Fic: Gratuitous Abuse of Loopholes (1/1 Supernatural)
Title: Gratuitous Abuse of Loopholes
Author: thefrogg
Beta:
hawk_dancing
Rating: FR13, can be read as pre-slash or gen
Summary: Sam figures it out.
Spoilers: 3x12 In Jus Bello
Deal -76 days
"Ruby."
The demon pauses in the doorway, hand on the frame, and turns just enough to look back at Sam with one solid black eye.
"Question for you," Sam says roughly, defeat and hope warring.
Ruby straightens, shaking herself. "Okay."
"Shut the door?"
A bark of laughter escapes before the door shuts, and Ruby leans back against it, arms crossed over her breasts.
"Is there a deadline?"
"For?" And she raises one elegant eyebrow.
"Dean. Is there some designated time period? I mean, if his soul can't be collected within a certain timeframe..."
"Does it expire you mean?"
"Yeah."
"You know, I never thought about that before."
Sam takes in a ragged breath. "Can you find out."
Ruby looks wary, then approaches, hips swaying, and stares up and up into his eyes, studying him. "I suppose I could," she says.
~~~
Deal -74 days
"You're sure about this."
"Sammy, Sammy, Sammy. You don't trust me? I'm hurt."
Sam lets the Sammy pass; this is for Dean. "I'm betting my brother's soul on this."
"I know." Ruby sounds coy, amused.
As if Sam has suddenly asked the right questions. Sam's breath rattles in his throat. "Twenty-four hours, right? They don't get him before twenty-four hours, and --"
"And he's free. Apparently a few people tried waiting it out, but nobody's ever managed it."
"Nobody's ever done what I'm planning, either."
"So," Ruby says, rubbing up against him and walking her fingers up his chest. "What are you planning?"
Sam smirks, gently catching her hand in one of his and removing it from his person. "You'll have to wait and see."
"Party pooper."
~~~
Deal -4 days
"Where the hell are we going, Sammy?"
"You'll understand when we get there." Sam shoves the cooler in the back seat, then turns to transfer more grocery bags from the cart to the Impala.
"Sammy. You can't save me from this, and we only have a few days--"
"I figured it out a couple of months ago. I talked to Ruby. It'll work. We just have to get there, which means you have to help me and follow along." He pauses, resting both arms on the roof to stare across at his brother. "Trust me?"
Dean grinds his teeth, swallows against threatening tears. "Yeah, Sammy. I trust you. I just don't want to waste--"
"It won't be."
Dean shakes himself out of his melancholy. "Well then, let's get a move on."
~~~
Deal -2 days
"Holy shit."
Sam can't hold back his laughter as Dean realizes where they're going. "Now do you understand?"
"Yeah, Sammy, but this is like--"
"A great big screw you to the bastards downstairs?" Dean tosses him a look of pride and love and awe. And fear. "Sammy, we can't live out here forever. And I'm not staying here and making you do supply runs for me, either--"
"Nope, don't have to. Seventy-two hours and you're a free man. Ruby didn't tell me when the countdown started, so I'm hedging my bets. But we're stocked up, and even they can't get past all this."
"Ruby told me there wasn't a way out of it."
"There isn't one. Unless you can survive those twenty-four hours. I asked the right questions, believe me. They can't cross this land."
Dean pulls over, sweating, breath coming in harsh gasps as he starts to panic. All his hopes pinned on-- "Demons lie."
"I had her spelled. I checked with Missouri. It's rock solid - and so's the salt." Sam turns in his seat, gripping one of Dean's wrists in one massive hand. "Ruby told me she could help me save you. She never said she could do it herself. She's helped us. She hasn't done anything to hurt us, not really."
"It's Ruby, damnit, Sammy, she wanted to kill--"
"Herself and Nancy to help us save everyone else, and we were blindsided, yes, I remember. She's come through for us every time we needed her. She volunteered this information, but it was my idea, Dean. She was waiting for me to start asking the right questions. And do you really think the Hellhounds can get past seven miles of salt?"
"For me, they'd find a way," Dean chokes out.
"Then we both go down fighting."
"Sammy..."
"No, Dean," Sam says gently. "I'm not leaving you, and I'm not just standing back and letting them take you." Sam glances up, out at the highway before them. "But it'll be a moot point if we don't get there. You want me to drive?"
Dean shudders, forces it down, pries his fingers from the steering wheel. They're shaking. "Nah, I got it," he mutters, fumbling with the keys before pulling back onto asphalt, dust kicking up behind them.
~~~
The land glows in the moonlight, gusts of wind kicking up clouds of salt like aimless ghosts. Mountains float off in the distance, dark peaks capped with snow to loom over the Bonneville Salt Flats.
Sam and Dean make the only noise, breath loud in the heavy silence, salt crystals shattering beneath every footstep.
"So. Twenty-four hours."
"Yep."
"And we'll be here for how long?"
"Seventy-two - twenty four on either side, and twelve more just for insurance." Sam sounds pleased with himself.
"You know we're both going to be absolutely stir crazy."
Sam smiles. "Small sacrifice. Actually, no. It's no sacrifice at all."
Dean ducks his head, unable to meet Sam's gaze, and feeds another twig to the tiny fire. At least now he understands why they'd brought firewood with them.
~~~
Deal -24 hours
The next day is spent in near-silent camaraderie, neither wanting to risk an argument on what might be Dean's last day on Earth.
Still, they know each other too well, body language standing in for speech. Physical contact is a given, almost a necessity now. Shoulders rubbing, hips and thighs touching as they sit on the hood of the Impala. Fingers brush as Sam hands Dean a beer from the cooler. Dean uncharacteristically rests his forehead on the back of Sam's shoulder. Silent I-love-you, I-trust-you, don't-leave-me's under a watery sun.
Hope and dread and not-long-enough, never-enough-time hovers between them, glazing over a nebulous possibility that neither give voice to, that will remain buried in this salt-crusted space, unless hope wins the day.
The future wavers in the distance now, salt clouds warping their view.
~~~
The howling starts late that night, almost inaudible. Still, they can hear the frustration, the fury; it's not just Hellhounds. There's a demon, maybe more with them.
Salt or not, they stand back to back, armed to the teeth, wards and holy water at the ready, guns loaded and in hand, with more spread over the Impala.
Sam glances at his watch, noting the time. Sweat drips onto the quartz facing, and he shakes his hair out of his eyes.
The howling continues.
~~~
Dawn breaks, silencing the distant cacophony for a time before it starts up again.
"Dean."
"Yeah?" His voice is shaky with fear and exhaustion; adrenaline only holds out so long.
"Eat something."
"I'm, I--"
"They can't cross the salt. If they could, they would have already." Sam scans the horizon anyways, turning three hundred sixty degrees. The edge of the Flats isn't visible; neither are the Hounds. "Eat. I'll keep watch."
"Okay." Dean reluctantly sets his gun down, glancing furtively between the food supplies, Sam, and the distant mountains.
The rest of the day passes that way, the brothers taking shifts, one watching while the other eats, or catnaps, sleep fitful and broken.
The howling continues.
~~~
Sam checks his watch in the moonlight; only an hour left to go. He leans back against Dean, standing behind him, watching his back.
The hounds have gotten louder, but only with reinforcements.
They've learned to count the voices, to tell the difference. There are demons out there now, for certain, at least two, screaming curses and hatred.
Once, though, they think they hear Ruby's delighted laughter, and have to squelch the urge to go to her, to thank her for the answer.
~~~
Silence falls long before the brothers notice. Pink edges the horizon with the first faint glimmerings of dawn before the adrenaline fades enough.
"Dean."
Dean jerks upright. "Huh?"
"Listen." Sam can feel Dean cocking his head, concentrating.
"I don't hear anything."
Sam doesn't answer.
"I don't hear anything," Dean says again, slower, realization threatening to swallow him.
"Neither do I." Sam smiles and turns, putting the safety back on his gun and shoving it in the back of his jeans. "Dean?"
Dean's shaking now, shaking hard enough that Sam takes his gun before it can go off accidentally, reaching over to set it on the Impala's roof.
"Dean, it's okay."
"You--I--" Dean licks his lips and doesn't struggle when Sam pulls him into a hug, smashing his nose against his chest. Sam stinks of salt and fear and sweat, and Dean thinks it's the most wonderful smell in the world. "You saved me," he mumbles, tasting cotton and grease against his tongue.
Sam tips his head back and laughs, nearly unbalancing them both. Dean jams a thigh between Sam's, sinking his thumbs beneath the waistband of Sam's jeans to keep them upright.
Sam's smile is blinding. "Don't say I never did anything for you."
"Never. Nevernevernever." Dean can't get enough of Sam, holding tight, rubbing his face against Sam's shoulder, dampening the already-grimy shirt with tears of relief. "God damn, Sammy. You, you said, and you did, and I didn't think--"
"Shhh, it's okay," Sam whispers, glee bubbling just below the surface, hands roaming over Dean's too too solid form, clinging just as tight. "We did it. You're safe."
Dean manages to look up then, wedging himself against as much of Sam's body as he can to compensate for the loss. Sam's face is blurred by tears, his own, and Sam's. "Don't ever let me do that again, you hear me? Don't, don't EVER!" His hands fist in Sam's shirt and he shakes him weakly, exhausted and hungry and stricken.
Sam smiles sadly, reaching up to bracket Dean's head with both hands and press their foreheads together, Dean's arms trapped between them. "I won't, Dean, I promise, I won't." He doesn't say anything else, just stands there, leaning, sharing breath and feeling Dean's heart beating too fast, too hard beneath thin skin slick with sweat, grainy with salt-dust.
The sun is climbing in the sky, tiny and white, before they break, stumbling over to the scanty shade cast by the car for water and sleep. Still, they can't stand to not be touching, and Dean curls into Sam's side as he downs a bottle of water and starts on a second.
~~~
They pack up the Impala and drive out of the Flats just before sundown the next day, the salt reflecting crimson and purple and gold as they reach the edge.
Ruby is waiting for them.
Dean parks the car, wiping his face with his hands before turning off the engine. Sam nudges his shoulder reassuringly before climbing out.
Ruby doesn't spare Sam a glance, instead waiting for Dean.
Sam doesn't bother waiting, just rounds the hood, holding out a hand for Dean and grateful when Dean takes it, squeezing almost too-tight. Sam hides the flinch, knowing it's futile but unable to help himself as Dean climbs out, reluctance and the edge of fear in every move.
"So, Dean," Ruby says, one hand on her hip. Her eyes gleam black with pride. "What's it like to be a free man?"
Next: Hell in a Handbasket
Author: thefrogg
Beta:
hawk_dancing
Rating: FR13, can be read as pre-slash or gen
Summary: Sam figures it out.
Spoilers: 3x12 In Jus Bello
Deal -76 days
"Ruby."
The demon pauses in the doorway, hand on the frame, and turns just enough to look back at Sam with one solid black eye.
"Question for you," Sam says roughly, defeat and hope warring.
Ruby straightens, shaking herself. "Okay."
"Shut the door?"
A bark of laughter escapes before the door shuts, and Ruby leans back against it, arms crossed over her breasts.
"Is there a deadline?"
"For?" And she raises one elegant eyebrow.
"Dean. Is there some designated time period? I mean, if his soul can't be collected within a certain timeframe..."
"Does it expire you mean?"
"Yeah."
"You know, I never thought about that before."
Sam takes in a ragged breath. "Can you find out."
Ruby looks wary, then approaches, hips swaying, and stares up and up into his eyes, studying him. "I suppose I could," she says.
~~~
Deal -74 days
"You're sure about this."
"Sammy, Sammy, Sammy. You don't trust me? I'm hurt."
Sam lets the Sammy pass; this is for Dean. "I'm betting my brother's soul on this."
"I know." Ruby sounds coy, amused.
As if Sam has suddenly asked the right questions. Sam's breath rattles in his throat. "Twenty-four hours, right? They don't get him before twenty-four hours, and --"
"And he's free. Apparently a few people tried waiting it out, but nobody's ever managed it."
"Nobody's ever done what I'm planning, either."
"So," Ruby says, rubbing up against him and walking her fingers up his chest. "What are you planning?"
Sam smirks, gently catching her hand in one of his and removing it from his person. "You'll have to wait and see."
"Party pooper."
~~~
Deal -4 days
"Where the hell are we going, Sammy?"
"You'll understand when we get there." Sam shoves the cooler in the back seat, then turns to transfer more grocery bags from the cart to the Impala.
"Sammy. You can't save me from this, and we only have a few days--"
"I figured it out a couple of months ago. I talked to Ruby. It'll work. We just have to get there, which means you have to help me and follow along." He pauses, resting both arms on the roof to stare across at his brother. "Trust me?"
Dean grinds his teeth, swallows against threatening tears. "Yeah, Sammy. I trust you. I just don't want to waste--"
"It won't be."
Dean shakes himself out of his melancholy. "Well then, let's get a move on."
~~~
Deal -2 days
"Holy shit."
Sam can't hold back his laughter as Dean realizes where they're going. "Now do you understand?"
"Yeah, Sammy, but this is like--"
"A great big screw you to the bastards downstairs?" Dean tosses him a look of pride and love and awe. And fear. "Sammy, we can't live out here forever. And I'm not staying here and making you do supply runs for me, either--"
"Nope, don't have to. Seventy-two hours and you're a free man. Ruby didn't tell me when the countdown started, so I'm hedging my bets. But we're stocked up, and even they can't get past all this."
"Ruby told me there wasn't a way out of it."
"There isn't one. Unless you can survive those twenty-four hours. I asked the right questions, believe me. They can't cross this land."
Dean pulls over, sweating, breath coming in harsh gasps as he starts to panic. All his hopes pinned on-- "Demons lie."
"I had her spelled. I checked with Missouri. It's rock solid - and so's the salt." Sam turns in his seat, gripping one of Dean's wrists in one massive hand. "Ruby told me she could help me save you. She never said she could do it herself. She's helped us. She hasn't done anything to hurt us, not really."
"It's Ruby, damnit, Sammy, she wanted to kill--"
"Herself and Nancy to help us save everyone else, and we were blindsided, yes, I remember. She's come through for us every time we needed her. She volunteered this information, but it was my idea, Dean. She was waiting for me to start asking the right questions. And do you really think the Hellhounds can get past seven miles of salt?"
"For me, they'd find a way," Dean chokes out.
"Then we both go down fighting."
"Sammy..."
"No, Dean," Sam says gently. "I'm not leaving you, and I'm not just standing back and letting them take you." Sam glances up, out at the highway before them. "But it'll be a moot point if we don't get there. You want me to drive?"
Dean shudders, forces it down, pries his fingers from the steering wheel. They're shaking. "Nah, I got it," he mutters, fumbling with the keys before pulling back onto asphalt, dust kicking up behind them.
~~~
The land glows in the moonlight, gusts of wind kicking up clouds of salt like aimless ghosts. Mountains float off in the distance, dark peaks capped with snow to loom over the Bonneville Salt Flats.
Sam and Dean make the only noise, breath loud in the heavy silence, salt crystals shattering beneath every footstep.
"So. Twenty-four hours."
"Yep."
"And we'll be here for how long?"
"Seventy-two - twenty four on either side, and twelve more just for insurance." Sam sounds pleased with himself.
"You know we're both going to be absolutely stir crazy."
Sam smiles. "Small sacrifice. Actually, no. It's no sacrifice at all."
Dean ducks his head, unable to meet Sam's gaze, and feeds another twig to the tiny fire. At least now he understands why they'd brought firewood with them.
~~~
Deal -24 hours
The next day is spent in near-silent camaraderie, neither wanting to risk an argument on what might be Dean's last day on Earth.
Still, they know each other too well, body language standing in for speech. Physical contact is a given, almost a necessity now. Shoulders rubbing, hips and thighs touching as they sit on the hood of the Impala. Fingers brush as Sam hands Dean a beer from the cooler. Dean uncharacteristically rests his forehead on the back of Sam's shoulder. Silent I-love-you, I-trust-you, don't-leave-me's under a watery sun.
Hope and dread and not-long-enough, never-enough-time hovers between them, glazing over a nebulous possibility that neither give voice to, that will remain buried in this salt-crusted space, unless hope wins the day.
The future wavers in the distance now, salt clouds warping their view.
~~~
The howling starts late that night, almost inaudible. Still, they can hear the frustration, the fury; it's not just Hellhounds. There's a demon, maybe more with them.
Salt or not, they stand back to back, armed to the teeth, wards and holy water at the ready, guns loaded and in hand, with more spread over the Impala.
Sam glances at his watch, noting the time. Sweat drips onto the quartz facing, and he shakes his hair out of his eyes.
The howling continues.
~~~
Dawn breaks, silencing the distant cacophony for a time before it starts up again.
"Dean."
"Yeah?" His voice is shaky with fear and exhaustion; adrenaline only holds out so long.
"Eat something."
"I'm, I--"
"They can't cross the salt. If they could, they would have already." Sam scans the horizon anyways, turning three hundred sixty degrees. The edge of the Flats isn't visible; neither are the Hounds. "Eat. I'll keep watch."
"Okay." Dean reluctantly sets his gun down, glancing furtively between the food supplies, Sam, and the distant mountains.
The rest of the day passes that way, the brothers taking shifts, one watching while the other eats, or catnaps, sleep fitful and broken.
The howling continues.
~~~
Sam checks his watch in the moonlight; only an hour left to go. He leans back against Dean, standing behind him, watching his back.
The hounds have gotten louder, but only with reinforcements.
They've learned to count the voices, to tell the difference. There are demons out there now, for certain, at least two, screaming curses and hatred.
Once, though, they think they hear Ruby's delighted laughter, and have to squelch the urge to go to her, to thank her for the answer.
~~~
Silence falls long before the brothers notice. Pink edges the horizon with the first faint glimmerings of dawn before the adrenaline fades enough.
"Dean."
Dean jerks upright. "Huh?"
"Listen." Sam can feel Dean cocking his head, concentrating.
"I don't hear anything."
Sam doesn't answer.
"I don't hear anything," Dean says again, slower, realization threatening to swallow him.
"Neither do I." Sam smiles and turns, putting the safety back on his gun and shoving it in the back of his jeans. "Dean?"
Dean's shaking now, shaking hard enough that Sam takes his gun before it can go off accidentally, reaching over to set it on the Impala's roof.
"Dean, it's okay."
"You--I--" Dean licks his lips and doesn't struggle when Sam pulls him into a hug, smashing his nose against his chest. Sam stinks of salt and fear and sweat, and Dean thinks it's the most wonderful smell in the world. "You saved me," he mumbles, tasting cotton and grease against his tongue.
Sam tips his head back and laughs, nearly unbalancing them both. Dean jams a thigh between Sam's, sinking his thumbs beneath the waistband of Sam's jeans to keep them upright.
Sam's smile is blinding. "Don't say I never did anything for you."
"Never. Nevernevernever." Dean can't get enough of Sam, holding tight, rubbing his face against Sam's shoulder, dampening the already-grimy shirt with tears of relief. "God damn, Sammy. You, you said, and you did, and I didn't think--"
"Shhh, it's okay," Sam whispers, glee bubbling just below the surface, hands roaming over Dean's too too solid form, clinging just as tight. "We did it. You're safe."
Dean manages to look up then, wedging himself against as much of Sam's body as he can to compensate for the loss. Sam's face is blurred by tears, his own, and Sam's. "Don't ever let me do that again, you hear me? Don't, don't EVER!" His hands fist in Sam's shirt and he shakes him weakly, exhausted and hungry and stricken.
Sam smiles sadly, reaching up to bracket Dean's head with both hands and press their foreheads together, Dean's arms trapped between them. "I won't, Dean, I promise, I won't." He doesn't say anything else, just stands there, leaning, sharing breath and feeling Dean's heart beating too fast, too hard beneath thin skin slick with sweat, grainy with salt-dust.
The sun is climbing in the sky, tiny and white, before they break, stumbling over to the scanty shade cast by the car for water and sleep. Still, they can't stand to not be touching, and Dean curls into Sam's side as he downs a bottle of water and starts on a second.
~~~
They pack up the Impala and drive out of the Flats just before sundown the next day, the salt reflecting crimson and purple and gold as they reach the edge.
Ruby is waiting for them.
Dean parks the car, wiping his face with his hands before turning off the engine. Sam nudges his shoulder reassuringly before climbing out.
Ruby doesn't spare Sam a glance, instead waiting for Dean.
Sam doesn't bother waiting, just rounds the hood, holding out a hand for Dean and grateful when Dean takes it, squeezing almost too-tight. Sam hides the flinch, knowing it's futile but unable to help himself as Dean climbs out, reluctance and the edge of fear in every move.
"So, Dean," Ruby says, one hand on her hip. Her eyes gleam black with pride. "What's it like to be a free man?"
Next: Hell in a Handbasket