Ficlets

[lavendergaia]

So, since I was whining earlier, I got a couple of prompts to make sure that I wrote and finished something. They're all kind of small, so I'm just grouping them together here. They're all comment/IM fics and not betaed, so please excuse any mistakes.



By the time Sam looks over at him from the passenger seat, Dean knows it's bad. "Hiccups, Dean?"

Dean ignores him and turns up the radio, trying not to bounce in his seat as the next one hits. It's not the cute little hiccups that Sam used to get when he was four that would go away when Dean rubbed his back. These are hard and heavy and they hurt, dammit.

Cursing under his breath, Dean pulls into the nearest gas station. He grumbles something to Sam about filling up the tank while he gets something to drink, trying not to punch his brother in his face for that incessant smirk. Dean picks up a few bags of chips and some peanut M&Ms before grabbing some water out of the fridge. After a moment's consideration, he grabs a Coke too, hoping maybe the carbonation will help.

The clerk is small and blonde and exactly his type, but he's clearly not going to get anything if he's jumping up and down with hiccups because he can't control his damn diaphragm or whatever. He forces a smile at her anyway while she rings him up and sticks a dollar in her tip jar with a wink to preserve at least some of his dignity.

"Hey," she calls after him as he takes his bag and walks away. Dean turns toward her, expecting her number. Instead, she's holding a straw out to him, the kind for slushies. "I hear drinking through a straw helps with hiccups."

"Yeah," he says under his breath, taking it with a forced smile. "Thanks."

Sam's waiting in the car when he gets back and he shoves the bag of food at him without any ceremony. Once they get back on the road, he puts his Coke and straw in the cup holder, glaring at Sam even while holding his breath. Not. A. Word.

After another hour, they reach Richmond and Dean settles down at the first motel he can find, wondering if there's anything that can curse you with hiccups and if he should call Bobby. Dean's just finished laying down the line of salt when Sam elbows him lightly, "Hey, Dean?"

Before Dean can ask him to google hiccups and witches, Sam cups his face in his hands, leans forward and kisses him. Dean freezes there in the middle of their hotel room as his little brother kisses him on the mouth. And holy crap there's tongue and this feels way better than it's supposed to. He grabs one of Sam's arms, just holding and wondering when he started kissing back because that should never be the plan.

Sam pulls away gently, smiling, then goes to the bathroom to soak the blood out of last night's hunt out of his shirts before they take them to the laundromat. It takes Dean a while to catch his breath and he's still standing there when Sam comes back in to get Dean's clothes too. "How are the hiccups?"

Dean blinks. "What?"

"Your hiccups," Sam says slowly. "Are they gone?"

He nods, swallowing hard. "Yeah. All gone."



Sam's always wanted a pet. All the normal kids had pets, usually a dog or a cat or sometimes cool like a snake. Dad said they weren't allowed pets and even though he promised it had nothing to do with Dean being scared of snakes (which Dean would never admit, but he saw the way that Dean stood behind him whenever he went to Larry Brewer's house), it was always just Sam, Dean, and Dad.

When Sam got old enough to argue rather than just pout, he used to do research on how animals were better than humans at noticing supernatural creatures and how the ancient Egyptians thought cats were next to Gods and had a special connection to the afterlife. Dad mostly just told him to stop fooling around and do his chores.

Sam loved Jess, but of course she was allergic to everything because the world hated Sam. They couldn't even walk into a pet store without her sneezing and while she promised that she would talk to her doctor about shots for her allergies so maybe they could get a rabbit, it never came to fruition. Nothing in Sam's life ever did.

There's a pet store across the street from the library. Sam knows he needs to get back and meet Dean at the diner so they can exchange information about the case, but he finished early and he can't help but check it out.

The bell rings as he enters and as he's immediately attracted to the cages on the far side. There are small kittens--he would guess barely the age where they can be sold--jumping on each other and running around, just enjoying their lives. He smiles at them, wiggling a finger through the bars until an orange one comes and rubs against him.

"Can I help you with anyone?"

He turns to see the clerk standing behind him and Sam just shakes his head. "Oh, no, I was just... I'm good, thanks."

"Let me know if you need any help."

Sam nods. "Thanks." For a few minutes, he watches them run around until his phone rings in his pocket. He knows it's Dean wondering where he is and he sighs to himself and heads to the door, leaving them behind.

That night, he runs his hand through Dean's hair and kisses his collarbone as Dean curls closer to him, sleepy and supple in his arms. "Hey, I was thinking."

"Not again, Sam, I'm tired."

He rolls his eyes and nips at Dean's neck. "Not that, idiot. I mean...you know... We should kind of...expand our family a bit."

Dean opens an eye to look at him, frowning. "Are you pregnant?"

"Yes, Dean. But you're not the father." Dean elbows him in the stomach and Sam laughs. "I was actually...Dean, I mean..."

"Just spit it out, Sam."

"Can we get a pet?"

Groaning uncomfortably, Dean sits up and looks down at Sam. "Where's this coming from? Feeling maternal?"

Sighing, Sam runs a hand over his head. "No, it's just. I've always wanted one. And it doesn't even have to be big, like a dog. It could be like a cat."

"Sam, we travel so much, that's not fair to a pet."

"You sound like Dad."

"Well, Dad was right. This life isn't much set to people, let alone animals. Especially animals that need litter boxes."

Sam just nods, then rolls to his side, reaching for the light. "Okay, Dean. Night."

Grabbing his arm, Dean says, "Don't do that. Come on, Sam." He leans down and kisses him, long enough for Sam to get comfortable on his back again. "I'll think about it, okay?"

Sam kisses him again, softly. "Okay."

Laying back down again, Dean pillows his head on Sam's chest. "Just go to sleep."

"Yeah, Dean. Night."

It's a few days later when they finally finished the hunt, and Sam searches the paper over breakfast to look for something new.

Across the table, Dean taps his fork against the table impatiently. "You almost done eating?"

Sam raises an eyebrow at him over the top of the paper. "Yeah, just about. Why, you got somewhere to be?"

"We have something to do, actually."

Sam frowns. "What? You found another case?"

"Just finish up, okay?" Dean stands up and tosses a few bills on the table. "I'm gonna go fill up the car. Meet you across the street."

Sam hurries, not wanting Dean any more annoyed then he usually is, then packs up the paper and meets him in the car. Dean doesn't say a word to him as he starts the car and heads towards the city limits. He expects them to pull on the highway, not into a parking lot of a large building. Sam stares quizzically at it until he spots a sign: Taylor County Humane Society.

"...Dean, what are we doing here?"

"What do you think we're doing here, Sam?"

He stares at his brother in shock. "Are...are we...?"

Dean turns off the engine, then catches Sam's eye. "I'm not Dad. And I guess you're mature enough now. But if this thing pisses in my car, I will kill you both."

The grin that erupts on Sam's face is uncontrollable. "Dean..." He kisses his brother soundly, holding his face in his hands. "Why the Humane Society?"

Dean's smiling too when he pulls away. "Dude, I watch Animal Planet. We're adopting. Now c'mon, Sam. Let's get you a cat."



Sophia checks the clock for the fifth time, wondering what could be keeping Jared. It's not like he's not used to running Patch and Harley at the same time. Even Sadie keeps looking at the door, as if wondering where they hell they are. Sophia sits down on the couch, calling for her. "I'm getting worried too, Sadie girl," she says, rubbing her behind her ears. "Wanna go look for them?"

Jared always said he had the smartest dogs and clearly he's right when Sadie looks at her excitedly, then runs to get her leash. "Well, that's an answer." She slips on a pair of flip flops and clips the leash on Sadie before heading to the street.

It's not unusual to see paps in the area, even though she's glad that they're not usually following her, but the sidewalks seem oddly deserted for a Saturday morning. Panic rises up in her and she wonders if there's something horrible going on that has everyone's attention; if something horrible has happened to Jared.

She's a few blocks from home when she finally gets her answer. Sadie runs over to where Patch and Harley are laying at Jared's feet as he sits behind a few pieces of what looks like heavy cardboard that's been ducktaped to hell and back. "What are you doing?"

"Oh, hey!" He grins at her excitedly, petting Sadie's head. "What are you doing here?"

"We came looking for you, you've been gone for almost an hour."

"Has it been that long?" He looks at his watch in surprise. "Oh, man, I'm sorry. See, Stacey's selling lemonade today and cookies and someone got a little excited," he said, nodding to Harley. "So we kind of...destroyed her lemonade stand. I told her I would fix it while she went inside to make more."

Sophia felt her heart grow three sizes. "Oh, sweetie. Is...is this what you call fixing it?"

"What? It stands up now, at least!" He sets the stand upright and it only bends a little bit on one side. "Good as new."

A little girl runs out of the house and Sophia assumes that this is the infamous Stacey. "I got more lemonade."

"And I fixed your stand. You are good to go." Jared high fives her, then helps her set everything up and get situated. "Good luck, I hope you make lots of money."

"Do you want lemonade?" She offers, holding up a cup that's close to overflowing.

He grins. "Sure, that'd be great."

"It's 75 cents."

Sophia tries to hide her laugh as Jared searches through his pants for some spare change. "It, uh, looks like I'm gonna have to pass then."

Shrugging, Stacey hands him the cup. "It's okay, you can get me later."

"I will do that," he says, ruffling her hair. "See ya, Stace."

Sophia waves to her as they walk away, then takes Jared's hand and leans against him. "I love you."

He kisses the top of her head affectionately. "I love you."

They're almost home when she speaks again. "I want kids."

He looks down and their eyes lock. He smiles widely. "Yeah. Me too."



Dean sits in the bar not even really drinking, even though he has several empty shot glasses around him. That's not even what he's here for. He just needs something loud and sports are on and he couldn't care less except there's cheering and cursing and yelling and it's almost enough that he can't feel himself think anymore.

Sam's probably back at the motel either sleeping or wondering where Dean is and getting worried and he stamps down his innate brotherly sense to at least call Sam and tell him that he's okay because in three weeks Dean isn't going to be here anymore and maybe it's time Sam got used to it. He downs another shot and hears his blood pounding in his ears and he almost wishes he liked sports so he could get into a fight with someone and punch their lights out because at this point it's either hit something or cry.

"Hey, Dean."

He glances to his left and the first thing he sees is blonde hair, the first thing he's seen in his entire life is blonde hair and he wonders if that's going to be the last thing he sees when he dies. Swallowing down the lump in his throat, he says, "What are you doing here?"

"Maybe I wanted a drink," Ruby says, sitting at the bar next to him.

"Can't you leave a dying man in peace?" He holds his beer bottle tightly, wondering how hard he'd have to squeeze to make it explode in his hand. How hard he'd have to squeeze her throat to get her to fucking shut up. "I've got three weeks and then you can celebrate all you want."

"Three weeks, two days, and about fifteen minutes, but who's counting?" Turning on her stool, she crosses her legs, the deep red of her shirt casting a glow over both of them in the dim light. "Maybe I came to see if there was anything I can do for you."

"Yeah, and maybe hell just froze over. Move on."

Ruby reaches out for his shoulder and he jerks away, glaring at her. She sighs with exasperation. "I'm just trying to help."

"Trying to help yourself, bitch."

"You don't know anything, Dean."

Something in her tone strikes Dean within him, the way she says his name almost familiar, echoing inside what's left of his heart. "So what, I get three wishes or something?"

"Do I look like a genie?" She raises an eyebrow, then takes his beer and chugs down the last of it. "I was just wondering if there was anything I could do to make your last few weeks easier."

"Well, first I want another beer." When she rolls his eyes, he stops, thinking. "Can you get the Colt?"

She shakes her head slowly. "No. That's out of my hands."

Dean sighs and rubs his eyes. He's very tired, as if he's lived his whole thirty years without sleep. "Look, I just. I just want it to be done."

"Thought you Winchesters were all about fighting. But you and your dad, both limping out." Dean's jaw hardens but he doesn't answer her. "Maybe Sam really is the only fighter. Maybe he gets it from his mom."

Just the word, the three letters makes him snap and he grabs her arm tightly. "Look--"

"There a problem here?" the bartender asks, looking at them closely.

Ruby smiles, running her hand through Dean's hair. "It's okay, my boyfriend just knows I like it rough. We'll take it out of your way. C'mon, honey."

He doesn't resist as she leads him off the chairs, towards the bathrooms in the back of the bar.

She pushes him into the ladies' room, locking the door behind her. "Did I hit a nerve?"

"Oh, I'm gonna hit something."

Stretching her arms over her head, she laughs at him. "Relax. I thought you didn't wanna rough house with me anymore. C'mon, Dean, make up your mind. Are you a lover or a fighter?"

He leans against the dirty tiled wall, closing his eyes and sighing. "What do you care?"

When he opens them, she's in front of him, body pressing closer to his as her hand rests on his chest. "You could be both."

Without thinking, he leans down and kisses her. Ruby wraps her arms around his neck, pulling herself up to kiss him better, more solidly. Growling, he turns around, pressing her hard against the wall, leveraging her up so she can wrap her arms around his waist. She cries out softly when he bites into her neck, nails trailing new lines down the back of his leather jacket.

Her blonde hair falls in his face as she kisses him again, one arm around his neck and the other working on the belt of his jeans. Dean expects her to smell of sulfur, of brimstone, anything but the sweet jasmine of his childhood and it makes his heart tear a little more in his chest.

This kiss deepens and he bites at her bottom lip until he draws blood. Ruby hisses lightly, but doesn't stop kissing him until his pants are pushed down around his ankles. She leaves a kiss at the base of his throat and pulls away without words. Staring down at her as she gets on his knees in front of him, Dean thinks that he should be thinking of something, anything, but his mind is almost peacefully blank, a slight fuzz of static overwhelming everything that was once there.

He doesn't remember when he got hard, but he leans his head back and groans when Ruby runs her hands over his dick. She doesn't wait long before licking a long stripe up the bottom, then sucking the head into her mouth. Panting, Dean grabs against the bathroom sink to hold himself up, not sure the wall is good enough, not sure the world is good enough anymore because this was not supposed to be his night, not supposed to be his life.

His free hand finds it's way into her hair, stroking the silken locks and shadowing her face until he can maybe pretend that this isn't her, that this isn't happening even as he arches up into her mouth. Ruby continues to suck him down, swallowing in the back of her throat and Dean hates himself for wondering if it's all demons who don't have a gag reflex or just her.

His hand entangles itself in her hair, holding and pulling as he nears completion. She doesn't say anything, doesn't move, just continues to suck and lick at his dick as if she isn't a demon and he isn't going to hell and if he wasn't before, he sure would be now. This could be any girl in any bar with blonde hair and killer lips but he can't even fool himself anymore because it isn't and it never will be again and he could go out for the rest of his 23 days and it will never be like this again.

Then she looks up and he sees her blonde hair with his hand holding on and her blue eyes looking so deep that she could see everything he was thinking if he could think anything at all and he loses it, grabbing tightly to her scalp and shooting down her throat and screaming out his orgasm as if there was anyone there to listen.

Gasping for breath, he leans back, trying to get ahold of how his body is shaking. This time, when Ruby kisses him, it's softer, more gentle as if she didn't just blow him in the bar bathroom. As if there's something more than two people who can't stand each other.

There's blood on his lips from where he split hers and he wonders if that's going to be his final lasting mark on the world.

He closes his eyes and pants hard as she kisses his cheek. Dean can hardly hear her over the beating of his heart when she whispers in his ear, "It's okay, Dean. I'll take care of Sam when you're gone."

When he opens his eyes, she's gone too, leaving behind only the red blood lingering on his lips.