Bite Sized Bits of Fic

That had been a rather brutal job they'd just come from. The people they helped had actually been of no help to the Wincheters. It wasn't like they walked in, expecting a written summary of events, but come on, to have no clue? Really? Dean dragged a hand up over his face, feeling the day old stubble on his chin and cheeks. He continued by rubbing his hands through his hair, feeling the exhaustion wash over him. Was this job ever going to get easier? You'd think by now all the demons, hellspawns, demigods, Angels and celestial beings would turn tail and run when they heard the Impala pull up. But, there was always something out there needing hunting. Needed killing. A family to save so they didn't go through what he and Sam went through. Still going through.

They had nearly lost a fourteen year old girl to to a Ghoul. It had taken on the form of the teen's crush, luring her to the cemetery to feed off of. The thing had the girl believing it was in love with her. Kissing her and biting down into the soft flesh at the base of her neck. Dean had managed to stop it from making her its next meal with a shotgun blast to its back. But, that had only momentarily stunned it. Sam had taken that opportunity to grab the girl, pulling her out of the line of fire. Shock from blood loss and seeing the creature's true form had sent her into a panic. Sam had barely managed to stop the blood and calm her before the Ghoul had tried to go after him.

Dean managed to get off another shot before it attacked Sam. It stopped, looked from Sam to Dean, curling it blood soaked lips into a snarl. Dean watched as the shotgun wounds began to regenerate. That was new. "Sammy, the damn thing's regenerating." Before he could say anything else, the Ghoul had him by the throat. Damn, they moved fast. Black spots appeared before his eyes as his airway was blocked. He clawed at the hand trying to get it to release him.

Sam had gone back to the girl to make sure he'd stopped the bleeding before coming to Dean's aid. He shot the damn thing in the leg, causing it to howl in pain and loosen its grip on Dean's throat. Dean managed to force the fingers from his throat. He'd definitely have marks on his skin tomorrow. He gasped for that precious air, feeling the burn in his lungs. "Dean." Was all Sam said as he threw a shovel to him. He caught it, moving to grasp it in both hands. Using it like a baseball bat, he brought it down over the Ghoul's head. He kept hitting it until the skull had caved in on itself, making the face unrecognizable. The body hit the ground with a thud, resting at Dean's feet. He turned the shovel, pointing the blade down before lifting it up. He brought the blade down, severing the Ghoul's head from its body. That was really the only way to make sure it was dead.

He dropped the shovel, bent at the waist with his hands on his knees. He waited for his breathing to even out. His throat burned. Once he managed to control his breathing he stood to his full height, wincing in pain. He wiped the sweat from his brow on his shirt sleeve. He looked at his chest, seeing his shirt splattered with blood. He sighed, another shirt most likely ruined.

"Come Sam, let's get the girl home." Wearily he walked to the car, followed by Sam who practically carried the girl. Fourty-five minutes later and several profuse thank yous from the girl's parents, they were unlocking the door to their motel room. Dean flicked the light on, tossed his keys on the table before dropping onto his bed. He groaned as his back hit the mattress. He knew he needed to get out of his dirty clothes, but couldn't find the energy to move.

Sam cocked his head to the side, looking at Dean. "You look exhausted."

Looking up at Sam, Dean shook his head. "Dude, you have no idea."

From:

drabblewriter.livejournal.com

Aw, poor Dean. Thanks for the fill.

From:

I know, he almost always comes away with the worst out of it.

From:

drabblewriter.livejournal.com

Any, any, zombie apocalypse au

From:

tigriswolf

Supernatural, Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester,

Counted all my mistakes and there's only one
Standing out from the list of the things I've done
All the rest of my crimes don't come close
To the look on your face when I let you go

From:

He'd done a lot of shitty things in his lifetime, but this . . . There weren't words to describe it. There hadn't even been a category created for what he'd done. Dean could still see the look in Sam's eyes. The hurt. The confusion. The anger. But, it had to be done. He had to let him go. Had to let him find his own way, make a life for himself. Dean needed to know Sam was safe. Needed to make sure he was happy. This fight, the family business had been weighing heavily on Sam. He could see it changing him. He rarely smiled. He had been a pretty happy if quiet kid. Neither had what anyone would dare call a normal childhood. But, Dean had always protected him. Made sure he had food, clothes, a place to sleep. Dean had always put Sam's needs first before his own.

At least that's what he thought he'd been doing. That was, until a week ago when he realized how selfish he'd been. He'd walked into the diner to meet up with Sam. Sam wasn't alone, sitting in the booth. He'd been talking to a woman. They were engaged in an animated conversation. He watched as Sam's body relaxed. He threw his head back in laughter at something she'd said. He had reached out and let his fingers touch her hand, before pulling away. There was a sparkle in his eyes. One that had been missing for a long time. He was happy, even for only that moment in time. Dean had backed away, not wanting to ruin this for Sam.

Leaving the diner, he walked the quiet street of the town they had stopped in. He let the cool, crisp air was over him. When he stopped and looked up, he realized his feet had carried him to a small stone church. Dean did something he hadn't done in a long time. He went in and prayed. He sat in the last pew, head down, hands clasped together. He prayed for the strength to do what he knew he had to. To let Sam go. It wasn't until he felt his phone vibrating that he left the church. Once outside he checked his phone, seeing it had been Sam.

Without listening to the message or returning Sam's call, he walked back to the diner. From the window, he could see Sam still sitting in the same booth. This time he was alone. As he entered the building he watched Sam stand. The look of concern from Sam cut through to his heart.

"Dean, where the hell have you been? You weren't answering your phone. We were supposed to meet over an hour ago." Dean looked down at his feet, not wanting to meet Sam's eyes. He slid into the bench opposite Sam and waited for Sam to sit. He knew he had to do this now, or he never would.

"Sam, would you sit? We need to talk." Without a word Sam sat back down. His eyes were fixed on Dean, making him shift uncomfortably in his seat. Dean closed his eyes, sighed before speaking. He didn't make eye contact at first. He needed to get the words out before he looked at Sam.

"This has been a long time coming. I'm leaving tonight, without you. I saw you with that woman. You looked happy, you need that, deserve it. You need to get out and make a life before the hunting destroys you. Turns you cold like it did Dad. Like it did me. I need you to go. I can't be watching you all the time. Protecting your ass."

From:

Dean finally turned his eyes on Sam. He looked like a beaten puppy. Dean had to stop himself from changing his mind, telling him he didn't really mean what he said. But, he couldn't. He couldn't take this chance away from Sam. As much as it was breaking his heart, he had to do the right thing.

Sam opened and closed his mouth several times, trying to find the words to speak. "Is this a joke? Are you doing this because of the woman you saw me talking with? I met her at the Library. She works there." Sam brought his hands up to his head, pushing aside the hair from his face. He rested his hands on the top of his head. He felt like he was going to black out, his breath coming in hard gasps. He'd always thought it would be him and Dean until the end. Not just brother, but best friends. They protected each other. How was this even possible?

"Dean?" Sam couldn't say anything else. His voice cracking with emotion. He lowered his hands to the table, noticing that they were shaking. He closed his eyes, telling himself to calm down. He heard movement coming from in front of him. He opened his eyes to see Dean walking away. He watched as Dean went out to the car, opened the trunk and grabbed his duffle bag.

Dean closed the trunk and leaned against the car. Waiting for the wave of sadness to wash over him before returning to Sam. When he walked back in, his face was an emotionless mask. One he wore all to often to hide what he was really feeling. He carried Sam's bag to him, placing it at his feet as he sat back down.

"Listen, Sammy. This needs to be done. You shouldn't have been involved in any of this. I was wrong to show up at Stanford and drag you into it. I was selfish. I just wanted my little brother with me. I know we don't say it often, or even enough, but I love you. This is why I'm doing this."

Sam looked at him, not knowing what to say. Realizing this was the hardest thing Dean had ever done. And he was doing this for him. Giving him a chance at having a life. He heard the words, whispered to him from Dean. "Please don't hate me." His breath hitched in his throat as he watched Dean stand to leave. He quickly stood, grabbing Dean by the arm. He pulled him into a hug. "I don't hate you. I love you. I'll let you know where I end up." He stood, watching Dean until the Impala disappeared into the night. He walked over to the register to ask about a place to stay. He noticed the help wanted sign. His lips curled into a smile, maybe this was meant to be.

Dean stared down at the text message from Sam as he leaned back against the headboard. He was in yet another run down motel. Sam had stayed in that town. Found a job at that diner and a temporary place to stay. He was good. He was safe. He was happy. Dean found some small comfort in that. Sighing, he closed his eyes, hoping to slip into a dreamless sleep, repeating to himself that he'd done the right thing in the end.

From:

tigriswolf

Thank you!

From:

You're welcome.

From:

tigriswolf

Supernatural, Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester,

Yeah, the taste of your lips on the tip of my tongue
Is at the top of the list of the things I want
Mind is running in circles of you and me
Anyone in between is the enemy

From:

cozy-coffee.livejournal.com

The aroma of roses overwhelms the air around them as they move as one, body dancing in tandem, hips grinding faster and faster to the point of insanity. His ribcage rattles against the beat of his heart as Dean lowers his lush mouth to kiss him sweetly, tasting like honey and as he presses his palm to his too-too skin, surly Dean can feel Sam’s heart pounding a bit too hard in his chest.

Every touch of his brother’s pink, velvet soft lips makes him burn hotter and drives the arousal within his body to soaring heights. The heat blazing inside of Sam is searing as his heartbeat kicks up, thumping faster. He’s quivering beneath Dean, flushed, breath coming in fast, ragged pants. His nails leave small crescent marks on his brother’s back where he is gripping too tightly; he’s lost in a storm of desire Dean kisses his passionately.

The pleasure is madding, Sam’s mouth is warm and soft on his, pink lips brushing over his stubbly chin as his touch makes him break out in goosebumps. Between them a spark flares, burning as hot as the love that shimmers in within their hearts.

♥ END ♥

From:

tigriswolf

Thank you!

From:

Pirates of the Caribbean, Elizabeth Swan/Will Turner/Jack Sparrow, there are many things she does not tell either of them, but there are many things they already know.

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Fullmetal Alchemist, Any, I'm fading away. You know I used to be on fire. Yeah, I used to be on fire.

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Gilmore Girls, Rory Gilmore/Paris Gellar, no matter how hard I try to run away, how far I go and how high I climb, I always seem to end up back in your arms. And, for a moment, you make me forget why I run, every time.

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Tortall, Keladry of Mindelan +/ any, ~~*cough*because of the Graveyard Hag*cough*~~ Kel somehow develops wings. What happens next?

From:

tigriswolf

Like, actually usable or just tiny little pointless wings?

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Either/or, I'm not too picky :D

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Dragon Age, anypair + others, what do others say about A/B as opposed to A + B?

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Leverage, ensemble or Hardison/Parker/Eliot, wingfic au

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Mass Effect, Shepard/any + Mordin, Mordin's (and any's) reaction when Shepard grows a pair of wings

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Dragon Age, Cassandra/M!Trevelyan, a grand romance

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Shadowhunters, Raphael /Simon Lewis, high school dance

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