comment_fic 401-405: Highlander/Mag 7, WC/Chuck, Batman, SN
Title: the name died before the man
Fandom: Highlander/Magnificent Seven ATF AU
Disclaimer: not my characters; title from AE Housman
Warnings: AU
Pairings: none stated
Rating: PG
Wordcount:360
Point of view: third
Prompt: Highlander/Mag 7, Methos/Ezra, someone he knew a long time ago has just walked back into his life
"We'll be bringing in a linguist to translate," Travis says, concluding the meeting. "Get back to work."
Ezra waits until his teammates have left, rereading the last page in his folder, and then he says, "You know, of course, that I could translate. Babylonian is my native tongue, after all."
"I know," Travis says. "But that would ruin your cover this life, wouldn't it?"
Grinning, Ezra rises, closing the folder. He gives Travis a sloppy salute as he walks out the meeting room.
o0o
It is a peculiar case, gunrunners using a form of Babylonian to pass information. Ezra had recognized the language immediately, but it took three days before the ATF could identify it.
The linguist is named Adam Matthews. Ezra senses him before he sets foot in the building.
Methos walks out the elevator dressed in jeans and a red shirt. Travis greets him, calls the team, and leads the way to the conference room.
o0o
"Dr. Matthews," Travis says later, after the case is closed and the gunrunners caught, their operation in tatters and their leader dead in a shoot-out, "please, allow me to take you to Denver's premier restaurant."
"Of course, Agent Travis," Methos says. "Right now, though, I'd really enjoy a piece of cheesecake. Do you know where I could find one?"
Ezra saunters over, declaring, "I know this little diner with the best cheesecake in the state. If our illustrious leader gives me the afternoon off, I can show you."
Travis and Chris share a look. "You did good work for this case, Ezra," Chris says. "Take the afternoon."
o0o
Ezra orders the cheesecake to go. He and Methos eat it at Ezra's dinner table, speaking in a dozen different languages, of people long dead and places long lost to time.
The last time they saw each other, the United States did not exist. Much has changed since then.
"Are you having fun, Ezekiel?" Methos asks.
Grinning, Ezra nods. "They're a good team, Methos." He pauses before adding, "Better than yours."
Methos scoffs. "We ruled the world, kid. All yours does is clean up the streets."
Ezra laughs, standing to pour himself a glass of milk.
Title: For years I told this story all wrong
Fandom: White Collar/Chuck
Disclaimer: not my characters; title from Betsy Sholl
Warnings: spoilers for Chuck season 2
Pairings: one-sided Bryce/Chuck, pre-Peter/Bryce!Neal
Rating: PG
Wordcount: 250
Point of view: third
Prompt: Chuck/White Collar, Bryce!Neal, he'd really only ever had one best friend
It shocked everyone back home when that pretty little trailer slut made it into Stanford. His grades were subpar, except for math, but he tested exceptionally well. And if a few changes were made to various records, no one really needed to know, right?
Bryce Larkin changed everything about himself when he went to Stanford, including his name. Bryce Larkin didn't exist before Stanford, and he wouldn't exist after. And he really only regretted one thing about the whole CIA/Fulcrum/ Ring business, and that was leaving Chuck behind.
Chuck liked Bryce for his geekiness and his smarts and the self-defense lessons that Chuck never mastered at all and that Bryce taught himself Klingon simply because Chuck wanted a thing just for them.
And then Bryce stabbed Chuck in the back, for his own good, though Chuck didn't know it at the time.
But Stanford is gone, and Bryce Larkin is dead, and Neal Caffrey only served a year of his time, though records will say otherwise. Maintaining two lives parallel to each other is supremely difficult, and without Kate's help he couldn't have done it. He really did love her, but he also used to wish, while holding her or kissing her or planning with her, that she was taller and stronger and spoke Klingon.
And now that he's Neal Caffrey full time-unless told otherwise by the FBI-he has Peter. And he could come to love Peter, given time.
But Peter will never be Chuck.
Title: like the cat I have nine times to die
Fandom: Batman Under the Red Hood
Disclaimer: not my characters; title from Sylvia Plath
Warnings: AUish
Pairings: pre-Jason/Tim
Rating: PG
Wordcount: 330
Point of view: third
Prompt: DCU, Jason/Tim, A Lonely Place of Dying
Notes: All I know about Tim, I learned from fanfiction.
o
the first time
Alone but for the Joker's cackle, still echoing in the air. Whole body screaming, shutting down, and then, 3 2 1-
Even without the explosion, he was already dead.
the second time
Good Samaritans are hard to find, and far in-between, but she's a nurse and she sees him bleeding on the street and she actually keeps him alive-barely-until her sister brings around the car.
He wakes up unexpectedly and wonders, for a moment, why.
the third, fourth, fifth, sixth time
Pure determination and will, hatred, fanatic need for vengeance: he will not die before he sees the Joker's broken corpse.
the seventh time
Batman pulls him from a fire. Patches him up at the Cave. He opens his eyes to see his Robin uniform and Alfred, a few tears on his face.
the eighth time
He's actually on vacation in Metropolis and Superman saves him, that time, when some new supervillian knocks down a building. Superman hugs him after he regains consciousness, holding him gently and saying, "I'm so glad you're not dead, Jason, no matter what you do now. But your heart has always been in the right place. You've just lost your way a bit."
the ninth time
The new kid, his replacement, Bruce's newest project, has a smart mouth and no idea of when to stay quiet. And the Joker, he has no patience with smartasses, unless they're him.
And the new kid, he looks so young, standing proud before the Joker, trying to hide the fear. But Jason's been there, and he can see how terrified the kid is.
Jason keeps waiting for Bruce to swoop in and save Robin, but he knows Batman will be too late.
So he plunges down, guns blazing, and the Joker takes three bullets-one between the eyes, one in the heart, one to his dick.
And this time, when the building explodes, Red Hood is covering Robin's body with his own, so Robin survives.
Title: don't you cry no more
Fandom: Supernatural
Disclaimer: not my characters
Warnings: spoilers for season 5
Pairings: none
Rating: PG
Wordcount: 155
Point of view: third
Prompt: any, The field where I died
After the world doesn't end, after Sammy jumps into Hell and pulls Lucifer, Michael, and Adam down with him, after Castiel goes to Heaven, and after Bobby goes home, Dean returns to an empty field in Illinois. Trees are still down in a perfect circle, and there's still a sad-looking cross at the head of a shallow grave.
Dean sits at the edge of the hole, placing one hand on the cross. Sam dug him this grave, and Sam fashioned this cross, and Sam laid him to rest here. Sam always knew he'd come back. Sam always knew that goodbye wouldn't last, Lilith's hound and Lilith's laugh.
But this time… Dean doesn't know what to do. He made a promise to Sammy. Now he has to decide if that promise is as empty as his multiple graves.
He closes his eyes, listening for his baby brother's voice, hoping that Sam is listening for him, too.
Title: haven't we been here before?
Fandom: Supernatural
Disclaimer: not my characters
Warnings: AU; spoilers for everything aired
Pairings: pre-Michael/Sam
Rating: PG
Wordcount: 700
Point of view: third
Prompt: Dean (or Dean/Sam if author prefers), Dean is a rogue angel
Sam Winchester is an orphaned only child. His mother died in a house fire, his father in a drunk-driving accident, and he was raised by good, God-fearing folk in Wichita, Kansas. He's known for as long as he can remember that he wasn't their son. He knows they only took him in for the points such a selfless act might get them when they die. But still, they treated him well: made sure he was clothed, fed, and sheltered. They didn't love him, though. He always knew they didn't love him.
When Sam is twenty-three, after he's been at Stanford for four years with plans for law school and a fiancée named Jessica, he wakes up in a ghost town among half a dozen others. They each have abilities, stuff from fantasy novels and sci-fi movies. Sam hadn't thought his dreams meant anything, but he's seen all these people before.
And one by one, they die. Sam relies on instincts he didn't know he had to stay ahead of the killer, and then Ava is smirking at him, Ava who he saw, months ago, kill a man who tried to kill her. And then Jake, superstrong Jake who lifted a car off his buddy, snaps Ava's neck, and he looks at Sam with apologetic eyes.
(In Hell, Alistair's greatest pupil breaks the First Seal by saying yes and taking the razor and slicing down. She doesn't remember her parents or her husband or her miscarriage five years before her son was born.)
Jake lunges for Sam, who knows he can't win. Jake's a superstrong trained soldier. Sam goes to the gym twice a week and knows a little self-defense he doesn't usually need since he's a head over six feet tall. But Sam has a silver-tongue, so as he dodges back and to the left, he starts talking. He just lets the words flow, bullshit and entreaties and plans for how they can work together, him and Jake, figure out what that yellow-eyed bastard wants and then go their own way. Hell, they could rule the world.
But Jake doesn't listen and keeps going for Sam, a dull, rusty knife in hand, and Sam knows he's dead.
And the moment Jake touches him, something throws Jake off. He hits the ground hard enough to go half a foot in, and his body is broken. Sam can tell from where he still stands, gasping for air.
That something is suddenly there, standing next to Sam. He's a little over six feet tall, with dark blond hair and hazel eyes, and he's got to be the prettiest man Sam's ever seen. He turns to face Sam, head tilted and gaze sharp, and he says, "So you're Sam Winchester. Huh."
More people are with them, appearing out of nowhere-a small woman with red hair, a short guy with long brown hair, and a guy dressed like John Constantine.
"What the fuck?" Sam asks. The first guy laughs and Sam is hit with déjà vu so strong he shakes from it. He's dreamed about this guy, whoever he is. Dreamed about them all.
"My name is Michael," the guy says. "These are Anachel, Gabriel, and Castiel."
And no, that's not right, Sam's sure of it. But as the guy, Michael, keeps talking, the certainty slips away.
(The Final Seal is never broken. Lucifer stays in his cage, Michael destroys Zachariah, and Chuck Shurley never finds a publisher.
Sam Winchester is an orphaned only child, his mother is never Raised from Hell, and his father spends eternity reliving his wedding night in Heaven.
And Sam dreams about another life, sometimes, where he had an older brother named Dean who never said yes to the archangel Michael. But when he wakes to Michael smiling at him, he ignores those dreams and doesn't wonder about the vessel housing Michael in this life.
Anachel tells him, once, that if an angel is powerful enough they can create a vessel. And Castiel mentions, offhand, that Michael had watched Sam for a long time before approaching him in Cold Oak. Gabriel likes to mock Michael for his voyeuristic tendencies, and taken all-together, Sam's subconscious knows what he never truly realizes.)