Fic: A Strange Picture
Title: A Strange Picture (Sam spies a ninja)
Author: tinypinkmouse
Fandom(s): Supernatural/Naruto
Rating: R
Series: Read Between the Lines
Word Count: ~1500
Spoilers: I'd say nothing.
Warnings: Implied violence and dead people.
Summary: Sam's not sure what's going on, but he probably has a concussion.
Disclaimer: Yeah, no. Not mine.
Notes: As a bit of useless trivia; this was the second part of this series that I wrote. All I'd ever seen of Supernatural at the time was the last minute or so of Everybody Loves a Clown.
Previous parts:
Nothing At All Matters | Hot Showers and the Colour Orange | Steel and Song | Lullabies and Mommy Ghosts | My Sword and Your Knife | How Sammy Met Jess | Hug It Out | Fairy Tale In The Making | We Don't Need No Water | Eulogy For a Girl | How Many Friends Is Too Many | Not Some Imaginary Tale | Death is No Excuse | Sitting on a Rooftop
A Strange Picture,
Sam spies a ninja
All he has the time to notice is the sudden flurry of movement and even if he hadn't been bound to this actual damned stake there wouldn't be time to do anything. Dark shapes moving faster than he can see. And then everything seems frozen, like some bizarre picture he doesn't quite understand.
There's Dean, pointing a gun to where no one is standing anymore. And of course, he knew Dean would come. He always does.
And there's the completely useless demon worshipper lying on the floor. Sam knows dead when he sees it. No danger to anyone anymore.
"We can't just kill him." The memory of his own words echoes distantly in his mind. Old argument and Sam always wins, because Dean doesn't want to kill anyone any more than Sam does. But Dean has to make the argument, because he thinks it's the practical thing to do, that maybe that's what dad would do.
So once again Sam convinced Dean (Dean let himself be convinced) to try something else first. It had backfired and once again Sam is cast as the damsel in distress in this play Dean and him seem unable not to repeat. Sam is captured and once more Dean will have to rescue him.
He tries to ignore the tinge of bitterness that shadows his thoughts. At least sometimes they get to do things the other way around.
Sam can't exactly be upset that tall, blond and all around crazy is dead now. Because as much as he doesn't want people to die, he was about to sacrifice Sam. The guy was human, but he wasn't exactly innocent.
But no shots were fired. Dean is standing just a few steps inside the room, gun held at the ready, but still unused.
Sam's eyes turn away from his brother in this strange and quiet tableau. For once Dean is only in the background, an afterthought added to an already finished picture. Important only because he is Dean.
In Sam's eyes Dean can never stay completely in the background. Sam's eyes will always seek out his brother. Instinct, training, love. Call it what you will, it doesn't need explanations, it just is and Sam has long since been satisfied to call it simply Dean.
Then he looks at the quiet form standing over the now dead would-be demon worshipper. It's like the world has suddenly been bleached of colour.
Black bangs fall into a pale face, the head is tilted downwards and Sam can't make out much. Sam's eyes fall downwards, the pale flesh of bare hands a stark contrast against the all black clothing. And there, in delicate looking hands the only colour in that stark black and white picture. Sharp steel and crimson blood.
A sword. No, a distant part of Sam's mind notes, a katana, or maybe that's just pop culture talking. It doesn't matter though, because the kid, as far as Sam can tell it is a kid, just killed someone with a fucking sword. And while it happened to be a crazy, demon worshipping someone, the kid still stuck a sword through a human being.
"Dean?" Sam asks, his voice a mix of relief and caution and an edge of what the fuck is going on.
Dean lowers the gun and looks at Sam. Sam can see the relief flash through his brother's eyes as they take in Sam and the lack of any obvious injuries. There isn't anything to find. The worst of it chafed wrists and a headache.
And what if Dean had come just a few moments later? He brushes the question aside with practiced ease. If he stayed to think about things like that, he wouldn't survive for long.
Besides it wasn't exactly Dean who saved him, now was it?
He looks back towards the pale, black haired kid, to see that he's wiping the blood of the katana, his sometimes over pedantic mind insists on the term and he still isn't sure it's right. And it wouldn't be so bad, except that he's wiping the blood off on the shirt of his victim, seeming entirely unconcerned by the fact that the man is dead.
"Dean?" He asks again, though this time there's more demand and less question. And if he sounds a tiny bit freaked out… well, considering the circumstances he thinks he's entitled to.
"Sammy…" Dean starts to say while taking a few steps towards him. And why the hell doesn't he seem the slightest bit concerned about the katana wielding kid he must have brought with him, because that's the only explanation that makes any sense. Except for the fact that even that doesn't make any sense.
Whatever Dean had been about to tell him, never gets to be said as there's a sudden thump at the doorway. Sam's eyes dart to the noise and suddenly everything seems even more bizarre.
"This was the only other one," a sunny blond grins, while prodding the body he just dropped to the ground with a foot.
Distantly Sam recognises the other crazy bastard who'd been responsible for him ending up in this situation. Later he really has to wonder about the fact that there was only two of them, because him and Dean should have been able to handle two normal, albeit crazy, humans. Right now though, Sam can't quite believe his eyes.
Because the sight of black and white and crimson blood on sharp steel had been disturbing. And maybe it's strange that in his crazy world of supernatural monsters, the sight of what at seems completely human freaks him out a whole hell of a lot more than any monster does. But what he's looking at now manages to disturb him even more.
It might be the cheerfulness, combined with the dead body. The laughter dancing in sky blue eyes and the amused grin seem completely out of place. And it doesn't help at all that the blond's black cargo pants have garishly orange seams and that the t-shirt under his black jacket is the same bright colour.
Sam doesn't remember ever seeing that shade of bright orange on anyone outside of Halloween. It just seems somehow fundamentally wrong, in a way Sam can't begin to explain, for someone who was just carrying a dead body to wear that shade of hurt-my-eyes orange.
"Really, Dean," the blond continues cheerfully. "What did you need us for? You could have taken care of this on your own. Not that we mind giving you hand with this, we were here anyway, but it's not like you needed us." The blond whines slightly as he walks up to Dean and pokes at him.
A part of Sam's mind is busy noticing things like the fact that the blond is short, which is suddenly very noticeable now that he's standing right next to Dean, and his English is slightly accented in a way that Sam automatically connects with something Asian. Mostly though Sam is starting to suspect that he's probably still unconscious and this is some really strange dream. Maybe he should start worrying about his own sanity.
"Right, bastard?" The blond continues on just as cheerful as ever, glancing toward the black haired kid. "Dean could have handled this on his own, couldn't he?"
"Hn." Is all the noise the other kid makes and… Sam blinks as he looks towards the black-and-white kid with more attention. Where did the katana go? There's no edged weapons to be seen anywhere and the kid is looking at the blond and if there's any sort of expression on that face it might be faintly annoyed, but Sam can't really tell.
Dean doesn't seem to be listening though, as he bends down to cut away the ropes binding Sam to the stake. That doesn't really make sense either. A stake? But right now Sam is more than willing to let it go. They had been dealing with two crazy people after all and Sam wasn't that up to speed on demon summoning. And he's pretty sure neither were the two trying to do the actual summoning.
"You okay Sammy?" his brother asks as the ropes fall away.
Sam rubs at his wrists and nods. "Yeah, I'm fine." He doesn't doubt that his brother can hear the relief and gratitude that once again goes unmentioned.
He looks at the two other people. They're both looking at him and the blond has fallen silent and is smiling quietly, quite a difference from the earlier over energetic cheerfulness. And he can't read anything into the dark haired kid's blank expression, which is unnerving in itself.
"You've got some explaining to do though," he tells his brother.
"I thought I might need some help," Dean shrugs. And Sam knows Dean isn't one to go for help without a good reason (or at all), not for his own sake anyway.
As they walk past the dead bodies Sam can't help but look. They're human.
"They were about to kill you Sammy," Dean says in a tone that Sam recognises. There's no use arguing with that tone, not that Sam doesn't sometimes anyway, but he knows it's useless.
When he looks away from the body the two kids are already gone.
Sequel: Home Is Where the Heart Is (And other things I'll never say)
Author: tinypinkmouse
Fandom(s): Supernatural/Naruto
Rating: R
Series: Read Between the Lines
Word Count: ~1500
Spoilers: I'd say nothing.
Warnings: Implied violence and dead people.
Summary: Sam's not sure what's going on, but he probably has a concussion.
Disclaimer: Yeah, no. Not mine.
Notes: As a bit of useless trivia; this was the second part of this series that I wrote. All I'd ever seen of Supernatural at the time was the last minute or so of Everybody Loves a Clown.
Previous parts:
Nothing At All Matters | Hot Showers and the Colour Orange | Steel and Song | Lullabies and Mommy Ghosts | My Sword and Your Knife | How Sammy Met Jess | Hug It Out | Fairy Tale In The Making | We Don't Need No Water | Eulogy For a Girl | How Many Friends Is Too Many | Not Some Imaginary Tale | Death is No Excuse | Sitting on a Rooftop
A Strange Picture,
Sam spies a ninja
All he has the time to notice is the sudden flurry of movement and even if he hadn't been bound to this actual damned stake there wouldn't be time to do anything. Dark shapes moving faster than he can see. And then everything seems frozen, like some bizarre picture he doesn't quite understand.
There's Dean, pointing a gun to where no one is standing anymore. And of course, he knew Dean would come. He always does.
And there's the completely useless demon worshipper lying on the floor. Sam knows dead when he sees it. No danger to anyone anymore.
"We can't just kill him." The memory of his own words echoes distantly in his mind. Old argument and Sam always wins, because Dean doesn't want to kill anyone any more than Sam does. But Dean has to make the argument, because he thinks it's the practical thing to do, that maybe that's what dad would do.
So once again Sam convinced Dean (Dean let himself be convinced) to try something else first. It had backfired and once again Sam is cast as the damsel in distress in this play Dean and him seem unable not to repeat. Sam is captured and once more Dean will have to rescue him.
He tries to ignore the tinge of bitterness that shadows his thoughts. At least sometimes they get to do things the other way around.
Sam can't exactly be upset that tall, blond and all around crazy is dead now. Because as much as he doesn't want people to die, he was about to sacrifice Sam. The guy was human, but he wasn't exactly innocent.
But no shots were fired. Dean is standing just a few steps inside the room, gun held at the ready, but still unused.
Sam's eyes turn away from his brother in this strange and quiet tableau. For once Dean is only in the background, an afterthought added to an already finished picture. Important only because he is Dean.
In Sam's eyes Dean can never stay completely in the background. Sam's eyes will always seek out his brother. Instinct, training, love. Call it what you will, it doesn't need explanations, it just is and Sam has long since been satisfied to call it simply Dean.
Then he looks at the quiet form standing over the now dead would-be demon worshipper. It's like the world has suddenly been bleached of colour.
Black bangs fall into a pale face, the head is tilted downwards and Sam can't make out much. Sam's eyes fall downwards, the pale flesh of bare hands a stark contrast against the all black clothing. And there, in delicate looking hands the only colour in that stark black and white picture. Sharp steel and crimson blood.
A sword. No, a distant part of Sam's mind notes, a katana, or maybe that's just pop culture talking. It doesn't matter though, because the kid, as far as Sam can tell it is a kid, just killed someone with a fucking sword. And while it happened to be a crazy, demon worshipping someone, the kid still stuck a sword through a human being.
"Dean?" Sam asks, his voice a mix of relief and caution and an edge of what the fuck is going on.
Dean lowers the gun and looks at Sam. Sam can see the relief flash through his brother's eyes as they take in Sam and the lack of any obvious injuries. There isn't anything to find. The worst of it chafed wrists and a headache.
And what if Dean had come just a few moments later? He brushes the question aside with practiced ease. If he stayed to think about things like that, he wouldn't survive for long.
Besides it wasn't exactly Dean who saved him, now was it?
He looks back towards the pale, black haired kid, to see that he's wiping the blood of the katana, his sometimes over pedantic mind insists on the term and he still isn't sure it's right. And it wouldn't be so bad, except that he's wiping the blood off on the shirt of his victim, seeming entirely unconcerned by the fact that the man is dead.
"Dean?" He asks again, though this time there's more demand and less question. And if he sounds a tiny bit freaked out… well, considering the circumstances he thinks he's entitled to.
"Sammy…" Dean starts to say while taking a few steps towards him. And why the hell doesn't he seem the slightest bit concerned about the katana wielding kid he must have brought with him, because that's the only explanation that makes any sense. Except for the fact that even that doesn't make any sense.
Whatever Dean had been about to tell him, never gets to be said as there's a sudden thump at the doorway. Sam's eyes dart to the noise and suddenly everything seems even more bizarre.
"This was the only other one," a sunny blond grins, while prodding the body he just dropped to the ground with a foot.
Distantly Sam recognises the other crazy bastard who'd been responsible for him ending up in this situation. Later he really has to wonder about the fact that there was only two of them, because him and Dean should have been able to handle two normal, albeit crazy, humans. Right now though, Sam can't quite believe his eyes.
Because the sight of black and white and crimson blood on sharp steel had been disturbing. And maybe it's strange that in his crazy world of supernatural monsters, the sight of what at seems completely human freaks him out a whole hell of a lot more than any monster does. But what he's looking at now manages to disturb him even more.
It might be the cheerfulness, combined with the dead body. The laughter dancing in sky blue eyes and the amused grin seem completely out of place. And it doesn't help at all that the blond's black cargo pants have garishly orange seams and that the t-shirt under his black jacket is the same bright colour.
Sam doesn't remember ever seeing that shade of bright orange on anyone outside of Halloween. It just seems somehow fundamentally wrong, in a way Sam can't begin to explain, for someone who was just carrying a dead body to wear that shade of hurt-my-eyes orange.
"Really, Dean," the blond continues cheerfully. "What did you need us for? You could have taken care of this on your own. Not that we mind giving you hand with this, we were here anyway, but it's not like you needed us." The blond whines slightly as he walks up to Dean and pokes at him.
A part of Sam's mind is busy noticing things like the fact that the blond is short, which is suddenly very noticeable now that he's standing right next to Dean, and his English is slightly accented in a way that Sam automatically connects with something Asian. Mostly though Sam is starting to suspect that he's probably still unconscious and this is some really strange dream. Maybe he should start worrying about his own sanity.
"Right, bastard?" The blond continues on just as cheerful as ever, glancing toward the black haired kid. "Dean could have handled this on his own, couldn't he?"
"Hn." Is all the noise the other kid makes and… Sam blinks as he looks towards the black-and-white kid with more attention. Where did the katana go? There's no edged weapons to be seen anywhere and the kid is looking at the blond and if there's any sort of expression on that face it might be faintly annoyed, but Sam can't really tell.
Dean doesn't seem to be listening though, as he bends down to cut away the ropes binding Sam to the stake. That doesn't really make sense either. A stake? But right now Sam is more than willing to let it go. They had been dealing with two crazy people after all and Sam wasn't that up to speed on demon summoning. And he's pretty sure neither were the two trying to do the actual summoning.
"You okay Sammy?" his brother asks as the ropes fall away.
Sam rubs at his wrists and nods. "Yeah, I'm fine." He doesn't doubt that his brother can hear the relief and gratitude that once again goes unmentioned.
He looks at the two other people. They're both looking at him and the blond has fallen silent and is smiling quietly, quite a difference from the earlier over energetic cheerfulness. And he can't read anything into the dark haired kid's blank expression, which is unnerving in itself.
"You've got some explaining to do though," he tells his brother.
"I thought I might need some help," Dean shrugs. And Sam knows Dean isn't one to go for help without a good reason (or at all), not for his own sake anyway.
As they walk past the dead bodies Sam can't help but look. They're human.
"They were about to kill you Sammy," Dean says in a tone that Sam recognises. There's no use arguing with that tone, not that Sam doesn't sometimes anyway, but he knows it's useless.
When he looks away from the body the two kids are already gone.
Sequel: Home Is Where the Heart Is (And other things I'll never say)