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Title: Not The Road I See Ahead - Verse One
By: kellifer_fic
Fandom: SPN
Rating: PG (language/adult themes)
Category: Gen - apocafuturefic
Words: 1,147
Disclaimer: Don't own, don't sue, no money!
Spoilers: None
Notes: Prequel to Not The World I Left Behind - can be read as a standalone.
Summary: Between blinks, Sam Winchester loses his brother.
Prologue | Verse One | Verse Two | Verse Three | Verse Four | Verse Five
Verse One – The Hand of Fate
Thirty days had never felt like a particularly long time to Sam but it seemed it was just enough for the world to turn truly upside down. Sam sat in the Impala, hands idly stroking the dash and knowing he was going to have to give her up pretty soon. The roads were becoming more and more impassable and it was just going to keep getting worse.
Thirty days.
He knew it was a little desperate to be backtracking like he was. Missouri had certainly not liked him ranging out, further each time. She worried and she couldn’t feel him anymore, like the world switching over had switched something on in Sam.
That was for damn sure.
He looked at the big iron gates of the gallery, overgrown with tendrils of ivy and passionfruit. The road out front was deserted like most but that didn’t necessarily mean anything. The fact that he’d found nothing but emptiness or death as he’d looked for others, using his own version of his dad’s journal as a kind of address book for the people who could possibly weather the storm, not freeze when the bad things came, didn’t deter him.
Please, Sam thought. Please let me find just one.
He was out of the car and halfway up the curved drive that led to the gate when he felt eyes on him. Sam turned in a slow circle, hand moving to the gun he had tucked into the back of his jeans when a figure appeared just inside the gate.
“Sam?”
“Sarah!” Sam exclaimed, because no matter his fervent wish, he hadn’t actually been expecting to find her here, safe and alive. He approached the gate at a jog and Sarah moved further into view, hair a dark tumble over her shoulders and hands coming up like she could hug him through the bars. Sam stopped though, just out of reach and grimaced. “You mind?” he asked, taking his hand off his gun and pulling the flask of holy water out instead that he kept in his front pocket.
Sarah blinked for a moment but then shrugged. “Sure. Better to be safe than possessed, right?” She stood patiently as Sam uncapped the flask and dashed a bit of water through the gate, fine droplets landing on her face and chest. Sarah didn’t so much as flinch and Sam felt something let go in his chest.
Sarah didn’t even wait for Sam to put the flask back in his pocket before she was unchaining the fence and yanking it open. Sam put a hand out when she got close and Sarah stopped, looking puzzled.
“I can’t… ever since… I can’t have anyone touching me,” Sam explained. Sarah had had her arms up and out but dropped them to her sides.
“Why not?”
“I’ll explain, I promise. Just, not right now. How did you survive here?” Sam pressed. He looked passed Sarah’s shoulder to the gallery behind her, a converted mansion that was looking like it had seen better days. Sam moved through the gate when Sarah stepped back and followed her finger when she pointed.
The whole property was ringed by a brick wall and just inside that was a line of white, following the base as it disappeared behind the gallery. “They can’t get in,” Sarah said as Sam realised that the white line was a thick ring of salt. “They stand at the gate and wail. They call to me and sing but I don’t… I remember what you said. I freshen the salt every day but I was running out and I was so scared that I… oh god Sam.” Sarah seemed to forget what Sam had warned her because she tripped forward and he automatically reached to catch her in his arms.
Images flashed through Sam’s mind as Sarah made contact, a life compacted into a matter of moments that pressed on him from the inside out and made him feel like his skin would rip and tear away from his frame. Sam let out a choked bark of agony and staggered backwards, Sarah releasing her hold with a gasp as Sam hit the ground on his knees and hands, taking the skin off his palms.
“I’m sorry! What did I-?” One of Sarah’s hands landed on Sam’s shoulder and he cried out again because fear, pain, love – the condensed Sarah pours into him with no filter and it’s bright, too much for him to absorb in a single breath.
The gate had been left open and as Sarah snatched her hand away and Sam rolled to his back something dark and fetid slid through with a gibber of triumph.
000
Sam opened his eyes to find he was in a sun dappled room. Dust motes twirled lazily about in the shafts of light and there was a blanket thrown over his legs. There was still a dull ache behind his temple so Sam sat up slowly, trying not to jostle the pain into wakefulness.
Sarah was curled on a couch opposite, book open in her lap and head dropped on her arm. Sam reached out a tentative hand, brushing a lock of hair that had fallen over her eyes and tucked it behind her ear. Touching her, there was an echo that ebbed at his mind but nothing like what he got when she touched him. Sam pushed it aside, trained enough by Missouri to do that small thing.
“Sam Winchester, as I live and breathe.”
Sam jerked and almost fell off the day bed he’d been placed on before he caught sight of a man standing in the doorway of the living room, hands jammed in the pockets of his jeans. He was looking a little battered and worse for wear but also familiar.
“Deacon?”
“One and the same,” Deacon nodded, stepping into the room properly as Sarah stirred. She sat up and wiped at her mouth with the back of her hand, grimacing.
“Hey, sorry. I didn’t mean to fall asleep.”
“Not to worry young lady,” Deacon said with a wry grin. “Not many places safe to sleep these days, you should snatch some while you can.”
“What are you doing here?” Sam asked, too shocked by Deacon’s presence to be relieved. He knew something happened right before he passed out and Deacon was probably responsible for him being alive but…
“Was followin’ a Tatter, thought it might lead me to something larger because it was making for here like its ass was on fire.” Deacon walked a hand to his chin and then rubbed, raising an eyebrow. “I wasn’t exactly expecting to find a Winchester. Last I heard you were all dead.”
Sam felt something clench inside because that wasn’t exactly true. He hadn’t seen Dean in a month but he knew… knew that his brother was still alive. Just not exactly in the driver’s seat in his own brain. He had to admit that his current course of action was not only to look for survivors but to try and track Dean. Demons were known to revel in misery, especially the kind where a person found they'd murdered a whole lot of their friends and acquaintances when they woke up.
“Missouri thinks we attract any lesser demons nearby,” Sam said, swinging his legs off the day bed and settling his feet on the floor. He chanced standing and was relieved when it didn't send a wave of fresh dizziness through his brain.
“We?”
Sam pulled a face and cut his eyes to Sarah who was looking between them with concern and curiosity. “Anyone like me,” Sam clarified, fingers tapping his temple. He wasn't sure how much Deacon knew about everything that had happened to him and Dean but Deacon just nodded.
“Sam?”
“I’m sorry,” Sam sighed, looking at Sarah. “I’ve gotta promise to explain later again.” Sarah’s lips thinned down but she remained silent. “You should get some more sleep and we’ll head for Missouri’s in the morning.” Sam looked across at Deacon. “You want to come with us?”
“Can’t right now,” Deacon said. “I’ve got some people I want to find myself.”
Sam nodded, knowing there were a hundred things he wanted to ask Deacon but not feeling like he has any right. They’d share a meal, get some sleep and go their separate ways in the morning.
Sam wondered if that is the way the world now worked.
000
Sarah smiled a little when she spotted the Impala and Sam could see the question in her eyes, even though she bit her lip to stop from asking it.
“I don’t know where he is,” Sam admitted, answering her anyway.
By: kellifer_fic
Fandom: SPN
Rating: PG (language/adult themes)
Category: Gen - apocafuturefic
Words: 1,147
Disclaimer: Don't own, don't sue, no money!
Spoilers: None
Notes: Prequel to Not The World I Left Behind - can be read as a standalone.
Summary: Between blinks, Sam Winchester loses his brother.
Prologue | Verse One | Verse Two | Verse Three | Verse Four | Verse Five
Thirty days had never felt like a particularly long time to Sam but it seemed it was just enough for the world to turn truly upside down. Sam sat in the Impala, hands idly stroking the dash and knowing he was going to have to give her up pretty soon. The roads were becoming more and more impassable and it was just going to keep getting worse.
Thirty days.
He knew it was a little desperate to be backtracking like he was. Missouri had certainly not liked him ranging out, further each time. She worried and she couldn’t feel him anymore, like the world switching over had switched something on in Sam.
That was for damn sure.
He looked at the big iron gates of the gallery, overgrown with tendrils of ivy and passionfruit. The road out front was deserted like most but that didn’t necessarily mean anything. The fact that he’d found nothing but emptiness or death as he’d looked for others, using his own version of his dad’s journal as a kind of address book for the people who could possibly weather the storm, not freeze when the bad things came, didn’t deter him.
Please, Sam thought. Please let me find just one.
He was out of the car and halfway up the curved drive that led to the gate when he felt eyes on him. Sam turned in a slow circle, hand moving to the gun he had tucked into the back of his jeans when a figure appeared just inside the gate.
“Sam?”
“Sarah!” Sam exclaimed, because no matter his fervent wish, he hadn’t actually been expecting to find her here, safe and alive. He approached the gate at a jog and Sarah moved further into view, hair a dark tumble over her shoulders and hands coming up like she could hug him through the bars. Sam stopped though, just out of reach and grimaced. “You mind?” he asked, taking his hand off his gun and pulling the flask of holy water out instead that he kept in his front pocket.
Sarah blinked for a moment but then shrugged. “Sure. Better to be safe than possessed, right?” She stood patiently as Sam uncapped the flask and dashed a bit of water through the gate, fine droplets landing on her face and chest. Sarah didn’t so much as flinch and Sam felt something let go in his chest.
Sarah didn’t even wait for Sam to put the flask back in his pocket before she was unchaining the fence and yanking it open. Sam put a hand out when she got close and Sarah stopped, looking puzzled.
“I can’t… ever since… I can’t have anyone touching me,” Sam explained. Sarah had had her arms up and out but dropped them to her sides.
“Why not?”
“I’ll explain, I promise. Just, not right now. How did you survive here?” Sam pressed. He looked passed Sarah’s shoulder to the gallery behind her, a converted mansion that was looking like it had seen better days. Sam moved through the gate when Sarah stepped back and followed her finger when she pointed.
The whole property was ringed by a brick wall and just inside that was a line of white, following the base as it disappeared behind the gallery. “They can’t get in,” Sarah said as Sam realised that the white line was a thick ring of salt. “They stand at the gate and wail. They call to me and sing but I don’t… I remember what you said. I freshen the salt every day but I was running out and I was so scared that I… oh god Sam.” Sarah seemed to forget what Sam had warned her because she tripped forward and he automatically reached to catch her in his arms.
Images flashed through Sam’s mind as Sarah made contact, a life compacted into a matter of moments that pressed on him from the inside out and made him feel like his skin would rip and tear away from his frame. Sam let out a choked bark of agony and staggered backwards, Sarah releasing her hold with a gasp as Sam hit the ground on his knees and hands, taking the skin off his palms.
“I’m sorry! What did I-?” One of Sarah’s hands landed on Sam’s shoulder and he cried out again because fear, pain, love – the condensed Sarah pours into him with no filter and it’s bright, too much for him to absorb in a single breath.
The gate had been left open and as Sarah snatched her hand away and Sam rolled to his back something dark and fetid slid through with a gibber of triumph.
Sam opened his eyes to find he was in a sun dappled room. Dust motes twirled lazily about in the shafts of light and there was a blanket thrown over his legs. There was still a dull ache behind his temple so Sam sat up slowly, trying not to jostle the pain into wakefulness.
Sarah was curled on a couch opposite, book open in her lap and head dropped on her arm. Sam reached out a tentative hand, brushing a lock of hair that had fallen over her eyes and tucked it behind her ear. Touching her, there was an echo that ebbed at his mind but nothing like what he got when she touched him. Sam pushed it aside, trained enough by Missouri to do that small thing.
“Sam Winchester, as I live and breathe.”
Sam jerked and almost fell off the day bed he’d been placed on before he caught sight of a man standing in the doorway of the living room, hands jammed in the pockets of his jeans. He was looking a little battered and worse for wear but also familiar.
“Deacon?”
“One and the same,” Deacon nodded, stepping into the room properly as Sarah stirred. She sat up and wiped at her mouth with the back of her hand, grimacing.
“Hey, sorry. I didn’t mean to fall asleep.”
“Not to worry young lady,” Deacon said with a wry grin. “Not many places safe to sleep these days, you should snatch some while you can.”
“What are you doing here?” Sam asked, too shocked by Deacon’s presence to be relieved. He knew something happened right before he passed out and Deacon was probably responsible for him being alive but…
“Was followin’ a Tatter, thought it might lead me to something larger because it was making for here like its ass was on fire.” Deacon walked a hand to his chin and then rubbed, raising an eyebrow. “I wasn’t exactly expecting to find a Winchester. Last I heard you were all dead.”
Sam felt something clench inside because that wasn’t exactly true. He hadn’t seen Dean in a month but he knew… knew that his brother was still alive. Just not exactly in the driver’s seat in his own brain. He had to admit that his current course of action was not only to look for survivors but to try and track Dean. Demons were known to revel in misery, especially the kind where a person found they'd murdered a whole lot of their friends and acquaintances when they woke up.
“Missouri thinks we attract any lesser demons nearby,” Sam said, swinging his legs off the day bed and settling his feet on the floor. He chanced standing and was relieved when it didn't send a wave of fresh dizziness through his brain.
“We?”
Sam pulled a face and cut his eyes to Sarah who was looking between them with concern and curiosity. “Anyone like me,” Sam clarified, fingers tapping his temple. He wasn't sure how much Deacon knew about everything that had happened to him and Dean but Deacon just nodded.
“Sam?”
“I’m sorry,” Sam sighed, looking at Sarah. “I’ve gotta promise to explain later again.” Sarah’s lips thinned down but she remained silent. “You should get some more sleep and we’ll head for Missouri’s in the morning.” Sam looked across at Deacon. “You want to come with us?”
“Can’t right now,” Deacon said. “I’ve got some people I want to find myself.”
Sam nodded, knowing there were a hundred things he wanted to ask Deacon but not feeling like he has any right. They’d share a meal, get some sleep and go their separate ways in the morning.
Sam wondered if that is the way the world now worked.
Sarah smiled a little when she spotted the Impala and Sam could see the question in her eyes, even though she bit her lip to stop from asking it.
“I don’t know where he is,” Sam admitted, answering her anyway.
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*shivering because I remember from the other story some of the things Dean did to Sam before he came back to himself. Yoiks!*
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And Deacon, yay!
:)
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Good start, and I love the addition of Deacon.
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"Oh, a kellifer story. Awesome! A prequel to 'Not the World I Left Behind.' Why does that sound familiar? Have I... OHMYGODIT'STHATSTORY! *MENTAL FLAIL*"
Swear to God, I actually had a mental flail. I loved the first story so much and so I can't wait to see how everything came about. Awesome awesome awesome.
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