Firestorm
Title: Firestorm
Characters/Pairings: wee-Sam and wee-Dean, Mary and John Winchester
Rating: PG13 (for graphic violence)
Word Count: 1,787
Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural or Firestarter but I do love both so very, very much. The idea of the melding was just too tempting.
Prompt: "Supernatural/Firestarter (80's movie), Sam andor/ Dean, Sam can control the wind; Dean can control fire; their parents were participants in a government experiment and their mother was killed by government agents who'd come for the boys" from nevcolleil at comment_fic
Crossover: Supernatural/Firestarter (the movie)
Summary: John and Mary had both participated in The Shop's "LSD" experiment and both came away changed. They knew that one day The Shop would come for them and their children, they just didn't know when.
They came six months after Sammy was born. Mary called the garage, her voice breathless and stressed, barely containing her panic. “Get Dean. Now.”
He didn’t hesitate, didn’t question, didn’t even say goodbye. He just dropped the phone and ran; drove like a madman to Dean’s preschool. Because Mary was never wrong. When she said things like that, John had learned to listen. She didn’t need to explain, he’d see soon enough what she saw.
He almost didn’t make it. A man, a stranger, was walking his son calmly to a parked car that was running with two other men inside. There was no question they were government - the generic suits and shades. The hidden guns under their suits and the lethal glint to their eyes.
Dean walked calmly alongside the man, holding his hand, but his face looked unsure and slightly afraid. John barely stopped the car before jumping out and running toward them.
“Dean!”
Dean looked up at his dad as did the agent. He pulled Dean close to him, maneuvering him in front of him like a shield. But Dean would have none of it and began to struggle in the man’s grip to reach his father.
“Daddy!”
John slowed and held his hands out to show that he only wanted to talk, “Let my boy go.”
“I don’t think so Mr. Winchester. The Shop wants your family to come in.”
John began to feel his own ability build. The building pressure in his skull was becoming overwhelming but he knew he would only have one shot at this and he didn’t want Dean to get hurt. But Dean had other ideas.
“No! Daddy said ‘let go’ and that means LET GO!” and with that the man’s shoes caught on fire and his pants legs quickly followed.
Fear flashed across the man’s face and he let go of Dean to try to put out the flames. Dean quickly ran to his father, who scooped him up into his arms. Dean hid his face in his father’s shoulder and whispered, “I’m sorry Daddy, it got away from me.”
John didn’t get a chance to respond as he heard the waiting car accelerate into action and jump the curb towards them. Without thought, John pushed at the car with everything he had, causing his head to explode in pain. The car swerved, the driver frantically struggling to regain control, and drove into a nearby wall. The impact was swift and violent causing the gas tank to ignite and the car to explode.
John ran back to their car, placing Dean in his car seat, and pealing out of the lot. He didn’t look back at the chaos behind them as he heard sirens in the distance. His only thoughts now were of Mary and Sammy and the need to get to them. The drive to their home felt like an eternity but he knew in reality it was probably the fastest he had ever driven.
He didn’t pull into the driveway but cut the Impala’s rumbling engine at the top of the street and rolled to a stop in front of the house. The front door stood open as if yelling to all who could see that things were not right at the Winchester house. John quickly ran inside, trying hard to push away his panic and wishing he had his gun that was stored in his bedroom.
Once inside, he could hear Sammy. He was screaming and crying in rage. John swiftly ascended the stairs, moving with care to avoid the steps that creaked and groaned. At the top of the stairs, he hugged the walls, approaching Sammy’s nursery with caution. The enemy was in his house and it would do none of them any good if he got careless and sloppy.
What he saw in Sammy’s room left him breathless. Dean hadn’t displayed his fire abilities until he was a year old, setting fire to a baby gate in a fit of temper. It would seem that Sam was an early bloomer or that perhaps extreme stress had triggered his abilities.
He floated in the center of a whirlwind that was tearing through his room. Every piece of furniture was smashed and pieces of furniture and toys whipped around the room. Two men lay broken and in an unmoving heap by Sammy’s closet. Sammy’s face was contorted in baby rage and the wind howled along with his screams.
John began trying to force his way to his son, calling out to his boy, “Sammy, it’s daddy. It’s okay. I’m here now.”
But the wind was too strong and Sammy didn’t seem to hear. Once in the room, John could feel his footing begin to slip and even with his telekinesis, he found himself being shoved against the wall.
“Sammy,” came a child’s voice.
With effort, John turned his head to see Dean standing in the doorway. His eyes were wide with surprise and wonder. He hadn’t thought to tell Dean to stay in the car, so it should have been no surprise to see his eldest standing there.
“No, Dean! Stay back!” If Dean walked in, he wouldn’t have any defense against Sammy and he would be smashed against the walls like the two men had.
But Dean ignored him. His eyes were only for his brother. “Sammy, look, I got Bear-Bear.” It was then that John saw that Dean had Sammy’s favorite stuffed toy.
It was like magic. Sammy saw the bear and abruptly stopped screaming. The wind ceased just as quickly and Sammy began to drop. John dove across the room and caught the baby before he hit the floor. John stood, holding Sammy close to his chest. Dean approached them and quietly held the bear out to Sammy, who clutched it in his arms. Looking around the room, Dean spotted the men and his eyes grew wide and anxious.
“Where’s mommy?” whispered Dean in a shaky voice.
“I don’t know but I‘m going to look.” He bent down and handed Sammy to Dean. “Take your brother outside, Dean. Go, now.” Without hesitation, the little boy turned and ran down the stairs with his brother.
Once alone, John became painfully aware how quiet the house now was. He knew Mary was still here, deep in his gut he knew it. But his mind babbled at him that the silence could mean that she had run to the neighbors or the police. Yet, he knew she would never have left Sammy defenseless and alone. So with increasing panic and dread, he moved from room to room, searching.
He finally broke the silence as he moved further into the house and each room proved to be as empty as the last. By the time he reached the basement, he was shouting Mary’s name and running without care for his own safety. He was greeted by a battleground. Mary went down swinging. A man and a woman lay near the doorway, their cooling bodies riddled with bullets. His gun lay nearby, he picked it up and found the chamber and clip empty.
On the table near the washer that Mary used so many times to fold their laundry, lay Mary herself. Even from where he stood, he knew she was gone. He staggered toward the table. Blood soaked her shirt at her stomach. They had shot her twice before they were able to overpower her. Her hands were cuffed behind her back and her throat was deeply cut and bruised from the extension chord that was still wrapped around her neck.
A sob escaped his lips and he began to frantically touch her, looking for any spark of life.
“No, no. Oh please baby, wake up. Oh god, please.”
He began to sob in earnest and he pulled her into his arms, holding her close. She was dead, his beautiful Mary was dead. For a brief time, he just rocked back and forth with her, letting his grief wash over him. But he knew there was no time for this. There was too much at stake to fall apart now. He had to think and quickly.
He was a Marine, trained for war. He had been to ‘Nam and knew his government well and the depths they were willing to go to, to get what they wanted, especially the spooks. They were the worst because they never came at you head on. His boys weren’t safe as long as The Shop was after them. Those monsters had set their sights on Dean and Sammy and they would never stop until they had them. The Shop wouldn’t be satisfied until the boys were under their control and their abilities leashed in their chains.
John couldn’t let that happen. The Shop needed to be stopped but it wouldn’t be easy. He and Mary had learned early on that The Shop was powerful with a lot of political and financial backing. It was going to take a lot of time and patience, but John knew he could destroy them, the well-being of his children would be all the motivation he needed to keep going, no matter what. This was something he would have to take the long view on as he was sure there would be no quick fix. The Shop was like a hydra, with many heads. Chop off one head and two more would rise up.
But right now, he had to run with his sons and hide. They would have to constantly stay on the move, always under the radar using false aliases to get by. He would have to train his sons, both in their abilities and as soldiers. He would make sure that even if The Shop got close to them, they would regret it and the boys could fend off any attack. There were groups out their who were anti-government who would be more than willing to help him out and equip him as needed. Heck, he even had a couple buddies from the Corp who had no love for the government.
Yes, he had a plan. He placed his wife gently back down, laying her hands on her chest, and placing a gentle kiss on her lips. “I’m sorry, baby. I’m so sorry I couldn’t be here for you. But we got to think of our boys now. They need me to protect them. I’m all they have left. I promise you, I will keep them safe and I swear I’ll make those bastards pay for what they did to you.”
He turned away, placing the gun in his coat pocket, and walked away from the home he and Mary had made. He had work to do.
Characters/Pairings: wee-Sam and wee-Dean, Mary and John Winchester
Rating: PG13 (for graphic violence)
Word Count: 1,787
Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural or Firestarter but I do love both so very, very much. The idea of the melding was just too tempting.
Prompt: "Supernatural/Firestarter (80's movie), Sam andor/ Dean, Sam can control the wind; Dean can control fire; their parents were participants in a government experiment and their mother was killed by government agents who'd come for the boys" from nevcolleil at comment_fic
Crossover: Supernatural/Firestarter (the movie)
Summary: John and Mary had both participated in The Shop's "LSD" experiment and both came away changed. They knew that one day The Shop would come for them and their children, they just didn't know when.
They came six months after Sammy was born. Mary called the garage, her voice breathless and stressed, barely containing her panic. “Get Dean. Now.”
He didn’t hesitate, didn’t question, didn’t even say goodbye. He just dropped the phone and ran; drove like a madman to Dean’s preschool. Because Mary was never wrong. When she said things like that, John had learned to listen. She didn’t need to explain, he’d see soon enough what she saw.
He almost didn’t make it. A man, a stranger, was walking his son calmly to a parked car that was running with two other men inside. There was no question they were government - the generic suits and shades. The hidden guns under their suits and the lethal glint to their eyes.
Dean walked calmly alongside the man, holding his hand, but his face looked unsure and slightly afraid. John barely stopped the car before jumping out and running toward them.
“Dean!”
Dean looked up at his dad as did the agent. He pulled Dean close to him, maneuvering him in front of him like a shield. But Dean would have none of it and began to struggle in the man’s grip to reach his father.
“Daddy!”
John slowed and held his hands out to show that he only wanted to talk, “Let my boy go.”
“I don’t think so Mr. Winchester. The Shop wants your family to come in.”
John began to feel his own ability build. The building pressure in his skull was becoming overwhelming but he knew he would only have one shot at this and he didn’t want Dean to get hurt. But Dean had other ideas.
“No! Daddy said ‘let go’ and that means LET GO!” and with that the man’s shoes caught on fire and his pants legs quickly followed.
Fear flashed across the man’s face and he let go of Dean to try to put out the flames. Dean quickly ran to his father, who scooped him up into his arms. Dean hid his face in his father’s shoulder and whispered, “I’m sorry Daddy, it got away from me.”
John didn’t get a chance to respond as he heard the waiting car accelerate into action and jump the curb towards them. Without thought, John pushed at the car with everything he had, causing his head to explode in pain. The car swerved, the driver frantically struggling to regain control, and drove into a nearby wall. The impact was swift and violent causing the gas tank to ignite and the car to explode.
John ran back to their car, placing Dean in his car seat, and pealing out of the lot. He didn’t look back at the chaos behind them as he heard sirens in the distance. His only thoughts now were of Mary and Sammy and the need to get to them. The drive to their home felt like an eternity but he knew in reality it was probably the fastest he had ever driven.
He didn’t pull into the driveway but cut the Impala’s rumbling engine at the top of the street and rolled to a stop in front of the house. The front door stood open as if yelling to all who could see that things were not right at the Winchester house. John quickly ran inside, trying hard to push away his panic and wishing he had his gun that was stored in his bedroom.
Once inside, he could hear Sammy. He was screaming and crying in rage. John swiftly ascended the stairs, moving with care to avoid the steps that creaked and groaned. At the top of the stairs, he hugged the walls, approaching Sammy’s nursery with caution. The enemy was in his house and it would do none of them any good if he got careless and sloppy.
What he saw in Sammy’s room left him breathless. Dean hadn’t displayed his fire abilities until he was a year old, setting fire to a baby gate in a fit of temper. It would seem that Sam was an early bloomer or that perhaps extreme stress had triggered his abilities.
He floated in the center of a whirlwind that was tearing through his room. Every piece of furniture was smashed and pieces of furniture and toys whipped around the room. Two men lay broken and in an unmoving heap by Sammy’s closet. Sammy’s face was contorted in baby rage and the wind howled along with his screams.
John began trying to force his way to his son, calling out to his boy, “Sammy, it’s daddy. It’s okay. I’m here now.”
But the wind was too strong and Sammy didn’t seem to hear. Once in the room, John could feel his footing begin to slip and even with his telekinesis, he found himself being shoved against the wall.
“Sammy,” came a child’s voice.
With effort, John turned his head to see Dean standing in the doorway. His eyes were wide with surprise and wonder. He hadn’t thought to tell Dean to stay in the car, so it should have been no surprise to see his eldest standing there.
“No, Dean! Stay back!” If Dean walked in, he wouldn’t have any defense against Sammy and he would be smashed against the walls like the two men had.
But Dean ignored him. His eyes were only for his brother. “Sammy, look, I got Bear-Bear.” It was then that John saw that Dean had Sammy’s favorite stuffed toy.
It was like magic. Sammy saw the bear and abruptly stopped screaming. The wind ceased just as quickly and Sammy began to drop. John dove across the room and caught the baby before he hit the floor. John stood, holding Sammy close to his chest. Dean approached them and quietly held the bear out to Sammy, who clutched it in his arms. Looking around the room, Dean spotted the men and his eyes grew wide and anxious.
“Where’s mommy?” whispered Dean in a shaky voice.
“I don’t know but I‘m going to look.” He bent down and handed Sammy to Dean. “Take your brother outside, Dean. Go, now.” Without hesitation, the little boy turned and ran down the stairs with his brother.
Once alone, John became painfully aware how quiet the house now was. He knew Mary was still here, deep in his gut he knew it. But his mind babbled at him that the silence could mean that she had run to the neighbors or the police. Yet, he knew she would never have left Sammy defenseless and alone. So with increasing panic and dread, he moved from room to room, searching.
He finally broke the silence as he moved further into the house and each room proved to be as empty as the last. By the time he reached the basement, he was shouting Mary’s name and running without care for his own safety. He was greeted by a battleground. Mary went down swinging. A man and a woman lay near the doorway, their cooling bodies riddled with bullets. His gun lay nearby, he picked it up and found the chamber and clip empty.
On the table near the washer that Mary used so many times to fold their laundry, lay Mary herself. Even from where he stood, he knew she was gone. He staggered toward the table. Blood soaked her shirt at her stomach. They had shot her twice before they were able to overpower her. Her hands were cuffed behind her back and her throat was deeply cut and bruised from the extension chord that was still wrapped around her neck.
A sob escaped his lips and he began to frantically touch her, looking for any spark of life.
“No, no. Oh please baby, wake up. Oh god, please.”
He began to sob in earnest and he pulled her into his arms, holding her close. She was dead, his beautiful Mary was dead. For a brief time, he just rocked back and forth with her, letting his grief wash over him. But he knew there was no time for this. There was too much at stake to fall apart now. He had to think and quickly.
He was a Marine, trained for war. He had been to ‘Nam and knew his government well and the depths they were willing to go to, to get what they wanted, especially the spooks. They were the worst because they never came at you head on. His boys weren’t safe as long as The Shop was after them. Those monsters had set their sights on Dean and Sammy and they would never stop until they had them. The Shop wouldn’t be satisfied until the boys were under their control and their abilities leashed in their chains.
John couldn’t let that happen. The Shop needed to be stopped but it wouldn’t be easy. He and Mary had learned early on that The Shop was powerful with a lot of political and financial backing. It was going to take a lot of time and patience, but John knew he could destroy them, the well-being of his children would be all the motivation he needed to keep going, no matter what. This was something he would have to take the long view on as he was sure there would be no quick fix. The Shop was like a hydra, with many heads. Chop off one head and two more would rise up.
But right now, he had to run with his sons and hide. They would have to constantly stay on the move, always under the radar using false aliases to get by. He would have to train his sons, both in their abilities and as soldiers. He would make sure that even if The Shop got close to them, they would regret it and the boys could fend off any attack. There were groups out their who were anti-government who would be more than willing to help him out and equip him as needed. Heck, he even had a couple buddies from the Corp who had no love for the government.
Yes, he had a plan. He placed his wife gently back down, laying her hands on her chest, and placing a gentle kiss on her lips. “I’m sorry, baby. I’m so sorry I couldn’t be here for you. But we got to think of our boys now. They need me to protect them. I’m all they have left. I promise you, I will keep them safe and I swear I’ll make those bastards pay for what they did to you.”
He turned away, placing the gun in his coat pocket, and walked away from the home he and Mary had made. He had work to do.