May. 8th, 2014


Sam really didn't like to make a big deal out of his Birthday. It was just another day. It'd never really been a special day to him. He didn't get a new BMX every year and a pocketful of dollars to bu neat stuff as a kid. He never got the latest must-have toys. Most years he didn't even get a card from his dad. It was just the way things were.

Still, as a hunter, given their lifestyle and unusually short lifespans, he should probably celebrate every Birthday he gets as a big 'fuck you' to the universe for managing not to die (again).

Acknowledging his Birthday and going all out crazy were different things though. And while he had agreed to celebrate with Jo, he was really hoping it'd be something quiet. No surprise parties or wild nights out on the town...

Jul. 11th, 2013


for [info]likely_good

Twenty nine Earth years. That was how long Gene Hunt had been trapped in Hell. Twenty nine bloody years. Of course, time worked differently downstairs. Downstairs twenty nine years was nothing. Downstairs Gene had done 3480 Hell years. 3480 years of non-stop torture. And yet somehow, through it all he managed to cling on to those shreds of humanity and that light in his soul.

The trip from Hell back to Earth was a blur. Every time he tried to remember the thoughts just blanked. But one thing was for sure - the world had changed a heck of a lot while he had been gone. Adjusting to the new face paced world was hard. He felt as though he didn't quite fit in, more now than he ever had in the Eighties. And oddly enough, 3480 years hadn't aged him a day.

His goal? Hunt down Jim fucking Keats and kill the smarmy son of a bitch once and for all. The bastard had been the one to drag him downstairs and tear his kingdom apart and now the bastard demonic scum had to pay. Problem? He had no fucking clue where to even start.

He found himself in an internet cafe somewhere in Ohio - fucking Hellgate brining him out in bloody Yankieland! And what was with the internet? It was like magic in a box! Anyway, he found himself in an internet cafe doing a Google search on demons. Good times.


for [info]daddysknife

The Fourth of July, much like Christmas, Birthdays, Thanksgiving and every other holiday ever had always been pretty much normal days for the Winchesters. Things didn't just stop going bump in the night because it was a national holiday. And it was kind of hard to throw a big family barbecue when your whole family was dead and you didn't have a house with a garden.

"Hey Jo, I got us some more beer." Didn't mean they could try though, right? The Winchester way.

Mar. 21st, 2013


for [info]likely_good

Sam had been quiet for most of the ride. Once they got back to the Batcave he had taken himself off to his room. He couldn't shake the feeling they'd just been on one hell of an emotional rollercoaster without any warning. Sure, their lives were one big emotional rollercoaster, but seriously, what the hell had just happened?

They'd lost the Angel Tablet. They'd lost the Angel. And they left Meg to be butchered by Crowley. He really wasn't seeing too many positive outcomes to the events.

And on top of that was Cas telling them Sam was broken in ways even he couldn't fix. Sam knew he was in a bad way but it was kind of a reality check. And that was only after one trial. It really drove home the idea that he probably wasn't going to survive these trials.

Life was so much simpler when they were hunting down Wendigos and Vampires.

Feb. 14th, 2013


for [info]likely_good

Sam had showered. Showered again. And then showered a third time, but he could still feel the damn hellhound blood on his skin, and he couldn't stop rubbing at his arm. Ugh. The things he did for the sake of the friggin' world, man. Seriously. This gig should come with health benefits, or at least a decent pension. And a paid vacation every once in awhile.

Eventually he dragged his ass out of the shower and changed into clean clothes, grabbed the first aid box and went to find Dean. He poked his head around the door of Dean's room, guessing that's where he would be hiding. "Gonna let me look at your wounds and redress them or you being a pissy little bitch?"

Feb. 7th, 2013


for [info]lost_my_shoe

The music was nice. It was a little old, fancy, and definitely something Henry would have liked, but it was relaxing and that was what Dean liked about it. He was sure it helped Sam concentrate on all his writing, as well, and Dean smirked to himself as Sam sat there working. It was damn good to actually have a place to head back to when things were crappy and they didn't need to drive too far to get here. It was weird, of course, that it was in Kansas, but he was happy as long as it wasn't Lawrence.

Tapping his fingers against his glass as he listened to the music, Dean tilted his head back against the chair, closing his eyes for a few minutes. He was proud of Sam, glad to see him really taking to this Men Of Letters thing, and he was pretty damn sure if anyone was going to be an awesome Man Of Letters, it was going to be Sam.

Toeing off his boots, Dean watched them thud to the floor and then returned his feet to the table, wriggling his toes to ease some of the ache in his feet.

"Think the golem and his little rabbi dude are gonna be okay?" He wasn't particularly worried, just curious. After all, he was more concerned on whether the damn thing would go renegade and they'd have to put it down.

Regardless, he was happy for now, Sam was in his own little Heaven on Earth with all these books, and they could relax.

Feb. 1st, 2013


for [info]likely_good

Sam had been almost completely silent. Withdrawn into his mind, into his own little bubble, away from the cruel harsh reality of just how messy and fucked up their lives truly were. Sam was convinced they really were cursed and it sucked...

Not to mention the crushing weight of guilt he had on his shoulders. He blamed himself for all of it. All the bad luck their family had, all the shit that hit the fan it was all on him. All because some higher power decided he was 'special'. He didn't want to be special. Mom, Dad, Jess, hell, even Samuel. And now Henry? All of them paid the price to ensure Sam and Dean were pawns on the chess board...

He shifted in his seat, turning his attention to the scenery passing by the car window in a blur. Fate was a bitch.


for [info]lost_my_shoe

There was no doubt in Dean's mind, as he slowly opened his eyes to the offensively well lit cabin, at what had to be no later than 6am, that things were going to be very, very awkward. The scent of sex lingered in the air and Dean was sure that he was going to be in pain for days on end, but they didn't have anywhere to be or any leads or any cases, and for now they really could just take a little break.

Dragging himself out of bed, Dean staggered to the bathroom, wincing at the pain in his lower back as he got going on his morning routine. As soon as he'd used the toilet, washed his hands, brushed his teeth and kind of attempted to wash his face by rubbing cold water over it, he shuffled his way back into the main room of the cabin, wondering what the Hell to do about breakfast.

Then he saw Sam asleep and couldn't help himself as he headed over, giving his little brother a shove on the shoulder to wake him.

Jan. 22nd, 2013


for [info]likely_good

So in the end the Winchesters had chosen family over all else (again). Sometimes it seemed a never-ending cycle - something coming between them, threatening their entire relationship and then them ultimately choosing each other. Maybe it was because they were the only constant in each other's life... Of course, each time it happened it was harder to move past. It was like a wound. Each time it was like digging deeper and deeper, and each time you did it took longer to heal.

Being a hunter was hard. It wasn't a job, it was a lifestyle. And once you were in there was no getting out. God knows Sam had tried enough times. All he'd ever wanted was to be normal. He wanted a house with a mortgage and a fixed address. He wanted to mow the lawn every weekend. He wanted a wife and kids and a dog. But every time he got out something dragged him right back in again. The worst part was you couldn't have both. You couldn't have the perfect apple pie life and still save people. It just didn't work. It was one or the other.

This time Sam had been sure he'd choose the apple pie life. He had a woman that loved him. A woman who was prepared to leave her husband to be with him. And a dog that was as loyal and gentle as anything. He'd been so close. All he had to do was turn up. Yet in the end, he'd stayed with Dean. In the end it all came down to family.