SPN/DA Fic: Aftershock Seven
Title: One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six - Aftershock Seven - Eight, Nine, Ten, Eleven, Twelve, Thirteen, Fourteen, Fifteen & Sixteen
Also: Minor Tremors parts One & Two
accompaniment(s) to: With a Bang
Author: Mink
Rating: SPN/DA Crossover - PG - Gen - AU in the year 2020
Spoilers: General (for all aired episodes)
Disclaimers: SPN & DA & characters are owned by their various creators.
Summary: Sam POV. Waiting around for the kid to come home from his very first hunt is hard to do.
Sam’s father had always emphasized the importance of owning a landline telephone.
The communication satellites might scramble and the electricity could fizzle out, but the rotary jacked into the wall rarely let a man down. Glancing over at the small pile of what was left of his cell phone, Sam pressed down harder on the ballpoint pen and almost ripped through the paper. His dad had also been a big proponent of the written word. Sam had never gotten out of the habit of longhand, but the glow of a laptop usually lit up his desk along with the lamp.
He shook out his hand to avoid cramping up.
All his technology had recently been dismantled and reassembled in the guts of the television downstairs. The monitor now was tuned into a broadcast of soap operas, reality networks, and everything else in between that could fit in some ad space. There was even international porn. Sam had had a whole entire week to himself to discover all 34 languages it came in.
He looked over at the old phone that usually sat in the kitchen.
Dean checked in everyday at midnight as per usual but Sam found himself wishing the routine call would come earlier and more often. He also wanted a little more than his brother’s brief summarization of events. Sam strung the last few days worth of updates in his head and played them over and over until it felt like a weird poem:
Found the crematorium and dodged the fuzz.
Bullet holes in the car but none in me.
Saw a tornado off the freeway.
Big chunk of hail cracked the back window.
Be back on Friday.
Don’t wait up.
Sam sighed.
Friday had come and gone and it was way past midnight.
Flipping a page in the ledger, he tried to refocus attention on the task at hand. He’d been asked to say a few words at a burial for an elderly woman who’d passed away in her sleep at a hospice in town. There was no family to speak of so that meant no wake. All Sam had to do was deliver a short service over the casket and hand some cash to the cemetery caretaker.
The harsh ring of the telephone startled him.
“Dean?”
”Thought I told you not to wait up.”
“You didn’t call today.”
”This new cell is a piece of crap.”
“Perhaps you’ve heard of a thing called a pay phone?”
”Yeah, they’re lined up on the side of the road next to all the unicorns.”
“Where are you?”
Sam heard the rumble of the car outside just as Dean hung up.
He had already planned how he wouldn’t get up and meet them at the door. One look at his watch and he cursed under his breath. It would have looked a lot better if he’d been in bed, pretending to sleep and not sitting around like some-
“Sam!” Alec called out. “Hey! We’re back!”
Sam jumped when his mind was suddenly slammed with a jumble of thoughts that weren't his. It was the first time he was aware of Alec using their connection for a simple and convenient use. The inquisitive touch had come out of nowhere and felt as good as running full speed into a brick wall in the dark. With much more care, Sam reached out and gently pushed Alec back with an image of his location.
Alec changed his direction and was headed up the stairs.
A wave of good mood flashed in Sam’s head like the aftershock of a flash bulb. Sam lay down his pen as he felt Alec presence come in loud and clear. There was excitement and some relief. There was elation and anxiety. Even though the hunt was completed over a day ago the boy’s heart was pounding like it had just happened. Sam closed the ledger and turned around just as his son reached the doorway.
“I tried to call you all night but it’s hard to get a signal out.”
Sam wasn’t sure if Alec meant the phone or everything that was flickering inside his head.
“It’s okay,” Sam assured him. “I’ve been pretty busy.”
“The trip went great,” Alec stepped into the dim lamplight. “We totally kicked ass.”
Sam swallowed hard when he saw the bruises. He was up and out of his chair before he could think about it. Alec’s happy expression faltered for a moment and Sam suddenly wished he’d changed his clothes. He totally forgot he was still dressed for the evening mass.
“Y-You should have been there,” Alec said. “We were going to just hang a cat head on a tree and call it a day but the thing came out! Right out of the ground! Dean told me to let it go but I chased that mother into the woods and-“
“What happened to your face?” Sam turned Alec’s face from side to side. “Are you all right?”
“Yeah, I’m fine, just listen? ” Alec shrugged out of his grip. “I chased the thing into the woods and it tried to lose me but no way. I caught up after a half mile and then I-”
“And then Alec nailed the son of a bitch right between the eyes.”
“Thanks a lot,” Alec frowned at his uncle. “I was tellin’ it.”
“Sounds exciting,” Sam didn’t like the size of Dean's smile. “I was told that this hunt was only going to require a cleansing ritual.”
“What can I say?” Dean said. “The kid is an awesome shot.”
“I dragged it back and then we burned it,” Alec said. “It smelled like popcorn.”
“He did most of the work,” Dean slumped into a overstuffed chair in the corner. “Next time I think I’ll just wait in the car.”
Sam took Alec’s chin again and examined the row of stitches curving down his cheek. “Are there more of these?”
“I didn’t get them hunting,” Alec quickly explained. “I kinda got them somewhere else.”
Sam blinked down at him in confusion.
“I kinda went through a second story window.”
“He kinda got tossed through a second story window.” Dean amended.
“In the woods?”
“No, no,” Alec said. “In the bar.”
“Oh yeah, the kid can put away whiskey about as fast as he can run,” Dean said. “You might wanna check him for tattoos too.”
“We were celebrating,” Alec’s grin twisted the stitches almost sideways. “On a job well done.”
Sam pulled up both sleeves and found a few more lacerations that had Dean’s neat suture work on them.
“You should have been there,” Alec repeated as he tugged his arms away. “It came right out of the ground. Like a … like a…”
“Like a ghost?” Dean helpfully provided.
“Yeah,” Alec’s grin faded as he abruptly switched gears. “I’m pretty tired.”
The flutter of his son’s agitated thoughts quieted and began to recede out of his own. But Sam nudged the flow between them back to life, searching for anything else that was being kept hidden away. Any sign of pain or fear. Anything at all that would require him to inform his son that there would never be another trip out into the woods ever again.
Alec stumbled backwards into the doorframe when Sam pushed it a little too hard. “Quit it,” he rubbed at his forehead. “I said I’m fine.”
Sam felt a dull pain as Alec shut the link down himself, severing it with an involuntary burst of force. He heard Dean groan behind him and knew his brother had got hit with it too. Alec looked flustered before he turned around and headed for the hallway.
“G-Goodnight, Sam.”
He was gone up the attic steps.
“What the hell was that?” Dean asked.
“So what about you?” Sam changed the subject. “You go through any windows?”
His brother studied him for a moment. “Nope. I’m perfect.”
“You’re limping.”
“You should see the other guy,” Dean glanced at the ledger sitting closed on the desk. “Anything new around here?”
“A woman died.”
Digging around in his jacket pockets, Dean got up with a yawn. He pulled out a new cell phone and dropped it in Sam’s hands. “When’s the party?”
“In the morning at Saint Marks. And you’re looking at the party. She had no next of kin.”
“Good.”
“Excuse me?”
“Then I don’t have to bother with a tie.”
“You don’t have to come.”
“Someone has to listen to your ode,” Dean shrugged. “And I gotta be up early anyway.”
“It starts at 6AM.”
“Jesus fucking Christ.”
“Amen.”
“Slap me awake after you make the coffee.”
Sam sagged back into his seat and listened to his brother move with uneven steps down the stairs. The attic floorboards stopped creaking above his head and he knew Alec had gone to bed too. He powered up the wireless phone, intrigued and slightly annoyed by the new display and different color. Dean had already reentered their contacts into the memory and placed himself on the top of the menu next to a strange toll free number.
Despite his better instincts, Sam automatically spelled out what it said from the letters on the keypad.
1-800-EAT-SHIT
He was glad he was all by himself again.
It seemed like an inappropriate day to laugh out loud.
go to part 8
Also: Minor Tremors parts One & Two
accompaniment(s) to: With a Bang
Author: Mink
Rating: SPN/DA Crossover - PG - Gen - AU in the year 2020
Spoilers: General (for all aired episodes)
Disclaimers: SPN & DA & characters are owned by their various creators.
Summary: Sam POV. Waiting around for the kid to come home from his very first hunt is hard to do.
Sam’s father had always emphasized the importance of owning a landline telephone.
The communication satellites might scramble and the electricity could fizzle out, but the rotary jacked into the wall rarely let a man down. Glancing over at the small pile of what was left of his cell phone, Sam pressed down harder on the ballpoint pen and almost ripped through the paper. His dad had also been a big proponent of the written word. Sam had never gotten out of the habit of longhand, but the glow of a laptop usually lit up his desk along with the lamp.
He shook out his hand to avoid cramping up.
All his technology had recently been dismantled and reassembled in the guts of the television downstairs. The monitor now was tuned into a broadcast of soap operas, reality networks, and everything else in between that could fit in some ad space. There was even international porn. Sam had had a whole entire week to himself to discover all 34 languages it came in.
He looked over at the old phone that usually sat in the kitchen.
Dean checked in everyday at midnight as per usual but Sam found himself wishing the routine call would come earlier and more often. He also wanted a little more than his brother’s brief summarization of events. Sam strung the last few days worth of updates in his head and played them over and over until it felt like a weird poem:
Found the crematorium and dodged the fuzz.
Bullet holes in the car but none in me.
Saw a tornado off the freeway.
Big chunk of hail cracked the back window.
Be back on Friday.
Don’t wait up.
Sam sighed.
Friday had come and gone and it was way past midnight.
Flipping a page in the ledger, he tried to refocus attention on the task at hand. He’d been asked to say a few words at a burial for an elderly woman who’d passed away in her sleep at a hospice in town. There was no family to speak of so that meant no wake. All Sam had to do was deliver a short service over the casket and hand some cash to the cemetery caretaker.
The harsh ring of the telephone startled him.
“Dean?”
”Thought I told you not to wait up.”
“You didn’t call today.”
”This new cell is a piece of crap.”
“Perhaps you’ve heard of a thing called a pay phone?”
”Yeah, they’re lined up on the side of the road next to all the unicorns.”
“Where are you?”
Sam heard the rumble of the car outside just as Dean hung up.
He had already planned how he wouldn’t get up and meet them at the door. One look at his watch and he cursed under his breath. It would have looked a lot better if he’d been in bed, pretending to sleep and not sitting around like some-
“Sam!” Alec called out. “Hey! We’re back!”
Sam jumped when his mind was suddenly slammed with a jumble of thoughts that weren't his. It was the first time he was aware of Alec using their connection for a simple and convenient use. The inquisitive touch had come out of nowhere and felt as good as running full speed into a brick wall in the dark. With much more care, Sam reached out and gently pushed Alec back with an image of his location.
Alec changed his direction and was headed up the stairs.
A wave of good mood flashed in Sam’s head like the aftershock of a flash bulb. Sam lay down his pen as he felt Alec presence come in loud and clear. There was excitement and some relief. There was elation and anxiety. Even though the hunt was completed over a day ago the boy’s heart was pounding like it had just happened. Sam closed the ledger and turned around just as his son reached the doorway.
“I tried to call you all night but it’s hard to get a signal out.”
Sam wasn’t sure if Alec meant the phone or everything that was flickering inside his head.
“It’s okay,” Sam assured him. “I’ve been pretty busy.”
“The trip went great,” Alec stepped into the dim lamplight. “We totally kicked ass.”
Sam swallowed hard when he saw the bruises. He was up and out of his chair before he could think about it. Alec’s happy expression faltered for a moment and Sam suddenly wished he’d changed his clothes. He totally forgot he was still dressed for the evening mass.
“Y-You should have been there,” Alec said. “We were going to just hang a cat head on a tree and call it a day but the thing came out! Right out of the ground! Dean told me to let it go but I chased that mother into the woods and-“
“What happened to your face?” Sam turned Alec’s face from side to side. “Are you all right?”
“Yeah, I’m fine, just listen? ” Alec shrugged out of his grip. “I chased the thing into the woods and it tried to lose me but no way. I caught up after a half mile and then I-”
“And then Alec nailed the son of a bitch right between the eyes.”
“Thanks a lot,” Alec frowned at his uncle. “I was tellin’ it.”
“Sounds exciting,” Sam didn’t like the size of Dean's smile. “I was told that this hunt was only going to require a cleansing ritual.”
“What can I say?” Dean said. “The kid is an awesome shot.”
“I dragged it back and then we burned it,” Alec said. “It smelled like popcorn.”
“He did most of the work,” Dean slumped into a overstuffed chair in the corner. “Next time I think I’ll just wait in the car.”
Sam took Alec’s chin again and examined the row of stitches curving down his cheek. “Are there more of these?”
“I didn’t get them hunting,” Alec quickly explained. “I kinda got them somewhere else.”
Sam blinked down at him in confusion.
“I kinda went through a second story window.”
“He kinda got tossed through a second story window.” Dean amended.
“In the woods?”
“No, no,” Alec said. “In the bar.”
“Oh yeah, the kid can put away whiskey about as fast as he can run,” Dean said. “You might wanna check him for tattoos too.”
“We were celebrating,” Alec’s grin twisted the stitches almost sideways. “On a job well done.”
Sam pulled up both sleeves and found a few more lacerations that had Dean’s neat suture work on them.
“You should have been there,” Alec repeated as he tugged his arms away. “It came right out of the ground. Like a … like a…”
“Like a ghost?” Dean helpfully provided.
“Yeah,” Alec’s grin faded as he abruptly switched gears. “I’m pretty tired.”
The flutter of his son’s agitated thoughts quieted and began to recede out of his own. But Sam nudged the flow between them back to life, searching for anything else that was being kept hidden away. Any sign of pain or fear. Anything at all that would require him to inform his son that there would never be another trip out into the woods ever again.
Alec stumbled backwards into the doorframe when Sam pushed it a little too hard. “Quit it,” he rubbed at his forehead. “I said I’m fine.”
Sam felt a dull pain as Alec shut the link down himself, severing it with an involuntary burst of force. He heard Dean groan behind him and knew his brother had got hit with it too. Alec looked flustered before he turned around and headed for the hallway.
“G-Goodnight, Sam.”
He was gone up the attic steps.
“What the hell was that?” Dean asked.
“So what about you?” Sam changed the subject. “You go through any windows?”
His brother studied him for a moment. “Nope. I’m perfect.”
“You’re limping.”
“You should see the other guy,” Dean glanced at the ledger sitting closed on the desk. “Anything new around here?”
“A woman died.”
Digging around in his jacket pockets, Dean got up with a yawn. He pulled out a new cell phone and dropped it in Sam’s hands. “When’s the party?”
“In the morning at Saint Marks. And you’re looking at the party. She had no next of kin.”
“Good.”
“Excuse me?”
“Then I don’t have to bother with a tie.”
“You don’t have to come.”
“Someone has to listen to your ode,” Dean shrugged. “And I gotta be up early anyway.”
“It starts at 6AM.”
“Jesus fucking Christ.”
“Amen.”
“Slap me awake after you make the coffee.”
Sam sagged back into his seat and listened to his brother move with uneven steps down the stairs. The attic floorboards stopped creaking above his head and he knew Alec had gone to bed too. He powered up the wireless phone, intrigued and slightly annoyed by the new display and different color. Dean had already reentered their contacts into the memory and placed himself on the top of the menu next to a strange toll free number.
Despite his better instincts, Sam automatically spelled out what it said from the letters on the keypad.
1-800-EAT-SHIT
He was glad he was all by himself again.
It seemed like an inappropriate day to laugh out loud.
go to part 8