Fic: Folsom Prison Bitch
Title: Folsom Prison Bitch
Author: MissAnnThropic
Spoilers: Folsom Prison Blues
Summary: Sam's got an extra thing to worry about in prison, while Dean is ignorantly unaware of the danger!
Disclaimer: None of it's mine. I'm just a sad little fangirl that spends her days writing fanfic and watching DVDs of her favorite shows :(
Author's Note: Honestly, this occurred to me the first time I saw the episode "Folsom Prison Blues", and I thought it was a legitimate concern that was NEVER MENTIONED!
*************
They were going to prison. They knew it. And Dean was fine with it.
That more than anything bothered Sam about this hunt. He'd relented to Dean's insistence that they help John's old friend, because Sam understood taking care of friends. Winchesters didn't have a lot of them, and the few out there had to be maintained.
"I just wish we could find a better way of taking care of this problem without getting thrown in prison," Sam griped to Bobby over the phone. Sam had found Dean completely unreasonable and impossible to talk to about the matter (he'd decided incarceration was their only sure route and would hear no more bitching on the matter), so Sam had turned to calling Bobby to vent his concerns.
It was just venting at that point, because Dean was bent on getting his ass thrown in the slammer and Sam wasn't about to let him go in there alone, but it made Sam feel marginally better that Bobby seemed to think it was as bone-headed an idea as Sam did.
"I wish I had a better idea to offer," Bobby sympathized.
"Dean wouldn't listen anyway," Sam grumbled. He glanced through the motel room window where his brother was inside 'getting things in order'. They were going to get themselves busted by the police in a few short hours, intentionally, so they had to plan accordingly. Sam watched Dean take off his amulet and put it away somewhere safe to wait for him when they busted out.
If they busted out. If breaking out of prison was easy, more criminals would do it. There were so many ways this hunt could go pear-shaped. There were all the usual potential complications when dealing with the dead, and on top of that the trouble that could be caused by the living. Prison guards foremost among them.
"This has got to be one of the shittiest plans we've ever come up with," Sam groused.
"Don't be stupid… you idjits have done far stupider stuff than this."
Sam snorted. "Thanks, Bobby." Sam looked out at the parking lot at the Impala sitting sleek and powerful in front of their motel room. The car would be parked somewhere, hidden and out of reach from local law enforcement, until Dean told their contact in the prison where to find her.
"Dean is far too calm about this whole 'going to prison' deal than anyone should be," Sam commented sourly. "It's really bothering me."
"Look, Sam, your brother… boy's always had something to prove about not being a pansy. Got that from your hard-ass Marine Corps father, if you ask me. Prison's one more 'badge of a true badass' he doesn't have in his diary yet."
Sam smirked to himself. Bobby always had a unique and blunt point of view on the Winchesters. Sam was almost afraid to think what Bobby might truly think of him.
"I don't like this," Sam grumbled.
"I don't either, but good luck talking your brother out of it now."
"Right… I just hope things go according to plan enough that we don't become long-term inmates." Sam glanced through the window again at Dean, who must have turned on the clock radio in the room, because he was bobbing his head to an unheard tune, picking and choosing between shirts like a guy packing for a vacation.
There was something seriously screwed up with the Winchester way of seeing things.
"Sam…" Bobby began gravely.
Sam became immediately attentive. "What is it, Bobby?"
"I want you to promise me something."
That made Sam start to frown. "Okay…"
"I know you'd do it anyway, but I just want to say it… while you two are in prison, watch your brother's ass."
Sam rolled his eyes. "You know I always do, Bobby."
"Yeah, and in there you won't be the only one watching it."
Sam went very still as he got it. "Oh…!"
"Damn right 'oh'. I'd tell Dean to watch his back if I thought it wouldn't fall on deaf ears…"
"Yeah…" Sam tried to picture that conversation, "that's probably not something Dean would want to hear or heed," Sam admitted.
"So it's your god damn job," Bobby growled. "And you know exactly what I mean."
Sam looked at his brother through the window again. Dean was down to standing in the middle of the room thinking, obviously trying to see if he'd forgotten anything. He stood with arms crossed over his chest, pursed his lips, brought up a hand to run his thumb over his bottom lip, then raked his fingers through his brown hair.
There was no doubt in Sam's mind what Bobby meant when he warned Sam to watch out for his brother in prison. Because Sam looked intently at Dean through the window and there was no missing the fact that Dean Winchester was one damned pretty man.
Pretty men weren't famous for being left alone in prison.
Great… one more thing that could go awry on this hunt.
Sam felt a headache looming and he pinched the bridge of his nose. "Don't worry. I'm on it, Bobby… he won't leave my sight."
"He better not, or some burly convict will be on him."
The mental image made Sam's skin crawl. It also filled him with a new dread for this hunt. Sam never thought he'd find himself in a position where he had to be the defender of Dean's virtue. But Bobby was absolutely right. Dean would be candy in prison, and Sam…
Well, if he had to go so far as to act like Dean's possessive boyfriend and parade around the total of his near six and a half feet of height and muscle tone that Sam usually tended to consider a concealed asset, he'd do it.
But he could never let Dean know what he was up to, because some things were just too cruel to inflict on his big brother's pride.
"This sucks, Bobby," Sam complained.
"You see that it doesn't suck, boy," Bobby ordered.
Sam fought a gag reflex. "I better go."
"All right. Call me when you boys are out and let me know everything went okay." Bobby didn't usually ask for check-up calls like a hovering parent, but this time…
"Sure thing, Bobby. Later." Sam closed his phone and lifted his head to look toward his brother again. Dean, seeing that Sam was off the phone, went to the door, opened it, and stood in the open entryway facing his younger brother. "Get a move on, Sammy," Dean prodded with entirely too much enthusiasm. That he had any at all was entirely too much for being arrested.
"Could you be a little less pathological about this? Really, Dean, who is excited about being thrown in prison?" Sam griped.
Dean beamed at Sam, all wide smile, twinkling eyes, skin crinkling at the corners of each eye that was framed by ungodly dark, long lashes. Dean's tongue made a brief, fleeting appearance, peeking between Dean's straight white teeth and soft bottom lip. Half mischievous boy, the other half cocky hunk.
He looked like a god damn model.
"Dude, why are you so freaking worried? We're hunters, man… prison's going to be a breeze."
For Dean, maybe… it'd just be another job like any other to him. He'd stroll through it like he did every other hunt, oblivious to the danger breathing down his neck.
It was Sam who'd have to be on the alert to save his brother from becoming someone's bitch.
Annoyed, Sam turned to Dean and snapped, "Could you try to look a little less…"
Dean's eyebrows rose questioningly, arching cutely in that naturally beautiful way Dean had, the same gift that he used to its fullest on the opposite sex with wild success.
The disgusting fact of the matter was, Dean still looked adorable when he had the flu. He could be black, blue, and bleeding, quirk a smile, and make people melt. Sam had seen that Dean Winchester magic of attraction work on people all his life to be blind to it.
"What?" Dean asked.
Sam shook his head sourly. "Nothing. Forget it."
Bobby had to be wrong… surely nothing the Winchesters had done was a stupider idea than this.
END
Author: MissAnnThropic
Spoilers: Folsom Prison Blues
Summary: Sam's got an extra thing to worry about in prison, while Dean is ignorantly unaware of the danger!
Disclaimer: None of it's mine. I'm just a sad little fangirl that spends her days writing fanfic and watching DVDs of her favorite shows :(
Author's Note: Honestly, this occurred to me the first time I saw the episode "Folsom Prison Blues", and I thought it was a legitimate concern that was NEVER MENTIONED!
*************
They were going to prison. They knew it. And Dean was fine with it.
That more than anything bothered Sam about this hunt. He'd relented to Dean's insistence that they help John's old friend, because Sam understood taking care of friends. Winchesters didn't have a lot of them, and the few out there had to be maintained.
"I just wish we could find a better way of taking care of this problem without getting thrown in prison," Sam griped to Bobby over the phone. Sam had found Dean completely unreasonable and impossible to talk to about the matter (he'd decided incarceration was their only sure route and would hear no more bitching on the matter), so Sam had turned to calling Bobby to vent his concerns.
It was just venting at that point, because Dean was bent on getting his ass thrown in the slammer and Sam wasn't about to let him go in there alone, but it made Sam feel marginally better that Bobby seemed to think it was as bone-headed an idea as Sam did.
"I wish I had a better idea to offer," Bobby sympathized.
"Dean wouldn't listen anyway," Sam grumbled. He glanced through the motel room window where his brother was inside 'getting things in order'. They were going to get themselves busted by the police in a few short hours, intentionally, so they had to plan accordingly. Sam watched Dean take off his amulet and put it away somewhere safe to wait for him when they busted out.
If they busted out. If breaking out of prison was easy, more criminals would do it. There were so many ways this hunt could go pear-shaped. There were all the usual potential complications when dealing with the dead, and on top of that the trouble that could be caused by the living. Prison guards foremost among them.
"This has got to be one of the shittiest plans we've ever come up with," Sam groused.
"Don't be stupid… you idjits have done far stupider stuff than this."
Sam snorted. "Thanks, Bobby." Sam looked out at the parking lot at the Impala sitting sleek and powerful in front of their motel room. The car would be parked somewhere, hidden and out of reach from local law enforcement, until Dean told their contact in the prison where to find her.
"Dean is far too calm about this whole 'going to prison' deal than anyone should be," Sam commented sourly. "It's really bothering me."
"Look, Sam, your brother… boy's always had something to prove about not being a pansy. Got that from your hard-ass Marine Corps father, if you ask me. Prison's one more 'badge of a true badass' he doesn't have in his diary yet."
Sam smirked to himself. Bobby always had a unique and blunt point of view on the Winchesters. Sam was almost afraid to think what Bobby might truly think of him.
"I don't like this," Sam grumbled.
"I don't either, but good luck talking your brother out of it now."
"Right… I just hope things go according to plan enough that we don't become long-term inmates." Sam glanced through the window again at Dean, who must have turned on the clock radio in the room, because he was bobbing his head to an unheard tune, picking and choosing between shirts like a guy packing for a vacation.
There was something seriously screwed up with the Winchester way of seeing things.
"Sam…" Bobby began gravely.
Sam became immediately attentive. "What is it, Bobby?"
"I want you to promise me something."
That made Sam start to frown. "Okay…"
"I know you'd do it anyway, but I just want to say it… while you two are in prison, watch your brother's ass."
Sam rolled his eyes. "You know I always do, Bobby."
"Yeah, and in there you won't be the only one watching it."
Sam went very still as he got it. "Oh…!"
"Damn right 'oh'. I'd tell Dean to watch his back if I thought it wouldn't fall on deaf ears…"
"Yeah…" Sam tried to picture that conversation, "that's probably not something Dean would want to hear or heed," Sam admitted.
"So it's your god damn job," Bobby growled. "And you know exactly what I mean."
Sam looked at his brother through the window again. Dean was down to standing in the middle of the room thinking, obviously trying to see if he'd forgotten anything. He stood with arms crossed over his chest, pursed his lips, brought up a hand to run his thumb over his bottom lip, then raked his fingers through his brown hair.
There was no doubt in Sam's mind what Bobby meant when he warned Sam to watch out for his brother in prison. Because Sam looked intently at Dean through the window and there was no missing the fact that Dean Winchester was one damned pretty man.
Pretty men weren't famous for being left alone in prison.
Great… one more thing that could go awry on this hunt.
Sam felt a headache looming and he pinched the bridge of his nose. "Don't worry. I'm on it, Bobby… he won't leave my sight."
"He better not, or some burly convict will be on him."
The mental image made Sam's skin crawl. It also filled him with a new dread for this hunt. Sam never thought he'd find himself in a position where he had to be the defender of Dean's virtue. But Bobby was absolutely right. Dean would be candy in prison, and Sam…
Well, if he had to go so far as to act like Dean's possessive boyfriend and parade around the total of his near six and a half feet of height and muscle tone that Sam usually tended to consider a concealed asset, he'd do it.
But he could never let Dean know what he was up to, because some things were just too cruel to inflict on his big brother's pride.
"This sucks, Bobby," Sam complained.
"You see that it doesn't suck, boy," Bobby ordered.
Sam fought a gag reflex. "I better go."
"All right. Call me when you boys are out and let me know everything went okay." Bobby didn't usually ask for check-up calls like a hovering parent, but this time…
"Sure thing, Bobby. Later." Sam closed his phone and lifted his head to look toward his brother again. Dean, seeing that Sam was off the phone, went to the door, opened it, and stood in the open entryway facing his younger brother. "Get a move on, Sammy," Dean prodded with entirely too much enthusiasm. That he had any at all was entirely too much for being arrested.
"Could you be a little less pathological about this? Really, Dean, who is excited about being thrown in prison?" Sam griped.
Dean beamed at Sam, all wide smile, twinkling eyes, skin crinkling at the corners of each eye that was framed by ungodly dark, long lashes. Dean's tongue made a brief, fleeting appearance, peeking between Dean's straight white teeth and soft bottom lip. Half mischievous boy, the other half cocky hunk.
He looked like a god damn model.
"Dude, why are you so freaking worried? We're hunters, man… prison's going to be a breeze."
For Dean, maybe… it'd just be another job like any other to him. He'd stroll through it like he did every other hunt, oblivious to the danger breathing down his neck.
It was Sam who'd have to be on the alert to save his brother from becoming someone's bitch.
Annoyed, Sam turned to Dean and snapped, "Could you try to look a little less…"
Dean's eyebrows rose questioningly, arching cutely in that naturally beautiful way Dean had, the same gift that he used to its fullest on the opposite sex with wild success.
The disgusting fact of the matter was, Dean still looked adorable when he had the flu. He could be black, blue, and bleeding, quirk a smile, and make people melt. Sam had seen that Dean Winchester magic of attraction work on people all his life to be blind to it.
"What?" Dean asked.
Sam shook his head sourly. "Nothing. Forget it."
Bobby had to be wrong… surely nothing the Winchesters had done was a stupider idea than this.
END