Croatoan Part 9/?
Dislaimer: Supernatural and its characters belong to Eric Kripke and the CW. The books metntioned in this chapter belong to Stephen King. I OWN NOTHING!
Spoilers: None, completley au.
Ratings: Overall PG-13
Warnings: none... nightmares?
Parts: One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six, Seven, Eight,
When Dean opened the door, Alice was still where he had left her. In fact, she was still in the exact same position. Fifteen minutes of silence later, she was still sitting on the couch, and she showed no intention of moving, eyes blankly staring at a random spot on the carpet between her feet. When Dean tried to talk to her, she just blinked her eyes, and sighed. When he realized that he wasn’t going to get anywhere with her tonight, he picked Alice up in his arms and she curled in against his chest. He walked over to his room and stopped in the hallway in front of the two doors. He figured she wouldn’t want to sleep in the same room he had just shot her last line of family in, so he turned around and pushed into his room, setting Alice gently on his bed. He sat on the edge of the bed and radioed Chuck. He still had twenty minutes of electricity, and he spent that time explaining to Chuck that he would be a while in going up to Camp Chitaqua. When Chuck asked questions, Dean answered them, telling him in detail about the Croat swarm. When Chuck said he understood if Dean wanted to take some time to stay with the kid, Dean mentally sighed, an incredible weight being lifted off his shoulders. He thanked Chuck and put the intercom back down with five minutes of electricity left. He left Alice in his bed and walked to the front room to finish ‘The Mist’.
It was around twelve thirty before Dean put his book down. He had finished ‘The Mist’ and had already started on ‘The Monkey’ before his first yawn broke through his lips, and at that point, he shut his book and stood off the couch, grabbing the gas lantern he was using as a reading light to illuminate his way down the dark hall. He had forgotten that Alice was in his room, and when he pushed the door open, his heart skipped a beat at the small form lying on his bed before he remembered that he had left her there. He drew in a deep breath and let it out shakily before closing the door and going back to the couch, where he sat and read again until he fell asleep.
In the morning he woke with a headache and neck pain, a combination that could kill if, of course, he wasn’t Dean Winchester. He stood and stretched and went to peek through his door. When he looked through, he called out to Alice, and when there was no response, he began to panic. Both his and Alice’s rooms were empty, and Dean went through the house three times before he noticed the note on the door. It read:
Dean,
It’s Monday, and I have school, so don’t freak out. I’ll be back at around three. I didn’t want to wake you up from your nap on the couch because it seemed like you could use the rest. Be back soon,
-Alice
Dean slumped onto the couch with the note in his hand and let out a sigh. He never worried about anybody this much, so getting his heart rate back to normal was a foreign feeling again. He dragged his hands through his hair and looked at the watch around his wrist. With three hours to kill until Alice got back, Dean thought he might go on his own supply run. He grabbed Alice’s keys and jogged to his car.
Dean drove around to some of the stores he knew belonged to Alice and went to rummage. He brought back a few things; Milk, (which was now only found powdered), three boxes of cereal, saltine crackers, canned beans and corn, and a box of macaroni. The apocalypse brought forth a number of strange things, one of them being wild animals running through what used to be city streets, and Dean shoots a rogue deer on the way back.
Once he gets home, Dean begins to strip the deer on the back porch, skinning it first, and then removing all of the inedible bits. He breaks off its antlers and intends on making small hand knives out of them. He’s sure he’ll find a use for the bones, hooves, and teeth later. He rummages around the kitchen, knowing he’ll eventually find a buck knife somewhere, and when he does, he makes fast work of turning three pikes of the antlers into handled knives, sharp enough to cut into his hand when he accidently drops one. After he’s wrapped his hand he continues with the antlers, making fast work of turning them into knives, the longer parts he turns into a small hand spear.
He takes a step back to look at his work when the door opens. From instinct, Dean grabs the buck knife off the table and flings it at the sound, hitting the door that was blocking the intruder. A surprised squawk came from the other side of the door, and Dean immediately recognized it as Alice.
“Holy Hell,” she breathed from the other side of the door. Dean cringed in apology when her head peeked around the wood
of the door.
“Sorry,” he apologized, “force of habit.” Alice rolled her eyes and closed the door, pulling the knife from the wood after she bolted the door.
“You know,” she said, twirling the knife in her hand, “if you wanted to kill me, a more efficient way would to have been hiding behind the door, waiting my entrance.” She stabbed the knife into the wood of the kitchen counter and smirked at Dean.
“Har-hardy-har, not funny kid,” he snarled. “I brought home dinner for the next… month.” He gestured to the half skinned deer resting on the kitchen table. Alice made a face at the carcass and Dean shrugged.
“Dude,” she sniped, “that is sooo not sanitary.”
“Suit yourself, at least it’s fresh,” he said. He turned back to the animal and continued with stripping the meat down.
After about an hour, Dean had finally got the deer down to a skeleton, the rest of the animal’s meat hanging to dry from the balcony. He and Alice worked on cutting it up and stashing it in the fridge and freezer. They leave a few cuts out for dinner that night, and Dean grills it perfectly, leaving the insides bloody, but letting the outside crisp just right.
After dinner, Alice returned to her normal spot on the couch, finishing off ‘Salem’s Lot’, slamming the book shut. Dean looked up from where he sat and studied Alice, who was staring at the wall like it held the secrets to the universe.
“Um, Alice?” Dean called out.
She shook herself out of her haze. “Hmm?”
“You’re staring at the wall, it’s kind of freaking me out,” Dean said. Alice lightly chuckled, and put the book on the floor next to the couch.
“I just,” she paused, tapping her fingers on her thing, “like to contemplate the book, really think if liked it or not.” Dean nodded.
“So,” he shut his book, “I talked to Chuck, let him know I’d be staying a while- if that’s okay with you.” Alice looked up from her lap.
“Yeah, yeah of course. Stay.” She looked at him and smiled. Dean returned the look.
“Good,” he stood to go to his room but stopped in the mouth of the hallway. “Oh, and tomorrow I’m waking up and seeing you off to school.” Alice made a face at Dean.
“Dean,” she said, “I’ve been walking myself to school since before the Croats, I think I’ll be fine.”
“No, it’s not a question, I’m walking you, gonna make sure you’re okay.”
“Dean-“
“End of discussion!” Dean snapped. Alice heard the seriousness in the tone of his voice and let the subject drop.
“Fine,” she mumbled. Dean nodded and walked to his room.
“Get some sleep, school tomorrow,” he called over his shoulder. Alice rolled her eyes, but still stood and carried the lantern to her room to get ready for bed.
Dean thought the night had ended on a swift enough note, and went to bed rather satisfied with himself and the fact that he was able to pull Alice from her fog. It was about three o’clock, however, when he was pulled from his dreamscape by screams reverberating off the house’s walls.
Dean snapped up into a sitting position, snatched his pistol from its resting place on his dresser, and untangled himself from his blankets as quick as he could. It only took him a moment to register the fact that the screams were coming from Alice’s room, and when he burst through the door, his heart skipped a beat.
Alice was writing around in her sleep, her covers tangled in her legs, her face scrunched up in a fit of pain. She mumbled something in dreamland nonsense, and every now-and-then, a full word would break through, usually screams of Jeremy or Alex, and sometimes, just plain screams.
Dean froze for a moment before throwing his handgun on one of the unoccupied beds and rushing towards Alice, gripping her shoulders and shaking her from her sleep. She clenched her hands into fists and beat against his chest in the moments between consciousness before she finally awoke, looking at Dean with doe eyes before hanging her head and letting her tears run freely down her face.
“Hey, hey, hey, it’s okay, I’ve got you.” Dean pulled Alice in and cradled Alice’s head close to his chest and ran his hand over her hair. He could feel her tiny shoulders tremble and jerk with every sob, and he let his chin rest on top of her head. Alice sat with her head against Dean’s chest; her only movement was her hand coming up to grip and Dean’s forearms, still wrapped around her shoulders.
Dean sat at the edge of Alice’s bed for fifteen minutes before she was finally able to calm down, her sobs turning to hiccups before a sniffle settled in. When he felt her on let go of his forearms, Dean pulled back to look at Alice’s face. She still let her head hang, but the little light from the moon that shone through the curtains illuminated the tear streaks down the sides of her face. Dean placed his hands on the sides of her cheeks and swiped his thumbs lightly across her face, drying her tears.
“What happened?” he whispered. Alice didn’t look up; she just violently shook her head. “Alice, look at me.” She looked up through her eyelashes. “What’s wrong?” Alice dragged the back of her hand across her face and drew in a deep breath.
“It was just a- a nightmare. About Jeremy and Alex,” she admitted. She lowered her head.
“Hey, it’s okay. Just try to go back to sleep,” Dean said. Alice looked back up at Dean and shook her head.
“No, no, don’t leave me alone, please,” she begged. Her eyes had begun to water again. Dean looked at her and nodded.
“Okay… okay I’ll be right here,” Dean watched Alice nod he head. She lied back down and turned to face the wall. Dean sat on the edge of her bed until her breath evened out, and when she was asleep, he moved himself to Jeremy’s bed, falling into a light enough sleep so that he could wake up at a moments notice.
Spoilers: None, completley au.
Ratings: Overall PG-13
Warnings: none... nightmares?
Parts: One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six, Seven, Eight,
When Dean opened the door, Alice was still where he had left her. In fact, she was still in the exact same position. Fifteen minutes of silence later, she was still sitting on the couch, and she showed no intention of moving, eyes blankly staring at a random spot on the carpet between her feet. When Dean tried to talk to her, she just blinked her eyes, and sighed. When he realized that he wasn’t going to get anywhere with her tonight, he picked Alice up in his arms and she curled in against his chest. He walked over to his room and stopped in the hallway in front of the two doors. He figured she wouldn’t want to sleep in the same room he had just shot her last line of family in, so he turned around and pushed into his room, setting Alice gently on his bed. He sat on the edge of the bed and radioed Chuck. He still had twenty minutes of electricity, and he spent that time explaining to Chuck that he would be a while in going up to Camp Chitaqua. When Chuck asked questions, Dean answered them, telling him in detail about the Croat swarm. When Chuck said he understood if Dean wanted to take some time to stay with the kid, Dean mentally sighed, an incredible weight being lifted off his shoulders. He thanked Chuck and put the intercom back down with five minutes of electricity left. He left Alice in his bed and walked to the front room to finish ‘The Mist’.
It was around twelve thirty before Dean put his book down. He had finished ‘The Mist’ and had already started on ‘The Monkey’ before his first yawn broke through his lips, and at that point, he shut his book and stood off the couch, grabbing the gas lantern he was using as a reading light to illuminate his way down the dark hall. He had forgotten that Alice was in his room, and when he pushed the door open, his heart skipped a beat at the small form lying on his bed before he remembered that he had left her there. He drew in a deep breath and let it out shakily before closing the door and going back to the couch, where he sat and read again until he fell asleep.
In the morning he woke with a headache and neck pain, a combination that could kill if, of course, he wasn’t Dean Winchester. He stood and stretched and went to peek through his door. When he looked through, he called out to Alice, and when there was no response, he began to panic. Both his and Alice’s rooms were empty, and Dean went through the house three times before he noticed the note on the door. It read:
Dean,
It’s Monday, and I have school, so don’t freak out. I’ll be back at around three. I didn’t want to wake you up from your nap on the couch because it seemed like you could use the rest. Be back soon,
-Alice
Dean slumped onto the couch with the note in his hand and let out a sigh. He never worried about anybody this much, so getting his heart rate back to normal was a foreign feeling again. He dragged his hands through his hair and looked at the watch around his wrist. With three hours to kill until Alice got back, Dean thought he might go on his own supply run. He grabbed Alice’s keys and jogged to his car.
Dean drove around to some of the stores he knew belonged to Alice and went to rummage. He brought back a few things; Milk, (which was now only found powdered), three boxes of cereal, saltine crackers, canned beans and corn, and a box of macaroni. The apocalypse brought forth a number of strange things, one of them being wild animals running through what used to be city streets, and Dean shoots a rogue deer on the way back.
Once he gets home, Dean begins to strip the deer on the back porch, skinning it first, and then removing all of the inedible bits. He breaks off its antlers and intends on making small hand knives out of them. He’s sure he’ll find a use for the bones, hooves, and teeth later. He rummages around the kitchen, knowing he’ll eventually find a buck knife somewhere, and when he does, he makes fast work of turning three pikes of the antlers into handled knives, sharp enough to cut into his hand when he accidently drops one. After he’s wrapped his hand he continues with the antlers, making fast work of turning them into knives, the longer parts he turns into a small hand spear.
He takes a step back to look at his work when the door opens. From instinct, Dean grabs the buck knife off the table and flings it at the sound, hitting the door that was blocking the intruder. A surprised squawk came from the other side of the door, and Dean immediately recognized it as Alice.
“Holy Hell,” she breathed from the other side of the door. Dean cringed in apology when her head peeked around the wood
of the door.
“Sorry,” he apologized, “force of habit.” Alice rolled her eyes and closed the door, pulling the knife from the wood after she bolted the door.
“You know,” she said, twirling the knife in her hand, “if you wanted to kill me, a more efficient way would to have been hiding behind the door, waiting my entrance.” She stabbed the knife into the wood of the kitchen counter and smirked at Dean.
“Har-hardy-har, not funny kid,” he snarled. “I brought home dinner for the next… month.” He gestured to the half skinned deer resting on the kitchen table. Alice made a face at the carcass and Dean shrugged.
“Dude,” she sniped, “that is sooo not sanitary.”
“Suit yourself, at least it’s fresh,” he said. He turned back to the animal and continued with stripping the meat down.
After about an hour, Dean had finally got the deer down to a skeleton, the rest of the animal’s meat hanging to dry from the balcony. He and Alice worked on cutting it up and stashing it in the fridge and freezer. They leave a few cuts out for dinner that night, and Dean grills it perfectly, leaving the insides bloody, but letting the outside crisp just right.
After dinner, Alice returned to her normal spot on the couch, finishing off ‘Salem’s Lot’, slamming the book shut. Dean looked up from where he sat and studied Alice, who was staring at the wall like it held the secrets to the universe.
“Um, Alice?” Dean called out.
She shook herself out of her haze. “Hmm?”
“You’re staring at the wall, it’s kind of freaking me out,” Dean said. Alice lightly chuckled, and put the book on the floor next to the couch.
“I just,” she paused, tapping her fingers on her thing, “like to contemplate the book, really think if liked it or not.” Dean nodded.
“So,” he shut his book, “I talked to Chuck, let him know I’d be staying a while- if that’s okay with you.” Alice looked up from her lap.
“Yeah, yeah of course. Stay.” She looked at him and smiled. Dean returned the look.
“Good,” he stood to go to his room but stopped in the mouth of the hallway. “Oh, and tomorrow I’m waking up and seeing you off to school.” Alice made a face at Dean.
“Dean,” she said, “I’ve been walking myself to school since before the Croats, I think I’ll be fine.”
“No, it’s not a question, I’m walking you, gonna make sure you’re okay.”
“Dean-“
“End of discussion!” Dean snapped. Alice heard the seriousness in the tone of his voice and let the subject drop.
“Fine,” she mumbled. Dean nodded and walked to his room.
“Get some sleep, school tomorrow,” he called over his shoulder. Alice rolled her eyes, but still stood and carried the lantern to her room to get ready for bed.
Dean thought the night had ended on a swift enough note, and went to bed rather satisfied with himself and the fact that he was able to pull Alice from her fog. It was about three o’clock, however, when he was pulled from his dreamscape by screams reverberating off the house’s walls.
Dean snapped up into a sitting position, snatched his pistol from its resting place on his dresser, and untangled himself from his blankets as quick as he could. It only took him a moment to register the fact that the screams were coming from Alice’s room, and when he burst through the door, his heart skipped a beat.
Alice was writing around in her sleep, her covers tangled in her legs, her face scrunched up in a fit of pain. She mumbled something in dreamland nonsense, and every now-and-then, a full word would break through, usually screams of Jeremy or Alex, and sometimes, just plain screams.
Dean froze for a moment before throwing his handgun on one of the unoccupied beds and rushing towards Alice, gripping her shoulders and shaking her from her sleep. She clenched her hands into fists and beat against his chest in the moments between consciousness before she finally awoke, looking at Dean with doe eyes before hanging her head and letting her tears run freely down her face.
“Hey, hey, hey, it’s okay, I’ve got you.” Dean pulled Alice in and cradled Alice’s head close to his chest and ran his hand over her hair. He could feel her tiny shoulders tremble and jerk with every sob, and he let his chin rest on top of her head. Alice sat with her head against Dean’s chest; her only movement was her hand coming up to grip and Dean’s forearms, still wrapped around her shoulders.
Dean sat at the edge of Alice’s bed for fifteen minutes before she was finally able to calm down, her sobs turning to hiccups before a sniffle settled in. When he felt her on let go of his forearms, Dean pulled back to look at Alice’s face. She still let her head hang, but the little light from the moon that shone through the curtains illuminated the tear streaks down the sides of her face. Dean placed his hands on the sides of her cheeks and swiped his thumbs lightly across her face, drying her tears.
“What happened?” he whispered. Alice didn’t look up; she just violently shook her head. “Alice, look at me.” She looked up through her eyelashes. “What’s wrong?” Alice dragged the back of her hand across her face and drew in a deep breath.
“It was just a- a nightmare. About Jeremy and Alex,” she admitted. She lowered her head.
“Hey, it’s okay. Just try to go back to sleep,” Dean said. Alice looked back up at Dean and shook her head.
“No, no, don’t leave me alone, please,” she begged. Her eyes had begun to water again. Dean looked at her and nodded.
“Okay… okay I’ll be right here,” Dean watched Alice nod he head. She lied back down and turned to face the wall. Dean sat on the edge of her bed until her breath evened out, and when she was asleep, he moved himself to Jeremy’s bed, falling into a light enough sleep so that he could wake up at a moments notice.