Fic: On the Road Again
Title:On the Road Again (As it always was)
Author: tinypinkmouse
Fandom(s): Supernatural/Naruto
Rating: G (for this part), R (overall)
Word Count: ~850 (this part), 22,683 (whole series)
Summary: Everything's back to normal.
Disclaimer: I don't own them, other people do.
Notes: This is the last part of the whole series (finally. yay)
On the Road Again,
As it always was
Sam is driving. He's not really sure why, because Sam driving the car is still kind of a big deal. He gets to drive the Impala nowadays, at least sometimes, but it's rare enough that he can still name each occasion that he's been behind the wheel.
He has no idea where they're going. When he'd woken up Dean had been all set to leave. He'd almost seemed anxious to get going and Sam only offered up a token argument. The only thing Dean had really said to that was to ask Sam if he was good to drive. That wasn't really like Dean at all, but okay, yesterday had been bad in so many ways that Sam didn't say anything about it. Not when his head still felt addled with sleep and the lingering traces of a headache.
Really, Sam didn't mind leaving, he wasn't exactly fond of the town after everything. Besides being offered to drive the car was still a novelty and made his gut clench a bit because he knew that it was Dean's way of saying all the things he'd never put into words. Sam takes what he can get when it comes to Dean. So he'd told Dean that he was fine to drive. After all, all he really had to show from the whole experience was a few bruises.
So Sam drives. There's no destination, no new hunt waiting for them at the end. There's no word of their still missing dad, no place at all they need to go and all they're doing is driving away. But it's not the first time they're doing that, because sometimes you just need to get away. And sooner or later something will come up, until then just going somewhere is good enough.
He looks over at Dean and his brother still looks like he hasn't slept all night. Sam's pretty sure he hasn't and that's a whole lot less okay. Right now Dean is sitting in the all too quiet car and staring out the side window. Sam can't see the expression on his brother's face, but then that's probably the point.
Sam hasn't stopped thinking about yesterday, because he damn well wants to know what the hell all of that was. He'd want to know anyway, but right now he sort of really wants to know because none of it seems to add up to Dean acting like this.
“So, who were the kids?” Sam asks.
Because that's the thing that doesn't fit. The crazy would be demon worshipers that didn't seem to know the first thing about summoning demons, weren't really that far from the Winchester version of normal. Sam being in danger is usual enough and people dying isn't that out of the ordinary either, not really, even if he wishes it was. Maybe Dean is feeling guilty about it, but Sam doesn't think so because Dean would hide that better.
“They didn’t exactly look like hunters.” Sam has never really met all that many hunters. As a kid he’d seen a few others when their dad had some business with them, but he has a good enough idea what hunters are usually like.
Hunters are definitely not blond kids with bright smiles and too much energy. They’re not monochromatic teenagers with dead eyes who move faster than Sam can see.
“No, they were ninjas,” his brother says, sarcasm dripping from the words. “What do you think they were, Sammy?”
Then Dean turns the music on, as loud as he can. After that conversation is pretty much impossible.
***
He stands in the middle of the small clearing in the forest. The sunlight reflecting of the slightly scratched metal of the hitai-ate clutched in his hands blinds him for a moment. Slowly he raises it to his forehead and ties it into place.
After so many years without it, the feel of cloth against his forehead feels strange. Out of place.
He looks up, slow and reluctant. Like the hitai-ate had added too much weight for his movements to be easy.
There's a dark form standing in the shadows at the edge of the clearing.
Their eyes meet, sky blue and dark, dark gray.
It's too far away to bee completely sure, but he thinks an ever so slight smile lurks at the edges of the other's lips. The distance doesn't stop him from seeing when red blooms in those dark eyes. Maybe he was looking for it.
His own eyes close briefly. When he opens them he's alone.
He takes a deep breath, turns around and takes off into the branches and heads towards home. Hopefully he hasn’t been away too long.
A deep, satisfied, blood tinged laugh rumbles inside his mind.
THE END
Some additional author's notes on the whole series here.
Author: tinypinkmouse
Fandom(s): Supernatural/Naruto
Rating: G (for this part), R (overall)
Word Count: ~850 (this part), 22,683 (whole series)
Summary: Everything's back to normal.
Disclaimer: I don't own them, other people do.
Notes: This is the last part of the whole series (finally. yay)
On the Road Again,
As it always was
Sam is driving. He's not really sure why, because Sam driving the car is still kind of a big deal. He gets to drive the Impala nowadays, at least sometimes, but it's rare enough that he can still name each occasion that he's been behind the wheel.
He has no idea where they're going. When he'd woken up Dean had been all set to leave. He'd almost seemed anxious to get going and Sam only offered up a token argument. The only thing Dean had really said to that was to ask Sam if he was good to drive. That wasn't really like Dean at all, but okay, yesterday had been bad in so many ways that Sam didn't say anything about it. Not when his head still felt addled with sleep and the lingering traces of a headache.
Really, Sam didn't mind leaving, he wasn't exactly fond of the town after everything. Besides being offered to drive the car was still a novelty and made his gut clench a bit because he knew that it was Dean's way of saying all the things he'd never put into words. Sam takes what he can get when it comes to Dean. So he'd told Dean that he was fine to drive. After all, all he really had to show from the whole experience was a few bruises.
So Sam drives. There's no destination, no new hunt waiting for them at the end. There's no word of their still missing dad, no place at all they need to go and all they're doing is driving away. But it's not the first time they're doing that, because sometimes you just need to get away. And sooner or later something will come up, until then just going somewhere is good enough.
He looks over at Dean and his brother still looks like he hasn't slept all night. Sam's pretty sure he hasn't and that's a whole lot less okay. Right now Dean is sitting in the all too quiet car and staring out the side window. Sam can't see the expression on his brother's face, but then that's probably the point.
Sam hasn't stopped thinking about yesterday, because he damn well wants to know what the hell all of that was. He'd want to know anyway, but right now he sort of really wants to know because none of it seems to add up to Dean acting like this.
“So, who were the kids?” Sam asks.
Because that's the thing that doesn't fit. The crazy would be demon worshipers that didn't seem to know the first thing about summoning demons, weren't really that far from the Winchester version of normal. Sam being in danger is usual enough and people dying isn't that out of the ordinary either, not really, even if he wishes it was. Maybe Dean is feeling guilty about it, but Sam doesn't think so because Dean would hide that better.
“They didn’t exactly look like hunters.” Sam has never really met all that many hunters. As a kid he’d seen a few others when their dad had some business with them, but he has a good enough idea what hunters are usually like.
Hunters are definitely not blond kids with bright smiles and too much energy. They’re not monochromatic teenagers with dead eyes who move faster than Sam can see.
“No, they were ninjas,” his brother says, sarcasm dripping from the words. “What do you think they were, Sammy?”
Then Dean turns the music on, as loud as he can. After that conversation is pretty much impossible.
***
He stands in the middle of the small clearing in the forest. The sunlight reflecting of the slightly scratched metal of the hitai-ate clutched in his hands blinds him for a moment. Slowly he raises it to his forehead and ties it into place.
After so many years without it, the feel of cloth against his forehead feels strange. Out of place.
He looks up, slow and reluctant. Like the hitai-ate had added too much weight for his movements to be easy.
There's a dark form standing in the shadows at the edge of the clearing.
Their eyes meet, sky blue and dark, dark gray.
It's too far away to bee completely sure, but he thinks an ever so slight smile lurks at the edges of the other's lips. The distance doesn't stop him from seeing when red blooms in those dark eyes. Maybe he was looking for it.
His own eyes close briefly. When he opens them he's alone.
He takes a deep breath, turns around and takes off into the branches and heads towards home. Hopefully he hasn’t been away too long.
A deep, satisfied, blood tinged laugh rumbles inside his mind.
THE END
Some additional author's notes on the whole series here.