Lead-in, alpaca fic.
May. 13th, 2010 07:57 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
rahmi< i > Melodramatic song lyric goes here. Seriously, you guys think I'm joking. You should listen to the shit I listen to while I write. It's pathetic.< / i >
I... think I explained that I started writing this before Gabriel died, right? If I didn't, I started writing this before Gabriel died. So. You know. He's in here.
Dean’s pretty sure most stories like this start with something lame like, “at the end of it all,” or something else stupidly cliché like that. That’s really not gonna work for him, he thinks, because the whole damn point of it is that this isn’t the end of it all, this is the world going on in spite of angels, demons, and determined Winchester stupidity.
Sam shifts next to him; Dean wants to bump their shoulders together but stops himself at the last second. They’re getting better. He’s just not sure he’s ever going to be ready to rib Sam again, not without seeing that demon bitch’s face behind his eyelids.
“We’re still here,” says Sam.
“Looks like it.” Dean scrubs a hand down his leg. He almost wants to keep back the next words, almost wants to bite his tongue, but, hell, this whole fucking thing started because nobody ever wanted to man up to their feelings.
And right now? Dean’s feeling pretty damn petty. “Well, hey, we started it,” he says, “Only fair we were the ones who ended it, right?”
He’s not expecting Sam to huff a small laugh, or to lean forward to bump their shoulders together. “Just another day on the road,” Sam says softly.
Dean doesn’t move away, but he doesn’t lean back either. He’s tired, but it’s been obvious for the last year and a half that Sam doesn’t really have his back, no matter what the kid claims. He’s not going to get used to leaning again. “Bitch of a day,” he says.
“Getting better.” Sam shifts again, his free arm coming up to rub absently at his chest. “How long do you think Cas is going to sit over there brooding?”
Dean shrugs. “Dude’s Dad just delivered a family wide smack down,” he says, “Cut him a little slack.”
Sam laughs again, short and soft, just this side of perfect. It makes Dean want to run screaming down the road. His heart’s already a fragile piece of garbage, held together with duct tape and memories of a gap-toothed boy. He doesn’t need to let Sam back in.
They can be brothers without being… that. Codependence wasn’t a hot look on anyone.
Sam’s looking at him, his eyes soft and Dean just can’t. “Dean—“
Dean slashes a hand through the air and uses the other to rub down his face. “No, Sam,” he says. His eyes ache and his back aches and he’s done. He said no to Michael and no to Castiel and he even told God to go fuck himself when push came to shove. It’s probably about time he tells Sam no too.
Sam breathes out noisily. Dean presses his fingers to his eyes and keeps himself from looking. “No, what?”
“No, we’re not gonna ride off into the sunset,” Dean snaps. He opens his eyes, squints against the late afternoon sunlight and the incomprehension in Sam’s eyes. “It’s done. We’re done. No more Lilith, no more Lucifer, no more Yellow Eyed Demon, no more apocalypse.”
“So, what, you think that means there’s no more reason for us—“
“That’s pretty much it, dude,” Dean interrupts again. He feels like he’s in the middle of the worst break-up ever; it’s not me, it’s you, and we both just want different things. If Gabriel wasn’t standing over by Castiel, cracking stupid, inappropriate jokes, Dean would be looking around for the Trickster. “There’s no reason to be an ‘us.’ Go back to school, Sam. Go find a girl, settle down. Hell, go hunt every evil son of a bitch you can find.”
“But do it without you, is that what you’re saying?” Sam’s hands come out and up, spreading himself wide.
Dean slides his gaze away. Gabriel’s got his hands in Castiel’s hair now, ruffling it while Castiel looks baffled and wounded, and Dean swallows hard. “I got a girl waiting,” Dean says. It’s not an excuse, but it feels like one with the way Sam’s looking at him.
“Lisa,” says Sam. Dean avoids his eyes. They both know it’s not about Lisa. It’s never been about Lisa, but Dean’s tired. He’s ready for his shot at normal and she’s his last, his best one. She knows and she has Ben. That’s enough.
That’s worth leaving Sam for, even if there’s a small, hysterical part of him that’s screaming, “We just started to be brothers again!” at the top of its lungs. Dean has a lot of practice ignoring little voices in the back of his mind at this point.
“I told her I was comin’ back,” Dean lies easily.
Sam’s dark eyes call him a liar, but his mouth just quirks along one side. “Don’t want to keep her waiting,” he says.
Dean can’t say anything to that. There’s nothing to say. He doesn’t want Sam anywhere near him right now. Yeah, they’ve stopped Lucifer. Yeah, Sam’s had his back for the last year and a half, he’s been truthful and trustworthy, he’s been here.
Dean still can’t stay. It’s a new feeling. He kind of wonders if Sam’s always felt like this, like whatever Dean or Dad did he just had to run. “You…” Dean starts, stops.
He’s still a big brother even though he wants out. He wants to know that Sam’s gonna be fine.
“I’ll get Cas to drop me off closer to civilization,” Sam says gently. He curls his fingers against the zipper of his jacket and offers Dean a small, watery smile. “Don’t worry about it.”
Dean makes a single, abortive move towards his brother. He sounds like he’s getting eviscerated. He forces himself to stand still when Sam just smiles a little sadder. “I’ll call you when I get there,” Dean says compulsively.
“No chick flick moments,” Sam says even though they both know he means, “Don’t lie to me, Dean.”
At the end of it all, Dean walks away from his brother, climbs into his car, and drives off without looking back.
Gabriel shows up in the passenger seat a hundred miles into Dean’s drive.
“Don’t you start with me,” Dean says. He flicks the volume up.
His tape screeches to a halt; Dean has to jerk the Impala to the side of the highway, swearing, when he realizes the tape deck is spitting out ribbons. “Oh, come on!” he snaps, stabbing at the eject button even though it’s not his baby’s fault. “That’s my favorite tape!”
“You stupid son a bitch,” Gabriel says pleasantly.
“I do not need freakin’ self-help advice from you,” Dean snarls.
“Take it from someone who ditched his family for longer than this continent’s been around,” the angel says. He stretches and grins at Dean, waggling his eyebrows. “You leaving right now? Makes you a stupid son of a bitch.”
“Can’t help but notice you’ve pried yourself away from Cas.”
Gabriel shrugs and snaps his fingers, starts stuffing his face with the resulting candy bar. “Your brother’s got him,” he says. “You know the one. Big ol’ puppy dog eyes, stupidly devoted to your dead beat ass?”
“Hey,” Dean snaps. He points a finger at the angel. “I’m the one who went to hell for his gigantic ass.”
“Pfft,” says Gabriel. “That’s the easy part. I’d have gone to hell for my brothers and they’re all dicks. Except maybe Cas. He’s kind of cute, in a dim puppy kind of way. The guy actually pulled my finger when I told him to, can you believe it?”
Dean can believe it.
“The point is: it’s not the big things that make a family.” Gabriel pokes at him with his candy bar. “Putting up with your siblings when they’ve just puked on your best shoes the night of your big date, that’s family.”
“Thank you for that, Dan Brady,” Dean says.
“I was always more partial to the Huxtables myself,” Gabriel muses. “Until that little brat came on. He was just obnoxious, you know what I’m saying?”
“Kind of like you, then.”
“Ooooh, touchy, huh?” The angel makes a big show of shoving the rest of his candy into his mouth. “My point still stands, Dean-o. Did you know my brother once said you were erotically codependent on each other?”
“Yeah, that’s not creepy at all.” Dean doesn’t ask which brother. Pretty much all the angels are dicks anyway, but that combination of petty and does-not-get-it has to be Zachariah. Awesome.
“Don’t get your panties in a wad, sweetcheeks,” Gabriel says around a mouthful of chocolate. “Incest isn’t as bad as they make it sound nowadays. You should have seen Adam’s kids pant after each other. Now there was a pair of brothers who knew what they wanted.”
Dean stares for a few seconds. He can’t not. “Cain and Abel,” he says flatly, “I’m pretty sure one of them killed the other.”
Gabriel waves a hand. “I didn’t say they didn’t have their own set of issues.”
Dean rubs at his eyes. He does not need this. What he needs is to put another hundred miles between him and Sam and the end of the world. “Did you seriously just show up to give me advice on how to bone my brother?”
“No,” Gabriel says immediately. “I showed up to tell you you’re being a doucherag. The advice on screwing your brother was just a bonus. You know. If you wanted to go down that route instead of being an assmunch.”
“You’re a Sam slash Dean fan, aren’t you?”
“I’ve written fifty-five slash fanfics since I’ve met you boys,” Gabriel says proudly. “I’m a bonafide BNF.”
Dean blinks. “And I thought Sammy was a freak.”
“Demon blood will do that to you.”
“Dude,” Dean says reproachfully. He’s allowed to bring up Sam’s blood, but that’s only because most of it is still the same as his, no matter what else’s been added to it. Even if Dad had always made sure that Sam never donated blood, no matter how much Dean needed it.
“Whatever, you know it’s true.”
He’s pretty sure demon blood is what makes Sam so angry, but the freakishness? No, that’s all Dean’s baby brother.
The Impala starts to cheerfully play Zepplin again, regardless of the fact that the tape is still hanging in ribbons from her deck. Dean sucks on his teeth. It’s playing the wrong songs; Gabriel just stretches his arms out along the back of the seat, making a show of getting comfortable as Dean pulls back out onto the highway.
“What do you want from me?” Dean finally demands.
“I kind of want to get to know my baby brother,” Gabriel says. “And, man, your baby brother’s putting a crimp in my style. Castiel’s worried about him. Have you seen Castiel worry before? It’s like a duckling trying to look after a slightly demented puppy. It’s cute and all, but you know it’s just gonna end in tears. Help me out here.”
“Look,” Dean says. “Sam got four years to screw his head on. Four freakin’ normal years without demons, angels, or monsters messing with his skull.” That’s not strictly true, not after what they’d learned from Pestilence’s handler, but it’s close enough for government work.
His point stands.
At the risk of sounding like a Disney princess, he loves his brother. Hell, loves a damn weak word for what he feels for Sam. He sold his soul and, yeah, he probably wouldn’t do it again, but that’s only because he knows Sam would have gone to heaven, would have been happy there if Dean hadn’t pulled his ass back down to earth.
But they’ve spent three years going through loss after loss after motherfucking loss. They need time. Dean needs time, to sort himself out. He wants to be able to look Sam in the eye without thinking, “You left me for a demonic bitch and look where it got us, you bitch.”
Gabriel’s looking at him when Dean pulls himself out of his head. Dean twitches. He can see the white light in the back of Gabriel’s eyes, the one that always creeps him the fuck out, even when Cas is doing it, so he looks back at the road.
“You really think you’re going to be happy sticking your head in the sand?” Gabriel asks. “You? Mister big damn hero? Do you even have any idea what normal people do when they’re not being killed by monsters? Here’s a hint: it’s boring.”
Dean thinks about mowing the lawn, BLT sandwiches, and actual pictures of his family on the walls. “I think I can manage,” he says.
The angel snorts. “And I thought talking to Sam was like hitting yourself in the face with a brick.” Gabriel crosses his arms and arches his eyebrows at Dean. “You know what? Fine. Whatever. Go run off to your little chippy. Me and Cas? We’ll look after your brother. I’m kind of fond of him. It’s not every day someone has the sheer cohunes to stalk me for six months.”
“You sleep with my brother and I’ll kill you,” Dean says.
Gabriel grins. “Who says you get a say in anything?” he asks. “You’re the one who left.”
He’s gone before Dean can think of anything else to say.
Those of you who have seen the finale will see why I had to post this now. *shakes fist at Dean*
I... think I explained that I started writing this before Gabriel died, right? If I didn't, I started writing this before Gabriel died. So. You know. He's in here.
Dean’s pretty sure most stories like this start with something lame like, “at the end of it all,” or something else stupidly cliché like that. That’s really not gonna work for him, he thinks, because the whole damn point of it is that this isn’t the end of it all, this is the world going on in spite of angels, demons, and determined Winchester stupidity.
Sam shifts next to him; Dean wants to bump their shoulders together but stops himself at the last second. They’re getting better. He’s just not sure he’s ever going to be ready to rib Sam again, not without seeing that demon bitch’s face behind his eyelids.
“We’re still here,” says Sam.
“Looks like it.” Dean scrubs a hand down his leg. He almost wants to keep back the next words, almost wants to bite his tongue, but, hell, this whole fucking thing started because nobody ever wanted to man up to their feelings.
And right now? Dean’s feeling pretty damn petty. “Well, hey, we started it,” he says, “Only fair we were the ones who ended it, right?”
He’s not expecting Sam to huff a small laugh, or to lean forward to bump their shoulders together. “Just another day on the road,” Sam says softly.
Dean doesn’t move away, but he doesn’t lean back either. He’s tired, but it’s been obvious for the last year and a half that Sam doesn’t really have his back, no matter what the kid claims. He’s not going to get used to leaning again. “Bitch of a day,” he says.
“Getting better.” Sam shifts again, his free arm coming up to rub absently at his chest. “How long do you think Cas is going to sit over there brooding?”
Dean shrugs. “Dude’s Dad just delivered a family wide smack down,” he says, “Cut him a little slack.”
Sam laughs again, short and soft, just this side of perfect. It makes Dean want to run screaming down the road. His heart’s already a fragile piece of garbage, held together with duct tape and memories of a gap-toothed boy. He doesn’t need to let Sam back in.
They can be brothers without being… that. Codependence wasn’t a hot look on anyone.
Sam’s looking at him, his eyes soft and Dean just can’t. “Dean—“
Dean slashes a hand through the air and uses the other to rub down his face. “No, Sam,” he says. His eyes ache and his back aches and he’s done. He said no to Michael and no to Castiel and he even told God to go fuck himself when push came to shove. It’s probably about time he tells Sam no too.
Sam breathes out noisily. Dean presses his fingers to his eyes and keeps himself from looking. “No, what?”
“No, we’re not gonna ride off into the sunset,” Dean snaps. He opens his eyes, squints against the late afternoon sunlight and the incomprehension in Sam’s eyes. “It’s done. We’re done. No more Lilith, no more Lucifer, no more Yellow Eyed Demon, no more apocalypse.”
“So, what, you think that means there’s no more reason for us—“
“That’s pretty much it, dude,” Dean interrupts again. He feels like he’s in the middle of the worst break-up ever; it’s not me, it’s you, and we both just want different things. If Gabriel wasn’t standing over by Castiel, cracking stupid, inappropriate jokes, Dean would be looking around for the Trickster. “There’s no reason to be an ‘us.’ Go back to school, Sam. Go find a girl, settle down. Hell, go hunt every evil son of a bitch you can find.”
“But do it without you, is that what you’re saying?” Sam’s hands come out and up, spreading himself wide.
Dean slides his gaze away. Gabriel’s got his hands in Castiel’s hair now, ruffling it while Castiel looks baffled and wounded, and Dean swallows hard. “I got a girl waiting,” Dean says. It’s not an excuse, but it feels like one with the way Sam’s looking at him.
“Lisa,” says Sam. Dean avoids his eyes. They both know it’s not about Lisa. It’s never been about Lisa, but Dean’s tired. He’s ready for his shot at normal and she’s his last, his best one. She knows and she has Ben. That’s enough.
That’s worth leaving Sam for, even if there’s a small, hysterical part of him that’s screaming, “We just started to be brothers again!” at the top of its lungs. Dean has a lot of practice ignoring little voices in the back of his mind at this point.
“I told her I was comin’ back,” Dean lies easily.
Sam’s dark eyes call him a liar, but his mouth just quirks along one side. “Don’t want to keep her waiting,” he says.
Dean can’t say anything to that. There’s nothing to say. He doesn’t want Sam anywhere near him right now. Yeah, they’ve stopped Lucifer. Yeah, Sam’s had his back for the last year and a half, he’s been truthful and trustworthy, he’s been here.
Dean still can’t stay. It’s a new feeling. He kind of wonders if Sam’s always felt like this, like whatever Dean or Dad did he just had to run. “You…” Dean starts, stops.
He’s still a big brother even though he wants out. He wants to know that Sam’s gonna be fine.
“I’ll get Cas to drop me off closer to civilization,” Sam says gently. He curls his fingers against the zipper of his jacket and offers Dean a small, watery smile. “Don’t worry about it.”
Dean makes a single, abortive move towards his brother. He sounds like he’s getting eviscerated. He forces himself to stand still when Sam just smiles a little sadder. “I’ll call you when I get there,” Dean says compulsively.
“No chick flick moments,” Sam says even though they both know he means, “Don’t lie to me, Dean.”
At the end of it all, Dean walks away from his brother, climbs into his car, and drives off without looking back.
Gabriel shows up in the passenger seat a hundred miles into Dean’s drive.
“Don’t you start with me,” Dean says. He flicks the volume up.
His tape screeches to a halt; Dean has to jerk the Impala to the side of the highway, swearing, when he realizes the tape deck is spitting out ribbons. “Oh, come on!” he snaps, stabbing at the eject button even though it’s not his baby’s fault. “That’s my favorite tape!”
“You stupid son a bitch,” Gabriel says pleasantly.
“I do not need freakin’ self-help advice from you,” Dean snarls.
“Take it from someone who ditched his family for longer than this continent’s been around,” the angel says. He stretches and grins at Dean, waggling his eyebrows. “You leaving right now? Makes you a stupid son of a bitch.”
“Can’t help but notice you’ve pried yourself away from Cas.”
Gabriel shrugs and snaps his fingers, starts stuffing his face with the resulting candy bar. “Your brother’s got him,” he says. “You know the one. Big ol’ puppy dog eyes, stupidly devoted to your dead beat ass?”
“Hey,” Dean snaps. He points a finger at the angel. “I’m the one who went to hell for his gigantic ass.”
“Pfft,” says Gabriel. “That’s the easy part. I’d have gone to hell for my brothers and they’re all dicks. Except maybe Cas. He’s kind of cute, in a dim puppy kind of way. The guy actually pulled my finger when I told him to, can you believe it?”
Dean can believe it.
“The point is: it’s not the big things that make a family.” Gabriel pokes at him with his candy bar. “Putting up with your siblings when they’ve just puked on your best shoes the night of your big date, that’s family.”
“Thank you for that, Dan Brady,” Dean says.
“I was always more partial to the Huxtables myself,” Gabriel muses. “Until that little brat came on. He was just obnoxious, you know what I’m saying?”
“Kind of like you, then.”
“Ooooh, touchy, huh?” The angel makes a big show of shoving the rest of his candy into his mouth. “My point still stands, Dean-o. Did you know my brother once said you were erotically codependent on each other?”
“Yeah, that’s not creepy at all.” Dean doesn’t ask which brother. Pretty much all the angels are dicks anyway, but that combination of petty and does-not-get-it has to be Zachariah. Awesome.
“Don’t get your panties in a wad, sweetcheeks,” Gabriel says around a mouthful of chocolate. “Incest isn’t as bad as they make it sound nowadays. You should have seen Adam’s kids pant after each other. Now there was a pair of brothers who knew what they wanted.”
Dean stares for a few seconds. He can’t not. “Cain and Abel,” he says flatly, “I’m pretty sure one of them killed the other.”
Gabriel waves a hand. “I didn’t say they didn’t have their own set of issues.”
Dean rubs at his eyes. He does not need this. What he needs is to put another hundred miles between him and Sam and the end of the world. “Did you seriously just show up to give me advice on how to bone my brother?”
“No,” Gabriel says immediately. “I showed up to tell you you’re being a doucherag. The advice on screwing your brother was just a bonus. You know. If you wanted to go down that route instead of being an assmunch.”
“You’re a Sam slash Dean fan, aren’t you?”
“I’ve written fifty-five slash fanfics since I’ve met you boys,” Gabriel says proudly. “I’m a bonafide BNF.”
Dean blinks. “And I thought Sammy was a freak.”
“Demon blood will do that to you.”
“Dude,” Dean says reproachfully. He’s allowed to bring up Sam’s blood, but that’s only because most of it is still the same as his, no matter what else’s been added to it. Even if Dad had always made sure that Sam never donated blood, no matter how much Dean needed it.
“Whatever, you know it’s true.”
He’s pretty sure demon blood is what makes Sam so angry, but the freakishness? No, that’s all Dean’s baby brother.
The Impala starts to cheerfully play Zepplin again, regardless of the fact that the tape is still hanging in ribbons from her deck. Dean sucks on his teeth. It’s playing the wrong songs; Gabriel just stretches his arms out along the back of the seat, making a show of getting comfortable as Dean pulls back out onto the highway.
“What do you want from me?” Dean finally demands.
“I kind of want to get to know my baby brother,” Gabriel says. “And, man, your baby brother’s putting a crimp in my style. Castiel’s worried about him. Have you seen Castiel worry before? It’s like a duckling trying to look after a slightly demented puppy. It’s cute and all, but you know it’s just gonna end in tears. Help me out here.”
“Look,” Dean says. “Sam got four years to screw his head on. Four freakin’ normal years without demons, angels, or monsters messing with his skull.” That’s not strictly true, not after what they’d learned from Pestilence’s handler, but it’s close enough for government work.
His point stands.
At the risk of sounding like a Disney princess, he loves his brother. Hell, loves a damn weak word for what he feels for Sam. He sold his soul and, yeah, he probably wouldn’t do it again, but that’s only because he knows Sam would have gone to heaven, would have been happy there if Dean hadn’t pulled his ass back down to earth.
But they’ve spent three years going through loss after loss after motherfucking loss. They need time. Dean needs time, to sort himself out. He wants to be able to look Sam in the eye without thinking, “You left me for a demonic bitch and look where it got us, you bitch.”
Gabriel’s looking at him when Dean pulls himself out of his head. Dean twitches. He can see the white light in the back of Gabriel’s eyes, the one that always creeps him the fuck out, even when Cas is doing it, so he looks back at the road.
“You really think you’re going to be happy sticking your head in the sand?” Gabriel asks. “You? Mister big damn hero? Do you even have any idea what normal people do when they’re not being killed by monsters? Here’s a hint: it’s boring.”
Dean thinks about mowing the lawn, BLT sandwiches, and actual pictures of his family on the walls. “I think I can manage,” he says.
The angel snorts. “And I thought talking to Sam was like hitting yourself in the face with a brick.” Gabriel crosses his arms and arches his eyebrows at Dean. “You know what? Fine. Whatever. Go run off to your little chippy. Me and Cas? We’ll look after your brother. I’m kind of fond of him. It’s not every day someone has the sheer cohunes to stalk me for six months.”
“You sleep with my brother and I’ll kill you,” Dean says.
Gabriel grins. “Who says you get a say in anything?” he asks. “You’re the one who left.”
He’s gone before Dean can think of anything else to say.
Those of you who have seen the finale will see why I had to post this now. *shakes fist at Dean*
