Fic: Our Town
Author: 
tahirire
Wordcount: ~700
Rating: PG
Genre: Gen, future!fic, outsider POV
Spoilers: Up through 7.10
Summary: A ficlet to celebrate Dean's birthday. Happy Birthday, Dean.
This ficlet has nothing to do with birthdays, technically.
Our Town
The town of Sioux Falls South Dakota is relatively small. It doesn’t get a lot of crime, in an average year, and it doesn’t draw outside media attention. It doesn’t get much tourist through traffic. It doesn’t have any major sports teams and it’s barely a blip on the GPS. It has a hardware store, a video rental, a general grocery, a salvage yard and a couple of chain restaurants up by the interstate turn-off. The citizens are mostly quiet folks.
About three years back, something changed. Nobody really talks about it, but we all know what happened. We were here; we saw it with our own eyes. Death walked through our back yard, and you don’t just forget something like that. Things moved on, but we were different. We started noticing if our neighbors had their lights on. We started checking in with each other. We started looking out for each other.
So when Bobby Singer’s house went up in flames, we noticed. And when those boys that used to come and go out of here took off and didn’t come back, well. Maybe we were overstepping, but we had a meeting. Some folks were afraid that whatever ran them out of town would come back for the rest of us, and maybe one day we’ll find out. But most folks agreed we owed them, and not just Singer. Not just those boys, either. All of them.
The Sheriff knew the Winchesters best, so she took the lead. Convincing Dean was the one job nobody else wanted, but somehow she pulled it off. Tom from out past the county line had a bulldozer. Ralph down at the hardware store provided most of the tools. Carrie-Ann drew up the blueprints.
The Winchesters weren’t there for the opening, but the Sheriff mailed them two sets of keys and made sure they knew that it was still their property.
When it was finally done, the Sheriff moved in. It wasn’t that much of a stretch, really. First thing she did was get the hub back up and running again. A call to Sam confirmed the numbers, and Phil from the power company set up the lines. Slowly, somehow, word went out. Before we knew it the Sheriff needed a secretary.
Nobody remembers now who came first. There have been so many faces. Most of the time they come in the middle of the night, out of the darkness with terror on their heels, and leave just as fast after a little first aid and a cup of Jessie’s French onion soup; but sometimes they stay.
It was Sam’s idea to add bunk houses. Most of the time they’re empty, or used for storage, but every now and then we get a family that needs a place to crash a while, and they work just fine. Mothers, fathers, sons and daughters, nieces and nephews, cousins; they never seem to come in whole sets. They tend to be timid and suspicious. They like to keep to themselves, and we let them.
We’ve seen more than our share of bad times, but somehow we always manage to pull through. Paul runs the salvage yard now, and it keeps us pretty well funded. Lately it’s been more quiet than not. The lights up at the main house go out at a decent hour most nights, and most of us are off of call for now. It’s always nice while it lasts.
Tonight I’m taking lasagna over to the Sheriff's old place. Dean will probably be passed out when I get there, but Sam will be waiting for me with a beer laced with holy water and an apology to match. I’ll ask him how long they’re in town for, and he’ll glance up the stairs with that look in his eyes, the hungry restless look, and shrug.
They’ll be gone by morning, but that’s okay too. The next time they need us we’ll be here.
The town of Sioux Falls South Dakota is relatively small. It doesn’t get a lot of crime, in an average year, and it doesn’t draw outside media attention. It doesn’t get much tourist through traffic. It doesn’t have any major sports teams and it’s barely a blip on the GPS, but that’s why hunters call it home.
tahirire
Wordcount: ~700
Rating: PG
Genre: Gen, future!fic, outsider POV
Spoilers: Up through 7.10
Summary: A ficlet to celebrate Dean's birthday. Happy Birthday, Dean.
This ficlet has nothing to do with birthdays, technically.
Our Town
The town of Sioux Falls South Dakota is relatively small. It doesn’t get a lot of crime, in an average year, and it doesn’t draw outside media attention. It doesn’t get much tourist through traffic. It doesn’t have any major sports teams and it’s barely a blip on the GPS. It has a hardware store, a video rental, a general grocery, a salvage yard and a couple of chain restaurants up by the interstate turn-off. The citizens are mostly quiet folks.
About three years back, something changed. Nobody really talks about it, but we all know what happened. We were here; we saw it with our own eyes. Death walked through our back yard, and you don’t just forget something like that. Things moved on, but we were different. We started noticing if our neighbors had their lights on. We started checking in with each other. We started looking out for each other.
So when Bobby Singer’s house went up in flames, we noticed. And when those boys that used to come and go out of here took off and didn’t come back, well. Maybe we were overstepping, but we had a meeting. Some folks were afraid that whatever ran them out of town would come back for the rest of us, and maybe one day we’ll find out. But most folks agreed we owed them, and not just Singer. Not just those boys, either. All of them.
The Sheriff knew the Winchesters best, so she took the lead. Convincing Dean was the one job nobody else wanted, but somehow she pulled it off. Tom from out past the county line had a bulldozer. Ralph down at the hardware store provided most of the tools. Carrie-Ann drew up the blueprints.
The Winchesters weren’t there for the opening, but the Sheriff mailed them two sets of keys and made sure they knew that it was still their property.
When it was finally done, the Sheriff moved in. It wasn’t that much of a stretch, really. First thing she did was get the hub back up and running again. A call to Sam confirmed the numbers, and Phil from the power company set up the lines. Slowly, somehow, word went out. Before we knew it the Sheriff needed a secretary.
Nobody remembers now who came first. There have been so many faces. Most of the time they come in the middle of the night, out of the darkness with terror on their heels, and leave just as fast after a little first aid and a cup of Jessie’s French onion soup; but sometimes they stay.
It was Sam’s idea to add bunk houses. Most of the time they’re empty, or used for storage, but every now and then we get a family that needs a place to crash a while, and they work just fine. Mothers, fathers, sons and daughters, nieces and nephews, cousins; they never seem to come in whole sets. They tend to be timid and suspicious. They like to keep to themselves, and we let them.
We’ve seen more than our share of bad times, but somehow we always manage to pull through. Paul runs the salvage yard now, and it keeps us pretty well funded. Lately it’s been more quiet than not. The lights up at the main house go out at a decent hour most nights, and most of us are off of call for now. It’s always nice while it lasts.
Tonight I’m taking lasagna over to the Sheriff's old place. Dean will probably be passed out when I get there, but Sam will be waiting for me with a beer laced with holy water and an apology to match. I’ll ask him how long they’re in town for, and he’ll glance up the stairs with that look in his eyes, the hungry restless look, and shrug.
They’ll be gone by morning, but that’s okay too. The next time they need us we’ll be here.
The town of Sioux Falls South Dakota is relatively small. It doesn’t get a lot of crime, in an average year, and it doesn’t draw outside media attention. It doesn’t get much tourist through traffic. It doesn’t have any major sports teams and it’s barely a blip on the GPS, but that’s why hunters call it home.