"Grave Situation" (Series, Chapter One), Dean/Sam
Title: Chapter 1: "Reviewing the Evidence"
Series: Grave Situation
Author: tallisen (posted under lil_wincest)
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Dean/Sam, but so far it's rather Gen
Summary: Dean and Sam investigate grave robberies in a small town in Nevada, and Sam begins to discover something he doesn't want to know about himself.
A/N: The plotbunnies finally started cooperating with me, and therefore, I've got something to share! Reviews and comments are greatly appreciated! :)
The rule about not disturbing the dead never changed. It existed for good reasons; ghosts tended to get angry and vengeful when they found themselves displaced. It was also a pain in the ass to replace them. However, there were always instances where people… stupid people, dug them up. For whatever impractical reason they could have, they were just asking for trouble.
Dean stood at the foot of an uncovered grave, examining the lack of bones at the bottom of it, with a scowl on his face. “There’s nothing in this one either.” He turned at the sound of Sam approaching. “That makes, what, seven graves?”
His brother had his jacket zipped up tight, and arms wrapped around his chest to keep out the biting cold of early morning. “I found two more on the outskirts that seem a little older.”
“So nine.” Dean threw back his head and groaned. “Why are people so stupid?”
“I don’t know if it’s people who did this…There were scratches in the dirt of one of the graves, they looked like claw marks.”
“Claw marks?” Dean stared at Sam like he had grown an extra head. “So what, you’re saying we’re dealing with vampires here?”
Sam shrugged tightly, “Or it could be zombies.”
“So,” Dean brushed past his brother, “We either have to find and stake a bunch of vampires or torch ourselves a group of zombies. Sounds like fun.”
Sam followed close behind him, “We should look up the cause of death for these people, and see if they were bit by anything.”
“Peachy.” The graveyard was a small and very old one. It was miles outside of town, so that meant no surveillance. It explained why the missing bodies had gone unnoticed for days before someone reported them. There weren’t any reports of walking dead in the town of Nubath, but it didn’t mean it wasn’t going to happen. Dean wasn’t sure which he was hoping for, to be truthful. Vampires and zombies sounded like pains in the ass to deal with, but zombies meant there was someone behind it all, and that was going to be a lot of extra work.
They reached their car and Dean turned to his brother who was rubbing his hands together for warmth. “I’m starved, let’s get some food first.” Sam looked like he could use a good cup of coffee, too. Dean knew his brother got chilled easier than him, but the weather was no where near that bad here in southern Nevada. The truth was that ever since they returned home in Kansas, Dean couldn’t help but feel paranoid around him. What was his brother hiding? How much did he actually see of the spiritual world? Was he getting messages from Elvis right now?
Sam didn’t say anything, but shrugged and climbed into the passenger seat. Annoyed, Dean did the same. Two could play the silent game.
Sam leaned back in the booth with his coffee mug in his hands. He couldn’t really describe why he was so cold. It was disconcerting actually, to feel an ache that reached his very bones, but to be unable to make it go away. Right now it was duller, but still there, making it difficult for him to concentrate. It had been that way ever since they reached the town limits. He shook his head to clear his mind, and immediately felt the watchful eyes of his brother’s on him. He took a swig of the strong brew and reluctantly set the mug on the table. “What?”
Dean shook his head, pretending not to be concerned. He was doing a horrible job at it. Still, if Dean didn’t want to talk about it, Sam wasn’t going to push anything, because there wasn’t anything he could say. Instead he dug his laptop out of his bag and sat it on the table. “I’ll look up any recent deaths in town.”
“Geek.” Dean muttered under his breath. He wasn’t watching Sam any more; his attention had moved to a young female waitress serving someone down the aisle. “How long do you think this job’s going to take?”
“Well, if it’s vampires, maybe a week to find and stake them, and if they’re zombies it could be another seven days to find whoever raised them…” Sam lifted his eyes from the screen to glare at his brother’s lack of attention. “It could be anywhere between one and two weeks.”
“Dude, that sucks.”
Sam tapped his keyboard in frustration. “What would you do with an army of zombies?”
“Film the next Evil Dead movie.” Dean was practically drooling over the short skirt and long legged woman who was making her way toward them. “Dude, girls that hot should be illegal.”
“It’s nice to see your mind is on the task at hand.” Sam murmured. He clicked a link and pretended to read it. Dean could be so shallow sometimes. It was more frustrating when he was ignoring Sam. It was like Dean was intentionally stomping on his heart every time, just to get a rise out of him. The feeling was almost as uncomfortable and confusing as the persistent cold that was plaguing him.
“What can I get for you boys?”
Sam glanced up at the young twenty-something blonde beside their table and frowned at her incredible good looks. Was it a prerequisite for all waitresses at roadside diners to be models? “A burger and a refill on my coffee, please.”
She scribbled something down on a small pad then leaned closer to Dean, all but sticking her breasts in his face. “And you sir?”
“I’ll have a burger with fries and a coke.” He was practically salivating over her.
“Okay,” she tucked the order in her apron and fluttered her eyelashes. “I’ll have that order up as soon as possible.”
“No rush.” He said with a wink and watched her small tight ass she hurried away.
Sam stared at his brother until his attention returned to him, and then kicked his leg under the table.
“Ow! Why’d you do that?” Dean hissed, nursing his shin.
“Can’t we eat at one restaurant where you don’t drool over our server?”
“That depends on if we ever find one that doesn’t have fine pieces of ass like that.” He says, jabbing his thumb in the direction their waitress had left. “Can’t you ever loosen up and have some fun?”
Sam ignored the question and turned his attention back to his laptop. “None of the obituaries mention cause of death…”
“Well, I guess that means we get to do some digging at the morgue.”
Sam settled back in his seat and met his brother’s concerned gaze. It was unsettling how quickly Dean could fall back on his job of big brother. He wondered if he was supposed to say something first, but Dean beat him to the punch.
“You’d tell me if you were getting…vibes or something, right?”
Sam shook his head slowly, not sure he understood. “What?”
“You know,” Dean gestured at his head. “Phone calls from beyond the grave.”
“I’m not a psychic.” He flinched at how loud it came out, and noticed several heads turn towards their booth. Sam sank further in his seat and bit his lip. He was tired of Dean insinuating that he was communicating with the undead like it was a past time - or whatever it was that psychics did. If Sam couldn’t understand the dreams he had, how could Dean? Dreams didn’t mean anything. As far as Sam was concerned, he was as normal as normal could be in their line of work.
There was a long pause, one that made him feel even more uncomfortable, and then his brother’s quiet but firm voice broke it. “I didn’t say you were. I’m just asking that if something happens, you’d tell me, right?”
Sam shrugged, “Of course.”
“Good.” Dean seemed satisfied with the answer and returned his attention to the waitress, allowing Sam once more to worry in peaceful silence about why he felt so odd. He wasn’t going to trouble his brother with it. Not until he understood what had him so wound up. Worst case scenario, he was channelling something after all and Dean would say ‘I told you so’, but then they’d deal with it the Winchester way and that would be that.
Series: Grave Situation
Author: tallisen (posted under lil_wincest)
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Dean/Sam, but so far it's rather Gen
Summary: Dean and Sam investigate grave robberies in a small town in Nevada, and Sam begins to discover something he doesn't want to know about himself.
A/N: The plotbunnies finally started cooperating with me, and therefore, I've got something to share! Reviews and comments are greatly appreciated! :)
The rule about not disturbing the dead never changed. It existed for good reasons; ghosts tended to get angry and vengeful when they found themselves displaced. It was also a pain in the ass to replace them. However, there were always instances where people… stupid people, dug them up. For whatever impractical reason they could have, they were just asking for trouble.
Dean stood at the foot of an uncovered grave, examining the lack of bones at the bottom of it, with a scowl on his face. “There’s nothing in this one either.” He turned at the sound of Sam approaching. “That makes, what, seven graves?”
His brother had his jacket zipped up tight, and arms wrapped around his chest to keep out the biting cold of early morning. “I found two more on the outskirts that seem a little older.”
“So nine.” Dean threw back his head and groaned. “Why are people so stupid?”
“I don’t know if it’s people who did this…There were scratches in the dirt of one of the graves, they looked like claw marks.”
“Claw marks?” Dean stared at Sam like he had grown an extra head. “So what, you’re saying we’re dealing with vampires here?”
Sam shrugged tightly, “Or it could be zombies.”
“So,” Dean brushed past his brother, “We either have to find and stake a bunch of vampires or torch ourselves a group of zombies. Sounds like fun.”
Sam followed close behind him, “We should look up the cause of death for these people, and see if they were bit by anything.”
“Peachy.” The graveyard was a small and very old one. It was miles outside of town, so that meant no surveillance. It explained why the missing bodies had gone unnoticed for days before someone reported them. There weren’t any reports of walking dead in the town of Nubath, but it didn’t mean it wasn’t going to happen. Dean wasn’t sure which he was hoping for, to be truthful. Vampires and zombies sounded like pains in the ass to deal with, but zombies meant there was someone behind it all, and that was going to be a lot of extra work.
They reached their car and Dean turned to his brother who was rubbing his hands together for warmth. “I’m starved, let’s get some food first.” Sam looked like he could use a good cup of coffee, too. Dean knew his brother got chilled easier than him, but the weather was no where near that bad here in southern Nevada. The truth was that ever since they returned home in Kansas, Dean couldn’t help but feel paranoid around him. What was his brother hiding? How much did he actually see of the spiritual world? Was he getting messages from Elvis right now?
Sam didn’t say anything, but shrugged and climbed into the passenger seat. Annoyed, Dean did the same. Two could play the silent game.
Sam leaned back in the booth with his coffee mug in his hands. He couldn’t really describe why he was so cold. It was disconcerting actually, to feel an ache that reached his very bones, but to be unable to make it go away. Right now it was duller, but still there, making it difficult for him to concentrate. It had been that way ever since they reached the town limits. He shook his head to clear his mind, and immediately felt the watchful eyes of his brother’s on him. He took a swig of the strong brew and reluctantly set the mug on the table. “What?”
Dean shook his head, pretending not to be concerned. He was doing a horrible job at it. Still, if Dean didn’t want to talk about it, Sam wasn’t going to push anything, because there wasn’t anything he could say. Instead he dug his laptop out of his bag and sat it on the table. “I’ll look up any recent deaths in town.”
“Geek.” Dean muttered under his breath. He wasn’t watching Sam any more; his attention had moved to a young female waitress serving someone down the aisle. “How long do you think this job’s going to take?”
“Well, if it’s vampires, maybe a week to find and stake them, and if they’re zombies it could be another seven days to find whoever raised them…” Sam lifted his eyes from the screen to glare at his brother’s lack of attention. “It could be anywhere between one and two weeks.”
“Dude, that sucks.”
Sam tapped his keyboard in frustration. “What would you do with an army of zombies?”
“Film the next Evil Dead movie.” Dean was practically drooling over the short skirt and long legged woman who was making her way toward them. “Dude, girls that hot should be illegal.”
“It’s nice to see your mind is on the task at hand.” Sam murmured. He clicked a link and pretended to read it. Dean could be so shallow sometimes. It was more frustrating when he was ignoring Sam. It was like Dean was intentionally stomping on his heart every time, just to get a rise out of him. The feeling was almost as uncomfortable and confusing as the persistent cold that was plaguing him.
“What can I get for you boys?”
Sam glanced up at the young twenty-something blonde beside their table and frowned at her incredible good looks. Was it a prerequisite for all waitresses at roadside diners to be models? “A burger and a refill on my coffee, please.”
She scribbled something down on a small pad then leaned closer to Dean, all but sticking her breasts in his face. “And you sir?”
“I’ll have a burger with fries and a coke.” He was practically salivating over her.
“Okay,” she tucked the order in her apron and fluttered her eyelashes. “I’ll have that order up as soon as possible.”
“No rush.” He said with a wink and watched her small tight ass she hurried away.
Sam stared at his brother until his attention returned to him, and then kicked his leg under the table.
“Ow! Why’d you do that?” Dean hissed, nursing his shin.
“Can’t we eat at one restaurant where you don’t drool over our server?”
“That depends on if we ever find one that doesn’t have fine pieces of ass like that.” He says, jabbing his thumb in the direction their waitress had left. “Can’t you ever loosen up and have some fun?”
Sam ignored the question and turned his attention back to his laptop. “None of the obituaries mention cause of death…”
“Well, I guess that means we get to do some digging at the morgue.”
Sam settled back in his seat and met his brother’s concerned gaze. It was unsettling how quickly Dean could fall back on his job of big brother. He wondered if he was supposed to say something first, but Dean beat him to the punch.
“You’d tell me if you were getting…vibes or something, right?”
Sam shook his head slowly, not sure he understood. “What?”
“You know,” Dean gestured at his head. “Phone calls from beyond the grave.”
“I’m not a psychic.” He flinched at how loud it came out, and noticed several heads turn towards their booth. Sam sank further in his seat and bit his lip. He was tired of Dean insinuating that he was communicating with the undead like it was a past time - or whatever it was that psychics did. If Sam couldn’t understand the dreams he had, how could Dean? Dreams didn’t mean anything. As far as Sam was concerned, he was as normal as normal could be in their line of work.
There was a long pause, one that made him feel even more uncomfortable, and then his brother’s quiet but firm voice broke it. “I didn’t say you were. I’m just asking that if something happens, you’d tell me, right?”
Sam shrugged, “Of course.”
“Good.” Dean seemed satisfied with the answer and returned his attention to the waitress, allowing Sam once more to worry in peaceful silence about why he felt so odd. He wasn’t going to trouble his brother with it. Not until he understood what had him so wound up. Worst case scenario, he was channelling something after all and Dean would say ‘I told you so’, but then they’d deal with it the Winchester way and that would be that.