Fic: In the Future 1/10 (SPN)
Title: In the future...
Author: Me
Spoilers: References “Bloodlust”
Disclaimer: Fan fic, nothing owned
Word count: 378
Notes: This is gen, no real pairing. Future fic.
It’s been so long since his name was said aloud that when she whispers it behind him, he nearly comes off the bar stool in shock.
He turns his head and there she is, a (non) living, (non) breathing woman.
And she knows his name.
“Hello Sam,” Lenore says, a smile playing at the corners of her lips.
She looks around the rest of the place, eyes resting on the men’s room door, the entrance, the empty stools on either one side of him. He shakes his head in response as understanding dawns in her eyes. She doesn’t look relieved, she looks a little sad.
***
He could phrase it like, “Are you going to kill me?” but as he follows her outside the rowdy Nevada saloon, it slips out as “Can you kill me?” She doesn’t look surprised and she doesn’t answer as she slides into the passenger seat of the Impala, letting him close the door like they’ve just hooked up. Like it’s a date.
***
They drive to his motel. She hums along with the radio, playing with the ends of her hair. He wants to ask her a question - any question really - but he lost the fine art of conversation at a very long time ago.
***
In the end, it’s she who takes the reins of the moment; she sits on the edge of his unmade bed and watches him pace. She asks him where he’s been and what he’s done and where everyone else is and he’s compelled to answer, a monologue of moments woven together into a blanket of grief that covers them both. He closes the blinds tightly as the sun comes up and Lenore makes a grateful sound as she undresses and crawls under the covers.
***
He hasn’t slept in the same bed with another person for almost eleven years.
He thinks it’s ironic that the first time it happens it’s with a dead woman.
***
On the second day, Lenore casually mentions that the rest of her nest, her family, are gone. Sam nods. She’s alone - he gets that. She’s drifting - he gets that too. She brushes her fingers against the gray strands of his ponytail and smiles.
He realizes she’s not going to kill him but she might just stick around.
Go to Part 2
Author: Me
Spoilers: References “Bloodlust”
Disclaimer: Fan fic, nothing owned
Word count: 378
Notes: This is gen, no real pairing. Future fic.
It’s been so long since his name was said aloud that when she whispers it behind him, he nearly comes off the bar stool in shock.
He turns his head and there she is, a (non) living, (non) breathing woman.
And she knows his name.
“Hello Sam,” Lenore says, a smile playing at the corners of her lips.
She looks around the rest of the place, eyes resting on the men’s room door, the entrance, the empty stools on either one side of him. He shakes his head in response as understanding dawns in her eyes. She doesn’t look relieved, she looks a little sad.
***
He could phrase it like, “Are you going to kill me?” but as he follows her outside the rowdy Nevada saloon, it slips out as “Can you kill me?” She doesn’t look surprised and she doesn’t answer as she slides into the passenger seat of the Impala, letting him close the door like they’ve just hooked up. Like it’s a date.
***
They drive to his motel. She hums along with the radio, playing with the ends of her hair. He wants to ask her a question - any question really - but he lost the fine art of conversation at a very long time ago.
***
In the end, it’s she who takes the reins of the moment; she sits on the edge of his unmade bed and watches him pace. She asks him where he’s been and what he’s done and where everyone else is and he’s compelled to answer, a monologue of moments woven together into a blanket of grief that covers them both. He closes the blinds tightly as the sun comes up and Lenore makes a grateful sound as she undresses and crawls under the covers.
***
He hasn’t slept in the same bed with another person for almost eleven years.
He thinks it’s ironic that the first time it happens it’s with a dead woman.
***
On the second day, Lenore casually mentions that the rest of her nest, her family, are gone. Sam nods. She’s alone - he gets that. She’s drifting - he gets that too. She brushes her fingers against the gray strands of his ponytail and smiles.
He realizes she’s not going to kill him but she might just stick around.
Go to Part 2