In Spite of All the Danger (6/13)
Title: In Spite of All the Danger
Chapter Title: Getting Better
Wordcount: 974 this chapter
Rating: PG-13
Characters/Pairings: Sam, Dean, OMC with appearances by Castiel and Ruby
Warnings: None
Spoilers: None so far. It's set late season 4 so there will possibly be eventual mentions of what's gone on before
Disclaimer: If you recognize the character, it's not mine
Summary: The brothers, in the course of a simple salt and burn, meet up with a stranger who conveniently needs to be rescued
A/N: This is my first Supernatural fic so please be kind. I'm a little nervous regarding its reception. Thanks to my beta just_ruth
Song on YouTube: Getting Better--The Beatles
One: Dear Prudence
Two: You Can't Do That
Three: Help!
Four: Happiness is a Warm Gun
Five: It's All Too Much
Dean sighed in near ecstasy as he took another bite of the restaurant’s signature burger. It was a bit more high-end than he normally would have-with bacon and blue cheese sauce on some fancy roll-but it was worth it. This definitely surpassed Providence. Sam had tucked into his salad and was talking with Alan who was having fish and chips. “A little taste of home,” he called it.
He nearly choked at the story Alan was telling. “Hold on a second, you fought with pirates?”
“Yeah, that was early on. It was after Bosworth but before Lexington.”
“You were at Lexington? What about Concord?” questioned Sam.
Oh, Sammy boy was in geek heaven with this topic. At least it had taken his mind off the hunt for a little bit. “So, how did you get into the time travel gig?”
“I’ll give you the Reader’s Digest version. My best friend invented this machine and called me over. He also called a man named Cameron James, an arms dealer who used philanthropy as a cover. James and I fought and I got sent back to Bosworth Field in 1458. I made it home to find my best friend dead and I’m the prime suspect.”
“I know the feeling,” Dean commented around his fries.
“After a few…stops, I went home and learned the whole thing was a sting. My name was cleared and I was reinstated with a promotion.” He drank his beer.
“You’re military?” Sam looked at Dean nervously.
“Colonel. And, if you look at this logically, I have no jurisdiction of any sort considering I’m not even born for another 200 years. Besides, I’m here to help, remember?”
“Sorry, habit,” Dean said a little sheepishly.
“As long as you remember that, we’ll be fine.” Alan finished the last of his lunch. “Now, how about dessert?”
“Now you’re talking.” Dean swallowed the last of his beer and grabbed the dessert menu. There were only three kinds of pie. “I want to try this banoffi.”
Sam took the menu. “Banana, Dean? I would’ve thought you’d take the pecan with the scotch.”
“I thought I’d veer from the predictable.” He loved it when he could surprise Sam.
Later, content with a full stomach and happy behind the wheel of his baby, Dean drummed away to AC/DC. Checking the rearview mirror, he could tell Alan wasn’t a fan of the music. “Don’t like it?”
“I like more of a variety. Too much of the same and you fall into a rut.”
“I’ve got a variety. There’s AC/DC, Metallica, Zeppelin…”
“Same style, though. I think you need to branch out a bit more.”
“Sorry I asked.”
Sam laughed.
Dean pulled into the hotel parking lot. It was a bit better than their usual stop, but still not even two-star. He heard rustling as Sam gathered his papers together. The kid seemed to thrive with books and papers. “C’mon, Sammy, show us what you found.”
Sam muttered something which was probably along the lines of ‘my name is Sam’. Dean unlocked the door to their room, slipped off his jacket and tossed it on his bed, the one by the door. Alan paused at the door and Dean knew he was gauging the room for defense. Now he could see the military in him. If he really knew how to hunt, he’d be a great ally.
Sam came in last and set his stuff on the foot of the other bed. “I have a theory but we need to get more from Cas before I can say for sure.”
For some reason, Castiel seemed to answer when he called more so than Sam. Maybe it was the whole demon blood thing, he wasn’t sure. “Hey, Cas, get your butt down here!” he yelled at the ceiling. “We need some answers!”
“Why are you not out stopping the seal?” demanded Cas upon his arrival. “We do not have much time.”
“You never said there was a clock ticking down.” Dean glared at him. “You never said a lot of things.”
“Dean, you know I cannot--”
“If you know something that will help us stop this thing, you have to tell us since you got us this gig.”
“Castiel,” Alan broke in, “what can you tell us? We can’t do what you want of us unless we know the full story.”
Dean didn’t appreciate the interruption of an outsider even if it did steer them back on track. He absently rubbed the mark on his upper left arm where Castiel had grabbed him and “raised him from Perdition”. It always seemed to act up when he though of…what happened, which seemed to be quite often now. At least the nightmares had stopped coming every night. He didn’t know if it had to do with telling Sam, confronting Alastair or even resigning himself to this whole deal with the angels. He knew he still had a long way to go, and he knew it would never completely leave him, but he was beginning to come to terms with it.
“’The raising of the once-righteous shall bring about the abominable’,” Cas quoted.
Hell, that could be me and Sammy; the Righteous Man and his brother, the Abomination. He took a deep breath to banish thoughts from his mind that didn’t have to do with the hunt at hand. “So, kinda what happened with Samhain, with the sacrifice? We stopped him.”
“The seal was still broken,” Sam reminded softly.
Yeah, wasn’t trying to think on that. “So, we can handle this, right?”
“I hope so. This will be much harder to prevent. What will be raised is not named.”
“It can’t be that bad if he doesn’t have a name.”
“Dean, in early civilizations, the names of powerful beings were never said for fear of drawing their attention.” Sam sounded apologetic.
“Crap!”
The place they go for lunch
Seven: Day Tripper
Chapter Title: Getting Better
Wordcount: 974 this chapter
Rating: PG-13
Characters/Pairings: Sam, Dean, OMC with appearances by Castiel and Ruby
Warnings: None
Spoilers: None so far. It's set late season 4 so there will possibly be eventual mentions of what's gone on before
Disclaimer: If you recognize the character, it's not mine
Summary: The brothers, in the course of a simple salt and burn, meet up with a stranger who conveniently needs to be rescued
A/N: This is my first Supernatural fic so please be kind. I'm a little nervous regarding its reception. Thanks to my beta just_ruth
Song on YouTube: Getting Better--The Beatles
One: Dear Prudence
Two: You Can't Do That
Three: Help!
Four: Happiness is a Warm Gun
Five: It's All Too Much
Dean sighed in near ecstasy as he took another bite of the restaurant’s signature burger. It was a bit more high-end than he normally would have-with bacon and blue cheese sauce on some fancy roll-but it was worth it. This definitely surpassed Providence. Sam had tucked into his salad and was talking with Alan who was having fish and chips. “A little taste of home,” he called it.
He nearly choked at the story Alan was telling. “Hold on a second, you fought with pirates?”
“Yeah, that was early on. It was after Bosworth but before Lexington.”
“You were at Lexington? What about Concord?” questioned Sam.
Oh, Sammy boy was in geek heaven with this topic. At least it had taken his mind off the hunt for a little bit. “So, how did you get into the time travel gig?”
“I’ll give you the Reader’s Digest version. My best friend invented this machine and called me over. He also called a man named Cameron James, an arms dealer who used philanthropy as a cover. James and I fought and I got sent back to Bosworth Field in 1458. I made it home to find my best friend dead and I’m the prime suspect.”
“I know the feeling,” Dean commented around his fries.
“After a few…stops, I went home and learned the whole thing was a sting. My name was cleared and I was reinstated with a promotion.” He drank his beer.
“You’re military?” Sam looked at Dean nervously.
“Colonel. And, if you look at this logically, I have no jurisdiction of any sort considering I’m not even born for another 200 years. Besides, I’m here to help, remember?”
“Sorry, habit,” Dean said a little sheepishly.
“As long as you remember that, we’ll be fine.” Alan finished the last of his lunch. “Now, how about dessert?”
“Now you’re talking.” Dean swallowed the last of his beer and grabbed the dessert menu. There were only three kinds of pie. “I want to try this banoffi.”
Sam took the menu. “Banana, Dean? I would’ve thought you’d take the pecan with the scotch.”
“I thought I’d veer from the predictable.” He loved it when he could surprise Sam.
Later, content with a full stomach and happy behind the wheel of his baby, Dean drummed away to AC/DC. Checking the rearview mirror, he could tell Alan wasn’t a fan of the music. “Don’t like it?”
“I like more of a variety. Too much of the same and you fall into a rut.”
“I’ve got a variety. There’s AC/DC, Metallica, Zeppelin…”
“Same style, though. I think you need to branch out a bit more.”
“Sorry I asked.”
Sam laughed.
Dean pulled into the hotel parking lot. It was a bit better than their usual stop, but still not even two-star. He heard rustling as Sam gathered his papers together. The kid seemed to thrive with books and papers. “C’mon, Sammy, show us what you found.”
Sam muttered something which was probably along the lines of ‘my name is Sam’. Dean unlocked the door to their room, slipped off his jacket and tossed it on his bed, the one by the door. Alan paused at the door and Dean knew he was gauging the room for defense. Now he could see the military in him. If he really knew how to hunt, he’d be a great ally.
Sam came in last and set his stuff on the foot of the other bed. “I have a theory but we need to get more from Cas before I can say for sure.”
For some reason, Castiel seemed to answer when he called more so than Sam. Maybe it was the whole demon blood thing, he wasn’t sure. “Hey, Cas, get your butt down here!” he yelled at the ceiling. “We need some answers!”
“Why are you not out stopping the seal?” demanded Cas upon his arrival. “We do not have much time.”
“You never said there was a clock ticking down.” Dean glared at him. “You never said a lot of things.”
“Dean, you know I cannot--”
“If you know something that will help us stop this thing, you have to tell us since you got us this gig.”
“Castiel,” Alan broke in, “what can you tell us? We can’t do what you want of us unless we know the full story.”
Dean didn’t appreciate the interruption of an outsider even if it did steer them back on track. He absently rubbed the mark on his upper left arm where Castiel had grabbed him and “raised him from Perdition”. It always seemed to act up when he though of…what happened, which seemed to be quite often now. At least the nightmares had stopped coming every night. He didn’t know if it had to do with telling Sam, confronting Alastair or even resigning himself to this whole deal with the angels. He knew he still had a long way to go, and he knew it would never completely leave him, but he was beginning to come to terms with it.
“’The raising of the once-righteous shall bring about the abominable’,” Cas quoted.
Hell, that could be me and Sammy; the Righteous Man and his brother, the Abomination. He took a deep breath to banish thoughts from his mind that didn’t have to do with the hunt at hand. “So, kinda what happened with Samhain, with the sacrifice? We stopped him.”
“The seal was still broken,” Sam reminded softly.
Yeah, wasn’t trying to think on that. “So, we can handle this, right?”
“I hope so. This will be much harder to prevent. What will be raised is not named.”
“It can’t be that bad if he doesn’t have a name.”
“Dean, in early civilizations, the names of powerful beings were never said for fear of drawing their attention.” Sam sounded apologetic.
“Crap!”
The place they go for lunch
Seven: Day Tripper