SPN/DA Fic: (Minor Tremor 13)

Apr 17, 2012 19:59

Title: (Minor Tremor 1) - (Minor Tremor 2) - (Minor Tremor 3) - (Minor Tremor 4) - (Minor Tremor 5) - (Minor Tremor 6) - (Minor Tremor 7) - (Minor Tremor 8) - (Minor Tremor 9) - (Minor Tremor 10) - (Minor Tremor 11) - (Minor Tremor 12) - (Minor Tremor 13) - (Minor Tremor 14)
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: Alec POV. Dean Everything is not always okay.
Reading this other one helps but not required:
http://minkmix.livejournal.com/160712.html



Alec had a fucking headache.

Not one of those headaches some chick talked about whilst discussing feminine freshness with her mom on a beach, but a full out raging agony that was making it difficult to get his key in the lock of the front door. It banged opened on the opposite wall with as much volume as his carefully phrased curse words for whoever the hell had actually used the lock.

“Hey!” Alec called out. “What are you afraid of? That the roaming cows will infiltrate your wards and all that goat blood on the ceiling. Which is unsanitary by the way!”

There was no answer.

Usually, Sam would mumble a shout from his office or leave a text if he was out. If any of that failed his dad and him had that mind thing which worked out better than any other amped out sense Alec owned. It wasn’t talking so much as it was… Alec liked to think of it as mental post-it notes. Vague, semi-incoherent and usually fluttering around the room.

So Sam wasn’t home. Fine. But he sort of wanted food that he didn’t have to make himself. Like right now.

“Dean?”

With a groan he sagged down on the couch and held his head. It took two days to put back the satellite dish. And it worked. Alec’s shoulders hitched in a laugh. The assembled crowd (12 old guys that hung out fishing at the creek) said he couldn’t get it hummming again, but he did, he got that mother back and ready to go-- Alec was suddenly distracted by the sight out of the window. The cars were in the driveway. All three cars, one of them being a truck but Sam got rides from the locals all the time. The locals liked it. They were constantly coming over with fresh muffins which no one in this house argued was a bad thing.

But something was up. He could feel it like when he was on a hunt.

He stood up slowly, his pain melting away with a calm that settled into his muscles like the warm soak of water. All his senses sizzled and went sharp. The first floor contained the living room, kitchen, a bathroom and Sam and Dean’s bedrooms. The back hall was dark, the afternoon sun slanting down on the opposite side of the house but still leaving it stuffy with unopened windows.

There was a sliver of cold when he saw Dean’s door closed. He never closed his door. Alec stood back and shook his head with an uncertain flex of his fist. Dean hooked up all the time, maybe he just brought someone back here for a change of motel scenery.

But Alec was still chewing anxiously on his lower lip and he didn‘t know why.

Tossing all caution and potential mind searing images aside, Alec knocked loudly and tried the door knob.

“Hey! Put some pants on! I’m coming in?”

The room was empty. The bed was made. For once. The window was open letting in a pleasant breeze that fluttered the pretty curtains some church goer had undoubtedly installed long ago in their pad.

Hm.

Alec was about to turn around and leave when he felt something strange building up in the back of his throat. It was making the hairs raise on the back of his neck and arms. With a moan he felt his anxiety triple right through and up his spine and spread into his chest. It came so hard and horrible he lowered to a knee, his shaking hand going to his flushed face. It was then that he saw him. He wouldn’t have seen his uncle’s arm from behind the bed if he hadn‘t gotten low.

“D-Dean?”

Dean was just laying there. His eyes were closed. Breathing shallow. Why was he laying between the bed and the window? It was like he’d been doing something and just… Alec checked Dean’s neck. A pulse. He was alive. But it was erratic. Phone. 911. Alec tossed the phone aside after they picked up and pulled Dean out of the awkward narrow space between the wall and the bed. There was a bruise darkening on his forehead.

Was it a demon? Was it some monster. Witch? Hex. What the hell--

The cat took that moment to scare the shit out of Alec by screeching from the bed.

“Shut up!” his mind raced through hundreds of emergency procedures he had filed in his head. “Just…Just let me think!”

Dean didn’t do anything supernaturally weird at home usually. He sure never brought any of their work on the road home with him. All he typically did on lazy afternoons like this was drink whiskey and… Alec’s frantic gaze abruptly stopped on the small table next to the bed. There was the almost empty bottle of knock off crap his uncle liked and another smaller plastic bottle. A pill bottle. Alec’s memory flashed back to that rainy day he’d stopped Dean outside the doctor’s office.

Alec went cold.

This wasn’t a demon attack. This was a good ole fashioned accidental over dose.

“A liter of booze and blood pressure meds?!” Alec shook Dean’s shoulders until his head started bumping against the floor. “Are you fucking kidding me?!”

Forgoing the cell phone Alec used what he had waiting and glowing white hot inside his mind.

SAM!!!!!!!!!

Where ever Sam was, Alec could feel him jerk violently in response, pain flooding back right at him with the force of his unchecked broadcast of pure panic. His father answered, a much more gentle push that filled Alec’s thoughts with Sam’s question and dread. Alec realized he was breathing too hard. Dean was too pale. He never looked like this. He couldn’t look like this. Dean never got hurt. Not really hurt anyway. Nothing could happen to him. He was going to live forever. He was -- the cell phone rang.

Alec thumbed it on desperate to hear Sam‘s voice.

“Emergency 911? But I just called you …” Alec repeated numbly. “You know our address! The church the church, we have a church…. Yeah, the one out… yes, on the hill!!! Yes, thank you and fuck you very much and goodbye.”

Pressing a hand against Dean’s chest, he could feel it. It didn’t feel right. His thudding heart was making Dean’s entire body shake. His uncle let out a strange gasp, his body going rigid under Alec’s grasp. Oh god. Oh no.

“No.”

No.No.No.No. A pain behind his eyes was growing. It was becoming unbearable. Dean’s eyes suddenly fluttered open but Alec could tell he was not totally home. His hand tightly gripped Alec’s for a moment.

“No.” Alec said again. “No way.”

No.

His uncle’s eyes drifted closed again, his grip relaxing, his entire body going slack.

“I said no.”

Alec thought his voice sounded strange. It was hollow, far off and like hearing yourself under water. The pain in his head flared and exploded like a bomb; bright, blinding and quietly hideous.

And then it happened.

Alec didn’t realized the searing light was coming from his hands for a moment. He just stared as the whole room started to fill with it. It was so intense it made him for some odd reason, laugh out loud. Mostly because it also hurt like hell and extreme pain had always made him act inappropriately. Which made him start laughing again. Oh God, Oh God, was he burning? Burning alive wasn't that funny.

The radiance blinded him and all he could hear was himself saying no no no as he hit the floor.

Over and over and over…..

“No, Sam.” Dean said.

Alec slumped further in the teal pleather hospital chair and watched Sam do that practiced breathing thing he did when he was going to really lose it. Dean pretended to inspect the IV hanging next to his bed and tugged at his medical gown with a large sigh.

“Dean--”

“I said no.”

“Eat it,” Sam said evenly. “Eat the soup.”

“If it’s so great,” Dean smiled. “Why don’t you eat it?”

“Maybe it’s made with horse,” Alec suggested. “It kinda smells like the backside of a barn--”

“Alec?” Sam took another deep breath. “Stop helping.”

“You mean stop horsing around--”

Sam dropped the spoon in the soup with a groan.

“Speaking of helping,” Dean weakly stretched back into as comfortable a sprawl one of those gurney’s could give a guy. “Please tell me the kid got that dish working again, because I have a week here and I wanna catch up on my ladies volley ball.”

“A week?” Alec frowned. He glanced down at his hands and tried not think too much about the light. Wasn’t he enough of a freak show already? His hands started shaking. Bad. He wasn't sure what the EMTs told Sam about what they found when they arrived at the house but he knew it wasn't any good.

“Yes,” Sam said. “That gives us plenty of chances to talk.”

Dean’s smile faltered.

Uh oh. Alec whistled. He knew that foreboding song and dance well enough but this time it was directed at his uncle and not him for a change. Poor bastard. Ha! Alec stilled and lost his grin when he realized Sam was looking at him too. Crap.

“Talking,” Alec forced a laugh. “Yay.”

“Dean, eat the damn soup or I’ll tell the nurse you need a catheter.”

“You can’t go around teasing a guy like that Sammy.”

“Well, I think…um…,” Alec gave a good stretch and fake yawn. “I’m gonna check out the vending machines. Maybe score another Better Homes & Gardens.” He needed out of here fast.

But Sam’s voice in his head reached him as he walked briskly down the hospital corridor.

Alec?

“I know, I know,” Alec muttered. “I got some ‘splaining to do.”

alec pov, minor tremors, spn/da crossover, with a bang, hurt!dean, aftershocks

Previous post Next post
Up