Supernatural commentfics
Some Supernatural fics written for comment_fic.
Sandman/Supernatural, Delirium & Dean, would you like some fish in your icecream?
“You’ve got little birds all ‘round you.”
Dean opened his eyes and saw a homeless girl with multicoloured hair peering down at him with a curious expression. He also noticed a distinct lack of birds, little or otherwise, in the area.
“O-kay… and who are you, exactly?”
“Oh, I’m no-one in particular. My sister calls me Del.”
“So, did you see what happened? It was weird, I was walking to the car, then… I dunno, I must have blacked out or something.”
“Sort of. There was a man. He was rotting on the inside. He made you fall down and took your car, and drove off trailing dead air behind him.”
“He…” Dean sat up, and saw that the Impala was clearly missing from its parking space. “And you didn’t try to stop him? Or call for help?”
“He was scary,” she whispered. “If he’d seen me, he would have made me like him.”
She looks at Dean, wide-eyed, and he sees that her eyes are different colours - one blue, one green. Weird, he thought.
The girl - Del - seemed to have got over her encounter, though, as she had moved a few feet away and was looking at some sad-looking weeds at the side of the road. Dean got to his feet. “What’s so interesting over there?”
“Just looking at these plants. They’re pretty.”
‘Pretty’ was not the word Dean would have chosen. Del, meanwhile, looked up at him, and said, “I’m hungry. Do you like icecream? I like icecream. Sometimes, when I’m bored, I make up new flavours. Like electricity, or green mouse, or telephone. That’s not very nice, you know.”
“Er… okay.” He looked around, seeing a diner down the street. “Hey, kid, there’s a diner that way. They’d have icecream if you want some.”
“Really?” She squealed like a little girl. “Oh, that would be supercalifragilistiexpialidocius! Can we go get some Dean? Please?”
“Sure, okay. What was that word you said…”
“Supercalifragilistiexpialidocius?”
“Yeah, that one.”
“My sister took me to a film once. It was in that. There were birds too.”
“Oh.”
“Would you like some fish in your icecream?”
“Er… excuse me?”
Del’s face fell, and her eyes filled with tears. Dean was now feeling increasingly confused. He was saved, so to speak, by a goth girl who appeared from around a corner and said, “Del, what’re you up to now?”
Del sniffed. “I was going to get icecream with Dean. He said ‘excuse me’. I didn’t want to have to excuse him anything…”
The goth girl sighed. “It’s all right, Del, you don’t have to excuse anyone anything.” That didn’t do much good, though, so she settled for putting an arm around her sister’s shoulders. While Del cried, she smiled at Dean. “Hey. Sorry about this. She has bad moments.”
“It’s fine.” He looked at her curiously. “Do I know you?”
She smiled mysteriously. “Oh, probably. I meet a lot of people through my work. Now, if you don’t mind, I need to get Del out of here. See you around, Dean.”
With that, both girls vanished into thin air. A moment later, Sam walked out of the motel, saw the empty parking space, saw his brother standing there looking bemused, and said, “Dude, where’s the car?”
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Criminal Minds/Supernatural, author's choice/author's choice, Hendrickson calls on the BAU for help in tracking down the Winchesters
“So, Agent Hendrickson, why are you looking for these people?”
Hendrickson looked at Hotch as if he couldn’t quite believe what he’d just heard. He opened the file in his hands and started to read, “Fraud, burglary, arson, kidnapping, murder… it might be quicker to ask what they haven’t done.”
“I see,” Hotch took the file and looked through it, “well, we’ll see what we can do.”
***
“These guys are the most disorganised unsubs I’ve ever seen… M.O., location…” Reid studied the file in front of him curiously, “what do we know about their background?”
JJ picked up another file, “Uh, father was John Winchester, ex-Marine, mother was a Mary Campbell… nothing on her record, died November 1983. These guys… Dean Winchester, born 1979, then Sam in 1983… it seems like they were a normal family, at least until their mother died. Doesn’t look like they own a house, or any property, though they do have a car, a… ’67 Impala.”
“They move around a lot.”
“They’d have to, these cases are all over the country…”
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Supernatural, Sam/Dean, everything that happened was just a dream and Sam is sitting in an insane asylum
Sam’s eyes open, and he tries to get up but finds himself strapped down on the bed. He looks around, guessing he’s in a hospital of some kind, and shouts for help, hoping that a nurse or someone will come and release him.
Actually, two nurses show up, accompanying a doctor with a stern expression, who examines Sam and asks him questions - what’s his name, what year is it, who’s the President, simple things. Sam says what he thinks the man wants to hear, and asks a question of his own: “Where’s Dean?”
The doctor and nurses look at each other apprehensively. The doctor sits on the edge of his bed, and smiles kindly. “Now, Sam, you saw Dean only yesterday, remember? He came to visit you. You went for a walk in the grounds, remember?”
“What? No… no, I wasn’t here yesterday. Where’s my brother?”
“Your brother is at home, safe, with his wife, just where he’s supposed to be. They’ll be coming back this afternoon, you can see them then.”
“My brother isn’t married,” Sam says flatly. The doctor’s smile looks a little strained.
“Yes, Sam, he is. Her name is Carmen. Dean got you a day-release pass so you could be at the wedding, do you remember that?”
Sam shakes his head, and wonders what’s happened. The doctor gives him a sedative, ‘to calm him down’, and instructs the nurses to remove the restraints for now.
That afternoon, a nurse returns to Sam’s room, and helps him into a wheelchair, pushing him out to a cheerfully-decorated room, where patients and their families are gathered in small groups. The nurse takes him to a table where Dean is sitting with a pretty Latina woman. Sam guesses that this must be the Carmen he’s never heard of.
He ignores her and looks straight at Dean. “Dean, man, you’ve gotta get me out of here. They think I’m crazy.”
Dean chews his lip nervously. “Uh, Sammy… don’t you… remember?”
“Remember what?”
“Well, it started a few years ago… when you were at Stanford…”
“What started?”
“Uh, Dad went missing. Just disappeared one day. I called you to let you know, and to tell you that the cops were doing everything they could. Then a couple days later, Jess calls me, totally freaking out, and tells me that you’ve flipped out. So I went down to Stanford, and you were babbling on, something about demons and hell, and how Dad was in trouble and we had to go looking for him.”
Sam’s eyes widened. “No… no, we did. You came to tell me about Dad, and we were driving around, hunting, killing demons… driving all over the place, in the Impala…”
“Sammy, that didn’t happen. You imagined it. The cops found Dad’s body… the Impala’s out front in the parking lot, and we’ve never been hunting in our lives.”
“But…”
“Sam, please. I…” Dean swallowed, “I can’t do this. Seeing you like this… I can’t keep doing this. You’re my baby brother, and I’ll always be around, but I might not come here so much. It’s too… too painful.” He stood up and walked out, purposefully not looking back.
Carmen looked at Sam. “I know you’ve forgotten me, Sam, and that’s OK, because it’s not your fault. But please, try to get better. You’re not doing yourself or Dean any good by staying in this… fantasy world of yours. Please.” She smiled, stood up, and followed Dean out.
Sam watched her go, and felt the tears building in his eyes.
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SPN, hunter!Cas / angelic!Dean, "I know you're conflicted."
Cas leant against the wall, eyes closed, enjoying the warm sunlight on his face. His peace was disturbed by an almost-inaudible fluttering sound, and a voice.
“Hey, Cas.”
Cas opened his eyes to see the angel with the somewhat incongruous name of Dean standing nearby. He grunted and said, “What do you want?”, before looking away.
“Nothing. This is just to check in, make sure you’re all right. Are you?”
“All right, you mean? No. No, Dean, I’m not all right. What you told me before… it’s too much. I can’t do it.”
“I realise that you’re conflicted about what must be done. But it must be done. The fate of this world hangs in the balance.”
“Yeah, I know, you told me that too. Michael’s my brother. We grew up together. He always looked out for me, even when we were kids. Since Mom died… he’s all I’ve got. He went to Hell for me, I only just got him back. And now you come along, telling me that he’s going to bring about the end of the world. You want me to kill my brother but… no. I can’t. I’m sorry.”
“Uh-huh. That’s going to cause problems.”
“So deal with them. Just don’t kill my brother.”
“I can’t promise…”
“Why not? You’re an angel! Think of something!” Cas yells. The only response he gets is the faint fluttering sound as Dean vanishes. Cas kicks out at the tyre of the nearest car in frustration.
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Supernatural/Harry Potter, author’s choice, Somehow Harry Potter gets his hands on an antique Colt…
Hermione’s eyes widened as Harry reached into his rucksack and pulled out something wrapped in an old cloth.
“You actually found it?” she gasped.
“It wasn’t easy. Has Ron checked in?”
She swallowed nervously. “Not yet. Can I… see it?”
“OK.” Harry gingerly folded back the cloth, lifting out an antique, long-barrelled handgun. He held it out to her and she picked it up carefully.
“It’s lighter than I thought it would be. It’s strange… all the legends about this gun, but when it’s right there in your hand it doesn’t seem so important.”
“It definitely is, though. Now we’ve got it, we can finally end this.”
Hermione smiled. “I know.”
Just at that moment, Ron burst in. Unfortunately, he wasn’t alone - he was followed by two guys, both older than the trio. The shorter of the strangers looked quickly around the room, saw the gun in Hermione’s hand, and strode across the room.
“Where’d you get that?”
“Excuse me, who exactly are you, and why is it any of your business?”
He blinked. “The name’s Dean. He,” Dean indicated the other stranger behind him, “is Sam. We’re gonna need the Colt.”
“Well, so do we.”
Dean looked askance at the trio. “And who or what are you guys hunting, if you need that? Big Bird turning out to be more trouble than you thought?”
“We’re not kids,” Harry burst in, “and we’ve seen stuff you probably couldn’t even imagine.”
“Uh-huh. Like what? A few mutated pet turtles in a sewer?”
Harry, Ron and Hermione shared a nervous glance. Eventually Hermione said, “Uh, we probably shouldn’t say. We don’t really know you.”
“And I sure as hell don’t know you, so… the Colt, if you don’t mind?” Dean reached out a hand. From his expression, patience was clearly something he was running short on.
The other guy, Sam, stepped forward. “Hang on a second, Dean. They don’t look dangerous. And they managed to get their hands on the Colt, that’s impressive. Maybe they could help.”
Dean turned around. “Yeah, Lilith didn’t look dangerous, either, remember?” he hissed.
“What, you think these kids are demons?”
“I’m considering the possibility, at least.” Turning back to the trio, Dean said, “Okay, I may regret asking this but… any of you familiar with the name Lilith? Any of you met anybody with black eyes recently?”
They all shook their heads. “Why’d you need the Colt?”
Hermione straightened up a little. “I found something in a book that said it … uh, the Colt… could kill anything, even if it was really powerful. I think it’s safe to say that we have someone very powerful and very dangerous to kill. That’s why we came to America. We were looking for it.”
“You after some kind of demon?”
“Um, no… I thought demons didn’t exist. We’re after a wizard. His name is…” she glanced at Harry quickly, then said, much quieter, “Voldemort.”
“Never heard of him. He’s a wizard, though? I thought male witches were called warlocks.”
-------
Sandman/Supernatural, Delirium & Dean, would you like some fish in your icecream?
“You’ve got little birds all ‘round you.”
Dean opened his eyes and saw a homeless girl with multicoloured hair peering down at him with a curious expression. He also noticed a distinct lack of birds, little or otherwise, in the area.
“O-kay… and who are you, exactly?”
“Oh, I’m no-one in particular. My sister calls me Del.”
“So, did you see what happened? It was weird, I was walking to the car, then… I dunno, I must have blacked out or something.”
“Sort of. There was a man. He was rotting on the inside. He made you fall down and took your car, and drove off trailing dead air behind him.”
“He…” Dean sat up, and saw that the Impala was clearly missing from its parking space. “And you didn’t try to stop him? Or call for help?”
“He was scary,” she whispered. “If he’d seen me, he would have made me like him.”
She looks at Dean, wide-eyed, and he sees that her eyes are different colours - one blue, one green. Weird, he thought.
The girl - Del - seemed to have got over her encounter, though, as she had moved a few feet away and was looking at some sad-looking weeds at the side of the road. Dean got to his feet. “What’s so interesting over there?”
“Just looking at these plants. They’re pretty.”
‘Pretty’ was not the word Dean would have chosen. Del, meanwhile, looked up at him, and said, “I’m hungry. Do you like icecream? I like icecream. Sometimes, when I’m bored, I make up new flavours. Like electricity, or green mouse, or telephone. That’s not very nice, you know.”
“Er… okay.” He looked around, seeing a diner down the street. “Hey, kid, there’s a diner that way. They’d have icecream if you want some.”
“Really?” She squealed like a little girl. “Oh, that would be supercalifragilistiexpialidocius! Can we go get some Dean? Please?”
“Sure, okay. What was that word you said…”
“Supercalifragilistiexpialidocius?”
“Yeah, that one.”
“My sister took me to a film once. It was in that. There were birds too.”
“Oh.”
“Would you like some fish in your icecream?”
“Er… excuse me?”
Del’s face fell, and her eyes filled with tears. Dean was now feeling increasingly confused. He was saved, so to speak, by a goth girl who appeared from around a corner and said, “Del, what’re you up to now?”
Del sniffed. “I was going to get icecream with Dean. He said ‘excuse me’. I didn’t want to have to excuse him anything…”
The goth girl sighed. “It’s all right, Del, you don’t have to excuse anyone anything.” That didn’t do much good, though, so she settled for putting an arm around her sister’s shoulders. While Del cried, she smiled at Dean. “Hey. Sorry about this. She has bad moments.”
“It’s fine.” He looked at her curiously. “Do I know you?”
She smiled mysteriously. “Oh, probably. I meet a lot of people through my work. Now, if you don’t mind, I need to get Del out of here. See you around, Dean.”
With that, both girls vanished into thin air. A moment later, Sam walked out of the motel, saw the empty parking space, saw his brother standing there looking bemused, and said, “Dude, where’s the car?”
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Criminal Minds/Supernatural, author's choice/author's choice, Hendrickson calls on the BAU for help in tracking down the Winchesters
“So, Agent Hendrickson, why are you looking for these people?”
Hendrickson looked at Hotch as if he couldn’t quite believe what he’d just heard. He opened the file in his hands and started to read, “Fraud, burglary, arson, kidnapping, murder… it might be quicker to ask what they haven’t done.”
“I see,” Hotch took the file and looked through it, “well, we’ll see what we can do.”
***
“These guys are the most disorganised unsubs I’ve ever seen… M.O., location…” Reid studied the file in front of him curiously, “what do we know about their background?”
JJ picked up another file, “Uh, father was John Winchester, ex-Marine, mother was a Mary Campbell… nothing on her record, died November 1983. These guys… Dean Winchester, born 1979, then Sam in 1983… it seems like they were a normal family, at least until their mother died. Doesn’t look like they own a house, or any property, though they do have a car, a… ’67 Impala.”
“They move around a lot.”
“They’d have to, these cases are all over the country…”
-------
Supernatural, Sam/Dean, everything that happened was just a dream and Sam is sitting in an insane asylum
Sam’s eyes open, and he tries to get up but finds himself strapped down on the bed. He looks around, guessing he’s in a hospital of some kind, and shouts for help, hoping that a nurse or someone will come and release him.
Actually, two nurses show up, accompanying a doctor with a stern expression, who examines Sam and asks him questions - what’s his name, what year is it, who’s the President, simple things. Sam says what he thinks the man wants to hear, and asks a question of his own: “Where’s Dean?”
The doctor and nurses look at each other apprehensively. The doctor sits on the edge of his bed, and smiles kindly. “Now, Sam, you saw Dean only yesterday, remember? He came to visit you. You went for a walk in the grounds, remember?”
“What? No… no, I wasn’t here yesterday. Where’s my brother?”
“Your brother is at home, safe, with his wife, just where he’s supposed to be. They’ll be coming back this afternoon, you can see them then.”
“My brother isn’t married,” Sam says flatly. The doctor’s smile looks a little strained.
“Yes, Sam, he is. Her name is Carmen. Dean got you a day-release pass so you could be at the wedding, do you remember that?”
Sam shakes his head, and wonders what’s happened. The doctor gives him a sedative, ‘to calm him down’, and instructs the nurses to remove the restraints for now.
That afternoon, a nurse returns to Sam’s room, and helps him into a wheelchair, pushing him out to a cheerfully-decorated room, where patients and their families are gathered in small groups. The nurse takes him to a table where Dean is sitting with a pretty Latina woman. Sam guesses that this must be the Carmen he’s never heard of.
He ignores her and looks straight at Dean. “Dean, man, you’ve gotta get me out of here. They think I’m crazy.”
Dean chews his lip nervously. “Uh, Sammy… don’t you… remember?”
“Remember what?”
“Well, it started a few years ago… when you were at Stanford…”
“What started?”
“Uh, Dad went missing. Just disappeared one day. I called you to let you know, and to tell you that the cops were doing everything they could. Then a couple days later, Jess calls me, totally freaking out, and tells me that you’ve flipped out. So I went down to Stanford, and you were babbling on, something about demons and hell, and how Dad was in trouble and we had to go looking for him.”
Sam’s eyes widened. “No… no, we did. You came to tell me about Dad, and we were driving around, hunting, killing demons… driving all over the place, in the Impala…”
“Sammy, that didn’t happen. You imagined it. The cops found Dad’s body… the Impala’s out front in the parking lot, and we’ve never been hunting in our lives.”
“But…”
“Sam, please. I…” Dean swallowed, “I can’t do this. Seeing you like this… I can’t keep doing this. You’re my baby brother, and I’ll always be around, but I might not come here so much. It’s too… too painful.” He stood up and walked out, purposefully not looking back.
Carmen looked at Sam. “I know you’ve forgotten me, Sam, and that’s OK, because it’s not your fault. But please, try to get better. You’re not doing yourself or Dean any good by staying in this… fantasy world of yours. Please.” She smiled, stood up, and followed Dean out.
Sam watched her go, and felt the tears building in his eyes.
-------
SPN, hunter!Cas / angelic!Dean, "I know you're conflicted."
Cas leant against the wall, eyes closed, enjoying the warm sunlight on his face. His peace was disturbed by an almost-inaudible fluttering sound, and a voice.
“Hey, Cas.”
Cas opened his eyes to see the angel with the somewhat incongruous name of Dean standing nearby. He grunted and said, “What do you want?”, before looking away.
“Nothing. This is just to check in, make sure you’re all right. Are you?”
“All right, you mean? No. No, Dean, I’m not all right. What you told me before… it’s too much. I can’t do it.”
“I realise that you’re conflicted about what must be done. But it must be done. The fate of this world hangs in the balance.”
“Yeah, I know, you told me that too. Michael’s my brother. We grew up together. He always looked out for me, even when we were kids. Since Mom died… he’s all I’ve got. He went to Hell for me, I only just got him back. And now you come along, telling me that he’s going to bring about the end of the world. You want me to kill my brother but… no. I can’t. I’m sorry.”
“Uh-huh. That’s going to cause problems.”
“So deal with them. Just don’t kill my brother.”
“I can’t promise…”
“Why not? You’re an angel! Think of something!” Cas yells. The only response he gets is the faint fluttering sound as Dean vanishes. Cas kicks out at the tyre of the nearest car in frustration.
-------
Supernatural/Harry Potter, author’s choice, Somehow Harry Potter gets his hands on an antique Colt…
Hermione’s eyes widened as Harry reached into his rucksack and pulled out something wrapped in an old cloth.
“You actually found it?” she gasped.
“It wasn’t easy. Has Ron checked in?”
She swallowed nervously. “Not yet. Can I… see it?”
“OK.” Harry gingerly folded back the cloth, lifting out an antique, long-barrelled handgun. He held it out to her and she picked it up carefully.
“It’s lighter than I thought it would be. It’s strange… all the legends about this gun, but when it’s right there in your hand it doesn’t seem so important.”
“It definitely is, though. Now we’ve got it, we can finally end this.”
Hermione smiled. “I know.”
Just at that moment, Ron burst in. Unfortunately, he wasn’t alone - he was followed by two guys, both older than the trio. The shorter of the strangers looked quickly around the room, saw the gun in Hermione’s hand, and strode across the room.
“Where’d you get that?”
“Excuse me, who exactly are you, and why is it any of your business?”
He blinked. “The name’s Dean. He,” Dean indicated the other stranger behind him, “is Sam. We’re gonna need the Colt.”
“Well, so do we.”
Dean looked askance at the trio. “And who or what are you guys hunting, if you need that? Big Bird turning out to be more trouble than you thought?”
“We’re not kids,” Harry burst in, “and we’ve seen stuff you probably couldn’t even imagine.”
“Uh-huh. Like what? A few mutated pet turtles in a sewer?”
Harry, Ron and Hermione shared a nervous glance. Eventually Hermione said, “Uh, we probably shouldn’t say. We don’t really know you.”
“And I sure as hell don’t know you, so… the Colt, if you don’t mind?” Dean reached out a hand. From his expression, patience was clearly something he was running short on.
The other guy, Sam, stepped forward. “Hang on a second, Dean. They don’t look dangerous. And they managed to get their hands on the Colt, that’s impressive. Maybe they could help.”
Dean turned around. “Yeah, Lilith didn’t look dangerous, either, remember?” he hissed.
“What, you think these kids are demons?”
“I’m considering the possibility, at least.” Turning back to the trio, Dean said, “Okay, I may regret asking this but… any of you familiar with the name Lilith? Any of you met anybody with black eyes recently?”
They all shook their heads. “Why’d you need the Colt?”
Hermione straightened up a little. “I found something in a book that said it … uh, the Colt… could kill anything, even if it was really powerful. I think it’s safe to say that we have someone very powerful and very dangerous to kill. That’s why we came to America. We were looking for it.”
“You after some kind of demon?”
“Um, no… I thought demons didn’t exist. We’re after a wizard. His name is…” she glanced at Harry quickly, then said, much quieter, “Voldemort.”
“Never heard of him. He’s a wizard, though? I thought male witches were called warlocks.”
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