SPN Fanfic: Dear John...
Title: Dear John...
Characters:Daniel Elkins, I guess?
Classification: Prop-ficlet for Dead Man's Blood
Rating: General? K+?
Warnings: None
Word Count: 507 words
Disclaimer: I don't own anything Supernatural. Sigh.
Summary: What else did Elkins' letter say...
Originally posted May 8, 2006 at fanfiction.net
Dear John...
by CaffieneKitty
- - -
Dear John,
If you're reading this, I'm already dead. I have the Colt. Or had it, I guess. Wall safe, library, combination is 32-45-17. Hopefully whatever took me out didn't get it. Probably vampires, persistent bastards that they are.
If I know you, it'll be days or weeks before you read the rest of this. You'll read the first few lines, go get the Colt, and tear off on whatever your last lead on your wife's killer was. That's why I never told you I had it, much as you are likely now calling me a son of a bitch for not telling you.
At the time that I am writing this letter, you aren't ready. You are in such a raging hurry to fly off and immolate yourself in this quest, that I don't think you even really consider that you will fail, and you will die, and you will leave your boys alone and unprotected, with the thing you hunt bearing down on them.
They're tough kids, yes. I can honestly say I've never seen a ten-year-old field strip a sniper rifle faster than your boy Dean, and little Sammy's Latin declensions are coming along nicely, even though he's still a bit unsure about the pronunciation of the word 'cinnamon'. But they are going to need more than the memory of their last remaining parent to survive in this world, especially if you go off on a half-assed, hare-brained rampage, figuring you're invincible because you have the Colt.
If you go out after this thing now, you will fail, even with the gun. It's not just that you don't have the information to succeed, which you don't, it's that you won't stop and think. What you're after is not like many of the things we hunt. From what little we do know right now, it's methodical, organized, and patient, all things which you, as I write this, are not.
Your quest to get revenge on your wife's killer, and to end your pain, will not be fulfilled by me handing this gun to you tonight. All that will happen is you will speed off to meet your doom on another false lead, die and leave the gun in the hands of something dark, unpleasant and as vengeful as you.
This gun can kill anything, John. Dark or light. A weapon like that in the grip of some dire creature is more trouble than the world ever needs.
So, I hope that when you get this letter, I have died an old, old man, asleep in bed, long after my own hunt to eradicate the vampires is done. That Dean and Sammy are full grown men, with families of their own, safe from this hell of a life we have. And that you have a cool head and a vast mountain of information on your wife's killer, so you will know its methods, its reasoning, and its weaknesses, and be able to hunt it, kill it and survive.
That's what I hope, anyway. I wouldn't lay any wagers on it.
For god's sake, John, be careful.
Daniel
- - -
(end)
Characters:Daniel Elkins, I guess?
Classification: Prop-ficlet for Dead Man's Blood
Rating: General? K+?
Warnings: None
Word Count: 507 words
Disclaimer: I don't own anything Supernatural. Sigh.
Summary: What else did Elkins' letter say...
Originally posted May 8, 2006 at fanfiction.net
Dear John...
by CaffieneKitty
- - -
Dear John,
If you're reading this, I'm already dead. I have the Colt. Or had it, I guess. Wall safe, library, combination is 32-45-17. Hopefully whatever took me out didn't get it. Probably vampires, persistent bastards that they are.
If I know you, it'll be days or weeks before you read the rest of this. You'll read the first few lines, go get the Colt, and tear off on whatever your last lead on your wife's killer was. That's why I never told you I had it, much as you are likely now calling me a son of a bitch for not telling you.
At the time that I am writing this letter, you aren't ready. You are in such a raging hurry to fly off and immolate yourself in this quest, that I don't think you even really consider that you will fail, and you will die, and you will leave your boys alone and unprotected, with the thing you hunt bearing down on them.
They're tough kids, yes. I can honestly say I've never seen a ten-year-old field strip a sniper rifle faster than your boy Dean, and little Sammy's Latin declensions are coming along nicely, even though he's still a bit unsure about the pronunciation of the word 'cinnamon'. But they are going to need more than the memory of their last remaining parent to survive in this world, especially if you go off on a half-assed, hare-brained rampage, figuring you're invincible because you have the Colt.
If you go out after this thing now, you will fail, even with the gun. It's not just that you don't have the information to succeed, which you don't, it's that you won't stop and think. What you're after is not like many of the things we hunt. From what little we do know right now, it's methodical, organized, and patient, all things which you, as I write this, are not.
Your quest to get revenge on your wife's killer, and to end your pain, will not be fulfilled by me handing this gun to you tonight. All that will happen is you will speed off to meet your doom on another false lead, die and leave the gun in the hands of something dark, unpleasant and as vengeful as you.
This gun can kill anything, John. Dark or light. A weapon like that in the grip of some dire creature is more trouble than the world ever needs.
So, I hope that when you get this letter, I have died an old, old man, asleep in bed, long after my own hunt to eradicate the vampires is done. That Dean and Sammy are full grown men, with families of their own, safe from this hell of a life we have. And that you have a cool head and a vast mountain of information on your wife's killer, so you will know its methods, its reasoning, and its weaknesses, and be able to hunt it, kill it and survive.
That's what I hope, anyway. I wouldn't lay any wagers on it.
For god's sake, John, be careful.
Daniel
- - -
(end)