In Spite of All the Danger (5/?) and (6/?)
I had trouble with my other user name so...
b>Title: In Spite of All the Danger
Chapter Title: It's All Too Much
Wordcount: 886 this chapter
Rating: PG-13
Characters/Pairings: Sam, Dean, OMC with appearances by Castiel and Ruby Warnings: None
Spoilers: None so far. It's set late season 4 so there will possibly be eventual mentions of what's gone on before
Disclaimer: If you recognize the character, it's not mine
Summary: The brothers, in the course of a simple salt and burn, meet up with a stranger who conveniently needs to be rescued
A/N: This is my first Supernatural fic so please be kind. I'm a little nervous regarding its reception. Thanks to my two betas just_ruth and samidha Links to the real places at the bottom.
Song on YouTube: It's All Too Much--The Beatles
One: Dear Prudence
Two: You Can't Do That
Three: Help!
Four: Happiness is a Warm Gun
Later the next morning, Sam directed Dean to the Gunn Memorial Library in Washington. With Zeppelin playing in the background, Dean began to question Alan about the future. Sam took the time to study the man. Alan was close to 40 with light brown hair that was a little longer than Dean’s and green eyes. He was close to 6-foot with a lean athletic build which meant he kept in shape. There was something about Alan that was familiar, but he wasn’t sure what. The idea that Alan had been chose by God to help them was really tough to wrap his head around. The fact that Cas gave his approval leant credence to his story. For Dean, all it took was bonding over weapons. For him, the jury was still out.
“Of course you know I can’t tell you too much to keep from influencing your choices.”
“But we’re out in space and all, like Trek?”
“Yeah, kinda like that.”
The road evened out at a snow-covered green. The white historical buildings situated around it made a picture postcard of a New England winter. In his mind he reeled off some of the architectural styles he remembered from a distant art history course, the same one he used to sweet talk Sarah Blake: Colonial, Colonial Revival and Federal.
“Sammy, c’mon, we’re here.”
Sam realized they were in the small parking lot next to the library and Alan was already at the entrance. “Yeah.” He got out of the car and followed Dean inside.
Alan was waiting for them, unwinding his scarf. “The room we want is climate controlled, so don’t keep opening the door, okay?”
“I’d better go hit the head, then.”
“We’ll be right upstairs.” Sam would’ve taken the stairs two at a time if they hadn’t been in a library. Instead, he jogged up.
“You enjoy this, don’t you?” came Alan’s voice behind him.
“What did you say?”
“You must really enjoy this by the way you’re diving into the books.”
Sam stopped at the door. “I do. When I was a kid and too young to hunt, researching made me feel like I was helping.”
Dean joined them. “Okay, let’s get started.”
Sam entered the room and took a deep breath. He so loved the smell of old books and found it soothing. No one else was in the room so they’d be able to speak openly. “Okay,” he said as he set his laptop on the table provided, “we should concentrate on women, mainly from the late 18th century, who lived here in Litchfield County.”
Alan scanned the shelves, trying to locate the section they needed. “This is what we want.”
Sam joined him and helped sift through the material as Dean just leaned back in one of the chairs, feet on the table. “C’mon, Dean, we need you to be serious about this.”
Dean put his feet back on the floor. “I can do research, Professor. I did it while you were off geeking at Stanford. I just don’t get off on it like you do.”
Sam didn’t want to argue so just buried himself in the books.
He leaned back from the pile of books in front of him and realized he was alone. When had the others left? He looked at the list he had typed into the laptop. Some of the names were the same but most were new. This was not making the search any easier. With a sigh, he put the books away and slipped the computer back into its case before leaving the room. He nodded to the woman at the circulation desk before stepping outside. The Impala was there, empty. He took out his cell and called Dean. “Hey, where did you go?”
“We’re at a coffee shop right across the Green.”
“‘The Green’?” He never thought he’d hear those words from his brother’s mouth.
“That’s what it’s called.”
“Okay, I see it. I’ll be right there. Order me a cup.” Sam ended the call and dropped the phone back into his pocket as he walked over to the aptly named Crossroads Café.
Alan and Dean were sitting at a table by the window and Dean was laughing. He slipped onto the chair next to Dean. “What’s so funny?”
“Alan was telling me some of the pranks he used to get up to. Our stuff is mild compared to it.”
“You could’ve at least told me you were leaving.” Sam sipped the still steaming coffee.
“We did,” said Dean. “You just didn’t hear us.”
“I’m sorry, Sam. I was just beginning to get a little restless,” Alan confessed. “Dean agreed to come with me.”
Sam had a feeling it was more the other way around. “Anyway, according to the names, we’ve narrowed it down to seven different locations throughout the county and at least three different women at each general area.”
“I think we’d better wait and continue this conversation in a better location,” said Alan.
Sam noticed that they were getting a few stares. “Okay, I’ll fill you in once we get back to the hotel.”
“There’s gonna be a slight detour,” Dean said with a crooked grin. “Burgers and pie.”
“Of course.” Sam drank his coffee and chuckled at how easily his brother could be bought with the promise of food.
General site about the town of Washington with a picture of the library and church on the Green
Title: In Spite of All the Danger
Chapter Title: Getting Better
Wordcount: 974 this chapter
Song on YouTube: Getting Better--The Beatles
One: Dear Prudence
Two: You Can't Do That
Three: Help!
Four: Happiness is a Warm Gun
Five: It's All Too Much
Dean sighed in near ecstasy as he took another bite of the restaurant’s signature burger. It was a bit more high-end than he normally would have-with bacon and blue cheese sauce on some fancy roll-but it was worth it. This definitely surpassed Providence. Sam had tucked into his salad and was talking with Alan who was having fish and chips. “A little taste of home,” he called it.
He nearly choked at the story Alan was telling. “Hold on a second, you fought with pirates?”
“Yeah, that was early on. It was after Bosworth but before Lexington.”
“You were at Lexington? What about Concord?” questioned Sam.
Oh, Sammy boy was in geek heaven with this topic. At least it had taken his mind off the hunt for a little bit. “So, how did you get into the time travel gig?”
“I’ll give you the Reader’s Digest version. My best friend invented this machine and called me over. He also called a man named Cameron James, an arms dealer who used philanthropy as a cover. James and I fought and I got sent back to Bosworth Field in 1458. I made it home to find my best friend dead and I’m the prime suspect.”
“I know the feeling,” Dean commented around his fries.
“After a few…stops, I went home and learned the whole thing was a sting. My name was cleared and I was reinstated with a promotion.” He drank his beer.
“You’re military?” Sam looked at Dean nervously.
“Colonel. And, if you look at this logically, I have no jurisdiction of any sort considering I’m not even born for another 200 years. Besides, I’m here to help, remember?”
“Sorry, habit,” Dean said a little sheepishly.
“As long as you remember that, we’ll be fine.” Alan finished the last of his lunch. “Now, how about dessert?”
“Now you’re talking.” Dean swallowed the last of his beer and grabbed the dessert menu. There were only three kinds of pie. “I want to try this banoffi.”
Sam took the menu. “Banana, Dean? I would’ve thought you’d take the pecan with the scotch.”
“I thought I’d veer from the predictable.” He loved it when he could surprise Sam.
Later, content with a full stomach and happy behind the wheel of his baby, Dean drummed away to AC/DC. Checking the rearview mirror, he could tell Alan wasn’t a fan of the music. “Don’t like it?”
“I like more of a variety. Too much of the same and you fall into a rut.”
“I’ve got a variety. There’s AC/DC, Metallica, Zeppelin…”
“Same style, though. I think you need to branch out a bit more.”
“Sorry I asked.”
Sam laughed.
Dean pulled into the hotel parking lot. It was a bit better than their usual stop, but still not even two-star. He heard rustling as Sam gathered his papers together. The kid seemed to thrive with books and papers. “C’mon, Sammy, show us what you found.”
Sam muttered something which was probably along the lines of ‘my name is Sam’. Dean unlocked the door to their room, slipped off his jacket and tossed it on his bed, the one by the door. Alan paused at the door and Dean knew he was gauging the room for defense. Now he could see the military in him. If he really knew how to hunt, he’d be a great ally.
Sam came in last and set his stuff on the foot of the other bed. “I have a theory but we need to get more from Cas before I can say for sure.”
For some reason, Castiel seemed to answer when he called more so than Sam. Maybe it was the whole demon blood thing, he wasn’t sure. “Hey, Cas, get your butt down here!” he yelled at the ceiling. “We need some answers!”
“Why are you not out stopping the seal?” demanded Cas upon his arrival. “We do not have much time.”
“You never said there was a clock ticking down.” Dean glared at him. “You never said a lot of things.”
“Dean, you know I cannot--”
“If you know something that will help us stop this thing, you have to tell us since you got us this gig.”
“Castiel,” Alan broke in, “what can you tell us? We can’t do what you want of us unless we know the full story.”
Dean didn’t appreciate the interruption of an outsider even if it did steer them back on track. He absently rubbed the mark on his upper left arm where Castiel had grabbed him and “raised him from Perdition”. It always seemed to act up when he though of…what happened, which seemed to be quite often now. At least the nightmares had stopped coming every night. He didn’t know if it had to do with telling Sam, confronting Alastair or even resigning himself to this whole deal with the angels. He knew he still had a long way to go, and he knew it would never completely leave him, but he was beginning to come to terms with it.
“’The raising of the once-righteous shall bring about the abominable’,” Cas quoted.
Hell, that could be me and Sammy; the Righteous Man and his brother, the Abomination. He took a deep breath to banish thoughts from his mind that didn’t have to do with the hunt at hand. “So, kinda what happened with Samhain, with the sacrifice? We stopped him.”
“The seal was still broken,” Sam reminded softly.
Yeah, wasn’t trying to think on that. “So, we can handle this, right?”
“I hope so. This will be much harder to prevent. What will be raised is not named.”
“It can’t be that bad if he doesn’t have a name.”
“Dean, in early civilizations, the names of powerful beings were never said for fear of drawing their attention.” Sam sounded apologetic.
“Crap!”
The place they go for lunch
b>Title: In Spite of All the Danger
Chapter Title: It's All Too Much
Wordcount: 886 this chapter
Rating: PG-13
Characters/Pairings: Sam, Dean, OMC with appearances by Castiel and Ruby Warnings: None
Spoilers: None so far. It's set late season 4 so there will possibly be eventual mentions of what's gone on before
Disclaimer: If you recognize the character, it's not mine
Summary: The brothers, in the course of a simple salt and burn, meet up with a stranger who conveniently needs to be rescued
A/N: This is my first Supernatural fic so please be kind. I'm a little nervous regarding its reception. Thanks to my two betas just_ruth and samidha Links to the real places at the bottom.
Song on YouTube: It's All Too Much--The Beatles
One: Dear Prudence
Two: You Can't Do That
Three: Help!
Four: Happiness is a Warm Gun
Later the next morning, Sam directed Dean to the Gunn Memorial Library in Washington. With Zeppelin playing in the background, Dean began to question Alan about the future. Sam took the time to study the man. Alan was close to 40 with light brown hair that was a little longer than Dean’s and green eyes. He was close to 6-foot with a lean athletic build which meant he kept in shape. There was something about Alan that was familiar, but he wasn’t sure what. The idea that Alan had been chose by God to help them was really tough to wrap his head around. The fact that Cas gave his approval leant credence to his story. For Dean, all it took was bonding over weapons. For him, the jury was still out.
“Of course you know I can’t tell you too much to keep from influencing your choices.”
“But we’re out in space and all, like Trek?”
“Yeah, kinda like that.”
The road evened out at a snow-covered green. The white historical buildings situated around it made a picture postcard of a New England winter. In his mind he reeled off some of the architectural styles he remembered from a distant art history course, the same one he used to sweet talk Sarah Blake: Colonial, Colonial Revival and Federal.
“Sammy, c’mon, we’re here.”
Sam realized they were in the small parking lot next to the library and Alan was already at the entrance. “Yeah.” He got out of the car and followed Dean inside.
Alan was waiting for them, unwinding his scarf. “The room we want is climate controlled, so don’t keep opening the door, okay?”
“I’d better go hit the head, then.”
“We’ll be right upstairs.” Sam would’ve taken the stairs two at a time if they hadn’t been in a library. Instead, he jogged up.
“You enjoy this, don’t you?” came Alan’s voice behind him.
“What did you say?”
“You must really enjoy this by the way you’re diving into the books.”
Sam stopped at the door. “I do. When I was a kid and too young to hunt, researching made me feel like I was helping.”
Dean joined them. “Okay, let’s get started.”
Sam entered the room and took a deep breath. He so loved the smell of old books and found it soothing. No one else was in the room so they’d be able to speak openly. “Okay,” he said as he set his laptop on the table provided, “we should concentrate on women, mainly from the late 18th century, who lived here in Litchfield County.”
Alan scanned the shelves, trying to locate the section they needed. “This is what we want.”
Sam joined him and helped sift through the material as Dean just leaned back in one of the chairs, feet on the table. “C’mon, Dean, we need you to be serious about this.”
Dean put his feet back on the floor. “I can do research, Professor. I did it while you were off geeking at Stanford. I just don’t get off on it like you do.”
Sam didn’t want to argue so just buried himself in the books.
He leaned back from the pile of books in front of him and realized he was alone. When had the others left? He looked at the list he had typed into the laptop. Some of the names were the same but most were new. This was not making the search any easier. With a sigh, he put the books away and slipped the computer back into its case before leaving the room. He nodded to the woman at the circulation desk before stepping outside. The Impala was there, empty. He took out his cell and called Dean. “Hey, where did you go?”
“We’re at a coffee shop right across the Green.”
“‘The Green’?” He never thought he’d hear those words from his brother’s mouth.
“That’s what it’s called.”
“Okay, I see it. I’ll be right there. Order me a cup.” Sam ended the call and dropped the phone back into his pocket as he walked over to the aptly named Crossroads Café.
Alan and Dean were sitting at a table by the window and Dean was laughing. He slipped onto the chair next to Dean. “What’s so funny?”
“Alan was telling me some of the pranks he used to get up to. Our stuff is mild compared to it.”
“You could’ve at least told me you were leaving.” Sam sipped the still steaming coffee.
“We did,” said Dean. “You just didn’t hear us.”
“I’m sorry, Sam. I was just beginning to get a little restless,” Alan confessed. “Dean agreed to come with me.”
Sam had a feeling it was more the other way around. “Anyway, according to the names, we’ve narrowed it down to seven different locations throughout the county and at least three different women at each general area.”
“I think we’d better wait and continue this conversation in a better location,” said Alan.
Sam noticed that they were getting a few stares. “Okay, I’ll fill you in once we get back to the hotel.”
“There’s gonna be a slight detour,” Dean said with a crooked grin. “Burgers and pie.”
“Of course.” Sam drank his coffee and chuckled at how easily his brother could be bought with the promise of food.
General site about the town of Washington with a picture of the library and church on the Green
Title: In Spite of All the Danger
Chapter Title: Getting Better
Wordcount: 974 this chapter
Song on YouTube: Getting Better--The Beatles
One: Dear Prudence
Two: You Can't Do That
Three: Help!
Four: Happiness is a Warm Gun
Five: It's All Too Much
Dean sighed in near ecstasy as he took another bite of the restaurant’s signature burger. It was a bit more high-end than he normally would have-with bacon and blue cheese sauce on some fancy roll-but it was worth it. This definitely surpassed Providence. Sam had tucked into his salad and was talking with Alan who was having fish and chips. “A little taste of home,” he called it.
He nearly choked at the story Alan was telling. “Hold on a second, you fought with pirates?”
“Yeah, that was early on. It was after Bosworth but before Lexington.”
“You were at Lexington? What about Concord?” questioned Sam.
Oh, Sammy boy was in geek heaven with this topic. At least it had taken his mind off the hunt for a little bit. “So, how did you get into the time travel gig?”
“I’ll give you the Reader’s Digest version. My best friend invented this machine and called me over. He also called a man named Cameron James, an arms dealer who used philanthropy as a cover. James and I fought and I got sent back to Bosworth Field in 1458. I made it home to find my best friend dead and I’m the prime suspect.”
“I know the feeling,” Dean commented around his fries.
“After a few…stops, I went home and learned the whole thing was a sting. My name was cleared and I was reinstated with a promotion.” He drank his beer.
“You’re military?” Sam looked at Dean nervously.
“Colonel. And, if you look at this logically, I have no jurisdiction of any sort considering I’m not even born for another 200 years. Besides, I’m here to help, remember?”
“Sorry, habit,” Dean said a little sheepishly.
“As long as you remember that, we’ll be fine.” Alan finished the last of his lunch. “Now, how about dessert?”
“Now you’re talking.” Dean swallowed the last of his beer and grabbed the dessert menu. There were only three kinds of pie. “I want to try this banoffi.”
Sam took the menu. “Banana, Dean? I would’ve thought you’d take the pecan with the scotch.”
“I thought I’d veer from the predictable.” He loved it when he could surprise Sam.
Later, content with a full stomach and happy behind the wheel of his baby, Dean drummed away to AC/DC. Checking the rearview mirror, he could tell Alan wasn’t a fan of the music. “Don’t like it?”
“I like more of a variety. Too much of the same and you fall into a rut.”
“I’ve got a variety. There’s AC/DC, Metallica, Zeppelin…”
“Same style, though. I think you need to branch out a bit more.”
“Sorry I asked.”
Sam laughed.
Dean pulled into the hotel parking lot. It was a bit better than their usual stop, but still not even two-star. He heard rustling as Sam gathered his papers together. The kid seemed to thrive with books and papers. “C’mon, Sammy, show us what you found.”
Sam muttered something which was probably along the lines of ‘my name is Sam’. Dean unlocked the door to their room, slipped off his jacket and tossed it on his bed, the one by the door. Alan paused at the door and Dean knew he was gauging the room for defense. Now he could see the military in him. If he really knew how to hunt, he’d be a great ally.
Sam came in last and set his stuff on the foot of the other bed. “I have a theory but we need to get more from Cas before I can say for sure.”
For some reason, Castiel seemed to answer when he called more so than Sam. Maybe it was the whole demon blood thing, he wasn’t sure. “Hey, Cas, get your butt down here!” he yelled at the ceiling. “We need some answers!”
“Why are you not out stopping the seal?” demanded Cas upon his arrival. “We do not have much time.”
“You never said there was a clock ticking down.” Dean glared at him. “You never said a lot of things.”
“Dean, you know I cannot--”
“If you know something that will help us stop this thing, you have to tell us since you got us this gig.”
“Castiel,” Alan broke in, “what can you tell us? We can’t do what you want of us unless we know the full story.”
Dean didn’t appreciate the interruption of an outsider even if it did steer them back on track. He absently rubbed the mark on his upper left arm where Castiel had grabbed him and “raised him from Perdition”. It always seemed to act up when he though of…what happened, which seemed to be quite often now. At least the nightmares had stopped coming every night. He didn’t know if it had to do with telling Sam, confronting Alastair or even resigning himself to this whole deal with the angels. He knew he still had a long way to go, and he knew it would never completely leave him, but he was beginning to come to terms with it.
“’The raising of the once-righteous shall bring about the abominable’,” Cas quoted.
Hell, that could be me and Sammy; the Righteous Man and his brother, the Abomination. He took a deep breath to banish thoughts from his mind that didn’t have to do with the hunt at hand. “So, kinda what happened with Samhain, with the sacrifice? We stopped him.”
“The seal was still broken,” Sam reminded softly.
Yeah, wasn’t trying to think on that. “So, we can handle this, right?”
“I hope so. This will be much harder to prevent. What will be raised is not named.”
“It can’t be that bad if he doesn’t have a name.”
“Dean, in early civilizations, the names of powerful beings were never said for fear of drawing their attention.” Sam sounded apologetic.
“Crap!”
The place they go for lunch