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Title: Walking On These Shattered Bones
Rating/Warning: Mature themes
Wordcount: 432
Spoilers: AU of BUABS
Fandom: SPN
By:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
kellifer_fic
Category: (Gen - dark)
What really gets Dean about this whole thing is that the thing curled up inside Sammy is using his prank grin. The sweep-upwards of face that indicates Sam is feeling okay with the world and has just glued Dean’s boots to the floor so when he steps into them and moves he’ll fall on his face.
Dean really didn’t believe that the demon would walk Sam off the edge of that building right up until it actually did it.
“Exorcise me now Dean-o,” the demon taunts through bloody lips and a torn-up voice that tells Dean more than what he wants to know about jagged ribs poking through lungs.
“You just killed him,” Dean says, holding a gun to his baby-brother’s temple.
“Nah, I’m leaving that to you,” the demon says and Dean lets it up, lets it walk away wearing his brother like a coat.
000
Bobby has Sam tied to a chair and is halfway through the exorcism ritual when Dean bursts in, shouting “No!”
He slaps the notebook Bobby was using out of his hands and the demon chuckles, a chilling sound that shouldn’t be coming out of his Sammy.
“So close,” the demon sighs in mock-disappointment and Dean has to hold a gun on Bobby to let the demon walk free a second time.
000
It happens more often than you’d think, hunters being possessed by the very thing they hunt. There’s even a cute little nickname for it.
Dark Dog.
Dean hears the words on the truckie’s radio that he’s hitched a ride from, Sam having taken the Impala from Bobby’s lot.
“Weird-ass shit they say sometimes,” the truckie comments but Dean doesn’t miss the sidelong glance he earns when he just slouches down further in his seat. He also doesn’t miss when the older man mutters “Christo” like he’s just clearing his throat.
Dean yawns and the man looks relieved.
000
He almost catches up to Sam in Kansas, misses him by about two hours. The police are at the quaint white picket-fenced house when he pulls up in his rented Subaru and the ambulance pulls up just behind him.
There’s two older men and a hard-looking woman standing off to the side and he feels their glares as soon as he gets out of the car.
They don’t want him here because in a way, he’s caused this.
Hunters rarely retire and it’s just the demon’s sense of humor that made it go after one who had.
000
He wakes up six days later with it standing in his motel room.
He tries to feel surprised.
Rating/Warning: Mature themes
Wordcount: 432
Spoilers: AU of BUABS
Fandom: SPN
By:
kellifer_ficCategory: (Gen - dark)
What really gets Dean about this whole thing is that the thing curled up inside Sammy is using his prank grin. The sweep-upwards of face that indicates Sam is feeling okay with the world and has just glued Dean’s boots to the floor so when he steps into them and moves he’ll fall on his face.
Dean really didn’t believe that the demon would walk Sam off the edge of that building right up until it actually did it.
“Exorcise me now Dean-o,” the demon taunts through bloody lips and a torn-up voice that tells Dean more than what he wants to know about jagged ribs poking through lungs.
“You just killed him,” Dean says, holding a gun to his baby-brother’s temple.
“Nah, I’m leaving that to you,” the demon says and Dean lets it up, lets it walk away wearing his brother like a coat.
Bobby has Sam tied to a chair and is halfway through the exorcism ritual when Dean bursts in, shouting “No!”
He slaps the notebook Bobby was using out of his hands and the demon chuckles, a chilling sound that shouldn’t be coming out of his Sammy.
“So close,” the demon sighs in mock-disappointment and Dean has to hold a gun on Bobby to let the demon walk free a second time.
It happens more often than you’d think, hunters being possessed by the very thing they hunt. There’s even a cute little nickname for it.
Dark Dog.
Dean hears the words on the truckie’s radio that he’s hitched a ride from, Sam having taken the Impala from Bobby’s lot.
“Weird-ass shit they say sometimes,” the truckie comments but Dean doesn’t miss the sidelong glance he earns when he just slouches down further in his seat. He also doesn’t miss when the older man mutters “Christo” like he’s just clearing his throat.
Dean yawns and the man looks relieved.
He almost catches up to Sam in Kansas, misses him by about two hours. The police are at the quaint white picket-fenced house when he pulls up in his rented Subaru and the ambulance pulls up just behind him.
There’s two older men and a hard-looking woman standing off to the side and he feels their glares as soon as he gets out of the car.
They don’t want him here because in a way, he’s caused this.
Hunters rarely retire and it’s just the demon’s sense of humor that made it go after one who had.
He wakes up six days later with it standing in his motel room.
He tries to feel surprised.
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