Tuesday - On The Road

[be-themoon.livejournal.com]

Hey everyone! I'm be_themoon , guest-hosting this week. Firstly, thanks to monica_catch22 for stepping in for me yesterday. Secondly! Today's theme is On The Road - road trips, commuting to work, driving home for the holidays, going across country for a job - any way you want to spin it!

You guys know the rules: No more than 5 prompts, and only 3 prompts per fandom unless someone answers one of your prompts.

No spoilers in your prompt until a week after air-date - if there are spoilers in your story, you need to warn and leave three spaces.

And of course, remember the format! Fandom, Character/Character, prompt.

Supernatural, Dean/Castiel, three hundred miles to the next job
Chronicles of Narnia, Susan, she doesn't take the train anymore
Merlin, author's choice, road trip AU

If none of the prompts catch your interest, take a gander at the Lonely Prompts Listing on delicious and adopt a few!

[Theme tag="ontheroad"]

Comments

[pesha.livejournal.com]

House of Wax (2005), Nick and Carly*, when they drive Wade's car, it's like he's in there with them, along for the ride.

*Can also be written as Nick/Carly. <3

[pesha.livejournal.com]

Leverage/Supernatural, Eliot/Dean, "Are we there yet?"

[pesha.livejournal.com]

Supernatural, Dean/Castiel, searching for God

[tigriswolf]

Supernatural, Dean/Sam, “Although we've come to the end of the road, still I can't let you go, it's unnatural, you belong to me, I belong to you .”

who says you can't say no to the devil, SPN, Dean/Sam, "although we've come to the end of the road"

[pesha.livejournal.com]

***NOTE: This might not be what you're looking for but it's what I wound up writing when I started the prompt. <3

~*~

The world burns around them; Hell ain't got shit on the misery Lucifer has brought to Earth. Dean stares at The Devil wearing his brother's face and wishes for the millionth time he'd listened to himself, said yes to Michael, stopped this.

"See, Dean? I told you we'd wind up here again. This is where we've always been meant to be."

Dean wants to have the words, the language, the clever comebacks that used to be so easy but there is no way that he knows of to express how The End feels. He knows how he feels though. He might not have the words but Dean has the knowledge and he knows that this is wrong. Even though Lucifer is smiling and Dean thinks Sam is surely dead inside that shell of his now, even though...Dean knows: this is all fucking wrong.

So he says no.

Dean Winchester smiles. Shakes his head. Says no to The Devil.

"No?"

Dean's smile widens, "You heard me. No."

"Dean," Lucifer shakes his head and Sam's hair falls familiarly into his face, "I think you're answering a question no one has asked yet. Care to tell me what exactly you're saying no to?"

In Heaven, a trumpet sounds.

Dean keeps smiling, his lips say no but his mind says yes. The Devil is not happy but Dean couldn't smile any bigger if he tried. He has finally found the answer; fuck The Devil if he doesn't know the question.

"Dean?"

For the first time in so long it isn't funny, Dean hears Sam in Lucifer's voice. His smile wavers but doesn't break. Dean knows they –Dean and Lucifer- were never meant to be here...he knows this moment is not destined for any son of John Winchester.

"Don't worry, Sammy. I got this."

Dean says it for Sam but it is Lucifer who responds.

"Dean, you don't want to do this. Think about Sam. Do you have any idea what will be left of your brother if you let Michael in?"

All demons are stupid when they're desperate, cornered, staring down the barrel of a sawed-off full of rock salt; Lucifer is no exception. Dean wishes he could see the bastard's face when Michael gets through with him. He guesses maybe he could if he fought hard enough against the archangel's possession but Dean knows he won't because he doesn't really want to see Sam's body when it's all said and done.

A light descends from on high and Dean Winchester stretches his arms up to embrace it. He has always wanted to ride the lightning.

It is the end of the world and Dean should be thinking about how to save it, save everyone, save himself, but he is instead giving up, giving in, giving himself over to some supposedly higher being because he can't save Sam but maybe Michael can. At the end of all things, the only thing that can matter to him is Sam.

He would never have said yes for himself, not even for the whole world, but for Sam? For Sammy, Dean would say yes to anything. As Michael enters him, burns him up from the inside out, Dean realizes that maybe Sammy said yes for him because Lucifer could have offered Sammy the whole world on a plate and Sammy still would've said no but for Dean? For Dean he'd have said yes.

Michael thinks Oh what fools Men may be.

Dean smiles his last, best smile in agreement.

[tigriswolf]

Supernatural, Winchesters, “It was as if, even then, some part of him knew to journey was, would always be, our fate” (Grace Bauer)

[mistalagan.livejournal.com]

I'm not sure this does the quote justice at all, but it's a quick double drabble of what I thought of when I read it.

---
Osiris pulls his hand back into a loose fist, looking at Sam sympathetically, as if he's somehow Sam's friend. "But don't you think that your brother dragged you back into that catastrophic mess because he'd rather damn you with him than be alone?"

Sam smirks, then stares over at his brother. Dean looks lost, won't meet his eyes.

Can't he see? Sure, Sam's had his doubts before, tried to blame Dean and everything else, thought that he could stop hunting. After the yellow-eyed demon died, after he'd saved Dean from hell, after they'd stopped the Apocalypse. He's tried that.

Even at Stanford, checking the paper for news of terrorist attacks and stock prices and college football games, he'd had to stop himself from highlighting suspicious articles. He'd kept massive amounts of salt, enough so Jess teased him about his sodium intake, ready for use. He'd leave the apartment and have to return because he'd automatically picked up a knife.

The furthest afield he'd dared to go was south to Gilroy, north to Marin, because he was afraid he'd start driving and never choose to stop.

He matches Osiris' gaze. "No. One way or another I'd have gotten pulled back in."

[tigriswolf]

Supernatural, Castiel/Dean, “I will let the dark winds take me. And I don’t care where I land” (Grace Bauer)

[ravenspear.livejournal.com]

The Mentalist, Jane/Cho, a seven-hour drive to a crime scene.

[amathela.livejournal.com]

Wizards Of Waverly Place, Justin/Alex, alternative means of transportation

[alcetis.livejournal.com]

Emelen (The Circle Opens/Melting Stones), Briar/Evvy, traveling together, just like old times.

[ice-ziggee.livejournal.com]

RPS, CK/SC, "What are you doing?" "Watch the road and don´t mind me."

[orphan-project.livejournal.com]

Chris had volunteered to drive them the rest of the way, and between the two cars was slightly surpised when everyone but Steve had quickly piled into the other car and took off.

"That's odd, where are they going?"

"You kinda have been a bear all day, they're giving you space. They think I'm the crazy one for staying with you." Steve teased as he pulled the truck's door open.

Chris arched his eyebrow and got into the truck as well. He had been a little on edge today.

They were pulling out of the parking lot and had finally gotten on the freeway when he felt Steve's hand on his hip.

"Dude, what are you doing? I'm driving." Chris looked down at Steve's hand as it moved towards his cock, which was steadily gaining interest in what was going on.

"Watch the road and don't mind me." Steve said soothingly as he cupped Chris.

Chris groaned and his eyes snapped up towards the road. "You're a fuckin tease. Knock it off."

"Oh, I have every intent." Steve whispered back as he leaned across the seat and nipped Chris's earlobe.

Chris turned his head a little to capture Steve's lips, and managed to keep his eyes mostly on the road.

"You couldn't have started this when we were at the corn maze?"

"Hey, you're the one who didn't want to get caught with his pants down."

Chris's eyes widened. "There were CHILDREN!"

Steve laughed. "Don't worry baby, I'll make sure you make up for lost time."

Steve finally managed to get his hand all the way inside of Chris's pants and Chris swerved a little.

"Eyes on the road Christian." Steve smirked as he leaned down.

Chris's hands tightened even further on the wheel.

[alcetis.livejournal.com]

I'm not sure if this is what you wanted, so if it isn't, I'm sorry! It kind of just popped into my head.

Cassie has seen him walking.

He passes by her restaurant every day. He's even been inside a couple of times, but she hides in the back and tells the other waitresses not to mention her.

Sometimes she wants to yell his name. She imagines how good it would feel on her tongue. She pictures his face when he turns around. Maybe he'd smile, or maybe he'd just have that shocked, confused look that she found so annoyingly adorable. He'd definitely kiss her. She misses his kisses.

She thought he'd have given up by now. She thought that he'd stay a couple days, then leave. But it's been months. He has an apartment, a job. She's followed him there a few times, watched him check in behind the desk of a tiny CD store. Watched him give customers a sad little smile as the purchased their obscure CDs and cult DVDs.

Part of her wants him to give up. Wants to prove that she isn't worth it, and that he never really cared. She doesn't want to have been wrong to leave him.

Not that she thinks that she could ever go back. She loves New York more than anything, the colours, the sounds, the variety of people.

She's afraid that Sid will want her to leave.

Sometimes she eats every day. It's easier to, now. She has control over her own life.

She can choose whether or not to be with Sid. It's up to her, for once. Not her uncontrollable feelings, not Michelle, not a death or a disease. It's all up to her.

And she likes it like that.

It's hard, some days, not to call to him, to run into his arms, to make a happy, storybook ending.

But then the control is his as much as it's hers. She'd like to keep her independence for a little while longer, at least.

[darthbatgirl.livejournal.com]

DCU, Connor Hawkes/Tim Drake, a ride in the country

[darthbatgirl.livejournal.com]

DCU, Roy/Tim, "It's time for a road trip!"

[darthbatgirl.livejournal.com]

DCU, Tim/Beryl, motorcycle ride

fic, rated PG

[vega-ofthe-lyre.livejournal.com]

Castiel is rifling through the box of tapes again. Dean knows this doesn’t bode well.

“Dude,” he says. “What.”

“Your music,” Castiel says. “It’s displeasing to the ear.” He taps a battered tape in his hand, an uncharacteristically fidgety and human gesture. Dean gives it a sideways glance, but the cast has been retaped and relabelled so many times he can’t tell which it is.

“No,” Dean says, “It’s Led Zep, which means that it is awesome, and do not touch the deck.”

Castiel gives him an insolently innocent stare and keeps his hands primly in his lap, but while Dean’s head is still turned there is a click of a tape being changed anyway and Dean sighs and there is a tense beat before the music starts.

Castiel is smiling, the son of a bitch.

Dean rubs the bridge of his nose. “Okay,” he says. “Look, I love Journey as much as the next guy, but I’m putting my foot down. From now on, there is a moratorium on Glee-watching for you and Sam both.”

“You would do well to learn from the students of William McKinley High School,” Castiel says. “Their rendition of this song is spiritually uplifting.”

“Yeah, my heart is freaking swelling with divine light over here,” Dean says, “and you do realize that the show is fictional, don’t you,” but he catches himself drumming his thumbs on the steering wheel in time with the music all the same. Irritably, he flexes his hands and clamps them back on the wheel and pointedly does not look at Castiel.

There is a moment, and then Castiel says under his breath, “It’s remarkable how much the more unsavoury aspects of your character resemble those of Sue Sylvester at times.”

“Dude,” Dean says.

[weesta.livejournal.com]

Watching someone ride a motorcycle was a helluva a lot sexier than actually riding on the back of one. Logan was freezing, insecure in his position and not all that confident in Alec's driving ability. Did the man ever invest in shocks or was he just aiming for all the potholes?

Logan decided that negative thinking wouldn't get him anywhere and attempted to acquire a Zen attitude about the situation - there was nothing he could do about it, so he might as well make the best of it. First off, he couldn't warm all of his body parts, but he could warm his hands. Logan wiggled his hands under Alec's jacket and up toward his chest. Already his hands were warmer, and what do you know, this new position gave him a tighter grip and improved his stability.

And hey...as an added bonus, Logan slid forward closer to Alec's back; his legs instinctively gripped the other man with greater pressure. Suddenly the motion of the bike, the vibrations of the motor and proximity to Alec's backside opened up a new level of Logan's awareness. Maybe this Zen thing had something going for it. Apparently motorcycles were damn sexy.

[ravenspear.livejournal.com]

The Mentalist, Jane, on the carnival trail with his father

[gaffsie.livejournal.com]

SG1/SGA, Cam/John, Baby, you can drive my car (Beatles)

[gaffsie.livejournal.com]

SGA, John/Teyla, driving lesson

[aravistarkheena.livejournal.com]

DCU; Tim Drake/Beryl Hutchinson; "Have you considered making London more than just a pit stop, Boy Wonder?"

[aravistarkheena.livejournal.com]

DCU; Tim Drake/Zachary Zatara; Future Fic: Zat's on tour, Tim's lonely

Comment fic: One Night

[faile-neume.livejournal.com]

Follow the link.

Zatara wants nothing more than a strong drink and some time alone after ten nights of straight shows. The only bar in Gotham that Zat trusts anymore is usually deserted this time of night, so he nearly falls over in shock when he sees someone familiar sitting at the bar.

"Timothy?" Zat practically squeaks, too shocked to be concerned by the high pitch of his voice.

Tim's head snaps up and he meets Zat's eyes for a second then drops his gaze back to his drink. Zatara frowns and takes a seat next to him. (http://faile-neume.livejournal.com/52535.html)

[be-themoon.livejournal.com]

Heroes/Supernatural, Peter & Dean, remember how to move slow

[be-themoon.livejournal.com]

original fiction, author's choice, two Tuesdays from here

[me-ya-ri.livejournal.com]

A/N: OMG, you should not make the characters start talking in my head! Strange, strange things happen when you do. #^^# (I think that someday this is going to have to grow into its own epic. *sigh*)

"What would you like for supper?"

He pondered the question, turning his face towards her though his eyes would never open. They were sewn shut, sewn shut to preserve the sight that slowly ate away at him from the inside. She was beautiful to his sightless eyes, a panoply of past actions blending to present impatience into future actions spread wide like a river spreading out over a delta, slowing and dropping its load of silt.

"I should like to be on the delta where all things slow and calm," he said.

Her teeth gritted with annoyance. She was young, younger than him, no much older, his grandmother's age, no young. He sighed, turning back to the heavy parchment lying in his lap. It was so hard to keep track of people. They changed so rapidly, making things difficult by being so concrete.

"Perhaps some fruit and vegetable pies," she offered with the sense of someone pushed past her endurance.

He nodded. "Two Tuesdays from here there will song and weeping. I shall eat blood that day."

"You're not allowed meat," she snapped. "We'll go with the fruit and pies."

She got up and stomped out of the tent that sheltered him from the sun. The darkness behind his eyes flashed to pink brilliance for a moment, blocking out the vision of the man who would come in a certain amount of time. As the flap closed the vision returned. Yes, two Tuesdays from here he would taste blood and see fire. He would walk instead of being chained to his pallet. The parchments would be torn from his fingertips and thrown into a fire. He would sing and rejoice while the tribe that sheltered and confined him wept.

He ran his fingers over his eyes, trailing one hand up to the tattoos that marked his forehead and then down to the large triangular one on his cheek. He smiled.

"Freedom tastes like blood and ashes," he said to the empty tent. "It smells like burning and semen. It feels like dancing on coals."

It would be worth it to be free.

[caramelsilver.livejournal.com]

Gossip Girl, Chuck/Serena, let's run away.

[caramelsilver.livejournal.com]

Chronicles of Narnia, Edmund and Peter, at the end of our journey