Request Fic No. 1---- There Is No Spoon (Supernatural) for dragonsinger
There Is No Spoon
by Tracy (lunarknightz)
Rating: PG
Category: Gen.
Summary: Sam's learning how to control his abilities.
Spoilers: "Nightmare".
Disclaimer: I own nothing about Supernatural, except a great deal of lust for its' stars.
Sam took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and tried to find his center. Another deep breath, and he pictured the spoon sitting in front of him. In his mind, he made it move, he made it twirl in the air, spinning at a furious pace.
He opened one eye slightly to check on his progress.
The spoon was sitting perfectly still on the bed. It hadn’t moved an inch.
With a deep sigh, he closed his eyes again, and tried to concentrate.
Maybe he should use a mantra. Mantras were made for these kinds of situations, right? Shit. He didn’t have a mantra. What could he say, what string of words would help get his mind into the zone where he could channel his powers?
Inspiration struck.
“I am a leaf on the wind.” He said softly. “Watch how I soar.” Growing in confidence, Sam repeated the phrase.
“Whatever you do, dude, don’t say that in the Impala.”
Sam’s eyes popped open, the aura of calm he had drawn around himself shattered by his older brother. “What in the hell are you talking about?”
“Do you think I have the money it costs to fix the windshield? I’m not made of money, Sammy boy.” Dean stopped in front of Sam, holding a paper McDonald’s bag. “Are you still trying to get that damn spoon to move? If you haven’t gotten it to move by now, you should give up.” Dean leaned down and grabbed the spoon with his free hand, and threw it across the room. “Relax. See? There is no spoon.”
Sam rolled his eyes. “Did you get what I asked for?” He asked, grabbing the McDonald’s bag out of Dean’s hand. “Hey, where are my fries?”
“Like I said, Sammy, I’m not made of money. Our cash flow is seriously low at the moment. There just wasn’t enough dough to get fries for both of us.”
“Oh come on. I counted the money before you left. You should have had plenty to get at least one order.”
“And I did.” Dean shrugged.
“You ate them?” Sam growled, throwing the McDonald’s bag down on the bed. “That’s not fair!”
“Hey, I suck at sharing. Deal with it.”
“You haven’t changed a bit. You’re still the same stupid, arrogant asshole you’ve always been Dean. Mine, Mine, Mine! Honestly, Dean! Why do you get to eat high off the hog, and I’m stuck with the dollar menu?” He fumed.
“Look, Sam…”
The McDonald’s bag flew up off the bed, and smacked into Dean’s face with a dizzying amount of strength. The impact threw Dean off balance, and he fell backwards.
“Dean!” Sam exclaimed, and ran to his side. “Are you okay?”
Dean sat up, rubbing his forehead. “I just got clocked by a McDonald’s bag, Sammy. How in the hell do you think I am?”
“I’m sorry.”
Dean was silent for a second. “Before I go and get the equipment from the car…was that you?”
“I think so.”
“That’s kind of cool.” Dean smirked. “I guess Fast Food is dangerous. Clog your arteries, nothing.”
Sam chuckled. “I guess.”
“Just think, if you teamed up with Ronald McDonald, you could stop the apocalypse.”
“Dean….”
“Or that creepy Burger King guy…hell, if you had him on your side, you could like, rule the galaxy. He's scarier than Darth Vader on a bad day.”
“Please stop.”
“And that Wendy character? Rrrooowrr. Get her in a bikini and…”
“You are seriously damaging my calm.” Sam sighed. “Besides, if I can’t control this power, it’s pretty much useless.”
“I wouldn’t say that.” Dean chuckled. “From now on, you will always get fries when you want them.”
“I could hurt somebody, Dean! Or kill them, or do something bad with these powers. If I don’t know how to control them, how do I know they won’t control me.”
“Calm down, grasshopper.” Dean said, going over to the ice bucket and taking out a chunk of ice, which he then applied to the slightly raised area on his forehead. “So think about the times you’ve embraced your inner Carrie. Anything similar?”
“In the Miller house….it was after I had the vision of your death. This time, I was so freaking pissed off at you…”
“So, basically, I’m the key.”
“Well, not in a Buffy the Vampire Slayer type way…”
“Look, Sammy. Has there been any big bad out there that we haven’t been able to tackle? We’ll get through this. Together. We’re brothers.”
“You think so?”
“Dude, I’m like your own personal Obi-Wan Kenobi. I know so.”
“I thought you were Han Solo.”
“Or, I can be like Mr. Miyagi. Wax on, wax off. And you could wax the Impala while you’re practicing your skills.” Dean said with a sigh, plopping down on the single bed across from Sam.
Sam smiled slightly, and plopped down on his own bed. He opened the McDonald’s bag and took out his burger. Sam quickly took a bite.
“This is cold.”
“So, heat it up.”
“I’m not the Human Torch, Dean.”
“There’s a microwave on the counter, stupid.”
by Tracy (lunarknightz)
Rating: PG
Category: Gen.
Summary: Sam's learning how to control his abilities.
Spoilers: "Nightmare".
Disclaimer: I own nothing about Supernatural, except a great deal of lust for its' stars.
Sam took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and tried to find his center. Another deep breath, and he pictured the spoon sitting in front of him. In his mind, he made it move, he made it twirl in the air, spinning at a furious pace.
He opened one eye slightly to check on his progress.
The spoon was sitting perfectly still on the bed. It hadn’t moved an inch.
With a deep sigh, he closed his eyes again, and tried to concentrate.
Maybe he should use a mantra. Mantras were made for these kinds of situations, right? Shit. He didn’t have a mantra. What could he say, what string of words would help get his mind into the zone where he could channel his powers?
Inspiration struck.
“I am a leaf on the wind.” He said softly. “Watch how I soar.” Growing in confidence, Sam repeated the phrase.
“Whatever you do, dude, don’t say that in the Impala.”
Sam’s eyes popped open, the aura of calm he had drawn around himself shattered by his older brother. “What in the hell are you talking about?”
“Do you think I have the money it costs to fix the windshield? I’m not made of money, Sammy boy.” Dean stopped in front of Sam, holding a paper McDonald’s bag. “Are you still trying to get that damn spoon to move? If you haven’t gotten it to move by now, you should give up.” Dean leaned down and grabbed the spoon with his free hand, and threw it across the room. “Relax. See? There is no spoon.”
Sam rolled his eyes. “Did you get what I asked for?” He asked, grabbing the McDonald’s bag out of Dean’s hand. “Hey, where are my fries?”
“Like I said, Sammy, I’m not made of money. Our cash flow is seriously low at the moment. There just wasn’t enough dough to get fries for both of us.”
“Oh come on. I counted the money before you left. You should have had plenty to get at least one order.”
“And I did.” Dean shrugged.
“You ate them?” Sam growled, throwing the McDonald’s bag down on the bed. “That’s not fair!”
“Hey, I suck at sharing. Deal with it.”
“You haven’t changed a bit. You’re still the same stupid, arrogant asshole you’ve always been Dean. Mine, Mine, Mine! Honestly, Dean! Why do you get to eat high off the hog, and I’m stuck with the dollar menu?” He fumed.
“Look, Sam…”
The McDonald’s bag flew up off the bed, and smacked into Dean’s face with a dizzying amount of strength. The impact threw Dean off balance, and he fell backwards.
“Dean!” Sam exclaimed, and ran to his side. “Are you okay?”
Dean sat up, rubbing his forehead. “I just got clocked by a McDonald’s bag, Sammy. How in the hell do you think I am?”
“I’m sorry.”
Dean was silent for a second. “Before I go and get the equipment from the car…was that you?”
“I think so.”
“That’s kind of cool.” Dean smirked. “I guess Fast Food is dangerous. Clog your arteries, nothing.”
Sam chuckled. “I guess.”
“Just think, if you teamed up with Ronald McDonald, you could stop the apocalypse.”
“Dean….”
“Or that creepy Burger King guy…hell, if you had him on your side, you could like, rule the galaxy. He's scarier than Darth Vader on a bad day.”
“Please stop.”
“And that Wendy character? Rrrooowrr. Get her in a bikini and…”
“You are seriously damaging my calm.” Sam sighed. “Besides, if I can’t control this power, it’s pretty much useless.”
“I wouldn’t say that.” Dean chuckled. “From now on, you will always get fries when you want them.”
“I could hurt somebody, Dean! Or kill them, or do something bad with these powers. If I don’t know how to control them, how do I know they won’t control me.”
“Calm down, grasshopper.” Dean said, going over to the ice bucket and taking out a chunk of ice, which he then applied to the slightly raised area on his forehead. “So think about the times you’ve embraced your inner Carrie. Anything similar?”
“In the Miller house….it was after I had the vision of your death. This time, I was so freaking pissed off at you…”
“So, basically, I’m the key.”
“Well, not in a Buffy the Vampire Slayer type way…”
“Look, Sammy. Has there been any big bad out there that we haven’t been able to tackle? We’ll get through this. Together. We’re brothers.”
“You think so?”
“Dude, I’m like your own personal Obi-Wan Kenobi. I know so.”
“I thought you were Han Solo.”
“Or, I can be like Mr. Miyagi. Wax on, wax off. And you could wax the Impala while you’re practicing your skills.” Dean said with a sigh, plopping down on the single bed across from Sam.
Sam smiled slightly, and plopped down on his own bed. He opened the McDonald’s bag and took out his burger. Sam quickly took a bite.
“This is cold.”
“So, heat it up.”
“I’m not the Human Torch, Dean.”
“There’s a microwave on the counter, stupid.”