FIC: Somewhere Between the Soul and Soft Machine (1/1) (SPN, gen)
Title: Somewhere Between the Soul and Soft Machine
Pairing: gen, Sam and Dean
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: character death (kind of)
Summary: Written for the 2019 springfling and never reposted, but making me look pretty damn psychic. A different take on the end of the story. Title is from "Kyrie Eleison," which I've always associated with Sam and Dean and was one of the prompts.
"You have to allow them this." His eyes are bright, not with supernatural power but with passion, with grief, with righteous fury. "It's the right thing to do."
She folds her arms across her chest. "What I have to do is what I told them would happen. What I warned them would happen, based on their past actions."
"They outlasted you longer than anyone could have ever thought they would. They saved the world so many times while they were here, kept so many people from having their lives cut short. They deserve more than the Empty."
She shrugs. "Those are the rules."
"Then change them." The gleam in his eyes is a little more amber now, a little bit darker and deeper. "Or I'll make you."
"Your power is of Heaven and Earth," she says. "But we're in neither place right now. And you've been a full-grown man by human standards for some years now, so your childish tantrums won't work, either."
"Doesn't matter where I am." He straightens his shoulders, shadows of wings clearly spreading wide even here in this space of endless darkness, eyes starting to glow with a bright golden flame. "It only matters who I am."
She stands firm for as long as she can, first through her own not inconsiderable power, and then for a while through sheer stubbornness. She knows she's going to give in almost from the start, though-somehow the soft spot for Winchesters got transferred to her along with the rest of the job. Not to mention that they'd probably never leave it alone if they were trapped in the Empty, and she doesn't need the headache from that. Still, she's not going to make this easy on the kid.
So when she finally shouts, "All right!" against the maelstrom of power beating down on her, and the whirlwind withdraws, she's a little relieved to see him panting for breath. She's pleased to note her voice is just as calm and unflappable as ever as she asks, "I assume you want to follow the original plan?"
"With one addition." He sketches out a scene in the air between them.
She rolls her eyes, but it's not like it's a problem. Might keep them more content, at any rate, and therefore out of her hair. "Done."
The smile that spreads across his face is almost as bright as the flash of his power. "Thank you, Billie."
"Don't mention it." She fixes him with a stern gaze. "Seriously, do not mention it."
"Now this is the life, huh, Sammy?" Dean leans back in the seat, arm resting on the open window, his other hand steering the Impala around a series of gentle curves. The sun is warm and bright above them, green and golden fields stretching out in every direction.
"Yeah, it… it is." Sam's got a frown on his face, the one that makes his forehead look like he's picking up wifi. "How'd we get here, Dean?"
Dean pats the dashboard. "Same way we get anywhere. In my baby."
"But we were just-" Sam turns to look over his shoulder. Dean can see in the rearview mirror that there's nothing but the green cooler in the backseat and the road is spiraling out behind them from a deep, dark forest. "Where were we just now?"
"Don't worry about it, Sam." He puts a little bit of an edge into his voice, but he knows even as he does it that it's not going to work.
Sure enough, Sam's looking at his own hands, turning them over and over like they're foreign to him. "Um, Dean, how come-"
"Yeah, that's the first thing I noticed." Dean sighs as he slows down and pulls to the side of the road. The shoulder is just wide enough for the Impala, but he gets the feeling there's not going to be a whole lot of traffic through here anyway. "What's the last thing you remember?"
"We were working a case. It was…vampires? Werewolves?"
"Vampires." Dean shakes his head. "Always said I wanted to go down swinging, but I didn't realize it was going to be so literal."
Sam's eyes go wide. "You were swinging at one with a machete. And then another one came up behind you, and-"
"Yeah." Dean lets out a heavy sigh. "Fucking vampires."
Sam looks down at his hands again. "I saw you go down, and I-I don't know what happened next."
"Not too hard to guess. Given that you ended up here the same time I did."
"So we're dead." Sam's voice is flat, disbelieving.
"Anything else make sense to you? Given that we look about thirty years younger than last I checked?"
"But we're-" Sam gestures at the open fields around them, the bright sunlight pouring from above. "This is not what Billie threatened us with all those years ago."
"Maybe there's a statute of limitations." Dean shrugs one shoulder. "Maybe we earned our way out."
"You think Billie had a change of heart?" Sam asks with an edge to his voice.
"Maybe we're just irresistible," Dean grins. That gets the eye-roll he expected, and he leans forward, towards Sam. "You can feel it though, can't you? Something's different."
"From all of the times we've died before?" Sam's tone is dry, but Dean can practically see the wheels turning in his head.
After a moment Dean says, "I can't believe we survived Yellow-Eyes and the Apocalypse and the Darkness and everything else…just to go out on a hunt. It's kind of embarrassing."
"But that's it." Sam finally turns towards him, putting a hand on his shoulder. "This wasn't part of somebody's plan. It wasn't a price to be paid or a manipulation by one side or another. It was just…our time."
"You think that's why we ended up in the Good Place?"
"I don't know." Sam's starting to smile, a slow spread of joy across his face. "But it feels…good."
"Yeah?" Dean flashes a grin at him. "Whaddya say we stop in the next town and find a diner? Bet they all have organic kale smoothies up here."
Sam's shaking his head, but the smile on his face won't go away. When Dean hits the gas and sends them down the road, that smile warms him as much as the sunlight outside.
Pairing: gen, Sam and Dean
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: character death (kind of)
Summary: Written for the 2019 springfling and never reposted, but making me look pretty damn psychic. A different take on the end of the story. Title is from "Kyrie Eleison," which I've always associated with Sam and Dean and was one of the prompts.
"You have to allow them this." His eyes are bright, not with supernatural power but with passion, with grief, with righteous fury. "It's the right thing to do."
She folds her arms across her chest. "What I have to do is what I told them would happen. What I warned them would happen, based on their past actions."
"They outlasted you longer than anyone could have ever thought they would. They saved the world so many times while they were here, kept so many people from having their lives cut short. They deserve more than the Empty."
She shrugs. "Those are the rules."
"Then change them." The gleam in his eyes is a little more amber now, a little bit darker and deeper. "Or I'll make you."
"Your power is of Heaven and Earth," she says. "But we're in neither place right now. And you've been a full-grown man by human standards for some years now, so your childish tantrums won't work, either."
"Doesn't matter where I am." He straightens his shoulders, shadows of wings clearly spreading wide even here in this space of endless darkness, eyes starting to glow with a bright golden flame. "It only matters who I am."
She stands firm for as long as she can, first through her own not inconsiderable power, and then for a while through sheer stubbornness. She knows she's going to give in almost from the start, though-somehow the soft spot for Winchesters got transferred to her along with the rest of the job. Not to mention that they'd probably never leave it alone if they were trapped in the Empty, and she doesn't need the headache from that. Still, she's not going to make this easy on the kid.
So when she finally shouts, "All right!" against the maelstrom of power beating down on her, and the whirlwind withdraws, she's a little relieved to see him panting for breath. She's pleased to note her voice is just as calm and unflappable as ever as she asks, "I assume you want to follow the original plan?"
"With one addition." He sketches out a scene in the air between them.
She rolls her eyes, but it's not like it's a problem. Might keep them more content, at any rate, and therefore out of her hair. "Done."
The smile that spreads across his face is almost as bright as the flash of his power. "Thank you, Billie."
"Don't mention it." She fixes him with a stern gaze. "Seriously, do not mention it."
"Now this is the life, huh, Sammy?" Dean leans back in the seat, arm resting on the open window, his other hand steering the Impala around a series of gentle curves. The sun is warm and bright above them, green and golden fields stretching out in every direction.
"Yeah, it… it is." Sam's got a frown on his face, the one that makes his forehead look like he's picking up wifi. "How'd we get here, Dean?"
Dean pats the dashboard. "Same way we get anywhere. In my baby."
"But we were just-" Sam turns to look over his shoulder. Dean can see in the rearview mirror that there's nothing but the green cooler in the backseat and the road is spiraling out behind them from a deep, dark forest. "Where were we just now?"
"Don't worry about it, Sam." He puts a little bit of an edge into his voice, but he knows even as he does it that it's not going to work.
Sure enough, Sam's looking at his own hands, turning them over and over like they're foreign to him. "Um, Dean, how come-"
"Yeah, that's the first thing I noticed." Dean sighs as he slows down and pulls to the side of the road. The shoulder is just wide enough for the Impala, but he gets the feeling there's not going to be a whole lot of traffic through here anyway. "What's the last thing you remember?"
"We were working a case. It was…vampires? Werewolves?"
"Vampires." Dean shakes his head. "Always said I wanted to go down swinging, but I didn't realize it was going to be so literal."
Sam's eyes go wide. "You were swinging at one with a machete. And then another one came up behind you, and-"
"Yeah." Dean lets out a heavy sigh. "Fucking vampires."
Sam looks down at his hands again. "I saw you go down, and I-I don't know what happened next."
"Not too hard to guess. Given that you ended up here the same time I did."
"So we're dead." Sam's voice is flat, disbelieving.
"Anything else make sense to you? Given that we look about thirty years younger than last I checked?"
"But we're-" Sam gestures at the open fields around them, the bright sunlight pouring from above. "This is not what Billie threatened us with all those years ago."
"Maybe there's a statute of limitations." Dean shrugs one shoulder. "Maybe we earned our way out."
"You think Billie had a change of heart?" Sam asks with an edge to his voice.
"Maybe we're just irresistible," Dean grins. That gets the eye-roll he expected, and he leans forward, towards Sam. "You can feel it though, can't you? Something's different."
"From all of the times we've died before?" Sam's tone is dry, but Dean can practically see the wheels turning in his head.
After a moment Dean says, "I can't believe we survived Yellow-Eyes and the Apocalypse and the Darkness and everything else…just to go out on a hunt. It's kind of embarrassing."
"But that's it." Sam finally turns towards him, putting a hand on his shoulder. "This wasn't part of somebody's plan. It wasn't a price to be paid or a manipulation by one side or another. It was just…our time."
"You think that's why we ended up in the Good Place?"
"I don't know." Sam's starting to smile, a slow spread of joy across his face. "But it feels…good."
"Yeah?" Dean flashes a grin at him. "Whaddya say we stop in the next town and find a diner? Bet they all have organic kale smoothies up here."
Sam's shaking his head, but the smile on his face won't go away. When Dean hits the gas and sends them down the road, that smile warms him as much as the sunlight outside.