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Title: Not The Road I See Ahead - Prologue
By: kellifer_fic
Fandom: SPN
Rating: PG (language/adult themes)
Category: Gen - apocafuturefic
Words: 331
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
Prologue – When The Man Comes Around
Sam has one eye squinted shut, aiming a rubber ball at the back of Dean’s head when he stumbles. Sam turns on his heel, feeling like he was shoved. There is nothing there except a vacant-looking kid leaning up against the wall of the motel office behind him. Sam turns around just in time to see Dean stiffen, look up and something like anger flash across his face when he catches sight of Sam.
Sam is moving towards the trunk of the Impala before he has time to think about it.
Holywaterholywaterholywater, he’s chanting to himself as he gets the trunk open and starts pawing through the contents. He wishes fervently that Dean had packed it the night before instead of him because Dean had some weird system that means everything you were looking for would just find its way into your hands which Sam had never learned the knack of. Sam’s shoulders are hunched down because he’s expecting a blow from behind but it doesn’t come. Sam risks a look around the open trunk and sees that Dean is gone.
Sam walks around the side of the car and hunkers down next to the front tyre. In the dirt, unstoppered and leaking holy water into the dust is Dean’s silver flask.
000
“C’mon inside,” Missouri invites when Sam turns up on her doorstep. Sam hadn’t even been really sure where he was driving until he’d seen the welcome sign telling him that he was entering Lawrence, Kansas. Missouri reaches out to him, but tucks her hands back to her chest at the last moment, something unreadable flashing across her face. She’s talking low and gentle and not moving fast like she’s treating with a wounded animal.
Sam isn’t surprised to find sandwiches already set out on the table and coffee warming. He pours himself a cup and takes a long swallow before dropping into one of Missouri’s kitchen chairs.
“Oh Lord,” Missouri says. “It’s started.”
By: kellifer_fic
Fandom: SPN
Rating: PG (language/adult themes)
Category: Gen - apocafuturefic
Words: 331
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
Sam has one eye squinted shut, aiming a rubber ball at the back of Dean’s head when he stumbles. Sam turns on his heel, feeling like he was shoved. There is nothing there except a vacant-looking kid leaning up against the wall of the motel office behind him. Sam turns around just in time to see Dean stiffen, look up and something like anger flash across his face when he catches sight of Sam.
Sam is moving towards the trunk of the Impala before he has time to think about it.
Holywaterholywaterholywater, he’s chanting to himself as he gets the trunk open and starts pawing through the contents. He wishes fervently that Dean had packed it the night before instead of him because Dean had some weird system that means everything you were looking for would just find its way into your hands which Sam had never learned the knack of. Sam’s shoulders are hunched down because he’s expecting a blow from behind but it doesn’t come. Sam risks a look around the open trunk and sees that Dean is gone.
Sam walks around the side of the car and hunkers down next to the front tyre. In the dirt, unstoppered and leaking holy water into the dust is Dean’s silver flask.
“C’mon inside,” Missouri invites when Sam turns up on her doorstep. Sam hadn’t even been really sure where he was driving until he’d seen the welcome sign telling him that he was entering Lawrence, Kansas. Missouri reaches out to him, but tucks her hands back to her chest at the last moment, something unreadable flashing across her face. She’s talking low and gentle and not moving fast like she’s treating with a wounded animal.
Sam isn’t surprised to find sandwiches already set out on the table and coffee warming. He pours himself a cup and takes a long swallow before dropping into one of Missouri’s kitchen chairs.
“Oh Lord,” Missouri says. “It’s started.”