No Power in the 'Verse
Title: No Power in the ‘Verse
Rating: PG13
Timeline: Anywhere in Supernatural, Post-Serenity
Crossover: Supernatural, Firefly/Serenity
Summary: It takes over five hundred years to for them to be born on opposite sides of the ‘verse and only twenty to make their way back to each other.
Disclaimer: Neither Supernatural or Firefly belongs to me.
Crossover100 - Years
They pop up on opposite sides of the ‘verse when they’re finally reborn.
Over five hundred years of demons and angels bickering and bargaining with Destiny to keep them gone just a little while longer and then, when they discover it’s inevitable, to keep them separated. Destiny doesn’t much like that idea but she’s overruled.
It’s funny how they all seemed to forget that Destiny could be as petty as any human when her plans are meddled with. They remember real quick when a little boy is born on an outer rim planet with the name of Dean Chester and another is born on a core planet four years later with the name of Sam Windsor.
They’re the spitting image of two little boys born over five hundred years before and Destiny ignores all the complaints, sits back, and watches.
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Sam’s a difficult boy, hard and angry one second and sweet as a sugar planet the next. He wants to fight the power. He wants to help people. He wants to see the ‘verse.
…Born too late for the war but just in time for a revolution.
Dean’s just as difficult, all hard edges and cold eyes with a mushy center. He wants to fight for the sake of fighting. He wants to keep what’s his. He wants to get off his shitdump of a planet and out into the ‘verse.
…Born too late for the war but there’s always a battle to be fought where he comes from.
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Destiny just laughs as demons and angels go out of their way to run interference, from crashing ships and redirecting to trying to kill the both of them.
Nothing stops them.
Dean’s got his taste for danger. Sam’s got his hard head set and ready to charge. All their life, they’ve been heading for a middle ground, never quite sure what they’re looking for but damn sure they don’t have it yet.
Sam doesn’t answer the waves from his father telling him to get home right now.
Dean just smirks as his mother shouts that God don’t take kind to his criminal ways.
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Neither remembers - not really.
Pieces of memories slip into dreams that don’t keep when they wake up.
If anyone notices that two of Sam’s toy soldiers, three of his pets, and the main character in his short science fiction story were all named ‘Dean’, nobody mentions it.
People did think it was odd, though, when Dean wouldn’t talk for almost two months after his mother miscarried his little brother (nobody could ever convince him it wasn’t a boy). She still tells the townsfolk he never forgave her for that. Even he finds it strange that, truthfully, he never did.
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Sam boards Serenity a little over a year after he left home. He gets onboard as a passenger and, when his stop comes, doesn’t leave. He doesn’t know if they’re keeping him around because he’s good in a fight (nothing special but a scrapper with a sharp mind) or because River’s taken a liking to him and she’s not getting into trouble if she’s following him around.
“Almost there,” she tells him every day.
He doesn’t know where she thinks he’s heading but he’s getting an odd feeling. So, he nods. “You tell me when we get there so I don’t miss it.”
She gave him her ‘you’re a dummy’ look. “Just because you don’t see the glass doesn’t mean it’s not there.”
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When the threats started flying and guns started being pulled, Dean came up behind the closest one and put the barrel to the side of his head. “Hands off the metal Rich Boy.”
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Sam hated that name; rich boy. It always seemed to justify people wanting to control him, beat him up, or rob him. His expensive clothes got sold off or traded a long while ago. His hair hadn’t had a good cut in longer. The only difference between him and the rest of the crowd he ran in was that he placed a lot of value on hygiene.
With this in mind (and probably a lot of River’s influence) he muttered, “Stinky.”
There was a shocked silence behind him.
“…Boy - .”
Sam heard the sound of metal-meet-skull and then a thump.
He spun around.
River looked at him expectantly.
He looked at her just as expectantly.
She sighed the sigh of the extremely put-upon. “There.”
It took a second for him to get the meaning. He looked down at the man, blondish with a prickly face and his gun (the one that had just been held to Sam’s head) lying right by his hand.
River took one arm and began to drag. After a second, Sam took the other.
The Captain spotted them as they were making their way up the back with him. “Hey! Wait just a gorram minute!”
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…They’re the spitting image of two young men that lived over five hundred years before and Destiny ignores the raging, sits back, and laughs.
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