Podfic and Pimpage and Memes, oh my!
Before getting to the pimptastic part of our programming, onetrickyangel podficced Celebrations and Deliver Me From Evil!. Eeeeee! Listen here! *twirls*
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Pimpage!
Sign-ups close on the 14th and there are some excellent prompts in there already. Sign up so I can write fic for you! (potentially, anyway!:)
The Dean/Castiel Secret Santa Exchange
Give the gift of love this Christmas!
EEEEEEEE! There was worry over whether this would happen this year and I'm so happy it is. Sign up so I can write fics for you!
And finally, for anyone who missed it earlier in the week:
Fill! Prompt! Love!
***
And for sitting through all that, from the AU My Fic Meme (or as I'm calling it, the "Hit Cas with sticks meme") for teamabodo, who wanted Dean's worst case scenario from You Have Twelve New Messages to be true:
This time it takes eight minutes between when the screaming stops and Dean finally stalking out of the warehouse, wiping his hands on his jeans. Sam doesn't know if things are getting better or worse. Dean gives him that look and Sam slides over, even though Dean has no business driving, not with the amount of sleep he's running on. "We're done here," Dean says as they pull back out on the highway, like they'd just run out to grab some take out.
Sam can't stop staring at the bloody streaks drying on Dean's hands, joining the blood crusted around his nails that he'd never bothered washing off after the last...Christ, Sam doesn't even know what word to use. Sessions. Dean finally catches him at it and at least has the decency to look a little embarrassed. "I don't have any wet wipes on me, okay?"
"Dean, how long is this gonna go on...."
"I told them what I'd do, Sam," he snarls, his hands tight around the steering wheel. The flash of rage disappears quickly, simmering down into the icy chill that's a thousand times worse. "I told them." Sam shuts up and stares at the empty road ahead of them, watching Dean drum his fingers against the wheel in his peripheral vision. It's almost a hour before Dean speaks again, saying, "Did you notice?" Sam looks over and sees corners of his lips curled up, a mean, rictus expression that looks nothing like a smile. "About the phone?"
Sam thinks back to finding Cas' phone next to the burned out imprint of his wings in that warehouse, trying to think of anything he might have missed. "They'd...left it there for us to find?" Sam feels nauseous every time he thinks about that, that they'd rifled through his pockets before tossing the body into the river or whatever it is they'd decided to do. The river was the best bet, it ran fast enough that it made sense they hadn't found him. Sam wishes to God they had, maybe Dean wouldn't have gone flying over the edge this way.
Dean shakes his head. "There were only three new messages. I called Cas a dozen times, easy." There's a manic look in his eyes Sam can't remember ever seeing before. "The sons of bitches let him hear the rest."
"Dean, you don't know that's what...."
"I know." Sam glances at his bloody hands and supposes that's probably true. After a few minutes of silence he catches Dean glancing over at him; once his mouth opens like he's about to say something but it's another five miles before he actually does. "Sam, back when Jess died, I...." He grimaces, shaking his head. "God, I suck at this." Sam's too surprised to say anything in return. "I must have been such a dick back then. All I could think about was finding Dad, the two of us getting back on the road hunting and all that. I didn't realize how much this...." The words trail away. "Fuck, Sam, how were you upright?"
Sam knows it's as close to an admission as he's going to get. "It's okay, man. Really."
Dean's drumming against the steering wheel again. "Did find out something I didn't know." Sam raises an eyebrow and Dean gives him that grin again, the manic look back in his eye. "I found out where angels go when they die." He steps on the gas and Sam watching the speedometer inch up past 70, 80, 90. He hands Sam a slip of paper covered in scrawled, foreign words and his own bloody fingerprints. "I need you to say those."
"Dean, what is this?"
Dean's eyes are wide, staring out into the night. "The magic words."
It takes a few seconds for Sam to wrap his mind around what Dean's saying, it's that nuts. "Wait. Wait, are we driving there?"
"You know a better way?" Dean looks at him then and Sam sees desperation deep in his brother's eyes. "Almost the last thing Cas heard was me saying we'd come get him if he needed it. That it didn't matter where he was. He died listening to me promise that, Sam."
Sam looks down at the piece of paper in his hands. Then he nods. "What the hell are we waiting for?"
***
Pimpage!
Sign-ups close on the 14th and there are some excellent prompts in there already. Sign up so I can write fic for you! (potentially, anyway!:)
The Dean/Castiel Secret Santa Exchange
Give the gift of love this Christmas!
EEEEEEEE! There was worry over whether this would happen this year and I'm so happy it is. Sign up so I can write fics for you!
And finally, for anyone who missed it earlier in the week:
Fill! Prompt! Love!
***
And for sitting through all that, from the AU My Fic Meme (or as I'm calling it, the "Hit Cas with sticks meme") for teamabodo, who wanted Dean's worst case scenario from You Have Twelve New Messages to be true:
This time it takes eight minutes between when the screaming stops and Dean finally stalking out of the warehouse, wiping his hands on his jeans. Sam doesn't know if things are getting better or worse. Dean gives him that look and Sam slides over, even though Dean has no business driving, not with the amount of sleep he's running on. "We're done here," Dean says as they pull back out on the highway, like they'd just run out to grab some take out.
Sam can't stop staring at the bloody streaks drying on Dean's hands, joining the blood crusted around his nails that he'd never bothered washing off after the last...Christ, Sam doesn't even know what word to use. Sessions. Dean finally catches him at it and at least has the decency to look a little embarrassed. "I don't have any wet wipes on me, okay?"
"Dean, how long is this gonna go on...."
"I told them what I'd do, Sam," he snarls, his hands tight around the steering wheel. The flash of rage disappears quickly, simmering down into the icy chill that's a thousand times worse. "I told them." Sam shuts up and stares at the empty road ahead of them, watching Dean drum his fingers against the wheel in his peripheral vision. It's almost a hour before Dean speaks again, saying, "Did you notice?" Sam looks over and sees corners of his lips curled up, a mean, rictus expression that looks nothing like a smile. "About the phone?"
Sam thinks back to finding Cas' phone next to the burned out imprint of his wings in that warehouse, trying to think of anything he might have missed. "They'd...left it there for us to find?" Sam feels nauseous every time he thinks about that, that they'd rifled through his pockets before tossing the body into the river or whatever it is they'd decided to do. The river was the best bet, it ran fast enough that it made sense they hadn't found him. Sam wishes to God they had, maybe Dean wouldn't have gone flying over the edge this way.
Dean shakes his head. "There were only three new messages. I called Cas a dozen times, easy." There's a manic look in his eyes Sam can't remember ever seeing before. "The sons of bitches let him hear the rest."
"Dean, you don't know that's what...."
"I know." Sam glances at his bloody hands and supposes that's probably true. After a few minutes of silence he catches Dean glancing over at him; once his mouth opens like he's about to say something but it's another five miles before he actually does. "Sam, back when Jess died, I...." He grimaces, shaking his head. "God, I suck at this." Sam's too surprised to say anything in return. "I must have been such a dick back then. All I could think about was finding Dad, the two of us getting back on the road hunting and all that. I didn't realize how much this...." The words trail away. "Fuck, Sam, how were you upright?"
Sam knows it's as close to an admission as he's going to get. "It's okay, man. Really."
Dean's drumming against the steering wheel again. "Did find out something I didn't know." Sam raises an eyebrow and Dean gives him that grin again, the manic look back in his eye. "I found out where angels go when they die." He steps on the gas and Sam watching the speedometer inch up past 70, 80, 90. He hands Sam a slip of paper covered in scrawled, foreign words and his own bloody fingerprints. "I need you to say those."
"Dean, what is this?"
Dean's eyes are wide, staring out into the night. "The magic words."
It takes a few seconds for Sam to wrap his mind around what Dean's saying, it's that nuts. "Wait. Wait, are we driving there?"
"You know a better way?" Dean looks at him then and Sam sees desperation deep in his brother's eyes. "Almost the last thing Cas heard was me saying we'd come get him if he needed it. That it didn't matter where he was. He died listening to me promise that, Sam."
Sam looks down at the piece of paper in his hands. Then he nods. "What the hell are we waiting for?"