CLOSED TO NEW PROMPTS // SPN & OTHER CHARACTER Prompts Post // December 1-15
This post is for ANY AND ALL SPN & OTHER CHARACTER PROMPTS. Characters from other fandoms are allowed as long as the main pairing includes one Supernatural character. Reminder: all prompts with people under the age of 18 should be posted to the underage post.
[Reference Material]
FORMATTING
Prompts
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[Reference Material]
FORMATTING
Prompts
All prompts subject lines must adhere to the following format:
REQUEST ( Read more... )
Also, please note there are some suicidal thoughts in this chapter, but nothing graphic and no attempt. just forewarning.
Sam doesn’t die.
Instead, things slow down and speed up at the same time. He and Amelia buy a house together, one with two bedrooms, a bathroom and a kitchen. It has a big backyard for Riot and a living room with a huge window facing the front.
At first Sam feels so out of place he can’t stand it. There’s too much room and not enough. He unpacks her things and throws his duffle in a room. They switch eventually though, because Amelia’s not a morning person and the sun rises on the left side of the house, so he gives Amelia the right.
They buy Sam a bed and sheets.
Sam has his own drawers, his own closet.
Then it’s been two weeks and they’ve moved into a house together.
It feels like ten years.
Sam wonders if he’s dreaming.
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He and Amelia don’t sleep together, contrary to popular belief. They’re an ideal couple to all their neighbors. They have a house and a dog and are happy.
But they don’t have sex. He doesn’t think either of them could stomach it really.
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By the end of the first month, Sam’s gotten pretty used to the idea of Normal. Of Safe.
The only supernatural proofing in the whole house is around Box, hidden under his bed. He’s surrounded Box in a ring of salt and silver; sat Box on a Devil’s Trap the size of a dinner plate. There’re the hoodoo protection charms he remembers from the haunted mansion up north, some new ones he picked up over the years as well. Some Norse runes, some Egyptian spells.
He angel proofs Box and sets up a wire-trigger to set off a few exploding rounds for any humans with sticky fingers.
Nothing is touching his kid.
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Sam only thinks about killing himself once.
It’s before Amelia’s dad but after the call about Don and Sam’s might’ve had too much to drink to be making any decisions about life or death at the moment.
But he’s been to hell, can do again. Probably will end up there when he goes the final time, so he’s not too worried about pain.
Sam knows pain.
He gets in the Impala with his gun and rests it on his thighs.
He wonders if Dean would’ve had a bigger problem with the bloodstains or the dog hair.
It’s a pretty obvious answer, really.
Amelia is supposed to be at work, thinking about what to do now that Don’s back in the picture. Riot’s with her, always goes to the office to sniff around during the day and Sam got his first tax letter in over ten years this morning. It was nondescript and to the point. Somehow it caught him by surprise.
He always thought Dean’d be by his side when it came, that big brother would make a crude joke about Big Brother.
Or they’d both be dead.
Instead it’s on a Tuesday in the middle of a home he owns and he has curtains and a living room and a dresser all his own.
Then Amelia’s slapping her palm on the Impala’s window, a bunch of smacks in quick succession. Sam sees her face change from playful to frantic in a split-second.
He wonders why she’s home so early.
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Amelia had forgotten her stethoscope and she always hates using other people’s instruments. The earpieces are cesspools of disease and ‘why would I want someone else’s earwax in my ears Sam? It’s unsanitary.’
She yells at him for an hour. She cries and pulls at her hair and her face does this nervous twitch she has when she’s upset. Amelia calls him selfish and how could he do this to himself? How does he think she’d feel if she had to find him in that car? This can’t be about Don because you’re not that stupid Sam; I know you’re not. You’re a good person how could you! I love you, you idiot and I don’t want you to die!
Sam can only nod. He really is very sorry.
The feelings he has these days are so few and in between. He tries to remember, but he doesn’t even know why he was suicidal in the first place.
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Amelia locks the bathroom cabinets. She takes his gun. She hides the knives. Amelia’s locked him out of the garage and the Impala alike.
“You won’t go to the hospital right?”
Sam nods.
“Well then we’re not going to give you a reason to.”
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When Amelia’s father visits, no one mentions why they eat dinner with spoons.
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I needed a fix-it for, well, basically everything that happened this season - and this story is perfect! You're writing this brilliantly, it's so bleak and Sam's so empty and hurt, marvellous!
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Don shows up not long after Amelia’s father leaves. He’s sick, he’s tired and he wants his wife back.
He doesn’t ask Sam to move out right away. Sam stays another month and a half, mucking around and trying hard to stay out of their way. Honestly he feels like he’s walking on eggshells half the time with how awkward things are sometimes between him and Don. The man clearly suspects something between him and Amelia, despite any protest from either of them.
But he’s a decent man who respects Sam for honest work, for taking care of Amelia while he was gone (in any capacity it seems) and Sam feels a growing level of friendly affection towards him.
He’s still relieved though, when Don sits him down in the kitchen and tells it to him straight.
He wants to buy Sam’s share of the house off of him and won’t take no for an answer. Don claps a hand on his shoulder and says it’s been hard to reconnect with Amelia since he came back. Being together, just the two of them, will really help. They were trying to become parents for a short while before Don enlisted and they might be ready to try again with a little time. Sam tells him he thinks his bedroom would make a great nursery.
Don just wants things to go back to the way they were.
Sam can’t blame him.
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When Amelia finds out she’s livid.
Sam’s just finished packing his things. He’s got Box tucked away safely in the backseat of the Impala and he’s got one foot out the door. When she gets to him he’s gently leading Riot away from his leg because ‘no, they’re not going for a walk boy, go back inside,’ before she’s storming into his space. She’s a woman on a mission.
“Don threatened you didn’t he?” she demands, “He’s getting rid of you and you’re just taking it!”
“No. He’s right. You two need time alone and I’m getting in the way of that. I’d probably ask for the same if it were me.”
“But Sam. I-… I’m worried about you.” She’s in his space now and he can’t not hug her. So he does. He pulls her close and whispers in her hair.
“You always worry.”
“Constantly.”
She’s crying and he’s trying hard not to.
She makes him promise to write.
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It’s Dean.
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Sam throws up twice on his way to Rufus’ cabin.
The first time, he’s driving smoothly until a tidal wave of nausea almost throws him off the road. He’s got his head out the window and is hanging bodily from the car, trying to aim away from the sleek paint job.
The second is next to the Rufus’ property line. It’s just shy of being visible to the cabin’s windows and Sam really just wants to stop shaking before he gets to the front door.
He wonders if Dean will be able to tell anything’s different about him.
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Sam doesn't know what to expect when he first sees Dean. Sometimes, when he was lying alone in scratchy motel sheets or when the sun was peaking through the blinds of his bedroom window, he would let himself think what would happen if Dean was alive. If he hadn't long since become a pile of organs and black, slimy Dick. He pictures heartfelt reunions that involve a lot of hugging and tears and seem so out of character for either one of them that he often found himself chuckling into his pillow.
He imagines it'd be something like when Dean came back from Hell. Or when Sam's body made a return trip. Then his soul. It would be fast and painless. Like ripping a band-aid off the gaping wound that somehow became their relationship.
He thinks... he really doesn't know what to think. He doesn't know what he's going to get.
This time, at least.
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What Sam gets is a face full of holy water and borax. Dean’s cutting him before Sam’s head has even stopped spinning.
Dean’s alive.
Dean’s alive and almost vibrating in his skin. He’s wound up so tightly, Sam thinks he might snap any minute and take everything in the cabin with him.
For the first time in a while, Sam’s on edge. He doesn’t feel safe.
He doesn’t like it.
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It doesn’t take long for Dean to figure out Sam wasn’t looking for him. He’s wrong about some details but Sam doesn’t correct him. He doesn’t say he looked for months, that he didn’t sleep half the time looking for connections who knew connections who heard a story from a ghost ten years back. He doesn’t say it was only these last six months that he’s settled down.
“Was it for a girl? You left me to die for some girl?”
Sam thinks back to his aching back and swollen feet, to feeling tired all the time and feeling fifty years older than he actually was. He thinks of demons with southern accents and golden hair. He thinks about trying to get the constant taste of vomit out of his mouth and swearing off booze and turning down every opportunity to get fucked up because he was protecting something important.
He thinks about Riot.
He thinks about the blood and Box and how completely, utterly shit he is at taking care of anything worth saving.
He doesn’t say anything and it’s not exactly a lie.
It could’ve just as easily been a boy.
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Poor poor poor Sam.
You've made this pack a shotgun to the stomach >>“Was it for a girl? You left me to die for some girl?”<< and I'm reeling.
Amazing job you're doing.
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I've been desperate for a fic to fix and explain everything that feels so wrong in this season so far, and this definitely hits the spot. :)
Amazing job, I can't wait for more!
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Damn you, but this is like a fist to the stomach. Wonderfully written, gods, Sam's pain and despair is almost tangible, I feel a little sick myself.
I'd also like to second every word of praise left by my predecessors - this is what I was hoping for, no needed this season (well, minus the mpreg and wincest perhaps, that would have been pushing it...*smirks*).
Bloody well done, you!
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Dean won’t touch him.
Dean won’t brush their arms together when they walk, won’t hold his hand beneath diner tables, won’t kiss him in the privacy of their motel room.
He won’t sleep in the same bed as Sam.
Dean barely speaks to him.
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They find Kevin Tran.
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Dean berates Sam no less than every day, but no more than every moment Dean’s awake, which is quite a bit more than it was before he went under.
It’s like the journey to Kevin is Sam’s own, personal guilt trip.
He gets it. He’s a shit brother and a shit friend. He couldn’t protect one measly prophet and now he has even more blood on his hands.
He’s happy Kevin’s not dead, though. He thinks that’s a plus.
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Dean doesn’t calm down. He doesn’t take five or a breather and lose some of the wild energy he’s been carrying since he got back.
He takes a little of it out on suspects, a little more on the supernatural.
He takes a lot of it out on Sam.
It’s little things and big things. It’s making fun of Sam’s shoes ("Those aren’t meant for a catwalk let alone a hunt”) to the food he eats (“Organic? Seriously? There are people dying here Sam. Grab a burger and go.”). It’s Dean reading his emails and his commenting on Sam’s applications to school (and Sam can feel those weeks of gentle persuasion from Amelia and the recommendation letter from his boss swim down the drain with the click shut of his laptop).
It’s telling Sam to his face Dean doesn’t trust him.
It’s Dean leaving for a night off.
It’s Sam finding out about Benny.
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Sam doesn’t like Benny the minute he shakes his hand. The second he feels cold, clammy skin brush against his he’s reaching for his knife and Dean’s shaking his head, ‘no’.
Then Benny opens his mouth to speak and if he didn’t think Dean would shoot him on the spot Sam would’ve ganked Benny then and there.
He would’ve drawn it out. He would’ve made it hurt.
Benny’s from the fucking Bayou and he’s like a brother to Dean.
He’s never let Dean down, apparently.
Sam waits until Dean’s asleep before he gets in the shower. Even though Dean thinks he’s gone soft in the last year, his ability to sneak around undetected is as sharp as ever. He closes the bathroom door to the sound of Dean’s snoring.
He turns the water on full blast and crumples to the dirty tiled floor. He bites his arm and screams into his jacket.
He tastes his own blood and all he gets is another reminder of Benny the Friendly Neighborhood Vampire. In his head he sees Dean pat Benny on the shoulder while Sam waits by the Impala. He hears Benny call Dean, ‘Brother’.
Sam hears a demon barter for his child over breakfast like it’s nothing more than a poker chip.
He screams until, all of a sudden he's laughing, because isn't this perfect? Dean's finally got the brother he's wanted all along.
If Dean’s concerned about the circles under Sam’s eyes the next day, or that he’s wearing the same clothes as the day before, he doesn’t say anything.
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Garth somehow has a way of making everything seem better, even while he’s fucking up massively on any given hunt.
He looks up to Dean in the same way he looked up to Bobby, Sam thinks.
Sam, on the other hand, is still that guy who started the apocalypse and went off the rails for a year. Soulless, foaming at the mouth kind of crazy isn’t always idol material.
Still, Garth offers him a shoulder and even though he brushes it off he’s feeling better than he has in weeks. He’s still pissed that Dean’s been pulling his warped justifications out at every turn. Like Purgatory trumps everything; trumps killing Amy and any sacrifice Sam has ever made for Dean. Like Dean may be a fuck up, but Sam’s a failure and a traitor and a coward.
Like Sam is no brother of Dean’s.
But by the end of the day, they’ve got a lead on the specter and Garth can be pretty funny when you pay attention.
Sam thinks things might be looking up.
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Dean gets possessed.
Sam’s a handful of punches in before Dean uses some move he learned in Purgatory to knock Sam off and onto the floor.
‘This is it,’ Sam thinks. He lets his body relax during Dean’s tirade.
He’s just so fucking tired.
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Garth turns out to be one Zen motherfucker. He could work as a negotiator for the FBI if he wanted to. Sam would definitely give him a reference.
But out of Sam’s exhaustion, somewhere, came rage. It was a short burst, but it was enough to get Dean to back off.
Sam knows he was bluffing when he said he’d leave for good if Dean didn’t give it up. Deep down he’s afraid Dean will replace him with Benny and forget Sam ever existed.
It sort of feels like it’s happening anyway.
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Cas comes back and Dean’s cold exterior cracks for the second time. He won’t spare Sam a glance to ask for the salt, would probably just reach over and take it rather than ask Sam for a pass at all since he's been hell bent on ignoring Sam since Sam's blow up, but the instant Cas appears in the bathroom Dean’s gone gooey eyed.
Or as gooey eyed as Dean can really get.
There’s talk of monsters and Purgatory and how Sam will never understand pain and struggle and blood like they do. Dean’s saved Benny, who’s saved Cas, who’s saved Dean. The human, the angel and the vampire are all blood brothers and Sam is just some guy watching from the outside.
Everything Sam says might as well go unheard. Dean’s in his own world and Cas showing up just reinforces the wall between him and Sam. Anything Sam says rebounds off and falls flat in front of him.
It’s like screaming into an abyss and Sam just gives up after a while.
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They find the prophets.
Dean and Cas have their moment.
Sam helps wrangle terrified men and women in their forties. He gently manhandles a young toddler onto his hip and somehow parses enough in hand gestures to get a confused Italian out of the warehouse. He calls Garth to pick up the Trans. He calls state police to check up on the mass of bodies left in their wake. He dumps demons and cleans Mrs. Tran’s car of evidence.
He finds Kevin’s finger.
Everyone looks at him like this is somehow his fault.
He supposes it probably is.
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Poor Sam. It feels like things are definitely getting worse for him and there's no way out.
Really excited for tomorrow's update.
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