Living for Giving the Devil his Due. Chapter 6/13
Title: Living for Giving the Devil his Due. Chapter 6/13
Author: Strangevisitor7
Fandom: Supernatural, BtVS & Quantum Leap
Characters: Bobby Singer, Dawn Summers, Sam Winchester, Admiral Al Calavicci, Sam Beckett
Pairings : Sam/Dawn implied
Rated: Gen
Disclaimer: All things SPN belong to Eric Kripke, et al. All things Buffy belong to Joss Whedon, All things Quantum Leap belong to Donald P. Bellisario
Summary: Sam Winchester and Sam Beckett (as Dean) travel to Bobby’s and Al tries to help but it all goes sideways very quickly.
A/N: So that Sam Beckett had not been leaping in time for 25 years, I have adjusted the time line to match up better. Sam Beckett’s present is 2015 (this is where Al is) and he has been leaping around for 3 years before he lands in Dean Winchester.
The other chapters are here:
Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8, Chapter 9, Chapter 10, Chapter 11, Chapter 12, Chapter 13
Chapter 6: The Road to Nowhere
They’d been on the road for a good 10 hours, stopping briefly for fuel and food. Dean had barely said two words to him. Sam tried to feel guilty about forcing Dean to do it his way, but he couldn’t. Saving Dean had consumed him for the past year. If being a selfish bastard was they only way to get Dean to keep moving forward, well, then they could both live with that.
He was alternating between watching Dean and trying to sleep. As he drifted toward consciousness this last time, he thought he heard Dean talking to someone.
Sam bolted upright worried that the hounds had come. “Who are you talking to?”
“What? Oh, go back to sleep, I am just talking to myself to stay awake.”
If that were true, why did he look like a kid caught out after curfew? Also, Dean kept taking furtive glances in the rear view mirror. Sam had noticed that ever since they’d left the canyon, Dean had been on edge. It was understandable that he would be overly restless and tense. Still, Sam was worried that Dean was losing it.
“Look, you’re tired, let me drive.” Sam figured he’d be turned down again knowing how Dean used driving to relax. Hell, Dean had driven all night, one time, after he’d been shot. So, he was genuinely surprised when Dean pulled off the next exit ramp and agreed to swap out.
Dean tossed him the keys and told him to fill’er up while he went for snacks. Sam was bewildered to see that Dean just pretended to head into the convenience store. He watched as Dean tried and failed to be subtle about sneaking around to the back of the building. What the Hell? Sam was abruptly blind sided by the idea that Dean wasn’t moving like Dean. Specifically, that air of self-confidence in his walk was missing. Stupidly, he had dismissed some of Dean’s odd behavior in the car earlier because, well, who wouldn’t be edgy knowing what could happen today. Thinking back over some of his more uncharacteristic reactions during the drive, Sam tried not to panic. Forgetting about the gas, he grabbed some supplies from the trunk and headed toward the back of the convenience store.
He leaned around the corner to catch a glimpse of Dean talking and gesturing at nothing. Sam realized he was listening to a one sided conversation and grew more concerned by the moment.
“So, no disease. He’s not dying after all?”
“And Ziggy really believes that he didn’t kill those girls?”
“Demons, you’re kidding right? Come on, Al.”
“Well, Dean’s insane and obviously, Sam is supporting his delusions. Or maybe he had a psychotic break as well, due to the death of his girlfriend.”
Sam had heard enough. He stepped out of the shadows with his gun drawn and yelled “Christo” while tossing holy water at Dean. Nothing happened. Sam didn’t think possession was the answer. Why possess something you would own in a few hours?
Dean cocked his head as if listening to an unseen entity. Then, shaking his head in disappointment, he said. “I am not a demon.” Dean’s voice took on a soft, calming, almost condescending tone. “I’m here to help, Sam. Now please put down the weapon.”
In his entire life, Dean had never spoken to him like that and it was making Sam furious. “What the Hell are you, who were you talking to and what have you done with my brother?”
“Sam, you’re delusional. You and I, we’ve been running from our imaginations. We need help. I’m seeing things more clearly, now.” Dean continued speaking as if he were trying to coax a jumper off the ledge of a high building. “There are no demons or hellhounds coming to harvest my soul.”
Sam just stared incredulously at this unfamiliar person wearing his brother’s face, who had the audacity to dismiss their whole lives as imaginary. Sam couldn’t help himself; he began to laugh.
“You’re kidding, right?” Was it possible that the stress of the deal had actually caused Dean to break from reality, to forget who he was?
“Sammy, please, I‘m serious.” Dean was trying hard to convince Sam he was delusional, but it was having the opposite effect.
“Don’t call me Sammy, you are not my brother,” Sam sneered. “I doubt you’re a shapeshifter or skinwalker, because you would have tried to kill me already and you are clearly not a demon. So, I’ll ask you again.” he paused to enunciate each word, “What are you?”
“Sam there are no such creatures. I am just your brother and I am trying to stop us from doing any more stupid things. Now, please give me the gun.” Dean looked at him with real pity on his face.
Stop looking at me like that. Sam wanted to scream at him. He felt himself coming apart at the edges. It had to be the crossroads demon tormenting him. She was obviously doing something to Dean to make the end even more horrific.
“Sam, let me help you.” Dean pleaded with him.
“Enough” Sam stared menacingly at the doppelganger. “I am done with this ridiculous conversation.” He would figure out what happened but right now it was beyond his capability to solve in a gas station parking lot. Bobby or Dawn would be able to help or maybe he could even contact Giles. Regardless, he still needed to get Dean to South Dakota and the safest way to do that was restrained.
Five minutes later Dean was trussed up and in the back seat. Sam had subdued Dean with surprising ease. It proved that, while Dean might not be anything supernatural, he sure as hell wasn’t himself. Sam was beginning to worry that either way, he’d already lost his brother.
***************
Sam Becket spent the next several hours trying to find a comfortable way to sit while tied up in the back seat of the Impala. He hadn’t been prepared for Sam’s sudden arrival while he’d been catching up with Al.
Periodically, Sam asked him who he was and what he’d done with the real Dean. Beckett just kept to the story that he was Dean and there were no demons after them and couldn’t they talk. Unfortunately, that line of response was just making Shaggy mad. Silence was safer.
The car pulled into a scrap yard and it seemed they’d finally arrived. Beckett watched as Sam walked up to the porch to greet a grizzled older man in a ball cap and hug a pretty young brunette. Dawn and Bobby, he assumed.
Al appeared in the seat beside Beckett. “Have you had any luck getting info from Dean?” Sam asked while still trying to keep an eye on the trio on the porch
Al nodded. “Some. I haven’t mentioned the time travel but Dean still thinks I’m crazy which makes us even, because I think he’s certifiable. Even so, he’s been answering my questions mostly because he’s trying to freak me out. Which, by the way, is working. Also, did I mention I find him to be an annoying, cocky, son of a bitch?” Al rubbed his throat remembering how Dean had tried to choke him.
“Get to the point Al. Dawn and Bobby?” Beckett nodded toward the house where the three are in deep conversation.
“Right, sorry, Sam. Bobby Singer is just a scrap yard owner. Nothing unusual. Dawn Summers, on the other hand, is a linguist working in Cleveland for an institute based in the UK called the Watcher’s Council.”
“Never heard of them.”
Once again, Al slapped the hand held and Sam had to wonder if that helped retrieve the data or if hitting it just made Al feel better. “Here it is. They are an Anthropological and Archaeological think tank and historical archive. Oh, on a side note, Dean mentioned that Dawn and Sam are quite the item. But he used more colorful language.”
Sam’s face showed his disbelief. “How the heck did someone like that get mixed up with two fugitives in South Dakota?”
Al snorted. “I asked Dean the same question. He says they met in a graveyard while taking out a nest of vampires in Cleveland.”
“Great, so now he’s just yanking your chain.” Sam would have thrown his arms up in disgust if they hadn’t been tied behind his back.
“Or she’s in on their delusion.” Al offered.
“That’s ridiculous Al, they can’t all be crazy. What the hell is going on?”
“Still talking to yourself, Dean?” Sam Winchester had snuck up on him again. Damn that boy moved like a panther. Shaggy yanked door of the Impala open and hauled him into the house.
They tied him to a chair in the middle of the room. Sam looked up to see some crazy designs on the ceiling and there were stacks of books everywhere. Shaggy and Dawn took turns reading prayers and poetry (?) to him. Beckett was able to translate a few of the Latin passages and realized they were exorcism rituals.
He had long since given up trying to convince them that he was Dean; but, Sam wasn’t ready to try to convince them he was a time traveler, either. His prevailing theory now was that they must be part of some kind of cult.
It was obvious his “condition” had them stumped. When the trio had finally given up for the night, he’d sent Al off to look for evidence of cult activity here and in Cleveland.
Sam Beckett had been leaping around for almost three years and he could never recall feeling so helpless. He’d been here almost two days and there appeared to be no way out of this leap. The mission was still unclear; no one was sick, dying or in need of rescue, mental illness aside. He’d prevented Dean from being eaten by wild dogs and yet he was still here tied to a chair. If the wall had been close enough, Sam Becket would have been banging his head against it.
A/N: Chapter title is The Road to Nowhere by Ozzy Osbourne
Chapter 7
Author: Strangevisitor7
Fandom: Supernatural, BtVS & Quantum Leap
Characters: Bobby Singer, Dawn Summers, Sam Winchester, Admiral Al Calavicci, Sam Beckett
Pairings : Sam/Dawn implied
Rated: Gen
Disclaimer: All things SPN belong to Eric Kripke, et al. All things Buffy belong to Joss Whedon, All things Quantum Leap belong to Donald P. Bellisario
Summary: Sam Winchester and Sam Beckett (as Dean) travel to Bobby’s and Al tries to help but it all goes sideways very quickly.
A/N: So that Sam Beckett had not been leaping in time for 25 years, I have adjusted the time line to match up better. Sam Beckett’s present is 2015 (this is where Al is) and he has been leaping around for 3 years before he lands in Dean Winchester.
The other chapters are here:
Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8, Chapter 9, Chapter 10, Chapter 11, Chapter 12, Chapter 13
Chapter 6: The Road to Nowhere
They’d been on the road for a good 10 hours, stopping briefly for fuel and food. Dean had barely said two words to him. Sam tried to feel guilty about forcing Dean to do it his way, but he couldn’t. Saving Dean had consumed him for the past year. If being a selfish bastard was they only way to get Dean to keep moving forward, well, then they could both live with that.
He was alternating between watching Dean and trying to sleep. As he drifted toward consciousness this last time, he thought he heard Dean talking to someone.
Sam bolted upright worried that the hounds had come. “Who are you talking to?”
“What? Oh, go back to sleep, I am just talking to myself to stay awake.”
If that were true, why did he look like a kid caught out after curfew? Also, Dean kept taking furtive glances in the rear view mirror. Sam had noticed that ever since they’d left the canyon, Dean had been on edge. It was understandable that he would be overly restless and tense. Still, Sam was worried that Dean was losing it.
“Look, you’re tired, let me drive.” Sam figured he’d be turned down again knowing how Dean used driving to relax. Hell, Dean had driven all night, one time, after he’d been shot. So, he was genuinely surprised when Dean pulled off the next exit ramp and agreed to swap out.
Dean tossed him the keys and told him to fill’er up while he went for snacks. Sam was bewildered to see that Dean just pretended to head into the convenience store. He watched as Dean tried and failed to be subtle about sneaking around to the back of the building. What the Hell? Sam was abruptly blind sided by the idea that Dean wasn’t moving like Dean. Specifically, that air of self-confidence in his walk was missing. Stupidly, he had dismissed some of Dean’s odd behavior in the car earlier because, well, who wouldn’t be edgy knowing what could happen today. Thinking back over some of his more uncharacteristic reactions during the drive, Sam tried not to panic. Forgetting about the gas, he grabbed some supplies from the trunk and headed toward the back of the convenience store.
He leaned around the corner to catch a glimpse of Dean talking and gesturing at nothing. Sam realized he was listening to a one sided conversation and grew more concerned by the moment.
“So, no disease. He’s not dying after all?”
“And Ziggy really believes that he didn’t kill those girls?”
“Demons, you’re kidding right? Come on, Al.”
“Well, Dean’s insane and obviously, Sam is supporting his delusions. Or maybe he had a psychotic break as well, due to the death of his girlfriend.”
Sam had heard enough. He stepped out of the shadows with his gun drawn and yelled “Christo” while tossing holy water at Dean. Nothing happened. Sam didn’t think possession was the answer. Why possess something you would own in a few hours?
Dean cocked his head as if listening to an unseen entity. Then, shaking his head in disappointment, he said. “I am not a demon.” Dean’s voice took on a soft, calming, almost condescending tone. “I’m here to help, Sam. Now please put down the weapon.”
In his entire life, Dean had never spoken to him like that and it was making Sam furious. “What the Hell are you, who were you talking to and what have you done with my brother?”
“Sam, you’re delusional. You and I, we’ve been running from our imaginations. We need help. I’m seeing things more clearly, now.” Dean continued speaking as if he were trying to coax a jumper off the ledge of a high building. “There are no demons or hellhounds coming to harvest my soul.”
Sam just stared incredulously at this unfamiliar person wearing his brother’s face, who had the audacity to dismiss their whole lives as imaginary. Sam couldn’t help himself; he began to laugh.
“You’re kidding, right?” Was it possible that the stress of the deal had actually caused Dean to break from reality, to forget who he was?
“Sammy, please, I‘m serious.” Dean was trying hard to convince Sam he was delusional, but it was having the opposite effect.
“Don’t call me Sammy, you are not my brother,” Sam sneered. “I doubt you’re a shapeshifter or skinwalker, because you would have tried to kill me already and you are clearly not a demon. So, I’ll ask you again.” he paused to enunciate each word, “What are you?”
“Sam there are no such creatures. I am just your brother and I am trying to stop us from doing any more stupid things. Now, please give me the gun.” Dean looked at him with real pity on his face.
Stop looking at me like that. Sam wanted to scream at him. He felt himself coming apart at the edges. It had to be the crossroads demon tormenting him. She was obviously doing something to Dean to make the end even more horrific.
“Sam, let me help you.” Dean pleaded with him.
“Enough” Sam stared menacingly at the doppelganger. “I am done with this ridiculous conversation.” He would figure out what happened but right now it was beyond his capability to solve in a gas station parking lot. Bobby or Dawn would be able to help or maybe he could even contact Giles. Regardless, he still needed to get Dean to South Dakota and the safest way to do that was restrained.
Five minutes later Dean was trussed up and in the back seat. Sam had subdued Dean with surprising ease. It proved that, while Dean might not be anything supernatural, he sure as hell wasn’t himself. Sam was beginning to worry that either way, he’d already lost his brother.
***************
Sam Becket spent the next several hours trying to find a comfortable way to sit while tied up in the back seat of the Impala. He hadn’t been prepared for Sam’s sudden arrival while he’d been catching up with Al.
Periodically, Sam asked him who he was and what he’d done with the real Dean. Beckett just kept to the story that he was Dean and there were no demons after them and couldn’t they talk. Unfortunately, that line of response was just making Shaggy mad. Silence was safer.
The car pulled into a scrap yard and it seemed they’d finally arrived. Beckett watched as Sam walked up to the porch to greet a grizzled older man in a ball cap and hug a pretty young brunette. Dawn and Bobby, he assumed.
Al appeared in the seat beside Beckett. “Have you had any luck getting info from Dean?” Sam asked while still trying to keep an eye on the trio on the porch
Al nodded. “Some. I haven’t mentioned the time travel but Dean still thinks I’m crazy which makes us even, because I think he’s certifiable. Even so, he’s been answering my questions mostly because he’s trying to freak me out. Which, by the way, is working. Also, did I mention I find him to be an annoying, cocky, son of a bitch?” Al rubbed his throat remembering how Dean had tried to choke him.
“Get to the point Al. Dawn and Bobby?” Beckett nodded toward the house where the three are in deep conversation.
“Right, sorry, Sam. Bobby Singer is just a scrap yard owner. Nothing unusual. Dawn Summers, on the other hand, is a linguist working in Cleveland for an institute based in the UK called the Watcher’s Council.”
“Never heard of them.”
Once again, Al slapped the hand held and Sam had to wonder if that helped retrieve the data or if hitting it just made Al feel better. “Here it is. They are an Anthropological and Archaeological think tank and historical archive. Oh, on a side note, Dean mentioned that Dawn and Sam are quite the item. But he used more colorful language.”
Sam’s face showed his disbelief. “How the heck did someone like that get mixed up with two fugitives in South Dakota?”
Al snorted. “I asked Dean the same question. He says they met in a graveyard while taking out a nest of vampires in Cleveland.”
“Great, so now he’s just yanking your chain.” Sam would have thrown his arms up in disgust if they hadn’t been tied behind his back.
“Or she’s in on their delusion.” Al offered.
“That’s ridiculous Al, they can’t all be crazy. What the hell is going on?”
“Still talking to yourself, Dean?” Sam Winchester had snuck up on him again. Damn that boy moved like a panther. Shaggy yanked door of the Impala open and hauled him into the house.
They tied him to a chair in the middle of the room. Sam looked up to see some crazy designs on the ceiling and there were stacks of books everywhere. Shaggy and Dawn took turns reading prayers and poetry (?) to him. Beckett was able to translate a few of the Latin passages and realized they were exorcism rituals.
He had long since given up trying to convince them that he was Dean; but, Sam wasn’t ready to try to convince them he was a time traveler, either. His prevailing theory now was that they must be part of some kind of cult.
It was obvious his “condition” had them stumped. When the trio had finally given up for the night, he’d sent Al off to look for evidence of cult activity here and in Cleveland.
Sam Beckett had been leaping around for almost three years and he could never recall feeling so helpless. He’d been here almost two days and there appeared to be no way out of this leap. The mission was still unclear; no one was sick, dying or in need of rescue, mental illness aside. He’d prevented Dean from being eaten by wild dogs and yet he was still here tied to a chair. If the wall had been close enough, Sam Becket would have been banging his head against it.
A/N: Chapter title is The Road to Nowhere by Ozzy Osbourne
Chapter 7