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December Drabble Days...
In an effort to keep myself writing (post Nano) I'm going to start up my December Drabble Days this year! During the month of December I will post 31 drabbles (100 words exactly, because I love a good writing challenge). So what do I need? Prompts of course ( Read more... ) -
But What We Make
Title: But What We Make
Author: hunters_retreat
Artist: surevestaFandom: Supernatural/Terminator: The Sarah Connor Chronicles ( Read more... ) -
But What We Make (Part VI)
Title: But What We Make
Author: hunters_retreat
Artist: surevestaFandom: Supernatural/Terminator: The Sarah Connor Chronicles ( Read more... ) -
But What We Make (Part V)
Title: But What We Make
Author: hunters_retreat
Artist: surevestaFandom: Supernatural/Terminator: The Sarah Connor Chronicles ( Read more... ) -
But What We Make (Part IV)
“Sam, your mother is here.”
Sam looked up at the Vice Principal as she walked in the room, followed closely by Sarah Reese. He felt tears sting his eyes and though he was sure his face didn’t show his inner turmoil, Sarah’s eyes seemed to hone in on his weakness.
“What happened?” Sarah asked, pulling the Vice Principal’s attention away from Sam, ( Read more... ) -
But What We Make (Part III)
It wasn’t unusual for John or Sarah to go missing for a few days longer than they’d planned, though Sarah was always better about calling to check in. After one missed check in, JC was on edge and Dean didn’t know what to do about it. Calling Sarah’s cell didn’t get them anywhere and his youngest brother wasn’t fooled with platitudes. In the two ( Read more... ) -
But What We Make (Part II)
JC startled awake, his phone buzzing in his pocket as he sat up straight in the front seat of the jeep. It took a second to get his bearings, but he remembered where he was quick enough. He berated himself for falling asleep as he reached for the phone.
“Hello?”
“JC, I’ve got Sam.”
“Can I talk to him?” Jesus, that was a relief. He’d been about to go ( Read more... ) -
But What We Make (Part I)
The night air was cool and sweet and finally, he thought as he stepped up to the front door of his apartment, didn’t hold the fear that had punctuated his childhood. He was too tired to be tripping over monster lore and legends. It’d been four years since he’d left home to go to Stanford and Sam Winchester was done with that life. Some nights it ( Read more... )
