the silence after he turns off the Impala's engine, the ache resonates clearly.
It was his own damn fault for confiding in her.
He lowers his forehead to the steering wheel. This hurts in ways he didn't think possible. It's bewildering.
The tide rises, his shoulders heave once.
And then he lifts his head, sucks in a deep breath, turns on the ignition, because he's never let the tide take him over before, and he's sure as hell not about to start now.
III. Overwhelmed
There are too many new faces all at once. He fumbles with the campus map, making yet more folds.
It's too hot, too bright. A car passes with open windows, harsh bass guitar and heavy drumbeats too loud on the radio, stinging him with homesickness (which is funny, since he has no home).
He sees the smile first, then the tumble of blonde hair and the hand on her hip just so, daring any of this to overwhelm her.
She's not smiling at him, but its warm curve steadies him and he can feel the ground beneath his feet again.
Author: dotfic
Category: Gen
Characters: John, Dean, and Sam, at different times
Rating: PG
Spoilers: Vague, for "Route 666"
Summary: They've never let the tide take them and they never will.
Notes: Written for supernatural100 Challenge #28: Drowning.
I. Outnumbered
There are too many of them, claws sharp. He lashes out with knives.
Something wet seeps against his shirt. He can't smell the night air anymore, only something foul like rotted leather.
He's going under.
Then they fall away, to a series of loud bangs.
His son -- his twelve- year-old son, who had strict orders to stay in the car -- lowers the hand gun, face a hard blank at odds with a pug nose and freckles.
Fear undercuts a swelling of pride, knowing he made this, the young hand that should be trembling around the gun but isn't.
II. Unexpected
A barbed-wire fence separates the highway from the field. The sky's the color of dirty socks.
In the silence after he turns off the Impala's engine, the ache resonates clearly.
It was his own damn fault for confiding in her.
He lowers his forehead to the steering wheel. This hurts in ways he didn't think possible. It's bewildering.
The tide rises, his shoulders heave once.
And then he lifts his head, sucks in a deep breath, turns on the ignition, because he's never let the tide take him over before, and he's sure as hell not about to start now.
III. Overwhelmed
There are too many new faces all at once. He fumbles with the campus map, making yet more folds.
It's too hot, too bright. A car passes with open windows, harsh bass guitar and heavy drumbeats too loud on the radio, stinging him with homesickness (which is funny, since he has no home).
He sees the smile first, then the tumble of blonde hair and the hand on her hip just so, daring any of this to overwhelm her.
She's not smiling at him, but its warm curve steadies him and he can feel the ground beneath his feet again.