SPN Fic - "Afterparty"
Title: Afterparty
Author: mad_server
Characters: Sam, Dean, Ellen, Bobby
Genre/pairing: Ellen/Bobby
Rating: R
Word-count: 1000
Spoilers: 6.17, kinda
A/N: Happy super-late birthday Vanessa! I picked this as a prompt.
Summary: Sam and Dean are late to the party, er, hunt. Dean's sick and hurt.
Disclaimer: Yeahhhh.
In Deming, New Mexico, Sam lies still on his bed and savors the feel of straight legs. The thin curtains are shut but the entrance is wide open and noontime August heat is rolling in. Sam smacks at a mosquito and considers getting up to close the door.
Dean beats him to it, drifting in with a bucket of ice and nudging the barrier into place with his hip. Pausing in the near dark, he takes a few noisy breaths. He goes to the air conditioner, frowns at it for long seconds and then turns it on. There's an ominous series of clunks before the white noise kicks in, cold air blowing over Sam's face. Sam groans with pleasure.
He watches Dean get himself a towel from the bathroom, pour in the ice and wrap the whole thing over the elbow he fucked up in Tucson in the night. Dean's ass makes contact with his own bed and he lets out a grunt, then kicks off his boots and lowers himself flat. The sigh that comes out his nose triggers Sam, whose eyelids droop in response. They're doing a synchronized yawn when Dean's phone blasts them awake.
"Mm?"
Sam watches Dean through diligently blinking eyes as he makes a series of noises into the cell. When Dean hangs up, he lies still, phone in hand. Sam's tongue can't quite form the words to ask who it was. Then Dean's puffing and moaning upright, shaking Sam's ankle.
"C'mon." Dean's voice sounds rough and sore. "You can sleep in the car."
Sam gets his elbows under him, wobbles and squints. "But we just checked in."
"Yeah, and now we're checking out."
:::
Bobby looks a bit drunk as he stands up across the Oklahoma pub and waves to Sam and Dean. A band is covering pop songs of the 90s and Dean scowls at them as they cross the bar, kneading his forehead. He looks a bit drunk himself, flopping into the booth next to Ellen while Sam drops down beside Bobby. Sam watches him settle, then spots a plate with a crumpled napkin on it. He hopes the kitchen's still open.
Bobby peers at the tensor bandage on Dean’s elbow, sandy brows knitting. "Well well, look what the cat dragged in."
"I don't wanna know how fast you drove," Ellen scolds as she pours Dean a beer from their pitcher. She shunts another to Sam, emptying the jug.
“Not fast enough, apparently,” Sam manages around a slurp of lager.
"Hey, at least we made the after party, right?" Dean looks at his glass like it’s too heavy to lift, rubs something out of his eye. "It’s my favorite part anyway."
“Sorry for the false alarm, boys.” Bobby considers Dean a moment longer, then adjusts his hat. "There we were, thinkin' we were so sneaky. Sons o' bitches jumped us at the motel while we were plannin' our attack."
Ellen sits forward, eyes sparkling. "This old coot exorcised five of 'em at once."
"I seem to recall somebody keepin' 'em at bay by breathing holy fire at 'em." Bobby's flushed with more than beer. He wags a finger at the Winchesters. “It was a sight to behold.”
"It was just a little holy oil." Ellen's hand finds Bobby's across the table and they smile at each other like a couple of goofs. Dean makes a gagging face at Sam.
"So what were they up to, anyway?” Sam scans the bar for a waitress.
Bobby drags his gaze off his wife. "It was the damnedest thing."
"They broke into the university observatory," Ellen says. "They were lookin' out into space."
Goosebumps break out on Sam's arms. "Space?"
"What were they doing?" Dean digs a finger in underneath his bandage, bangs the swollen joint on the table. He grunts. "Looking for little green men?"
"We don't know." Bobby's hand plays up and down his pint. "We were thinkin' maybe..."
"What?"
Bobby grimaces and downs his beer. "Don't laugh." He sits up straight. "Purgatory."
Dean breaks out in a violent, rattling cough. He wipes his mouth on his wrist, eyebrows up. "You think they were looking for purgatory? In space?"
"They weren't exactly the sharing-and-caring types." Ellen looks hotly from Dean to Sam. "All we know is, they wanted a look at that telescope pretty damn bad."
Dean snuffles. "Better purgatory than alien demons." He shuts his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose, sinks deeper into the padded pleather of the booth. "Although that woulda been kinda badass."
"Honey, you feelin' all right?"
"Nothing a little sleep won't fix." He chokes again though and coughs explosively into his shoulder. Ellen's palm covers his forehead and she frowns at Sam, then at Bobby.
"Sweetie, you got a fever. Let's get you a room so you can crash, huh?" Dean's wheezing evens out and he stills, lets Ellen pull him down into a cuddle and kiss his hair. "Sam Winchester, you look out for your brother, you hear?"
Dean points at Sam and grins a wan, smug grin from where he's tucked under Ellen's chin. Sam rolls his eyes and scratches his nose with his middle finger.
:::
"Maybe it's clowns," Dean croaks from the bathroom floor, pressing a washcloth into his eyes. "Evil demonic space clowns."
"What?" Sam watches him from the end of the bed, upright because if he lies down, he's gone.
"Space clowns. That the demons were talking to."
Sam blinks into the fluorescent bathroom. "Did your fever go up? Should I be worried?"
Dean fumbles at the toilet paper roll hanging on the wall, tears some down and delicately bends his bad elbow to blow his nose. "Nah. I'm just messin' with you."
Sam sighs.
:::
Bobby hovers by the bed, a roll of magazines in hand as Ellen sits beside Dean and strokes back his hair.
"Soon as you feel well enough, you come straight on up to Sioux Falls. I'll get some meat back on those bones."
Dean looks half-mesmerized as he watches her face, sniffles. "Yes ma’am."
"Thought you might be able to use these.” Bobby spreads the glossy pages across the quilt and pats Dean’s thigh. Dean blinks at them dizzily.
"Thanks, Bobby." Sam claps him on the shoulder, returns Ellen's hug. "See you soon.”
:::
When the comet appears, Dean's dozing on Bobby's couch. The night air's heavy with the smell of cut grass. Ellen and Sam and Bobby peer up into the sky and wonder.
:::
end
Author: mad_server
Characters: Sam, Dean, Ellen, Bobby
Genre/pairing: Ellen/Bobby
Rating: R
Word-count: 1000
Spoilers: 6.17, kinda
A/N: Happy super-late birthday Vanessa! I picked this as a prompt.
Summary: Sam and Dean are late to the party, er, hunt. Dean's sick and hurt.
Disclaimer: Yeahhhh.
In Deming, New Mexico, Sam lies still on his bed and savors the feel of straight legs. The thin curtains are shut but the entrance is wide open and noontime August heat is rolling in. Sam smacks at a mosquito and considers getting up to close the door.
Dean beats him to it, drifting in with a bucket of ice and nudging the barrier into place with his hip. Pausing in the near dark, he takes a few noisy breaths. He goes to the air conditioner, frowns at it for long seconds and then turns it on. There's an ominous series of clunks before the white noise kicks in, cold air blowing over Sam's face. Sam groans with pleasure.
He watches Dean get himself a towel from the bathroom, pour in the ice and wrap the whole thing over the elbow he fucked up in Tucson in the night. Dean's ass makes contact with his own bed and he lets out a grunt, then kicks off his boots and lowers himself flat. The sigh that comes out his nose triggers Sam, whose eyelids droop in response. They're doing a synchronized yawn when Dean's phone blasts them awake.
"Mm?"
Sam watches Dean through diligently blinking eyes as he makes a series of noises into the cell. When Dean hangs up, he lies still, phone in hand. Sam's tongue can't quite form the words to ask who it was. Then Dean's puffing and moaning upright, shaking Sam's ankle.
"C'mon." Dean's voice sounds rough and sore. "You can sleep in the car."
Sam gets his elbows under him, wobbles and squints. "But we just checked in."
"Yeah, and now we're checking out."
:::
Bobby looks a bit drunk as he stands up across the Oklahoma pub and waves to Sam and Dean. A band is covering pop songs of the 90s and Dean scowls at them as they cross the bar, kneading his forehead. He looks a bit drunk himself, flopping into the booth next to Ellen while Sam drops down beside Bobby. Sam watches him settle, then spots a plate with a crumpled napkin on it. He hopes the kitchen's still open.
Bobby peers at the tensor bandage on Dean’s elbow, sandy brows knitting. "Well well, look what the cat dragged in."
"I don't wanna know how fast you drove," Ellen scolds as she pours Dean a beer from their pitcher. She shunts another to Sam, emptying the jug.
“Not fast enough, apparently,” Sam manages around a slurp of lager.
"Hey, at least we made the after party, right?" Dean looks at his glass like it’s too heavy to lift, rubs something out of his eye. "It’s my favorite part anyway."
“Sorry for the false alarm, boys.” Bobby considers Dean a moment longer, then adjusts his hat. "There we were, thinkin' we were so sneaky. Sons o' bitches jumped us at the motel while we were plannin' our attack."
Ellen sits forward, eyes sparkling. "This old coot exorcised five of 'em at once."
"I seem to recall somebody keepin' 'em at bay by breathing holy fire at 'em." Bobby's flushed with more than beer. He wags a finger at the Winchesters. “It was a sight to behold.”
"It was just a little holy oil." Ellen's hand finds Bobby's across the table and they smile at each other like a couple of goofs. Dean makes a gagging face at Sam.
"So what were they up to, anyway?” Sam scans the bar for a waitress.
Bobby drags his gaze off his wife. "It was the damnedest thing."
"They broke into the university observatory," Ellen says. "They were lookin' out into space."
Goosebumps break out on Sam's arms. "Space?"
"What were they doing?" Dean digs a finger in underneath his bandage, bangs the swollen joint on the table. He grunts. "Looking for little green men?"
"We don't know." Bobby's hand plays up and down his pint. "We were thinkin' maybe..."
"What?"
Bobby grimaces and downs his beer. "Don't laugh." He sits up straight. "Purgatory."
Dean breaks out in a violent, rattling cough. He wipes his mouth on his wrist, eyebrows up. "You think they were looking for purgatory? In space?"
"They weren't exactly the sharing-and-caring types." Ellen looks hotly from Dean to Sam. "All we know is, they wanted a look at that telescope pretty damn bad."
Dean snuffles. "Better purgatory than alien demons." He shuts his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose, sinks deeper into the padded pleather of the booth. "Although that woulda been kinda badass."
"Honey, you feelin' all right?"
"Nothing a little sleep won't fix." He chokes again though and coughs explosively into his shoulder. Ellen's palm covers his forehead and she frowns at Sam, then at Bobby.
"Sweetie, you got a fever. Let's get you a room so you can crash, huh?" Dean's wheezing evens out and he stills, lets Ellen pull him down into a cuddle and kiss his hair. "Sam Winchester, you look out for your brother, you hear?"
Dean points at Sam and grins a wan, smug grin from where he's tucked under Ellen's chin. Sam rolls his eyes and scratches his nose with his middle finger.
:::
"Maybe it's clowns," Dean croaks from the bathroom floor, pressing a washcloth into his eyes. "Evil demonic space clowns."
"What?" Sam watches him from the end of the bed, upright because if he lies down, he's gone.
"Space clowns. That the demons were talking to."
Sam blinks into the fluorescent bathroom. "Did your fever go up? Should I be worried?"
Dean fumbles at the toilet paper roll hanging on the wall, tears some down and delicately bends his bad elbow to blow his nose. "Nah. I'm just messin' with you."
Sam sighs.
:::
Bobby hovers by the bed, a roll of magazines in hand as Ellen sits beside Dean and strokes back his hair.
"Soon as you feel well enough, you come straight on up to Sioux Falls. I'll get some meat back on those bones."
Dean looks half-mesmerized as he watches her face, sniffles. "Yes ma’am."
"Thought you might be able to use these.” Bobby spreads the glossy pages across the quilt and pats Dean’s thigh. Dean blinks at them dizzily.
"Thanks, Bobby." Sam claps him on the shoulder, returns Ellen's hug. "See you soon.”
:::
When the comet appears, Dean's dozing on Bobby's couch. The night air's heavy with the smell of cut grass. Ellen and Sam and Bobby peer up into the sky and wonder.
:::
end