A Legends Solace
Title: A Legends Solace
Characters/Pairings: Bobby Singer, mentions of Sam and Dean
Rating: PG
Word Count: 1,224
Disclaimer: I don't own this at all in any way. I but stand in the shadow of those who actually do create this show and bow to their true talent.
Prompt: Supernatural, Sam and Dean, they are their own urban legends from jaune_chat at comment_fic
A/N: So I did some research on this. I’ve never been to Colorado but Google is very much my friend. These are the things that are true about this tale: 1) Pike National Forest is in Colorado; 2) Route 105 does run through Monument, Colorado; 3) The police station and Rogers Inn are located near 105 and are a 10 minute drive apart; 4) Monument has a police chief not a sheriff; 5) there is a Memorial Hospital in Colorado Springs; 6) Google maps says it is approximately a 10 hour drive from Sioux Falls to Monument; 7) Grand Island, Nebraska is along the route Google Maps gave. The rest of it is completely my imagination.
Bobby first heard about it through Nate Demings. The crazy idjit was checking into what he thought was a black dog sighting at Pike National Forest in Colorado, turned out to be a werewolf instead. Near on tore his arm off before Nate got his silver dagger into its heart. Almost bled to death before he reached the ranger station too. Fool was lucky to be alive.
The docs were able to save his arm and it was looking like Nate was going to be close to 100 percent down the road but he had some recovering to do and was cooling his heels at Memorial Hospital in Colorado Springs.
When Bobby got his call, he thought Nate had been dipping a little heavy into the morphine juice. But Nate swore up and down that what he was tellin’ was the god’s honest truth. Nate’s a talker. A social guy, which surely ain’t the norm for a hunter, but that’s how the boy was wired. It would seem Nate was on talkin’ terms with just about everyone on his floor at this point, and from one of those folks Nate had heard this bizarre tale. Then he heard the same story from someone else and that led him to calling Bobby freaked all to hell.
After a bit, he finally calmed Nate down and told him to rest and he’d check into it but he was pretty darn sure that there wasn’t anything to it. There was just no friggin’ way considerin’ the folks in question weren’t dead. But Bobby had learned long ago that the impossible could definitely be possible and though he wasn’t looking forward to the 10 plus hour drive that would get him there, he figured better safe than sorry and there was no way he was lettin' anyone else handle this. This was family business. Plus there was a part for Chad Sterling’s ’57 Ford truck in Grand Island, Nebraska that would save Bobby shipping costs if he picked it up along the way.
He spent about three days checkin’ things out in Monument, Colorado. It was amazing really how an urban legend can just crop up in only a matter of years. But no matter how big Monument got, it still had that core of small town attitude at its center. Monument had rebuilt its police station practically on top of the old but they had erected a pretty impressive monument to commemorate the fallen and if you looked close you could still see the black scars from the explosion. Rogers Inn was exactly as Nate had described not more than 10 minutes away from the police station on that same stretch of highway, Route 105. So the location particulars seemed to be pretty accurate.
His next order of business was to start talkin’ to the locals. He told folks he was a professor from the University of South Dakota and was researching urban legends and how they start, which wasn't far from the truth if you squinted at it. It turned out there was no short supply of volunteers willing to tell the tale of how their sister-in-law’s uncle’s wife or best friend’s ex-girlfriend’s boyfriend had seen it. But there didn’t seem to be any eyewitnesses he could actually track down, which made Bobby think this was more fiction than fact. It was interesting though how the tale seemed to pretty much stay the same each time.
Folks told how goin’ on three years ago, the police chief and his men with the help of the FBI arrested two of the most vicious and evil men seen this side of Hell, the Winchester brothers, at Rogers Inn. It was said they would soon as shoot you as give you the time of day. But those men wouldn’t stay put, no sir and they tried to escape. It was the chief who shot them both mortal wounds. In his dying breath and seeing his baby brother lying bloody on the ground, the older brother cursed them all that night to die as if the very fires of hell had come for them. No more than a few hours later, wouldn’t you know but the station blew to kingdom come. A freak gas explosion the fire experts said but folks had to wonder what could melt concrete like that.
The tale went on to claim that now on clear nights when the moon is full and the air is so frosty and cold you can see your breath, a sleek black car appears on that stretch of Route 105 between the police station and Rogers Inn, the place where the brothers had been arrested. Anyone who’s seen it swears it appears out of nowhere, its engine growling like a hellhound and its headlights glowing red instead of yellow. Some folks say you can see two men in the car and some say you see no one at all. But seeing that car always portends that there are flames in your future, usually of the fatal kind. Supposedly, anyone who ever sees that car is destined to die a violent death by fire.
Of course, Bobby checked into these supposed fiery deaths, but there weren’t any as far as he could see or at least none connected to the ghost car. He also walked that entire stretch of road in the dead of night with an EMF detector but didn’t even get a blip, not even at the police station, which he was extremely thankful for. All-in-all, it just came down to the overactive imaginations of some townsfolk looking to find explanations for a horrible tragedy that visited their hometown. On his way home, he stopped in Colorado Springs and showed Nate the evidence he collected so the idjit could stop worrying at it and get back to focusing on gettin’ his arm back in shape.
As he made the long trek back home, he debated back and forth whether he was going to tell Dean and Sam about this. At one time, Dean would've laughed his ass off. But now, Bobby wasn't so sure. Monument was a real sore spot for both of them and to find out they had been demonized by the town would probably hurt, though neither would ever acknowledge it. No, it was probably best to keep this to himself. Chances were they would probably never hear of it.
As his thoughts wandered, he actually marveled that he hadn't heard of similar tales from other hunters. Both Winchesters were larger than life, living life on the edge of society, sacrificing and saving lives wherever they went. Sure all hunters did that, but the Winchesters seemed to take on things that left marks on places and people. They were usually pretty hard to forget. In earlier days, folks would talk about such men, spread their stories by word of mouth. Men like that became legends, larger than the sum of their parts. Guess it was the sign of the times that it didn't happen. People today were too focused on the now and the next bit of news to excite them that it was just too darn hard for legends and heroes to rise above the refuse. Otherwise, Bobby was pretty damn sure that Sam and Dean would be their own urban legends wherever they went.
Characters/Pairings: Bobby Singer, mentions of Sam and Dean
Rating: PG
Word Count: 1,224
Disclaimer: I don't own this at all in any way. I but stand in the shadow of those who actually do create this show and bow to their true talent.
Prompt: Supernatural, Sam and Dean, they are their own urban legends from jaune_chat at comment_fic
A/N: So I did some research on this. I’ve never been to Colorado but Google is very much my friend. These are the things that are true about this tale: 1) Pike National Forest is in Colorado; 2) Route 105 does run through Monument, Colorado; 3) The police station and Rogers Inn are located near 105 and are a 10 minute drive apart; 4) Monument has a police chief not a sheriff; 5) there is a Memorial Hospital in Colorado Springs; 6) Google maps says it is approximately a 10 hour drive from Sioux Falls to Monument; 7) Grand Island, Nebraska is along the route Google Maps gave. The rest of it is completely my imagination.
Bobby first heard about it through Nate Demings. The crazy idjit was checking into what he thought was a black dog sighting at Pike National Forest in Colorado, turned out to be a werewolf instead. Near on tore his arm off before Nate got his silver dagger into its heart. Almost bled to death before he reached the ranger station too. Fool was lucky to be alive.
The docs were able to save his arm and it was looking like Nate was going to be close to 100 percent down the road but he had some recovering to do and was cooling his heels at Memorial Hospital in Colorado Springs.
When Bobby got his call, he thought Nate had been dipping a little heavy into the morphine juice. But Nate swore up and down that what he was tellin’ was the god’s honest truth. Nate’s a talker. A social guy, which surely ain’t the norm for a hunter, but that’s how the boy was wired. It would seem Nate was on talkin’ terms with just about everyone on his floor at this point, and from one of those folks Nate had heard this bizarre tale. Then he heard the same story from someone else and that led him to calling Bobby freaked all to hell.
After a bit, he finally calmed Nate down and told him to rest and he’d check into it but he was pretty darn sure that there wasn’t anything to it. There was just no friggin’ way considerin’ the folks in question weren’t dead. But Bobby had learned long ago that the impossible could definitely be possible and though he wasn’t looking forward to the 10 plus hour drive that would get him there, he figured better safe than sorry and there was no way he was lettin' anyone else handle this. This was family business. Plus there was a part for Chad Sterling’s ’57 Ford truck in Grand Island, Nebraska that would save Bobby shipping costs if he picked it up along the way.
He spent about three days checkin’ things out in Monument, Colorado. It was amazing really how an urban legend can just crop up in only a matter of years. But no matter how big Monument got, it still had that core of small town attitude at its center. Monument had rebuilt its police station practically on top of the old but they had erected a pretty impressive monument to commemorate the fallen and if you looked close you could still see the black scars from the explosion. Rogers Inn was exactly as Nate had described not more than 10 minutes away from the police station on that same stretch of highway, Route 105. So the location particulars seemed to be pretty accurate.
His next order of business was to start talkin’ to the locals. He told folks he was a professor from the University of South Dakota and was researching urban legends and how they start, which wasn't far from the truth if you squinted at it. It turned out there was no short supply of volunteers willing to tell the tale of how their sister-in-law’s uncle’s wife or best friend’s ex-girlfriend’s boyfriend had seen it. But there didn’t seem to be any eyewitnesses he could actually track down, which made Bobby think this was more fiction than fact. It was interesting though how the tale seemed to pretty much stay the same each time.
Folks told how goin’ on three years ago, the police chief and his men with the help of the FBI arrested two of the most vicious and evil men seen this side of Hell, the Winchester brothers, at Rogers Inn. It was said they would soon as shoot you as give you the time of day. But those men wouldn’t stay put, no sir and they tried to escape. It was the chief who shot them both mortal wounds. In his dying breath and seeing his baby brother lying bloody on the ground, the older brother cursed them all that night to die as if the very fires of hell had come for them. No more than a few hours later, wouldn’t you know but the station blew to kingdom come. A freak gas explosion the fire experts said but folks had to wonder what could melt concrete like that.
The tale went on to claim that now on clear nights when the moon is full and the air is so frosty and cold you can see your breath, a sleek black car appears on that stretch of Route 105 between the police station and Rogers Inn, the place where the brothers had been arrested. Anyone who’s seen it swears it appears out of nowhere, its engine growling like a hellhound and its headlights glowing red instead of yellow. Some folks say you can see two men in the car and some say you see no one at all. But seeing that car always portends that there are flames in your future, usually of the fatal kind. Supposedly, anyone who ever sees that car is destined to die a violent death by fire.
Of course, Bobby checked into these supposed fiery deaths, but there weren’t any as far as he could see or at least none connected to the ghost car. He also walked that entire stretch of road in the dead of night with an EMF detector but didn’t even get a blip, not even at the police station, which he was extremely thankful for. All-in-all, it just came down to the overactive imaginations of some townsfolk looking to find explanations for a horrible tragedy that visited their hometown. On his way home, he stopped in Colorado Springs and showed Nate the evidence he collected so the idjit could stop worrying at it and get back to focusing on gettin’ his arm back in shape.
As he made the long trek back home, he debated back and forth whether he was going to tell Dean and Sam about this. At one time, Dean would've laughed his ass off. But now, Bobby wasn't so sure. Monument was a real sore spot for both of them and to find out they had been demonized by the town would probably hurt, though neither would ever acknowledge it. No, it was probably best to keep this to himself. Chances were they would probably never hear of it.
As his thoughts wandered, he actually marveled that he hadn't heard of similar tales from other hunters. Both Winchesters were larger than life, living life on the edge of society, sacrificing and saving lives wherever they went. Sure all hunters did that, but the Winchesters seemed to take on things that left marks on places and people. They were usually pretty hard to forget. In earlier days, folks would talk about such men, spread their stories by word of mouth. Men like that became legends, larger than the sum of their parts. Guess it was the sign of the times that it didn't happen. People today were too focused on the now and the next bit of news to excite them that it was just too darn hard for legends and heroes to rise above the refuse. Otherwise, Bobby was pretty damn sure that Sam and Dean would be their own urban legends wherever they went.