True Family
Title: True Family
Rating: PG
Length: One-shot (1234 words)
Pairings: implied Sam/Bishop
Era: Nothing directly stated (implied either SPN pre-season 05, or AU)
Warnings: Slight spoilers for Being Human (US)
Summary: "They arrived in Boston late that night, after having driven all day long."
Note: Written for the "SPN Xover" challenge on spnland; prompt - 'Crossover Supernatural with any fandom.' [Crossed with Being Human (US)]
It hadn't taken them long to find a new case. Shortly after taking care of the coven of witches in Ann Arbor, the werewolf in Nashville, and the spirits in St. Louis, Sam and Dean Winchester were resting up outside of a small no-name town in Indiana when they caught wind of their next destination.
"Boston," said Sam, causing Dean to look over from the television at his brother. Sam was sitting at the desk, his laptop open and the internet up, articles open in several different tabs on his browser. But it was one in particular, however, that had caught the younger Winchester's attention and made him interrupt his brother's viewing of whatever random program it was he was watching.
"What?" asked Dean.
"Boston," said Sam, sighing.
Dean got up from the bed where he had been lounging and headed over to the desk. He stood behind Sam and looked over his brother's shoulder, attempting to read the articles on the computer.
"What's in Boston?" he asked, apparently having giving up on finding out the answer for himself as he sat down in one of the chairs instead.
Sam shrugged and turned back to the computer. "Signs of a vampire attack," he said. He scanned over the article. "Uh, let's see ... massive blood loss ... ripped throats ... teeth marks ... yep, it's all here."
Dean nodded and got up, heading back to his bed. "Okay then," he said as he picked the remote back up. "Sounds good to me." He turned the volume back up. "We'll head on out to Boston in the morning."
*
They arrived in Boston late that night, having driven solidly all day long. It had been a long trip, and Dean was tired. The nearly full moon gave them enough light to see by as they grabbed their bags out of the Impala and entered yet another new motel room in yet another new city.
Dean collapsed on the bed the moment he came in the room as Sam put his stuff down on the desk.
"I'm gonna head out for a bit," he said, grinning as Dean just grunted against the pillow, apparently already halfway to the realm of blissful unconsciousness. "You want me to get you anything? For later?" Another wordless mumble was all Sam got as an answer, and he chose to interpret it as a 'Yes, Sam, pick me up anything you wish. You're an awesome brother for being so considerate.'
Sam headed to the nearest food establishment he could find, a small little diner just a few blocks from the motel. A few cars were scattered throughout the parking lot, even though the time was nearing midnight. He opened the door to enter - and right into a young woman, instinctively reaching out to catch her.
Apologies spilled simultaneously from both of them.
"Sorry-"
"Sorry-"
"Um, yeah, sorry about that," said Sam, chuckling nervously.
"Not a problem," said the woman, and Sam looked at her closer. She had dark red hair, her skin light, and he kind of liked the way she smiled -- He shook his head, trying to clear those thoughts from his mind. Now's definitely not the time, he thought.
"I'm Sam," he said instead, watching her.
"Rebecca." She smiled. "So, Sam ... what are you doing tonight?"
*
Dean woke up several hours later, groggily turning over to look at the glowing motel clock on the bedside table.
2:17 A.M.
His stomach growled, and he glanced over at the other bed, ready to tear Sam a new one over forgetting the food or not waking him up or whatever it was Sam had done this time --
Except the bed was empty.
And there was no sign that Sam had ever returned.
"Damn it," muttered Dean as he got up and, trying to ignore the growing worry that was beginning to gnaw at him, grabbed his jacket and gun and headed out to the Impala.
*
"--find him?"
"The diner down on Route 9."
Voices slowly started to intrude on Sam's blissful unconsciousness, and he was rather annoyed with that little fact. He wanted to tell them to shut up, to leave him alone, to let him go right back to sleep ...
Except, somehow, he knew that sleeping was probably a bad idea.
He felt a warm hand caress his cheek, brushing back a strand of his hair.
"Wake up, Sam," one of the voices whispered. It wasn't the female - the one he recognized from before - what was her name? Robin? Rachel? Rebecca?
This was someone else.
Someone he thought he should maybe be afraid of -- should maybe have reason to hate, even -- but he couldn't.
The gentle touches continued, and Sam subconsciously leaned into them, seeking them out. He could feel the strength, the power, in this individual, and he yearned for it ...
And they were just so comforting ...
When he finally opened his eyes, he was met with a strong blue gaze looking back at him and a head of short, bright, yellow hair. The elder man was smiling gently down at him.
"Well, good morning," he said, smirking slightly. He continued to caress Sam's face, and even though he was awake, Sam still didn't seem to mind. "How are you feeling?"
Sam looked around. He was lying on a simple little bed, in a simple little room, and it was just the three of them - him, the man, and the woman he'd met at the diner - in there. There was nothing to tell him anything about what had happened to him ever since he'd introduced himself to ... Rebecca! That's it!
Rebecca was standing near the back, and if Sam didn't know any better, he'd say she looked a bit nervous. Or anxious.
He turned to the man who was still barely a few feet from him. Somehow, he got the feeling that this person wouldn't lie to him, would tell him the truth if he asked. So he gave it a shot.
"Fine, I guess, but um ... what happened?"
The man looked at him, but spoke over his shoulder. "Rebecca, why don't you leave us for a moment," he said, his tone making it clear he expected no argument.
"But Bishop --"
"I said, leave."
Rebecca didn't stay to argue. Barely a second passed before it was just Sam and the man. No, 'Bishop.' That's what Rebecca had called him.
"So, uh, Bishop?" Sam asked, and the man nodded. "Are you going to tell me what happened now, or ..."
Bishop nodded again and smiled. "It's rather simple," he said. He sat down next to Sam and, taking the young Winchester's face gently in his hands, looked him in the eyes.
"You came home."
And Sam didn't really care about anything else when, after Bishop laid a small kiss on his forehead, he bit into Sam's neck. Sam could feel the blood flowing from where the vampire's fangs had penetrated, but it didn't matter.
Not when Bishop continued to whisper so gently to him, to promise him that he was home, that he would belong again.
That Sam was finally with his true family.
~*~
Finite!
~Megan
Rating: PG
Length: One-shot (1234 words)
Pairings: implied Sam/Bishop
Era: Nothing directly stated (implied either SPN pre-season 05, or AU)
Warnings: Slight spoilers for Being Human (US)
Summary: "They arrived in Boston late that night, after having driven all day long."
Note: Written for the "SPN Xover" challenge on spnland; prompt - 'Crossover Supernatural with any fandom.' [Crossed with Being Human (US)]
It hadn't taken them long to find a new case. Shortly after taking care of the coven of witches in Ann Arbor, the werewolf in Nashville, and the spirits in St. Louis, Sam and Dean Winchester were resting up outside of a small no-name town in Indiana when they caught wind of their next destination.
"Boston," said Sam, causing Dean to look over from the television at his brother. Sam was sitting at the desk, his laptop open and the internet up, articles open in several different tabs on his browser. But it was one in particular, however, that had caught the younger Winchester's attention and made him interrupt his brother's viewing of whatever random program it was he was watching.
"What?" asked Dean.
"Boston," said Sam, sighing.
Dean got up from the bed where he had been lounging and headed over to the desk. He stood behind Sam and looked over his brother's shoulder, attempting to read the articles on the computer.
"What's in Boston?" he asked, apparently having giving up on finding out the answer for himself as he sat down in one of the chairs instead.
Sam shrugged and turned back to the computer. "Signs of a vampire attack," he said. He scanned over the article. "Uh, let's see ... massive blood loss ... ripped throats ... teeth marks ... yep, it's all here."
Dean nodded and got up, heading back to his bed. "Okay then," he said as he picked the remote back up. "Sounds good to me." He turned the volume back up. "We'll head on out to Boston in the morning."
*
They arrived in Boston late that night, having driven solidly all day long. It had been a long trip, and Dean was tired. The nearly full moon gave them enough light to see by as they grabbed their bags out of the Impala and entered yet another new motel room in yet another new city.
Dean collapsed on the bed the moment he came in the room as Sam put his stuff down on the desk.
"I'm gonna head out for a bit," he said, grinning as Dean just grunted against the pillow, apparently already halfway to the realm of blissful unconsciousness. "You want me to get you anything? For later?" Another wordless mumble was all Sam got as an answer, and he chose to interpret it as a 'Yes, Sam, pick me up anything you wish. You're an awesome brother for being so considerate.'
Sam headed to the nearest food establishment he could find, a small little diner just a few blocks from the motel. A few cars were scattered throughout the parking lot, even though the time was nearing midnight. He opened the door to enter - and right into a young woman, instinctively reaching out to catch her.
Apologies spilled simultaneously from both of them.
"Sorry-"
"Sorry-"
"Um, yeah, sorry about that," said Sam, chuckling nervously.
"Not a problem," said the woman, and Sam looked at her closer. She had dark red hair, her skin light, and he kind of liked the way she smiled -- He shook his head, trying to clear those thoughts from his mind. Now's definitely not the time, he thought.
"I'm Sam," he said instead, watching her.
"Rebecca." She smiled. "So, Sam ... what are you doing tonight?"
*
Dean woke up several hours later, groggily turning over to look at the glowing motel clock on the bedside table.
2:17 A.M.
His stomach growled, and he glanced over at the other bed, ready to tear Sam a new one over forgetting the food or not waking him up or whatever it was Sam had done this time --
Except the bed was empty.
And there was no sign that Sam had ever returned.
"Damn it," muttered Dean as he got up and, trying to ignore the growing worry that was beginning to gnaw at him, grabbed his jacket and gun and headed out to the Impala.
*
"--find him?"
"The diner down on Route 9."
Voices slowly started to intrude on Sam's blissful unconsciousness, and he was rather annoyed with that little fact. He wanted to tell them to shut up, to leave him alone, to let him go right back to sleep ...
Except, somehow, he knew that sleeping was probably a bad idea.
He felt a warm hand caress his cheek, brushing back a strand of his hair.
"Wake up, Sam," one of the voices whispered. It wasn't the female - the one he recognized from before - what was her name? Robin? Rachel? Rebecca?
This was someone else.
Someone he thought he should maybe be afraid of -- should maybe have reason to hate, even -- but he couldn't.
The gentle touches continued, and Sam subconsciously leaned into them, seeking them out. He could feel the strength, the power, in this individual, and he yearned for it ...
And they were just so comforting ...
When he finally opened his eyes, he was met with a strong blue gaze looking back at him and a head of short, bright, yellow hair. The elder man was smiling gently down at him.
"Well, good morning," he said, smirking slightly. He continued to caress Sam's face, and even though he was awake, Sam still didn't seem to mind. "How are you feeling?"
Sam looked around. He was lying on a simple little bed, in a simple little room, and it was just the three of them - him, the man, and the woman he'd met at the diner - in there. There was nothing to tell him anything about what had happened to him ever since he'd introduced himself to ... Rebecca! That's it!
Rebecca was standing near the back, and if Sam didn't know any better, he'd say she looked a bit nervous. Or anxious.
He turned to the man who was still barely a few feet from him. Somehow, he got the feeling that this person wouldn't lie to him, would tell him the truth if he asked. So he gave it a shot.
"Fine, I guess, but um ... what happened?"
The man looked at him, but spoke over his shoulder. "Rebecca, why don't you leave us for a moment," he said, his tone making it clear he expected no argument.
"But Bishop --"
"I said, leave."
Rebecca didn't stay to argue. Barely a second passed before it was just Sam and the man. No, 'Bishop.' That's what Rebecca had called him.
"So, uh, Bishop?" Sam asked, and the man nodded. "Are you going to tell me what happened now, or ..."
Bishop nodded again and smiled. "It's rather simple," he said. He sat down next to Sam and, taking the young Winchester's face gently in his hands, looked him in the eyes.
"You came home."
And Sam didn't really care about anything else when, after Bishop laid a small kiss on his forehead, he bit into Sam's neck. Sam could feel the blood flowing from where the vampire's fangs had penetrated, but it didn't matter.
Not when Bishop continued to whisper so gently to him, to promise him that he was home, that he would belong again.
That Sam was finally with his true family.
~*~
Finite!
~Megan