Gen Fic: Hell, and Back (3/?) WIP SPN/CM
Title: Hell, and Back
Author: Kikkimax
Fandoms: Supernatural and Criminal Minds
Rating: PG-13 for language and violence
Warnings: Uh, language and violence? AU from season 2 finale in SPN, WORK IN PROGRESS
Summary: The title says it all. Sequel to Defect, you probably want to read that one first.
Disclaimer: If I owned either of these shows I wouldn't still be going to work every morning...
Distribution: Please don't without my prior consent.
Slowing to a jog the final hundred yards Dean finally stopped just short of the mailbox where his favorite girl waited for him. “Maybe I’ll take you with me next time,” he breathlessly promised Cleo. She might be Bobby’s new dog but everyone knew her heart belonged to Dean.
She greeted him with a yawn and a whine at the end of her chain where she’d been since he left. She wagged her tail in a manner totally unbefitting a guard dog as Dean scratched her ears and took a minute to catch his breath before heading in. When his lungs stopped burning she followed him around the house to the back door, her chain jingling as they navigated the junk in the yard.
Bobby probably knew the whole sordid story by now. No doubt there would be words of sympathy and advise Dean just really didn’t want to deal with. Ever. He pulled off his sweat soaked tee-shirt and hung it on the porch rail before running his hands through his wet hair and putting on his game face. Through the window he could see Sam sitting in a kitchen chair with a towel around his neck. Bobby had a pair of scissors working on the out of control mop on top of Sam’s head.
When he busted through the back door with a boisterous ‘Morning!’ Bobby jumped and nearly took off one of Sam’s ears. Sam cried out like a girl and they both turned to glare at him. Mission accomplished. Dean gloated as he grabbed the cast iron skillet off the stove and a fork to make short work of the long cold scrambled eggs.
“Idgit,” Bobby swore as he examined the damage, mostly a big chunk of hair that he hadn’t intended to cut.
There was only a tiny speck of blood on the offended earlobe that didn’t come back when Bobby wiped it away so Dean stowed the apology on the tip of his tongue. Although he was glad to see the singed hair go Dean could see the reddened skin much better. He felt his smile slip a little.
“Give him a buzz cut,” Dean offered instead of the apology, adding a huge grin. He left the fork in the pan and moved on to the pile of bacon on a napkin. He crammed the first slice in his mouth and then poured a cup of coffee but stopped chewing when he turned around to what should have been the wrath of his baby brother. Instead Sam looked away guiltily. So not good.
“What?” Dean asked suspiciously.
“What, what?” came the entirely too innocent response.
“What the hell are you up to what,” Dean clarified, narrowing his eyes.
Bobby grunted and got back to the much needed haircut. “Eat yer breakfast,” he admonished. “And don’t run off. You’re next.”
Dean rubbed the back of his head and decided maybe he did need a little off the sides and back. “You got clippers?”
“Hell yes I got clippers.”
“You know how to use ‘em?” Dean pushed slyly, getting back to putting away a quarter pound or so of not quite crisp bacon.
“You’d rather spend thirty bucks in town?” Bobby challenged, raising an eyebrow under his ball cap.
“If that’s what it takes to look good.”
“Suit yerself.”
“Copy that.”
Sam made no comment which just didn’t sit right and Dean realized he’d been purposely distracted for reasons as yet unknown. He openly watched Sam as he drank his coffee, now certain something was up. Sam flinched under his gaze.
Sam finally cracked. “Jesus, Dean. What?”
“I’m just waiting for you to let me in on your little secret.”
“All done,” Bobby said, carefully removing the towel from around Sam’s neck without scattering the hair. “Gather that up and burn it,” he told Sam. “There’s all kinds of hoodoo a body can do with just a lock of hair. No sense in tempting fate.”
“Okay,” Sam agreed, going over to the old chrome toaster to get a look at his new do.
“You next?” Bobby asked as he pointed to the hot seat.
Dean chugged the rest of his coffee and considered his options. “I guess it’ll grow back,” he finally allowed and dropped into the chair.
“Well thank you for that overwhelming vote of confidence,” Bobby growled. He took the towel Sam handed him and slung it around Dean’s bare shoulders.
Sam put the impressive pile of the hair he had gathered into an ashtray and reached for a match. Dean felt his mouth go dry and his heart speed up. Knowing what was coming, he couldn’t take his eyes off the unlit match.
“Outside,” Bobby ordered when he noticed what Sam was up to. “Don’t need that stink in the kitchen. I swear you boys were raised by wolves.”
“Worse,” Sam said with a smirk as he ducked out the back door. “John Winchester.”
Bobby smirked back, grabbing the clippers he had stowed amongst the mess on the table. “You okay, boy?” he asked, snapping Dean out of his little fugue.
“What?”
“You’re looking kinda pale, there. If you want to go into town for this it won’t hurt my feelings none.”
“No, I’m good,” Dean managed, but just barely. “Just, you know, not too short.”
Sam came back in with a sooty ashtray and set it on the counter. Whatever smartass comment he was about to make died on his lips as his eyes went wide when he looked at Dean. “What’s wrong?” he asked instead.
“Nothing’s wrong,” Dean insisted even though he was still dizzy and sick. And that was just at the thought of Sam lighting the match. “You want to let me in on your secret or should I just beat it out of you later?” he tried to cover.
“I found us a job,” Sam said.
Oh. “So?” Dean fidgeted even though what he really felt was relief. A job was the last thing he was expecting but that was fine by him. Gotta get back on that horse soon if they were gonna keep hunting.
“Sit still,” Bobby warned. The clippers came on with a rattle and a buzz.
Dean closed his eyes for a second to recover his bearings. “Well don’t just stand there. Tell me,” he said as Bobby made the first swipe.
“Seven kids and young adults have gone missing in the last 15 years,” Sam spoke up to be heard over the clippers, “All within a one mile radius of a miniature golf course. Nothing was ever found of any of them.”
“A haunted Putt Putt? Awesome,” Dean approved even as Bobby pushed his head over to the side to trim around his left ear. “When was the last disappearance?”
Sam and Bobby exchanged a look Dean didn‘t miss. “Three years ago,” Sam mumbled.
So that was their game. “Kind of a cold case then?” Dean asked with his suspicion back full force.
“It came out of my old case file,” Bobby admitted evenly, shoving Dean’s head the other way none too gently.
“I don’t need to be coddled,” Dean huffed, angry and humiliated. He tried to get up but Bobby kept him down by holding the clippers accidentally on purpose too close to his face.
“There were gaps of eleven months to four years between the missing kids,” Sam pointed out, pulling out a manila folder and referencing it. “We don’t know that another might go missing tomorrow. Dean, we’re not coddling you, this is a real threat. Someone needs to figure out what happened to these kids.”
“Sounds like a job for the police,” Dean grumbled, settling back so Bobby could finish the damned haircut. “What makes you think this is supernatural anyway?”
“There was one eyewitness account.” Sam pulled out a newspaper article and brandished it in front of Dean’s face. “The very first case a little girl saw her brother disappear into thin air after he climbed the fence to find his lost ball.”
“And the police wrote it off as hysteria,” Dean finished for him.
“Yeah.”
Dean shrugged and earned a whap on the head for moving. “Ow,” he complained, shooting an aggravated glance at an unrepentant Bobby before turning his attention back to Sam. “An angry spirit?”
“Or a lonely one,” Sam hazarded. “It‘s only taking boys and young men. Could be looking for a playmate.”
“Okay, I’m in,” Dean accepted, actually glad that was all Sam was hiding. “Where are we off to?”
Sam hesitated again for a fraction of a second. “Virginia.”
“That’s cool,” Dean said too loudly as Bobby shut off the clippers, wondering why Sam thought he wouldn‘t want to go to Virginia.
“All done,” Bobby announced, once again disrupting his train of thought. “Now gather this up…”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Dean grumbled, accepting the towel. “If anyone can make a talisman out of this?” he said as he held up a pinch of hair between two fingers, “Good for them.”
He took the towel to the back porch and shook it out, letting the South Dakota wind take the tiny pieces of him away. Then he leaned on the rail and forcibly exhaled the breath he felt like he’d been holding for days. He absently brushed away the stray hairs that stuck to his clammy chest. Time to get back in the saddle. Again.
“Dammit, Dean,” he heard Bobby grumble from the screen door. “Don’t come crying to me when you’re some voodoo queen’s sex slave.”
Sam laughed and Dean couldn’t help but smile. “Sweet,” he told Cleo as she stared adoringly up at him. He ran a hand through his newly shorn hair. Still damp, it felt soft but uneven. He would make a trip into town later, he just wouldn‘t tell Bobby.
Author: Kikkimax
Fandoms: Supernatural and Criminal Minds
Rating: PG-13 for language and violence
Warnings: Uh, language and violence? AU from season 2 finale in SPN, WORK IN PROGRESS
Summary: The title says it all. Sequel to Defect, you probably want to read that one first.
Disclaimer: If I owned either of these shows I wouldn't still be going to work every morning...
Distribution: Please don't without my prior consent.
Slowing to a jog the final hundred yards Dean finally stopped just short of the mailbox where his favorite girl waited for him. “Maybe I’ll take you with me next time,” he breathlessly promised Cleo. She might be Bobby’s new dog but everyone knew her heart belonged to Dean.
She greeted him with a yawn and a whine at the end of her chain where she’d been since he left. She wagged her tail in a manner totally unbefitting a guard dog as Dean scratched her ears and took a minute to catch his breath before heading in. When his lungs stopped burning she followed him around the house to the back door, her chain jingling as they navigated the junk in the yard.
Bobby probably knew the whole sordid story by now. No doubt there would be words of sympathy and advise Dean just really didn’t want to deal with. Ever. He pulled off his sweat soaked tee-shirt and hung it on the porch rail before running his hands through his wet hair and putting on his game face. Through the window he could see Sam sitting in a kitchen chair with a towel around his neck. Bobby had a pair of scissors working on the out of control mop on top of Sam’s head.
When he busted through the back door with a boisterous ‘Morning!’ Bobby jumped and nearly took off one of Sam’s ears. Sam cried out like a girl and they both turned to glare at him. Mission accomplished. Dean gloated as he grabbed the cast iron skillet off the stove and a fork to make short work of the long cold scrambled eggs.
“Idgit,” Bobby swore as he examined the damage, mostly a big chunk of hair that he hadn’t intended to cut.
There was only a tiny speck of blood on the offended earlobe that didn’t come back when Bobby wiped it away so Dean stowed the apology on the tip of his tongue. Although he was glad to see the singed hair go Dean could see the reddened skin much better. He felt his smile slip a little.
“Give him a buzz cut,” Dean offered instead of the apology, adding a huge grin. He left the fork in the pan and moved on to the pile of bacon on a napkin. He crammed the first slice in his mouth and then poured a cup of coffee but stopped chewing when he turned around to what should have been the wrath of his baby brother. Instead Sam looked away guiltily. So not good.
“What?” Dean asked suspiciously.
“What, what?” came the entirely too innocent response.
“What the hell are you up to what,” Dean clarified, narrowing his eyes.
Bobby grunted and got back to the much needed haircut. “Eat yer breakfast,” he admonished. “And don’t run off. You’re next.”
Dean rubbed the back of his head and decided maybe he did need a little off the sides and back. “You got clippers?”
“Hell yes I got clippers.”
“You know how to use ‘em?” Dean pushed slyly, getting back to putting away a quarter pound or so of not quite crisp bacon.
“You’d rather spend thirty bucks in town?” Bobby challenged, raising an eyebrow under his ball cap.
“If that’s what it takes to look good.”
“Suit yerself.”
“Copy that.”
Sam made no comment which just didn’t sit right and Dean realized he’d been purposely distracted for reasons as yet unknown. He openly watched Sam as he drank his coffee, now certain something was up. Sam flinched under his gaze.
Sam finally cracked. “Jesus, Dean. What?”
“I’m just waiting for you to let me in on your little secret.”
“All done,” Bobby said, carefully removing the towel from around Sam’s neck without scattering the hair. “Gather that up and burn it,” he told Sam. “There’s all kinds of hoodoo a body can do with just a lock of hair. No sense in tempting fate.”
“Okay,” Sam agreed, going over to the old chrome toaster to get a look at his new do.
“You next?” Bobby asked as he pointed to the hot seat.
Dean chugged the rest of his coffee and considered his options. “I guess it’ll grow back,” he finally allowed and dropped into the chair.
“Well thank you for that overwhelming vote of confidence,” Bobby growled. He took the towel Sam handed him and slung it around Dean’s bare shoulders.
Sam put the impressive pile of the hair he had gathered into an ashtray and reached for a match. Dean felt his mouth go dry and his heart speed up. Knowing what was coming, he couldn’t take his eyes off the unlit match.
“Outside,” Bobby ordered when he noticed what Sam was up to. “Don’t need that stink in the kitchen. I swear you boys were raised by wolves.”
“Worse,” Sam said with a smirk as he ducked out the back door. “John Winchester.”
Bobby smirked back, grabbing the clippers he had stowed amongst the mess on the table. “You okay, boy?” he asked, snapping Dean out of his little fugue.
“What?”
“You’re looking kinda pale, there. If you want to go into town for this it won’t hurt my feelings none.”
“No, I’m good,” Dean managed, but just barely. “Just, you know, not too short.”
Sam came back in with a sooty ashtray and set it on the counter. Whatever smartass comment he was about to make died on his lips as his eyes went wide when he looked at Dean. “What’s wrong?” he asked instead.
“Nothing’s wrong,” Dean insisted even though he was still dizzy and sick. And that was just at the thought of Sam lighting the match. “You want to let me in on your secret or should I just beat it out of you later?” he tried to cover.
“I found us a job,” Sam said.
Oh. “So?” Dean fidgeted even though what he really felt was relief. A job was the last thing he was expecting but that was fine by him. Gotta get back on that horse soon if they were gonna keep hunting.
“Sit still,” Bobby warned. The clippers came on with a rattle and a buzz.
Dean closed his eyes for a second to recover his bearings. “Well don’t just stand there. Tell me,” he said as Bobby made the first swipe.
“Seven kids and young adults have gone missing in the last 15 years,” Sam spoke up to be heard over the clippers, “All within a one mile radius of a miniature golf course. Nothing was ever found of any of them.”
“A haunted Putt Putt? Awesome,” Dean approved even as Bobby pushed his head over to the side to trim around his left ear. “When was the last disappearance?”
Sam and Bobby exchanged a look Dean didn‘t miss. “Three years ago,” Sam mumbled.
So that was their game. “Kind of a cold case then?” Dean asked with his suspicion back full force.
“It came out of my old case file,” Bobby admitted evenly, shoving Dean’s head the other way none too gently.
“I don’t need to be coddled,” Dean huffed, angry and humiliated. He tried to get up but Bobby kept him down by holding the clippers accidentally on purpose too close to his face.
“There were gaps of eleven months to four years between the missing kids,” Sam pointed out, pulling out a manila folder and referencing it. “We don’t know that another might go missing tomorrow. Dean, we’re not coddling you, this is a real threat. Someone needs to figure out what happened to these kids.”
“Sounds like a job for the police,” Dean grumbled, settling back so Bobby could finish the damned haircut. “What makes you think this is supernatural anyway?”
“There was one eyewitness account.” Sam pulled out a newspaper article and brandished it in front of Dean’s face. “The very first case a little girl saw her brother disappear into thin air after he climbed the fence to find his lost ball.”
“And the police wrote it off as hysteria,” Dean finished for him.
“Yeah.”
Dean shrugged and earned a whap on the head for moving. “Ow,” he complained, shooting an aggravated glance at an unrepentant Bobby before turning his attention back to Sam. “An angry spirit?”
“Or a lonely one,” Sam hazarded. “It‘s only taking boys and young men. Could be looking for a playmate.”
“Okay, I’m in,” Dean accepted, actually glad that was all Sam was hiding. “Where are we off to?”
Sam hesitated again for a fraction of a second. “Virginia.”
“That’s cool,” Dean said too loudly as Bobby shut off the clippers, wondering why Sam thought he wouldn‘t want to go to Virginia.
“All done,” Bobby announced, once again disrupting his train of thought. “Now gather this up…”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Dean grumbled, accepting the towel. “If anyone can make a talisman out of this?” he said as he held up a pinch of hair between two fingers, “Good for them.”
He took the towel to the back porch and shook it out, letting the South Dakota wind take the tiny pieces of him away. Then he leaned on the rail and forcibly exhaled the breath he felt like he’d been holding for days. He absently brushed away the stray hairs that stuck to his clammy chest. Time to get back in the saddle. Again.
“Dammit, Dean,” he heard Bobby grumble from the screen door. “Don’t come crying to me when you’re some voodoo queen’s sex slave.”
Sam laughed and Dean couldn’t help but smile. “Sweet,” he told Cleo as she stared adoringly up at him. He ran a hand through his newly shorn hair. Still damp, it felt soft but uneven. He would make a trip into town later, he just wouldn‘t tell Bobby.