Phonecall
Title: Phonecall
Author: shyriann
Characters: Dean, Alastair
Rating: PG-13 (language)
Summary: So with the Season 5 finale tomorrow, this is my final "If I was a SPN writer, this is what I'd do" thought that popped into my head on the way home from work. So I turned it into my very own 300 word drabble prompt and this is what came of it. Nothing special, just a flash of "Ha! Wouldn't that suck?"
Dean didn’t glance at the caller ID before flipping open the phone, too distracted with thoughts of Sam’s crackpot idea for getting Lucifer back in his box.
“Yeah,” he said irritably
“Dean. So good to hear your voice. I’ve missed you terribly.”
The voice belonged to no one he’d ever seen before, he was certain. But there was no mistaking the softly lisping “S” sounds, or the cool, menacing, sarcastic confidence of the entity on the phone. Adrenaline surged, making his fingers tingle, followed by a wave of nausea that threatened to claim the pizza he’d had earlier. No fucking way.
“Afraid so, Dean-o,” and he wasn’t sure if he’d spoken aloud or if his mind was being read. “There’s apparently nothing Michael wouldn’t do to get you to say yes, my boy. Including bringing me back for a joyful reunion.”
“Fuck you.”
“Oh, Dean. That might convince a human, but I know all the secret meanings behind every bravado laced protest. It’s the ‘K’, you see… no feeling behind it. When you really mean it, your ‘fuck’ is crisp, but that one… that one tells me you’ve missed me too.”
“What do you want, Alastair?”
“ Still asking questions you know the answer to. I want to see how dapper the boss is going to look walking around in that pretty brother of yours, but mostly, I just want you. Detroit, Dean. Don’t wear your good shoes, I wouldn’t want to ruin them.”
“Fuck you.”
But the “K” lacked conviction this time, too. The terror was sweet on his tongue.
The voice on the other end chuckled, an unmistakable sound that preceded blood and whispered admiration. He could already feel the blade at his throat, the echo of it in his palm. It wasn’t fear that made him shudder.
Author: shyriann
Characters: Dean, Alastair
Rating: PG-13 (language)
Summary: So with the Season 5 finale tomorrow, this is my final "If I was a SPN writer, this is what I'd do" thought that popped into my head on the way home from work. So I turned it into my very own 300 word drabble prompt and this is what came of it. Nothing special, just a flash of "Ha! Wouldn't that suck?"
Dean didn’t glance at the caller ID before flipping open the phone, too distracted with thoughts of Sam’s crackpot idea for getting Lucifer back in his box.
“Yeah,” he said irritably
“Dean. So good to hear your voice. I’ve missed you terribly.”
The voice belonged to no one he’d ever seen before, he was certain. But there was no mistaking the softly lisping “S” sounds, or the cool, menacing, sarcastic confidence of the entity on the phone. Adrenaline surged, making his fingers tingle, followed by a wave of nausea that threatened to claim the pizza he’d had earlier. No fucking way.
“Afraid so, Dean-o,” and he wasn’t sure if he’d spoken aloud or if his mind was being read. “There’s apparently nothing Michael wouldn’t do to get you to say yes, my boy. Including bringing me back for a joyful reunion.”
“Fuck you.”
“Oh, Dean. That might convince a human, but I know all the secret meanings behind every bravado laced protest. It’s the ‘K’, you see… no feeling behind it. When you really mean it, your ‘fuck’ is crisp, but that one… that one tells me you’ve missed me too.”
“What do you want, Alastair?”
“ Still asking questions you know the answer to. I want to see how dapper the boss is going to look walking around in that pretty brother of yours, but mostly, I just want you. Detroit, Dean. Don’t wear your good shoes, I wouldn’t want to ruin them.”
“Fuck you.”
But the “K” lacked conviction this time, too. The terror was sweet on his tongue.
The voice on the other end chuckled, an unmistakable sound that preceded blood and whispered admiration. He could already feel the blade at his throat, the echo of it in his palm. It wasn’t fear that made him shudder.