2 Supernatural (and Charmed) drabbles
Both were written for dragonsinger and neither are really drabble-size. A little longer.
Dean had been pretending to sleep for over an hour now. It was supposed to be his way of letting Sam know that Dean trusted him with his car and to give Sam some personal space. Space was a tough thing to come by cramped into his car day after day.
He didn't bother lying to himself though. He was glad for the company, relieved to have his brother back by his side where he could protect him best. As it was, he kept thinking about what would've happened if he hadn't gone back to Sam's apartment that night...if he had kept driving and ignored the feeling in his gut.
Of course, he was trained better than that. He never ignored his gut instinct, no matter what roads it sent him down.
"I know you're awake, jerk," Sam said. He sounded almost normal, but Dean knew better.
Dean opened his eyes and smirked. "Sorry, but trusting anyone with my baby is going to take time."
"Your baby?"
"It's like you're barely a guy sometimes, Sammy."
"Says the man who refers to his car as baby and listens to Warrant."
Dean glared at Sam, pretending to be offended, and replied, "I really am going to sleep now." Of course, they both knew he wasn't.
Fin
Dean lifted his brother up off the ground and tossed the last of the holy water at the demon trailing them. Sam was barely conscious and Dean didn't like the looks of the cuts on his arms.
Whatever the hell this thing was, it was going to pay.
Though Dean didn't know how quite yet.
It wasn't until they had reached the car and he had gotten Sam into the passenger's seat that he realized the demon wasn't behind them. It didn't make sense. The holy water wasn't that powerful.
Dean locked Sam in the car and headed back in the direction he had come from. He told himself that his brother would be fine for a few minutes while he checked things out. It was his job after all. It didn't make it sit well though. His mind and body battling for control. His head told him that this was suicide, that one didn't ignore a gift from God when it came, but his gut knew that there was something more going on.
And there, in the small clearing in the woods, Dean watched as two young men did battle with the thing. Dean stayed hidden, surprised to find that there were others like him.
The brown-haired man ducked a swing from the demon and called out, "How much longer is it going to take you to throw the potion?"
"Calm down, Chris. I'm working on it."
"I think you're enjoying this," Chris muttered as he fought free of the demon's grip.
"Orb out now."
"Orb?" Dean wondered aloud.
The young man disappeared in a swirl of blue lights and rematerialized behind the other man. "Now Wyatt!"
Wyatt threw a vial at the foot of the demon, mumbling an indecipherable incantation under his breath, and the demon burst into flames.
Wyatt slapped Chris on the back and said, "Not bad for a day's work."
"Easy for you to say. I did all the work."
"I threw the potion."
"So?"
"That takes skill. It had to be an accurate hit for the potion to work."
"You're insane..."
Dean gulped when he noticed that the quipping between the two men stopped. Both sets of eyes were directed on Dean and he didn't know whether to scream like a little girl or high-five the guys.
"Uh...thanks for that?" Dean replied, pointing to the pile of ashes that had been chasing him minutes before.
"You're welcome. Just do us a favor. Pretend you never saw me and my brother," Wyatt stated.
Dean nodded and said, "Speaking of brothers, I better go check on mine. That thing cut him up pretty badly."
Wyatt tossed him a vial similar to the one he had thrown at the demon and said, "Mix this potion with some holy water. That should clean those cuts right up."
Dean didn't know what to say. There weren't really any words in the English language that would cover it. In all his years of dealing with the supernatural, he knew that his family couldn't be alone. There had to be others out there. He just never imagined it would look so much like him and Sam.
He turned back around to say something else, but both the men were gone.
Fin
Dean had been pretending to sleep for over an hour now. It was supposed to be his way of letting Sam know that Dean trusted him with his car and to give Sam some personal space. Space was a tough thing to come by cramped into his car day after day.
He didn't bother lying to himself though. He was glad for the company, relieved to have his brother back by his side where he could protect him best. As it was, he kept thinking about what would've happened if he hadn't gone back to Sam's apartment that night...if he had kept driving and ignored the feeling in his gut.
Of course, he was trained better than that. He never ignored his gut instinct, no matter what roads it sent him down.
"I know you're awake, jerk," Sam said. He sounded almost normal, but Dean knew better.
Dean opened his eyes and smirked. "Sorry, but trusting anyone with my baby is going to take time."
"Your baby?"
"It's like you're barely a guy sometimes, Sammy."
"Says the man who refers to his car as baby and listens to Warrant."
Dean glared at Sam, pretending to be offended, and replied, "I really am going to sleep now." Of course, they both knew he wasn't.
Fin
Dean lifted his brother up off the ground and tossed the last of the holy water at the demon trailing them. Sam was barely conscious and Dean didn't like the looks of the cuts on his arms.
Whatever the hell this thing was, it was going to pay.
Though Dean didn't know how quite yet.
It wasn't until they had reached the car and he had gotten Sam into the passenger's seat that he realized the demon wasn't behind them. It didn't make sense. The holy water wasn't that powerful.
Dean locked Sam in the car and headed back in the direction he had come from. He told himself that his brother would be fine for a few minutes while he checked things out. It was his job after all. It didn't make it sit well though. His mind and body battling for control. His head told him that this was suicide, that one didn't ignore a gift from God when it came, but his gut knew that there was something more going on.
And there, in the small clearing in the woods, Dean watched as two young men did battle with the thing. Dean stayed hidden, surprised to find that there were others like him.
The brown-haired man ducked a swing from the demon and called out, "How much longer is it going to take you to throw the potion?"
"Calm down, Chris. I'm working on it."
"I think you're enjoying this," Chris muttered as he fought free of the demon's grip.
"Orb out now."
"Orb?" Dean wondered aloud.
The young man disappeared in a swirl of blue lights and rematerialized behind the other man. "Now Wyatt!"
Wyatt threw a vial at the foot of the demon, mumbling an indecipherable incantation under his breath, and the demon burst into flames.
Wyatt slapped Chris on the back and said, "Not bad for a day's work."
"Easy for you to say. I did all the work."
"I threw the potion."
"So?"
"That takes skill. It had to be an accurate hit for the potion to work."
"You're insane..."
Dean gulped when he noticed that the quipping between the two men stopped. Both sets of eyes were directed on Dean and he didn't know whether to scream like a little girl or high-five the guys.
"Uh...thanks for that?" Dean replied, pointing to the pile of ashes that had been chasing him minutes before.
"You're welcome. Just do us a favor. Pretend you never saw me and my brother," Wyatt stated.
Dean nodded and said, "Speaking of brothers, I better go check on mine. That thing cut him up pretty badly."
Wyatt tossed him a vial similar to the one he had thrown at the demon and said, "Mix this potion with some holy water. That should clean those cuts right up."
Dean didn't know what to say. There weren't really any words in the English language that would cover it. In all his years of dealing with the supernatural, he knew that his family couldn't be alone. There had to be others out there. He just never imagined it would look so much like him and Sam.
He turned back around to say something else, but both the men were gone.
Fin