sam/river - Blinded By Rainbows
Title: Blinded By Rainbows
Author: Liv darkmagic-luvr
Fandom: Supernatural/Firefly
Characters: Sam Winchester, River Tam, Ruby, unfortunate bar patrons
30_shinyfics Prompt: 27. save us all
30_kisses Prompt: 21. violence
Rating: T
Warnings: through season 3 of Supernatural and Serenity.
Disclaimer: I don’t own Supernatural or Firefly. Any characters you don’t recognize are original and should not be used without my permission.
Author’s Note: Oneshot. Title from the song Blinded by Rainbows by the Rolling Stones.
The sounds of gravel crunching under the wheels of the Impala reached Sam’s ears as he finally turned off his emo music, turning off the engine in the parking lot of a dingy, out-of-the-way bar. He hadn’t slept in a few days, and the effects of that were starting to wear on him. His temper was the first thing to go. He wanted sleep, but he felt the need to get shit faced first. The Impala door creaked open as Sam climbed out of the car, ignoring the looks a few of the bikers were giving him at his appearance.
The sounds of drunken bar patrons and country music filtered out of the bar, mulling together with the sounds of engines in the parking lot. Sam pushed through the bar doors, narrowly avoiding a very tall drunk man with his arm wrapped around a scantily clad woman as they stumbled their way past him into the parking lot. Sam tried not to smirk at the song the taller man was singing under his breath and made his way over to the bar, pushing past good people having a good time and sliding into an empty stool. He folded his arms across the counter top of the bar, leaning against them, his head tipped forward slightly and his hair falling into his eyes.
Sam felt something warm press against his side and a glass clink against the wooden bar counter in front of him. He looked up at it, seeing brown liquid slosh over the edge of the glass, running down the glass and onto the hand of the person holding it. Sam’s eyes drifted over her hand and up the arm it was connected to until he found himself staring into a pair of dark, blank eyes.
“So you can’t hear them scream,” said the girl. She didn’t look any older than 18, long dark hair fell into her face, the dark blue dress she was wearing fell to her knees, accompanied by a pair of combat boots. Sam blinked at her, taking a moment or two to realize what she had said. It sounded vaguely personal, but before he had a chance to ask her what she meant she was gone. Sam felt his eyes narrow and he turned back to the drink she had left in front of him, his hair falling into his eyes once again.
The radio behind the bar, which had been playing the same static filled country song since Sam had walked in, abruptly stopped. He looked up, his eyes focusing on the old radio sitting in between a bottle of Jack and a row of salt and pepper shakers. The bartender whacked the top of the radio, and turned back to one of his customers as it stuttered back to life. The static stopped and a completely different tune started playing, catching Sam’s attention back and holding it. It was an instrumental song, like someone had put Battlestar Galactica on loop. Behind him, something crashed and what Sam assumed was a bar fight began shortly after.
He pointedly ignored it, not bothering to turn around as the men around him began falling like flies. It wasn’t until a beer bottle narrowly missed the side of his face that he turned his head. He was fairly surprised to see most of the bar patrons unconscious and that girl who’d given him the drink, dropkick one of the burliest bikers he’d ever seen, sending him flying face first into the seat next to Sam. He looked down at the unconscious man and then back up at the ninety pound girl (now wielding a piece of broken chair) who was staring back. He could only stare at her as she instigated another fight with a man holding a broken beer bottle. He threw it at her, point blank, and dodged it easily, gracefully. Sam was so absorbed in watching her movements that he didn’t register that man falling to the ground and that same broken beer bottle being flung at him.
Sam could feel something warm slide down the side of his face as he blinked quickly to clear his vision. His hand automatically lifted to the side of his face, his fingers coming in contact with the cut above his eyebrow. He brought his hand down, staring at the blood on his hand and then flicking his eyes onto the dark haired girl standing on the table in front of him with an absent look in her eyes. His eyes narrowed. He Hadn’t wanted to pick a fight with her, he had been perfectly content to just watch her up until this point. Sam stood up, pulling his gun from the waistband of his jeans, aiming it almost lazily at the girl.
In three moves she had jumped off the table, kicked the gun out of his hand, into the air and catching it before he had a chance to register it was gone. However, while she was busy disarming him, he managed to get his hand around her throat, his other hand curling around one of her wrists.
The noise seemed to stop, nothing but the chiming of the radio in the background. The girl tried jerking her hand out of Sam’s hand, but he only tightened his grip on her neck, watching her dark eyes fill with tears. A cut across her forehead was starting to bruise along, the blood seeping down the side of her face mixing with her sweat and hair. Sam was breathing heavily, slightly afraid of the girl holding a gun to his chest.
“River.”
Sam frowned, surprised by her sudden announcement. The researcher in him immediately began to speculate what the hell she meant by river. He racked his brain quickly, until he realized she had given him her name. “Sam.”
River clicked the safety back on the gun just as Sam loosened his grip on her neck. Brown eyes stared into equally dangerous hazel eyes, their bodies still close enough to feel the heat coming off each other. His hand was still wrapped around her wrist, but she was still holding his gun.
Drop it.
Her wrist fell from his hand, his gun fell from hers, eyes still locked. The music coming from the radio seemed to be getting louder. Sam felt (more than saw) River raise her arm, her hand sliding over the back of his neck.
“I’m not a demon.”
River’s back slammed against the wall unceremoniously, Sam’s hands pressed firmly against her hips, his mouth pressed against hers and his shirt hanging from one of River’s hands with nearly all of the buttons gone. River bit his bottom lip hard enough to make him bleed, running her hands up his arms and sending a shiver up his spine.
Sam snaked his tongue into her mouth, threading his fingers into her hair and lifting her off the ground and pinning her against the wall behind her. Her teeth clicked against his, and he tasted blood, not bothering to pull his mouth away from hers as he tore her dress from her body. Her nails raked down his shoulders, coming to a stop at the tattoo on his chest. Her fingertips drifted over the shape, (her eyes closed as her tongue tangled with his) like she had memorized the design after years of doodling it, following the patterns perfectly. Sam tightened his grip on her hair, eliciting a whimper from the back of her throat.
Lao-tyen.
Ruby watched from outside Sam’s motel room, her arms crossed over her chest, her dark hair falling in waves over her shoulders. Her eyes narrowed, watching Sam and this girl sleep. It was disgusting, watching Sam succumb to someone he met two hours ago. Then again, this wasn’t the same Sam.
Ruby shook her head, moving away from the window, her boots clicking against the pavement. From inside the motel room River watched her go, watched her disappear into the black then turned her eyes onto Sam.
Finished.
Author: Liv darkmagic-luvr
Fandom: Supernatural/Firefly
Characters: Sam Winchester, River Tam, Ruby, unfortunate bar patrons
30_shinyfics Prompt: 27. save us all
30_kisses Prompt: 21. violence
Rating: T
Warnings: through season 3 of Supernatural and Serenity.
Disclaimer: I don’t own Supernatural or Firefly. Any characters you don’t recognize are original and should not be used without my permission.
Author’s Note: Oneshot. Title from the song Blinded by Rainbows by the Rolling Stones.
The sounds of gravel crunching under the wheels of the Impala reached Sam’s ears as he finally turned off his emo music, turning off the engine in the parking lot of a dingy, out-of-the-way bar. He hadn’t slept in a few days, and the effects of that were starting to wear on him. His temper was the first thing to go. He wanted sleep, but he felt the need to get shit faced first. The Impala door creaked open as Sam climbed out of the car, ignoring the looks a few of the bikers were giving him at his appearance.
The sounds of drunken bar patrons and country music filtered out of the bar, mulling together with the sounds of engines in the parking lot. Sam pushed through the bar doors, narrowly avoiding a very tall drunk man with his arm wrapped around a scantily clad woman as they stumbled their way past him into the parking lot. Sam tried not to smirk at the song the taller man was singing under his breath and made his way over to the bar, pushing past good people having a good time and sliding into an empty stool. He folded his arms across the counter top of the bar, leaning against them, his head tipped forward slightly and his hair falling into his eyes.
Sam felt something warm press against his side and a glass clink against the wooden bar counter in front of him. He looked up at it, seeing brown liquid slosh over the edge of the glass, running down the glass and onto the hand of the person holding it. Sam’s eyes drifted over her hand and up the arm it was connected to until he found himself staring into a pair of dark, blank eyes.
“So you can’t hear them scream,” said the girl. She didn’t look any older than 18, long dark hair fell into her face, the dark blue dress she was wearing fell to her knees, accompanied by a pair of combat boots. Sam blinked at her, taking a moment or two to realize what she had said. It sounded vaguely personal, but before he had a chance to ask her what she meant she was gone. Sam felt his eyes narrow and he turned back to the drink she had left in front of him, his hair falling into his eyes once again.
The radio behind the bar, which had been playing the same static filled country song since Sam had walked in, abruptly stopped. He looked up, his eyes focusing on the old radio sitting in between a bottle of Jack and a row of salt and pepper shakers. The bartender whacked the top of the radio, and turned back to one of his customers as it stuttered back to life. The static stopped and a completely different tune started playing, catching Sam’s attention back and holding it. It was an instrumental song, like someone had put Battlestar Galactica on loop. Behind him, something crashed and what Sam assumed was a bar fight began shortly after.
He pointedly ignored it, not bothering to turn around as the men around him began falling like flies. It wasn’t until a beer bottle narrowly missed the side of his face that he turned his head. He was fairly surprised to see most of the bar patrons unconscious and that girl who’d given him the drink, dropkick one of the burliest bikers he’d ever seen, sending him flying face first into the seat next to Sam. He looked down at the unconscious man and then back up at the ninety pound girl (now wielding a piece of broken chair) who was staring back. He could only stare at her as she instigated another fight with a man holding a broken beer bottle. He threw it at her, point blank, and dodged it easily, gracefully. Sam was so absorbed in watching her movements that he didn’t register that man falling to the ground and that same broken beer bottle being flung at him.
Sam could feel something warm slide down the side of his face as he blinked quickly to clear his vision. His hand automatically lifted to the side of his face, his fingers coming in contact with the cut above his eyebrow. He brought his hand down, staring at the blood on his hand and then flicking his eyes onto the dark haired girl standing on the table in front of him with an absent look in her eyes. His eyes narrowed. He Hadn’t wanted to pick a fight with her, he had been perfectly content to just watch her up until this point. Sam stood up, pulling his gun from the waistband of his jeans, aiming it almost lazily at the girl.
In three moves she had jumped off the table, kicked the gun out of his hand, into the air and catching it before he had a chance to register it was gone. However, while she was busy disarming him, he managed to get his hand around her throat, his other hand curling around one of her wrists.
The noise seemed to stop, nothing but the chiming of the radio in the background. The girl tried jerking her hand out of Sam’s hand, but he only tightened his grip on her neck, watching her dark eyes fill with tears. A cut across her forehead was starting to bruise along, the blood seeping down the side of her face mixing with her sweat and hair. Sam was breathing heavily, slightly afraid of the girl holding a gun to his chest.
“River.”
Sam frowned, surprised by her sudden announcement. The researcher in him immediately began to speculate what the hell she meant by river. He racked his brain quickly, until he realized she had given him her name. “Sam.”
River clicked the safety back on the gun just as Sam loosened his grip on her neck. Brown eyes stared into equally dangerous hazel eyes, their bodies still close enough to feel the heat coming off each other. His hand was still wrapped around her wrist, but she was still holding his gun.
Drop it.
Her wrist fell from his hand, his gun fell from hers, eyes still locked. The music coming from the radio seemed to be getting louder. Sam felt (more than saw) River raise her arm, her hand sliding over the back of his neck.
“I’m not a demon.”
River’s back slammed against the wall unceremoniously, Sam’s hands pressed firmly against her hips, his mouth pressed against hers and his shirt hanging from one of River’s hands with nearly all of the buttons gone. River bit his bottom lip hard enough to make him bleed, running her hands up his arms and sending a shiver up his spine.
Sam snaked his tongue into her mouth, threading his fingers into her hair and lifting her off the ground and pinning her against the wall behind her. Her teeth clicked against his, and he tasted blood, not bothering to pull his mouth away from hers as he tore her dress from her body. Her nails raked down his shoulders, coming to a stop at the tattoo on his chest. Her fingertips drifted over the shape, (her eyes closed as her tongue tangled with his) like she had memorized the design after years of doodling it, following the patterns perfectly. Sam tightened his grip on her hair, eliciting a whimper from the back of her throat.
Lao-tyen.
Ruby watched from outside Sam’s motel room, her arms crossed over her chest, her dark hair falling in waves over her shoulders. Her eyes narrowed, watching Sam and this girl sleep. It was disgusting, watching Sam succumb to someone he met two hours ago. Then again, this wasn’t the same Sam.
Ruby shook her head, moving away from the window, her boots clicking against the pavement. From inside the motel room River watched her go, watched her disappear into the black then turned her eyes onto Sam.
Finished.