life

Merry Christmas to my Supernatural Friends! (Part Three)

Thu, 24 Dec 2009 04:25:03 GMT

Fanfic: Dean Winchester’s Excellent Christmas Adventure

Authors: borgmama1of5 and sandymg

Summary: There has to have been, even in his peculiarly bizarre life, a day where if Dean squinted really hard, it could kind of pass as normal. This was not that day.

Spoilers: None. Set preseries – Christmas 2004

Wordcount: 6,800 – One shot

Genre: Gen, Crack, Christmas, preseries

Characters: Sam, Dean, a Bumble

Rating: PG-13

Disclaimer: We don't own Supernatural or any of its characters. That doesn’t mean we wouldn’t like to…

Dean Winchester’s Excellent Christmas Adventure--Part 3

Part One here: http://borgmama1of5.livejournal.com/34961.html?#cutid1
Part Two here: http://borgmama1of5.livejournal.com/35171.html

Five minutes and Sammy becomes a Bumble for life? The dogsled ride to the mall had taken fifteen minutes going downhill. How was he going to get back to his brother in time? And only because something in the other man’s matter-of-fact bearing reminded Dean of another cantankerous cap-wearing hunter did Dean turn to him with panicked eyes and ask, “Yukon? What do I do?”

The trapper stared at him. “I already done told you, boy. You gotta fly.”

“Come again.”

“Hop on the back of the reindeer and he’ll get you there. Won’t you, nice fella?” This last was said to the reindeer who Dean could have sworn nodded yes.

“But … reindeers don’t really fly. Tha...t’s make believe.”

Cornelius laughed. “It’s Christmas Eve, boy! And you got yourself a Bumble nearby. Near enough to get this little one off the ground a short distance anyway. Now hop to it, if’n you wanna save your brother.”

Flying? Why did it have to be flying? Dean’s stomach was doing the jitterbug, the Charleston and the twist all at once. Flying scared the ever-living crap out of him. Not that anybody knew this. Especially as their father always drove everywhere.

Sam, you owe me … you will owe me for freakin’ ever. Gingerly he approached Rudy. “Nice boy,” he said petting its back gently. He gingerly put a leg over its squat body and held on around its neck. Dean’s legs touched the ground on either side and he wondered how the heck the puny animal was going to get them both up in the air.

“Ready?” Cornelius asked.

Dean had his eyes scrunched tight and was trying to remember how to breathe. “Yeah,” he squeaked out.

“To the Bumble … now …”

The little animal took one, two, three little leaps and then it was airborne. Dean felt his stomach sink and then wind push against his face and he let out one long, “Ahhhhhh ….” as he held on for dear life. Oh god oh god oh god … he gasped for air and he knew he had to calm down or he’d hyperventilate and pass out and that wasn’t a good idea when sitting on the back of a swaying reindeer flying through the sky on frickin’ Christmas Eve.

He dug his hands into the animal’s smooth fur, digging his nails in harder than he should but he had no choice or he’d fall off and his father would never forgive his dead ass for letting Sammy turn into a walking shag rug. The wind was frigid, whipping against his nose, his cheeks, burning his eyes when he dared slit them open them … the ground was littered with little greenish specks that were… tree tops … oh god … Shut his eyes tight again. Man was not meant to fly, no sirree, if so, they’d have wings like frickin’ angels and he didn’t have wings, nope he had chicken feathers because …. Whoa! The reindeer veered right and was drifting toward a rather vicious looking mountain. Was that mountain always there? He didn’t remember it before. Ahhhhh … another shake. “Easy Rudy, we’re pals here, aren’t we? Flyin’ buddies. Don’t go shakin’ me off, bud. We need to get to Sammy. Get him the mojo nog.”

The reindeer let out a small sound. Sounded like a gleep or maybe a gurp, coulda been a burp, but he liked to think that it was trying to make him feel better. He leaned in closer and gave it a sort of hug, not that he wasn’t squeezing the hell out of the animal as it was. Didn’t want to break its ribs. Flying. Man, he hated flying ... Sitting on the plane, six-year-old Sam by the window all excited and peering down and asking what clouds felt like and what would happen if the window goddamn opened and could they get more peanuts … And Dad saying that Dean and Sammy needed to stay with Pastor Jim, he’d come get them as soon as he could. But they’d never been away from Dad before for very long and who would take care of Dad, and what if when Dean was gone, the monster came and took Dad like it took Mom?

A slight shift and he sensed they were finally heading down, which was good, because down was land and land was good, was where he belonged. And Sam was there. Only they were descending rather fast weren’t they? Shouldn’t the incline be smoother? Shouldn’t Rudy be slowing down about -- Oh shit!

Dean was falling, falling, falling, his arms and legs flailing uselessly … one hand swiped the fuzzy leg of the reindeer but there was no way to grasp it and even as he felt sick from anticipation of hitting the ground the canteen of elfnog tumbled out of his other hand and he was gonna die and Sam was gonna stay a Bumble and he really screwed up this time … I’m sorry, Dad … I’m sorry, Sam … Dean closed his eyes.

His back hit the ground with a thump and it was an involuntary thing to look at the sky one last time. He must have almost made it back to the woods by the motel, for hovering above him, out-of-focus, was his brother’s face. “I’m sorry, Sam,” he gasped. But maybe, maybe it wasn’t too late, “Sam, the canteen, I dropped it,” he had to make Sam understand. “But it’s gotta be close, you find it now and drink the elfnog and you’ll be okay. Won’t be a Bumble no more.”

Dean closed his eyes again and waited for the pain to hit, a fall from that high must surely have broken his back. Then he heard laughing.

“Dude.”

Open eyes again and yes, that was Sam still looming, still blurry around the edges but … he wasn’t fuzzy Bumble Sam, he was just usual ginormatron Sam?

“Elfnog?” Sam was … chortling. “I’m thinking you had a little too much eggnog, bro!”

Dean was lying on the carpet between the two motel beds.

“You’re not a Bumble?” Why was he having so much trouble making sense out of this?

Sam quirked his head. “Okay, Dean, no more spiked eggnog for you.”

Dean stumbled back up onto his bed, holding his head. No. This didn’t … It was a dream? Sammy was okay? He peered at his brother who now sat next to him on the creaky bed. “I don’t—”

Jimmy Durante was warbling “Frosty the Snowman” on the T.V. Right, they’d been watching a Christmas classics marathon on the tube.

“Yeah, I don’t know how much you added to your ’nog, but it sounded like you were having a heckuva party.”

Sam’s smirk was interrupted by his cell buzzing. As Sam checked it Dean saw his plastic cup sitting on the nightstand. Still had something in it and he drained it in one gulp.

That had been messed up … flyin’ on Rudolph … and Sam…

“Huh,” Sam looked up from his message. “That was Pastor Jim. Remember Mrs. Rodin? Baked us those Christmas cookies that year we spent the holidays with Pastor Jim? Anyway, I always ask about her. Seems her daughter just had twins.” Sam stuffed his phone back in his pocket, and Dean could see the wicked teasing look in Sam’s eyes.

“Sounded like one heckuva dream, Dean. A Bumble? Like in the Rudolph special? And you were hollering about six tits … which is actually kind of perverse.”

Dean looked at his brother. Sasquatch – all his freakin’ fault growing halfway to Bumble already. “Shoulda left you a Bumble, you Bigfoot. I’ll have you know I flew on a reindeer to save you.”

“Really? That part sounds cool.”

Sam would think this. “Actually they’re kinda small and they smell. But not as bad as the Bumble.”

“Mm-hmm.”

“Oh, and Bobby was in it. Well, he was Yukon Cornelius.”

Sam laughed.

“Sam?”

“Mmm?”

“There’s no such thing as a yeti , right?”

Sam’ eyes widened and his stare grew dead serious. “Sure there is. Very mystical creatures. Holy even. Very few left. And tonight … they need to have a special baby or … the world just goes poof.” His idiot brother burst into a piercing cackle. Clearly Dean’d been talking a lot in his dream. Bitch.

“Dean?”

Dean didn’t answer, too annoyed and embarrassed and otherwise feeling most scrooge-like.

“Did something bad happen in the dream? ’Cause you were awfully upset at one point … I almost woke you …”

Dean looked at Sam. Here, safe, with him. “Nah. Just your usual monster stuff. Nothin’ I couldn’t handle asleep or awake. He looked at the time. Midnight. Sam noticed at the same time.

“Merry Christmas, Sam.”

“You, too, bro.”

The end

Merry Christmas to All my Supernatural Friends (part two)

Thu, 24 Dec 2009 04:08:49 GMT

Fanfic: Dean Winchester’s Excellent Christmas Adventure

Authors: borgmama1of5 and sandymg

Summary: There has to have been, even in his peculiarly bizarre life, a day where if Dean squinted really hard, it could kind of pass as normal. This was not that day.

Spoilers: None. Set preseries – Christmas 2004

Wordcount: 6,800 – One shot

Genre: Gen, Crack, Christmas, preseries

Characters: Sam, Dean, a Bumble

Rating: PG-13

Disclaimer: We don't own Supernatural or any of its characters. That doesn’t mean we wouldn’t like to…

Dean Winchester's Excellent Christmas Adventure--Part 2

Part One here: http://borgmama1of5.livejournal.com/34961.html?#cutid1

The cries of the birthing yeti were swallowed by the groan of earth giving way and in a relentless wave the ceiling of the cave plummeted down on them. Without conscious thought Dean seized the shoulders of the female and heaved her forward out of the maelstrom of rocks and dirt, then turned back for Sam.

Who was gone.

Where Sam and the father yeti had been was an unmoving earthen barrier.

“Sam!”

Dean had only his hands with which to tunnel through the implacable barrier to his brother. Didn’t matter.

There was a tiny movement in the mound and Dean focused his frantic scooping there. The struggles from under the dirt aided Dean’s efforts and then a push uncovered a limb and the face of the yeti.

No.

Where the hell was Sam?

Dean stared at the dead eyes of the father yeti and refused to believe that his brother was buried under this mountain of rubble and stone and boulders the size of…. Behind him there came another loud wail. Mom. The contractions or whatever the hell one called it were getting closer together.

“D’n …”

Thank God. “Sam! Sam, you okay?”

His brother’s hand was clawing through the dirt, out from under the dead thing’s belly. Dean shoved handfuls of earth aside until Sam’s upper body was visible.

“Yeah, the yeti saved me. Took the brunt of the boulders. Poor thing.”

Dean continued moving rocks as fast as he could. There were so many, god, this would take hours. They needed a crane.

“Dean stop. How’s the mother. Tell me she’s okay?!”

“She’s alive. Still moaning.”

“Good. Listen. You have to birth this baby.”

“Sammy are you crazy? We have to get you out of there. I need to get you out—”

“NO. You don’t understand. This baby must live. Nothing …. Nobody is more important. Dean, help it, and don’t look back. Now, Dean, go!”

“I don’t know nothin’ about birthing a baby! Let me get you out of here, you can help her!”

“Dean, take care of her first! Just stay calm and keep talking to her. Sing again, she likes that.” A pinched look crossed Sam’s face. “Anyway, I think I broke something so you’ve gotta do it.”

Dean looked from Sam to the mother. He had no idea if labor for unnatural creatures was anything like labor for real women, but if it was he was really glad at that moment to be a guy. The poor thing was curled on her side where he’d flung her, alternating ragged pants with screeching. She was shaking and Dean thought she must be cold so he pulled off his jacket and placed it on her. Looked like a stamp on a bear rug. She started to struggle and Dean realized she was trying to get on her paws.

A huge spasm shook her body and her bellow threatened to bring down more of the cave.

“Shh, shh!” Dean made an ineffective move to rub her back.

“Dean! Catch the baby!”

Baby?! Those were small, cute pink things. Sometimes, cute brown things. Never fur-covered … and the size of a baby polar bear! With about 3 rows of small, razor sharp teeth! Oh god, what was this … other stuff was coming out … no … oh, for Pete’s sake –

“SAM … there’s another Bumble junior coming out … Sam!”

His brother wasn't responding. Dean needed to go to him, make sure Sam was all right ... but these baby hairballs were demanding his attention. He yelled for Sam again and then realized he was looking at frickin' umbilical cords! and he knew he was gonna have to do something about them ...

"Sam?" He didn't care if Sam heard the panic Dean was feeling.

There was a groan, then weakly, "You gotta cut and tie the cords, and keep 'em warm ..."

Cut -- okay, he had his knife. Tie -- what the hell could he use for that? Dean's gaze fell on the leather band around his right wrist. The point of the knife quickly split it in half, then again. With the babies' cords handled he swaddled first one, then the other in the old t-shirts from Sam's pack. Good thing his brother was Sasquatc- sized. Splashed some holy water on their blood-matted faces to clear their eyes. Enormous golden eyes that looked at him with total innocence and ... trust?

Mama yeti gave one last whimper and shut her eyes. Dean panicked. No. He leaned over and yes, she was still breathing. Cripes, Bumble breath was awful.

The babies were wiggling, spewing slightly. They were cute in a hideous sort of way. He hated what he had to do next, but it was inevitable. She was female so she must have … he dug through the fur. There. Oh, more than two.

“Well kids, looks like it’s your lucky day, double taps, extras on the house.” He slid each baby up to the mother’s teats and watched just this side of amazed no not moved when they latched on and started suckling.

He ran back to the opening where his brother lay under the rubble. “Deck the halls, Sam, I just saved Christmas …

Sam? Sam!”

Christ no! Sam’s head was lolled over his chest, eyes shut, and Dean couldn’t tell if he was breathing. Dean began clawing at the earth trapping his brother, heedless of the pain as his hands became bruised and bloody. This wasn’t happening.

“Move over, I can help.”

Dean jumped back, turned to stare into the eyes of a large, bearded man, wearing suspenders and a plaid shirt, carrying a pick axe. “Name’s Yukon Cornelius … and if you move outta the way, I can break through and free the kid.”

He looked a little like Bobby with his full beard. The man started hammering down on the rocks with incredible strength. “Don’t just stand there,” he hollered. “Move these rocks as I dig.”

Dean scooped handfuls of rocks and stones and tossed them aside. Below, Sam lay still. It seemed to take forever but slowly, eventually, they made headway, a path was cleared wide enough for Dean to grab Sam’s shoulders and pull his limp body out of the cave-in.

He laid his little brother on the ground and immediately felt for a pulse -- his own felt like it had long stopped. Oh god no. Nothing. Sam wasn’t breathing. His heart wasn’t beating. He couldn’t be …

“Quick boy, go to the Bumble and get some milk.”

“Wh … at?” Dean squeaked.

“Wanna save this boy? Well the only thing that’s gonna do it is Bumble milk. Lucky we happen to have Mama Bumble handy.”

There has to have been, even in his peculiarly bizarre life, a day where if Dean squinted really hard, it could kind of pass as normal.

This was not that day.

In fact, he could not think of a strong enough word to describe just how messed up his world was right now. His rational mind was gibbering in a corner. His brother was dead and an Alaskan trapper with the name of a character from a T.V. Christmas special was telling Dean that mother’s milk from a supernatural creature that doesn’t freakin’ exist would fix Sam.

He could do this, right?

Dean squeezed gently, aiming carefully into the canteen. He was milking yeti teats. He would never, ever be able to fondle a girl again without thinking of this… I’m doing this for you, Sam, and goddamn this better work and you will owe me forever. Okay, another new one – the miracle juice was freakin’ pink. Looked like watered-down Pepto Bismol. Smelled like it, too.

Milking the Bumble was harder than it looked. The rugrats weren’t into sharing and kicked so that the milk squirted him in the eye a few times and it stung like a bitch but finally he had what he figured was about a tablespoon. Enough? Let’s see, what was the dosage for yeti resurrection juice?

The trapper lifted up Sam’s head and motioned for Dean to hurry. Dean fell to his knees before his brother. This was ridiculous. Insane. And if it didn’t work he didn’t want to see tomorrow.

Carefully he tipped the canteen into Sam’s mouth and poured the thin, pink liquid down his brother’s throat. Dean stared, willing the impossible. C’mon Sam. Please.

Sam gave a soft hiss, followed by coughing, then sputtering … then Sam shot up like he was spring-loaded and grumbled, “What the heck did you give me? Yuch!”

Sam started to wipe the spittle off his face with his … paw. Which was sprouting a covering of dirty white fur and fingernails that were black and pointy and six freakin’ inches long and growing!

The fabric of Sam’s clothes shredded like discarded wrapping paper as Sam’s arms and legs exploded with muscle and hair.

“De…oar!” burst out of a fang-filled mouth.

Dean imagined this is what it would look like to see Dr. Banner hulk out okay green, not furry but this could not be happening to his baby brother!

“Be careful of the teeth!”

Dean turned on Cornelius. “Why does my brother have two sets of teeth and fur?! What the hell is going on?!”

The big man looked a bit sheepish. “Forgot ’bout that little side effect …”

“You forgot? That my brother would turn into a permanent fixture at a freakin’ Star Wars convention?”

“D’n … wz … hap …grrrr?”

Dean turned back to Sam. He was never going to call his brother Sasquatch again if they got out of this one. How could they ever explain this to their father tomorrow morning? Dad, Merry Christmas, thought you needed a new coat … this one kinda, um moves. But that worry had to wait because at that moment Sam was trying to stand and man, he was big. Holy Bigfoot big.

“How do we undo this?” he asked Cornelius, certain that the man knew more than he’d said.

“Well, we’ll have to act quick. But … I think … if we get Sam some elfnog within the hour he’ll be back to his normal self in no time.”

“Elfnog?” Was Dean dead? Had the monster eaten him and this was the afterlife? Yeah, it’d be the kind of afterlife he’d get thrown into.

“Don’t look so worried. You whip it up like regular eggnog except for the one extra ingredient.”

“Pixie dust?” Dean snarked.

Cornelius frowned. “No, idjit … that would only take care of the fur but not the teeth. We need reindeer dander, ’course!”

Okay. No problem. He needed to find a reindeer, which lived where exactly? Sam would know. But Sam was currently about as helpful as a carpet.

“Mrr… all.”

“’S okay, Sam. We’re going to get you what you need.”

“Ma..rrr....ll.”

Dean stared into Sam’s furry face. Sounded like “mall.” Sam wanted to go shopping? That would go over well with store security ... Wait. Of course … “The local mall had reindeer in its Santa display!”

A rumble behind them made them all turn.

Mama Bumble was standing, looking around … Uh-oh …

The shriek was deafening. Dean’s ears felt like they were being blasted by dynamite. Poor thing. She figured out her mate was dead.

“Um … boys … I think we should go,” Cornelius said just as the female yeti turned toward them, three rows of teeth bared at once with ravenous hunger burning in her black eyes.

It was a nightmarish scramble, Yukon swinging his pick-axe to clear a way out, and while Dean tried to push his walking-fur-coat-of-a-brother after the miner, Chewie was gonna be difficult and insist on staying between Dean and the pissed off mother. The two hairy beasts traded deafening roars and when the female swiped those fierce talons at his brother’s face Dean had his gun back out and was ready to blast her … and Sasquatch smacked Dean’s wrist hard enough to bruise and his weapon went flying.

Whatever Sam was yowling at him was totally unintelligible but the violent headshake of “no” was pretty plain.

“What the hell you doin’ Sam?!”

His brother was walking back into the lair making little “mmrrpping” noises, going to where the baby Bumbles had been left on the ground. Mama wasn’t exactly “mrpping” back but she wasn’t trying to take either of their heads off for the moment.

Dean watched in shock as his brother picked up one of the small-horse-sized babies and rocked it, then handed it to its mother and did the same with the second one.

“Come on, I’ve cleared the way out!” Yukon’s yell echoed from the far end of tunnel he’d hacked out.

“Okay, dude, we are leaving NOW!” Dean seized two handfuls of fur on his brother’s rump—another mental picture that he would never erase—and tugged until with an annoyed growl Sam came with him. Dean would swear his brother was saying something like, “It’s been a pleasure to help you, Mrs. Yeti, and you have beautiful babies, and we’re really sorry about your husband…” in Bumble-talk.

Back outside Dean hustled both of the other escapees from a holiday special back to the Impala.

And like he knew was gonna happen, because he was just having one of those days, sure enough the car’s locks were frozen solid.

“No problem” Cornelius said. “We can take my dogsled.”

Dean looked over at the small sleigh hitched to four medium-sized dogs and then back to his brother who was about the size of a tree now and knew that was not gonna work.

“Srraaay heergreee.”

“Looks like you’ll have to, Sam. But don’t go back to that cave, you hear me. Just, um, stay put, out of sight, and … don’t eat anyone, okay?”

“Gotta hurry boy, gotta get that dander, make the elfnog and get back here in less than 40 minutes or your brother’s gonna go full out Bumble.”

Dean gave Sam a last worried look and sat behind the trapper for the ride down toward the village to the small shopping district. He had to admit it was very efficient way to travel in the snow and also kinda fun. He remembered going sledding once as a kid with his brother, the thrill of tearing down the hill, big wet snowflakes sticking in his eyelashes, the sled toppling over when they hit bottom and dumping both of them in a snow bank.

Dad had acted kind of mad at how soaked they’d gotten, but he’d made them hot chocolate as they’d dried off and had a sad kind of smile on his face while he watched them drink it. Dean blinked and they were at the mall entrance where Cornelius split off from him saying he was going to mix the elfnog and they’d meet back here in twenty minutes. The tracker told him to bring the reindeer with him because the dander was the last ingredient and had to be fresh or it wouldn’t be potent enough to do a full reversal.

He’d broken into some places before but this was his first mall-breaking-and-entering. Luckily the security system was pretty elementary and he was inside and walking around the deserted hallways without much fuss.

He followed the Santa’s Village display signs until he saw a small pen surrounded by wooden cut-out elves and a large chair which he supposed was where Santa sat for pictures. He’d brought Sammy to a mall a couple times when he was little to sit on Santa’s lap, of course never got a picture, never told Dad about it. Dean’d never believed in the bearded old guy but he pretended to for his little brother. Dean suddenly wondered if there’d been a photo of him and Santa taken at a mall, before the fire. He shook his head, no time to get loopy.

The reindeers were littler than he expected, about the size of a small pony, only with short legs and extra long noses. And antlers, of course. They eyed him curiously as he approached. Dean made quick work of the cheap lock.

“Here boy,” he cooed gently tugging on the cord around the neck of the closest one. The reindeer resisted and stared at Dean with an uncanny bright look in its deep brown eyes.

“I need your help,” he found himself explaining. “Gotta save my brother. C’mon Rudy, be a pal and cooperate.”

As if he understood the reindeer allowed him to lead it back outside to where Cornelius waited impatiently.

“Took you long enough. Give it here …”

The trapper used a little comb to pick through the reindeer’s soft, flat fur and then brushed his hands along the comb’s teeth to release a miniscule amount of white specks into a canteen. Dean wondered where the older man had found the ingredients for the elfnog but he didn’t get to ask because the man’s next words took all rational thought out of his mind.

“Well, it’s done. You got about five minutes. You can make it. But only if you fly.”

The trapper stared at him. “I already done told you, boy. You gotta fly.”

Part 3 here: http://borgmama1of5.livejournal.com/35449.html

Merry Christmas to my Supernatural Friends! (Part One)

Thu, 24 Dec 2009 04:01:40 GMT

Fanfic: Dean Winchester’s Excellent Christmas Adventure

Authors: borgmama1of5 and sandymg

Summary: There has to have been, even in his peculiarly bizarre life, a day where if Dean squinted really hard, it could kind of pass as normal. This was not that day.

Spoilers: None. Set preseries – Christmas 2004

Wordcount: 6,800 – One shot

Genre: Gen, Crack, Christmas, preseries

Characters: Sam, Dean, a Bumble

Rating: PG-13

Disclaimer: We don't own Supernatural or any of its characters. That doesn’t mean we wouldn’t like to…

Dean Winchester’s Excellent Christmas Adventure

He was scraping the ice off the Impala's windshield why couldn't Dad ever find a friggin' case in Florida in December? when he heard it. The roar was low and deep and close. All he had time to do was swing the ice scraper as he turned like a two dollar piece of plastic was gonna do anything to that? No way, there was absolutely no such thing as the Abominable Snowman no matter what his Sasquatch of a brother had said. Special creature. Unique opportunity. For what? To freeze their asses off? And where in hell was Sam, he should have been back by now with his so-called supplies –it’s like catnip for snow monsters – what in hell did that mean?

Razor claws sent the ice scraper bouncing off the side of the pick-up next to him. His fingers, though numb with cold, already had the knife from his belt, but the freakin’ Bigfoot which should not goddamn exist had a good ten inches reach on him. Shit.

Behind him Sam shouted, “Dean. NO! Don’t hurt him. I got it under control.” The whatever-the-hell-it-was stopped at his brother’s voice. Damn if the thing didn't freeze the swing that would have eviscerated him and jerk its hairy body in Sam's direction as Sam spilled unidentifiable dark flakes from the bag he had in his hand. Dean backed slowly away from the creature never taking his eyes off it or his brother. It was approaching the flakes Sam was dropping onto the snow like ET traipsing after Reese’s Pieces.

It dropped to all fours to scoop up the goodies for chrissake it looked like an albino Wookie on its hands and knees and Sam backed up smoothly, keeping the same five feet between it and him until he was at the line of trees at the west end of the parking lot.

“Sam? You’d better have a plan, ’cause I’m not living your Rudolph fantasies and making friends with a Bumble.”

But his brother had moved out of earshot, and dammit he had to follow him into the snowy woods and this was positively the last friggin’ time he was letting Sam research something ‘interesting’. Never wanted to hear that word again as long as he lived.

As Dean followed the creature following Sam he could hear it making a noise that masked the sound of the snow crunching under his boots. It let out a half yodel, half burble that if it hadn't been coming out of a mouth with as many teeth as a shark would have been funny. As it was, not so much. The furball was moving faster, closing the space between it and Sam, and Dean broke into a jog to catch up, ducking to avoid the snow he knocked from the branches that was trying to land down his jacket collar.

When Dean caught sight of the creature again it had moved in front of Sam and was beckoning for Sam to follow. What the hell? Of course, his brother didn’t stop and think that they might be Bumble’s Christmas dinner. No, Sam was tagging after it. All Dean wanted was to hightail it back to the car before it became so frozen they’d need a blowtorch to open the lock.

“Sam, c’mon for chrissakes where are we going?”

“It needs our help.”

Dean figured he wasn’t hearing clearly through the howling wind. “Help with what? Devouring its next meal? Which once it wises up, will be us?!”

“No. Its mate is sick. I can help it.”

“Sam, we’re supposed to gank the monsters, not save ’em!”

“This is different! I already explained …” Sam folded practically in half as he disappeared into a cave mouth. No you didn’t, you just said you found something interesting and could we go… Oh for chrissake …Cussing his brother under his breath, Dean had no choice but to follow him into the dark cave.

He could see just enough by the backwash of Sam’s flashlight to not trip over the rocky floor of the passage. Surprisingly the odor was not as disgusting as he usually encountered in the caves of the nasties, although there was enough of the aroma of decay that it was never gonna be an air freshener scent. More organic, dead plant-like, than the blood-and-rancid-flesh aroma of, say, a Wendigo lair.

The cave was larger than he realized from the outside. And while rank, it was dry and warm … well, warmer. Dean started to feel his toes again inside his boots. Fingers were still pretty numb. Not good should he need to defend himself. And his crazy brother was on some damn All Creatures Great and Small house call. This was like that nearly rabid raccoon Sammy brought home one Christmas when he was barely a teenager. Named him Rocky. Maybe he wasn’t really rabid and just injured. But he sure could poop in the most inconvenient of places.

Man, Dad was livid. Dean and Sammy had to spend hours cleaning everything in the weapons bag. If he thought too long he could still smell the crappy scent. Not the worst holiday they'd had, cleaning those weapons together. By the time Sam hit puberty he'd hated the holidays so when Dean'd started singing goofy Christmas songs just to pass the time quicker he expected a bitchface and a shut up, Dean. Not necessarily in that order. He got the bitchface. But his brother's heart wasn't in it. And it had been Sam's fault after all that they were wiping up raccoon shit on Christmas Eve. Sam’d joined in, off key, voice rising and deepening like Santa's belly on a good laugh. Nah. Wasn't their worst Christmas Eve. Now this one...

It wasn’t just his fingers were frozen, Dean stopped abruptly. Brain cells were obviously frozen too — Sam had said its mate needs help and goddamn mate hadn’t registered until just this minute when the Bumble stopped with Sam between it and another growling mound of fur.

Dean gave a strangled yelp as Sam knelt down between the two monsters.

He fumbled for his pistol but his fingers were tingling so hard they felt like they’d been caught in a magic fingers bed … and Sam had clearly lost his marbles. His brother was kneeling before the second Wookie, and …. Dean blinked, looking into its … privates?

What the--

“Dean, get over here!” Sam suddenly was aware that Dean had both gun and knife ready. “Put those away, you don’t need them!”

“Are you frickin’ insane?” Dean hissed, not moving.

“We need hot water. Clean rags ...”

“Sam, what are you going on about?! Move back and let me the kill the damn things before they realize we’re kibbles!”

“Nobody is shooting anything, Dean.” Sam lowered his voice and made soothing noises at the whimpering monster. “The yeti female is having a baby. Don’t just stand there, start a fire.”

Dean didn’t move. Had these creatures possessed his brother?

“Dean.” Even in the dim light Dean could see the puppy dog eyes peering at him through Sam’s bangs. “I’ve already told you. These creatures aren’t evil. They’re not even carnivorous. And they need our help.”

Dean seized on the blatantly obvious discrepancy in what Sam had just said. “Not carnivorous? Didya notice the teeth, Sam?!”

“Give me some credit. I checked on that. During mating season they turn vegetarian. It’s the circle of life, Dean. This isn’t what we hunt. It’s a different kind of job. Now stop standing there and get a fire going. We have a yeti to help birth.”

Stunned and hoping to hell his brother knew what he was doing, Dean started gathering some sticks to make a small fire. Fine, so maybe they wouldn’t be this year’s Christmas goose but what was the point of this? Why did Mama Thing need their help? Was it talking to Sam? Was this some long dormant talent of his freakishly smart brother? He’d learned to communicate with animals like Doctor freakin’ Doolittle? Had the raccoon spoken with him, too?

A deafening roar shook Dean like snow through a blower. His brother was kneeling by the creature’s mammoth head, petting its cheek like one would a small dog. Except next to this thing his humungous brother looked about the size of a small dog himself.

“Sam. What is this? What are we doing?”

Sam looked up at him, and then back to the female yeti. “Dean, we have to do this. Help her, help them.”

“Why?” Dean asked, his voice rising at the craziness of even having to ask this.

“To save Christmas.”

His brother had lost his freakin’ mind. That’s all there was to it. Dean was going to have to drag him out of here whether Sam wanted to come or not. Neither of the creatures were paying any attention to him and the commotion the female was making had both the male’s and Sam’s rapt attention. Dean slid his knife back in its sheath, and debated whether to keep the gun in his hand for protection or have both hands free to deal with Sam. All things considered, Dean figured getting Sam to budge was going to be the bigger problem so he tucked the pistol back in his waistband and quietly moved closer to Sam and the … things. Although being silent was superfluous now as the female was uttering an ear-piercing wail while rocking back and forth.

Another step closer to Sam while keeping his eyes fixed on the monsters and Dean was close enough to see over his brother’s shoulder … and see what he really, really did not want to be looking at. He was not seeing a baby yeti head coming out of …

“Dean! I need a cloth now! And the water!”

This was just not friggin’ happening. Sam’s pack was by Dean’s feet and he pulled out some cloths they kept for emergencies. They weren’t sterile but did it really friggin’ matter? He grabbed the canteen, too, and seriously questioning his sanity moved over to Sam and the yetis.

Sam looked calmer than anyone with his head near … that … could possibly be. “This could take a while. We need to find a way to sooth her while the contractions come. You should sing.”

“Wh .. at?”

“You’re a good singer. Nice and loud. Should sound good in this cave.”

The creature bellowed again and Sam said, “Now Dean. It’ll help. I know. C’mon … We wish you a Merry Christmas … We wish you a Merry Christmas …”

“You want me to sing Christmas carols?!”

Why was Sam looking at him like he was the one who was out of his mind? “Dean. We’re saving Christmas.”

Dean eyed the male yeti who was staring at him mighty hungrily for an alleged vegetarian. “Sammy?”

“Yeah?”

“Are you high?”

“Dean, you know I don’t do that crap. Dad would have a cow.”

True. But it’s not like it never happened. Last Christmas, his straight-A little brother had shocked the heck out of him.

Dean, didja ever, you know, try pot?

What?!

Was wonderin’ is all.

Where’s this comin’ from Sam. Somebody gave you some?

Looking sheepish Sam had pulled out a couple of joints. I thought if I were to try it, it would be okay if it were with you.

If Dad knew he never said. But man, they’d gone through four pizzas in an hour. And Dean had done some singing that night, too, but real songs, Zeppelin and Metallica, not this Hallmark shit. Dean had thought his brother never smoked again. Now, he wasn’t so sure any more.

Back to the world’s strangest manger … At least Sam let him stand at the other end of the female not the business end thank you as Dean bellowed out holiday songs — Jingle Bells, Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer, Silent Night, even the freakin’ Dreidel song -- whatever worked, he knew at best half the lyrics of all of ’em, but it was enough. He remembered his brother in a handful of Christmas pageants in grade school, kid never could sing.

The fourth time through Rudolph, Dean thought, this is so wrong and then he realized the mother-to-be was moaning in time to his singing. Which was actually wronger.

“Sam. How much longer?”

“Don’t stop singing. She’s progressing really well.”

“Mind explainin’ to me how a baby Bumble is gonna save Christmas?”

“I already did, it’s the circle of life.”

Sam was massaging the female’s enlarged belly. His normally large hand looked like a tiny speck buried within her mammoth furry frame.

“The Circle of Life is a Disney song, Sam. These things have enough teeth to eat an elephant.” At Sam’s immediate frown, Dean continued. “I know, vegan diet, but seriously, what the hell are we doing here? This is a special job, according to you. So fine, I’ll accept that. But it’s Christmas Eve for pity’s sake. I’m not saying let’s turn into the Waltons, but would it be so awful to be somewhere dry and warm, maybe sippin’ eggnog?” Generously spiked. “At this rate Dad’ll be back and we won’t be there.” Near the motel. Short excursion. Something interesting. Last time he’ll listen to Sam having one of his research-driven epiphanies. And, dammit, they were missing all the good Christmas specials on T.V.

The creature wailed plaintively. Dean felt a touch of pity. The father was looking at his mate, eyes the size of a frickin’ flying saucer. The Wookie looked … worried. What the hell? He was not going all warm and fuzzy with this!

“Sam, Christmas will come tomorrow whether or not this yeti has her Ewok.”

“No. It won’t, Dean. I’ve been trying to explain. I researched. These are special beings. They’ve lived among us a long time. They are the last of their kind. Their power is more ancient, deeper than anything we’ve ever come across. It’s linked to the Earth itself.”

“Sam, what are you saying?”

“If this yeti baby isn’t born, healthy, tonight … there won’t be a tomorrow.”

“Come again?”

“What I said, bro, save the yeti, save the world.”

There was no warning.

Part 2 here:
http://borgmama1of5.livejournal.com/35171.html

Part 3 here:
http://borgmama1of5.livejournal.com/35449.html

SPN Story Rec

Tue, 22 Dec 2009 04:50:32 GMT

To all my SPN friends--

I have friended all of you since September when I first discovered SPN fanfic and found your writing to be amazing.

Now I am going to urge you to give this a try:

The Road to Detroit is Paved with Hell

http://sandymg.livejournal.com/9092.html?style=mine#cutid1

Summary of 2009?

Wed, 16 Dec 2009 19:43:51 GMT

Thought I'd try this meme as an experiment--
My LJ tells the truth about my year 2009; write down the first sentence of the first post for each month.

My conclusion: I was obviously on another planet in March, July, and August. Wish I could remember where...hope it was fun.
A side observation, when I discovered Supernatural and its fanfic world in August my LJ useage about quadrupled :)

January
So I decided to take yesterday (Sunday) off from life and stay in bed except for the necessities (like donuts.)

February
Realized I haven't posted anything for a while.

March
---

April
I haven't posted anything for a very long time.

May
Names have been changed to protect the innocent(?)

June
So, at the end of 3 weeks on the new job I scheduled myself to take the 'on-call' for the weekend.

July
---

August
---

September
So being out of work for a month, and waiting for unemployment to kick in (whole 'nuther story), I decided to sell my Barbie doll collection.

October
Just watched the most recent episode so I am UP-TO-DATE on my obsession at last!

November
Friday morning a dear friend stopped by to visit as I convalesced.

December
Probably of interest to my Supernatural friends only...
(Just about every post from mid-November onhas this caveat...)

One of Those Little Things...

Fri, 11 Dec 2009 19:44:51 GMT

Thinking I should frame this email I got from my 20-year-old today:

Thank you for raising me to be a competent human being. I spent the first hour and a half at work this morning cleaning up the other girl's messes from yesterday- sorting out orders, following up on things, fixing her mistakes...

What is the World Coming to (in a Good Way)

Wed, 09 Dec 2009 14:53:39 GMT

So 6 weeks ago I had some minor foot surgery and have been walking around with one of those protective boot things on my left foot since then.

Last week the doctor finally reduced the bandaging to where I can put on a regular sock, but not quite fit my toes in my regular shoes. So with complete disregard for fashion ethics I spent last week wearing socks with sandals.

Monday it snowed. Socks plus sandals plus snow equals major fail. I spent the day with cold soggy feet and moaned about it to everyone who would listen. I whined to my husband on my lunch hour and he said:

"On your way home stop at a shoe store and buy a pair of shoes you can wear even if it's only for now."

Husband telling wife to go buy shoes--epic win!

(Husband got extra hug when I modeled my new shoes.)

SPN Fic: Menage a Trois

Mon, 07 Dec 2009 03:37:21 GMT

Title: Menage a Trois
Author: Borgmama 1of5
Word Count: 1810
Rating: R
Characters: Dean/OFC, Sam
Spoilers: None
Season: Could be anytime, probably earlier tho
Warning: Bad words and sex, not too graphic
Beta: Thanks to sandymg

MENAGE A TROIS

Dean’s hands were tied to the brass headboard. He was naked. And the tongue forcing itself into his mouth was his.

***

A few hours earlier…

It was just creepy.

Bunch of dead guys, one every full moon, but not a werewolf, the bodies didn’t have a mark on ‘em. Nothing wrong with them at all, except they were dead. And naked. And, the creepy part they’d found out by visiting the morgue -- all of them had sex right before dying. Medical examiner was writing it off as heart attacks.

The dead dudes were all under 35. Freakin’ epidemic of drop-dead sex. Yeah.

As for what it was, Sam offered a couple guesses, succubus top on the list. Or a witch, or a demon, or hell, could even be a ghost. Sam thought he had at least figured out the starting point of the action.

Yuppie bar, he labeled it.

Dean didn’t really care that he stood out like the proverbial sore thumb, figured he might get the info they were looking for faster if somebody wanted to get him out of there. Sam was going native. Dean looked at his brother‘s khaki slacks and black button-down and said, “Dude, I don’t even wanna know why you have those clothes.”

That got him the bitchface.

Place didn’t even have a decent beer and it cost twice as much as it should of. And the music? Puh-leeze. Although the girls were all lookers. Their dresses were short and tight and low-cut. He was getting some interested glances, too. Might as well collect a number or two while he was here … you never know…

Spiky blonde hair on a cute little five-foot tall number slid up to the bar next to him.

Well, five-foot tall plus five inch stripper-bar heels.

“Jake, I’ll have another.” As the bartender nodded to her, Dean caught her eye and winked. “My treat.” Cool dark eyes, sultry smile, and amazing cleavage.

“I’d say ‘come here often?’ but I know I’ve never seen you in here before. I’d remember that coat.” Her chin indicated his battle-scarred leather jacket.

Jake handed the girl her drink, Dean gave him a couple bills. ”Not my normal haunt.” Did her eyes narrow the tiniest bit at his choice of words? “Heard this place has a lot of action.”

Dean was used to being on the receiving end of an appreciative once-over. But the satisfied look that accompanied her gaze felt decidedly predatory. Ha, his Spidey-sense was tingling. She tipped back her glass, set it back on the bar, and took his hand. “You have nice fingers.” She traced his lifeline with one sharp shiny pink nail.

Dean figured his brother had him in view. He knew Sam had his back … it would take both of them to take out a succubus. He had holy water, iron knife, and silver bullets in his gun, for anything else it might be, and Sam had reckoned that covered all likely possibilities. So Dean stayed focused on the tantalizing creature before him.

Dean bent down to hear what she was saying. “…stairs with me?” She rubbed purposefully against his thigh and the pink fingernail pressed a little harder on his palm. Hard enough to draw a tiny drop of blood. Oh yes. She locked her fingers with his and tugged, and he followed her to a shadowed corner. There was a key on the chain around her neck, which she smoothly slid over her head to unlock a partially hidden door. Dean was pretty sure it was unnoticeable from the rest of the bar and he hoped again that Sam was watching where the blonde was taking him. On the other hand, he had a hard-on and maybe she was just a hot chick. Wouldn’t be the first time he was found irresistible

A single low-watt light bulb illuminated the shabby stairwell. The girl was still holding his right hand as she pushed open the door at the bottom. Alarm bells went off in his head at the sight of a four-poster plushly made-up bed in the middle of a dank basement room. The floor around the bed was painted with symbols and beside it a table an altar flickered with candles. Shit.

“Maneo!”

Dean couldn’t move. The sultry smile turned ugly as she let go of his hand. “Another prick who thinks he’s god’s gift to women.” She paused with a look of eerie anticipation, “Well, you will be…”

Under other circumstances Dean would have appreciated the show as she stripped naked. Instead he was urgently trying to figure what exactly she was. The marks on the floor and the Latin were telling him witch … He hated witches. And he didn’t understand her game …

She’d gotten something from the altar and was back standing before him. With an abrupt move she unbuttoned and pulled down his jeans. Her touch burned as she slid her fingers around him. Uh.

“I promise the foreplay’d be better if I could reciprocate …”

She actually giggled. “Believe me, you’re gonna give me everything I want.” She began chanting. Dean knew this was not going anywhere good.

Goddamn, where was Sam?

From the intensity of her chant the bitch was getting to the climax … bad choice of words, smirked a corner of Dean’s mind. Suddenly there was a knife in her free hand and oh my fucking god she brought the blade toward his groin. HE COULDN’T MOVE! She was aiming straight for his package and damn! she made a shallow cut through his pubic hair then slashed her own palm and smeared her hand with his blood and the door burst open …

They’d been standing right in front of the entrance and Dean was knocked sideways but the girl twisted away with her knife hand up, still chanting, slashing at Sam. Dean saw blood on Sam’s arm, watched Sam try to get the knife from her as she was leaving bloody handprints on his brother, and she never stopped her words.

“Transtuli!”

Everything went black.

***

His own face was leering down at him. His hands were on his … boobs?! Hunter’s instincts, long honed to adapt quickly to changes in circumstances, couldn’t process this: him, naked looming above him naked and … female? With a tiny bit of hysteria Dean thought, so this is how you go fuck yourself.

Male him was certainly doing all the right moves and female him was fuckin’ reacting … His hands, no they weren’t his hands right now, were pinching his … her? nipples and it stung and it simultaneously made this body squirm. Where the hell was Sam? Dean tugged against the cloth binding his wrists to the brass posts, trying to see where his brother was. If he was hurt … she’d had the knife … But he could see Sam standing on the other side of the footboard. He was not moving, just staring as he watched Dean fuck. Only Sam wouldn’t know that Dean was currently the fuckee, not the fucker.

A tremor ran down his legs as the bitch … that wasn’t him, was not him put her fingers down there and rubbed. Guh … sensory overload stopped his thoughts momentarily. This is what it felt like … When he could think again he should be taking notes crossed his mind. ‘On top’ him laughed and, straddling the slender hips of the female body, bent down and teased his tongue into ‘her’ mouth again.

What was wrong with Sam? Dean struggled but there was nothing this petite body could do against his own strength. And this body didn’t necessarily want to fight what it was feeling. ‘He’ was in ‘him’ now Oh my God so that’s what it feels like and there was nothing he could do but react as his nervous system exploded. She ‘him’ was coming. He ‘him’ was coming, too, Dean knew the growl coming from that throat intimately. Everything was fusing into one unbearable pulse and so this is how those other guys died flashed through his mind and as Dean was passing out for the last time he saw Sam jump from the foot of the bed … and everything went black again.

***

“Dean. Dean.” Someone — Sam — was pulling on his arm. “C’mon, we gotta get out of here. Dean!”

He wanted to go back to the nice friendly black and then his mind clicked and Dean’s eyes flew open and thank god he had all his man parts.

“C’mon, Dean!” Sam shoved clothes at him. Dean’s thoughts were trying to form coherence out of the viscous sludge in his brain but it wasn’t working so he simply fumbled himself back into the clothes he didn’t remember removing.

The witch…

“Where is she?” His lips felt thick like he’d been passionately kissing and not going there right now …

“She, um, got wasted when I trashed the altar at the ... climax,” Sam stumbled over the word. Sam nodded toward the bed. The naked remains bore no resemblance to the chick who’d lured Dean there. “We’ve gotta go.”

“The body…”

“We can come back and do a salt-and-burn tomorrow when the bar’s closed. I’m pretty sure this was her private space.”

Sam sounded … strained. Dean actually looked at his brother and registered Sam’s hunched shoulders and the blood on his arm. “You okay?”

“Yeah.” Like Sam’d say otherwise. Dean would ask again when they got back to the room and get a straight answer. No one noticed them return to the bar from the hidden door and they cut out the back entrance, although Sam was still moving awkwardly and Dean’s legs, actually all of him, felt rather rubbery. Dean slid gratefully into the normalcy of the Impala.

He sat in the driver’s seat without turning the ignition. Buying time to get his shaking hands under control, he asked, without turning, “What the hell happened, Sam?”

“She was using a spell to transfer life force during sex, switching bodies so hers would get all the energy. Power thing. Kills the guy, though.”

“Huh.” New meaning to ‘killer sex.’ Flashback to the moment right before … Dean looked at Sam. “Why were you just waiting there?”

Sam looked away uneasily. “I was caught in the backlash of the spell. It wasn’t meant to involve three people.”

“No ménage a trois.” Dean snorted. “Her magic, you said it swapped bodies, so you know that ‘me’ wasn’t me, right, Sam?”

Sam curled himself into a tight ball in the shotgun seat. “That’s why I couldn’t move till the … end … when the spell pulled her back into her own body. During everything … she was partly in your body and partly in mine.”

Then he added in a voice Dean could barely hear, “And so was I.”

Happy Dancing!

Sat, 05 Dec 2009 20:12:59 GMT

(Icon created by mysticwaters)

So I have been beta'ing the story sandymg is writing and I am delirious with anticipation of where she's going!

This is the first time I've ever done a beta--I'm so new in this whole Supernatural/LJ world--and I am having SO MUCH FUN--way more than a woman my age should be having with guys young enough to be my kids...

AND I DON'T MEAN LIKE THAT--we're whumping them!

She's at Chapter 10 and going strong and I don't think she's gonna start posting until it's done or people would hate her (I have sent her some very agitated emails about where she ends the chapters she sends me) but when she's done I think it will fill the hiatus break perfectly.

Just couldn't contain myself after what she sent last night!

Happy Thanksgiving and a Shameless Plug

Thu, 26 Nov 2009 17:43:16 GMT

I am taking the liberty positng this everywhere I can because this is potentially a big breakthrough for mydaughter's Sarah's band "Mustang Sally!"

I am copying the email Sarah wrote to me. The upshot is, the band's single is the "new band free download of the week" and what happens to the band next hinges on how many people download the song. So if you can download it AND pass the info along--let's see if we can get this viral web promotion to work!

THANK YOU!
Betty

Hi everybody,

Pardon a moment of shameless self-promotion, but... Mustang Sally is
appearing in the Dec. 7th issue of Country Weekly Magazine, which is
available in stores and newsstands now! We're very excited about this,
as it is our first appearance in a national magazine.

Part of what Country Weekly is offering is a free download of our single, "C'Mon
DJ", from their website. http://www.countryweekly.com/freemusic
We are asking everyone to please download our song, because if we can
show Country Weekly that our fans are wonderful, brilliant, and most
importantly numerous, they will do a feature article on us sometime in
the spring.

Our song will only be available to download until Dec.14th, so act quickly,
please and thank you. And really, we're asking
you to get something for free while looking at a picture of pretty
girls. What's not to love?

And while you are recovering from your fabulous Thanksgiving dinner
and procrastinating about doing the dishes, take a moment and check
out our music video on YouTube- www.youtube.com/mustangsallyband -
again, the more folks who watch it, the quicker the powers that be at
CMT will perk up their ears and pay attention.

Thank you for giving us a moment of your Thanksgiving day. Have a
beautiful holiday, and may all your turkeys be tender and juicy.

Much love,
Sarah and the Mustang Sally crew

Something Fun

Wed, 25 Nov 2009 16:59:19 GMT

A meme from another LJ friend--pass it along!

1. My username is ______ because ______.
"Borgmama1of5" because plain 'borgmama' was already taken--I have been a Star Trek fan since I was 11 years old and, when my girls were younger, our family operated like the Borg collective. There are 5 of us, and well, I am #1...

2. My name is _____ because ______.
"Betty" because my parents named me Elizabeth. On the day I was born my mom wrote "Elizabeth Sue was born" in her journal. The next day she wrote 'Betty.' Why I was named Elizabeth I don't know. I do remember her telling me she didn't like the nickname Liz, though.

3. My journal is titled ____ because ____.
"Life" because I wasn't feeling terribly creative when I picked it.

4. My friends page is called ____ because ____.
Um, I don't think my friends page has a name...I'm still proud of myself for figuring out how to put a post under a cut.

5. My default userpic is ____ because ____.
Now there is a nifty story! I have been a Barbie lover since I was little, and I used to have a large collection of dolls that I kept in their boxes and displayed. A few years ago I stumbled across the website of a fabulous woman who 'remakes' Barbies--what she does is exquisite, here is her site, http://www.dolls-n-daggers.com/Dolls/OOAK_latest.php go look!--and told my family about it. For my 50th birthday my big sister ordered a custom doll for me, based on a painting of me in a LARP costume. So my userpic is actually a picture of me as a Barbie doll.

And if you want to know about my LARPing days, just ask :)

And Happy Thanksgiving, everyone!

My Thoughts on "Abandon All Hope"

Fri, 20 Nov 2009 18:12:38 GMT

I think I must have been watching a slightly different episode than the rest of the fandom--"Abandon all Hope" is getting 'best episode so far' raves from just about everyone and it didn't go that far for me.

The beginning felt rushed, like there wasn't enough time in one episode to do a complete set up...okay, time constraints I understand.

But where did Jo come from all of a sudden to help them get into Crowley's lair?

How could the boys have messed up the devil's trap on the back of the rug? They're better than that...I thought it was a set-up on their part, but instead Crowley had them completely at his mercy. Sam and Dean don't make stupid mistakes like that. I thought maybe Jo would come in the back and take out the demons holding the boys. Okay, it makes Crowley a very intriguing demon, that he let the boys go but still, the 'capture' just wasn't up to Winchester standards.

The joke Dean made while he and Sam were getting ready to go after Lucifer (I wish I had the exact quote) about Sam being so good at trusting demons--to me that was an telling line about where the brothers' relationship is now. That Dean could JOKE about last season and that Sam took it as a snark without getting upset says volumes to me. I wish we would have seen more of the 'getting good with each other again' process, but we'll just have to take the tidbits Kripke gave us. (And read the fanfic for the rest of the details.)

Moments that show Dean has matured--when Sam want to go after Lucifer with Dean, Dean acquiesces. And likewise, later, when Jo is going to sacrifice herself, Dean doesn't try to talk her out of it. He saw the reality that she was right--and Jensen Ackles (OMG he kills me) showed how much he hated knowing that--and added Jo to the list he carries of people he couldn't save.

Jo and Ellen's ending was heartbreakingly magnificent, made perfect by the fact that Sam and Dean accepted their choice without trying to talk them out of it. They acknowledged the Harvelles' right to be heroes, and that was the high point of the show for me.

Castiel was awesome, and clearly hanging around Dean Winchester has been a bad (good?) influence on him.

Dean/Sam/Lucifer smackdown--When Dean shoots, Lucifer falls, and neither brother knows what to do next--it was actually funny, their disorientation at having succeeded--at least until Lucifer got back up...

Jared Padalecki's tortured grimaces during Lucifer's pitch to Sam unfortunately pulled me out of the moment. I wish that hadn't been the case, but it did ruin my connection with the scene. Ackles can do so much with the tiniest facial movements. Padalecki's not quite there yet.

And I missed Sam being concerned about Dean after Lucifer threw Dean into a tree. Not even a "Dean!"?

Sam will say yes in 6 months in Detroit? And how many months till the season finale? Oh, Kripke is evil...

It's kind of a good thing that there won't be a new episode till January, at least from my family's perspective...

Woot! I got in to the SPN Con in Chicago!

Tue, 17 Nov 2009 00:28:28 GMT

So I needed some time to digest my experience before writing about it.

Background (which some people already know)--
In August, thanks to Erica, I discovered and became obsessed with the tv show "Supernatural." At that time I discovered, to my glee, that there was going to be a Supernatural Convention in Chicago this past weekend. Then I discovered to my dismay that all the tickets, including general admission, for Sunday when the two main actors were coming, were already sold out.

So I pouted until Saturday, periodically checking the website just in case tickets would magically be available. Which they never were. However, Saturday I noticed a small line, new, that any still available tickets would be sold at the door. Clearly tickets were still available for Saturday. Sunday was still listed as sold out.

And at 10 pm Saturday night I decided what did I have to lose besides some sleep. I would go to the hotel early in the morning, stand in line, and see if I could get lucky. I completely did not expect success, BUT if I didn't try, I'd never know if I could've gotten in.

My long-suffering spouse drove me to Rosemont, fortunately very close, at 8 am Sunday morning. I wondered around, asking if anyone knew about tickets, and eventually was told to stand in the check-in line and talk to the staff in the next room when the doors opened.

As I waited in line, I struck up a conversation with a nifty lady who was sympathetic to my plight, and we shared our fandom-geekiness. Making a new friend alone was worth getting up at 8 am.

Then the doors opened, the line moved, I got in to the check-in table, and...

TICKETS WERE STILL AVAILABLE!

And, to be perfectly honest, the fact that my faith in the universe being good panned out was the best part of the experience.

Never having been to a tv show con, I didn't know what to expect. The answer: not much. From 9 am till noon all the people who bought pricey tickets to get photographed with the stars got that done. Not having one, I wandered around. Sadly the photo room was arranged so that even walking past the door repeatedly did not provide a glimpse of the actors. Sigh. A once-over of the vendors' room took 45 minutes looking at every table 3 times in case I missed something. Fortunately I then ran into my new friend from waiting in line, and after she had her photo op she suggested we get something to eat.

That was a lot of fun, I got to be obsessive about the show with someone who didn't roll their eyes at me after 5 minutes *cough, my family, cough* and who was as into analyzing the details as I am. Also halfway through breakfast Erica joined me, dropped off by my saintly spouse so that I'd have someone to share the experience with. (Awful person that I am, I insisted she stop working on her term paper at home and use the second ticket I bought. After all, she is the one who brought the Supernatural dvds into the house.)

Finally we were allowed to take our seats in the ballroom for the Q & A with Jensen Ackles and Jared Padelacki. We snagged seats in the second to last row. Sadly from there we couldn't really see them in their chairs on stage, instead we had to watch the big video screen. Thank goodness it was there, and gave a decent image, but it felt the same as watching them on tv, not like in person.

It was still fun, though, to hear their answers to the fan questions firsthand, and to see how they interact as themselves. All reports are that the two guys are great friends, and from the good-natured ribbing between them, that is clearly the case.

Part of why I wanted to see them so badly was to glimpse what the actors are like in comparision to the characters they have portrayed for nearly 5 years, and I did feel satisfied that I got a little of that. It was also very clear that they appreciate their fans, in a somewhat "I don't get why they're doing this but it's really amazing that they do" kind of way. There was a definite of "we're just normal guys, not celebrities" quality to both of them, along with "this is crazy and we might as well just enjoy it while it lasts."

I appreciated that nearly all of the audience questions were intelligent ones, and Jensen and Jared tried to give thought-out answers.

Of course the actual panel is all jumbled together in my head, but highlights that are sticking with me (totally not in any order) include:

Jared, joking, starting things off by asking the audience to please ask some questions for Jensen, because Jared has to work with him tomorrow. There was a playful competition between them about whose name was said first by the questioner.

Jared enthusiastically talking about the mythic arc and the archetypes of the characters, after explaining that his mother was a teacher (as the reason why he knew this stuff.) I found it interesting that Jared came across a bit like the 'geeky' brother he plays...

Jensen's thoughts on why Lucifer had to be a sympathetic character to lure people into doing the wrong thing: because if he just (rubbed his hands) said "Come do this, it's evil!" no one would ever fall for it.

Jensen on how he is similiar to and different from Dean Winchester: they share a sense of humor, but Dean has a lot more anger than Jensen.

Jared, asked the same question about Sam Winchester, gave an interesting answer, saying that Sam always thought he was doing the 'right thing'--even when he was doing things like drinking demon blood he thought he was doing it for a good reason. Jared said he likes to think he does things for good reasons too.

Halfway through the hour Jared started complaining that he was so hot he was sweating, and asked if there was a towel or some ice he could have. Someone handed up a square-shaped box of pastel green tissues and he stuck it down the front of his plaid shirt and proceeded to pull tissues out of the neckline to wipe his face. Much laughter ensued, which he and Jensen played to, with Jensen even reaching over to pull a tissue out of the front of Jared's shirt for himself.

Jensen then proceeded to relate that Jared sweats more than anyone else he knows, and told how during the filming of a scene where they were talking face-to-face Jared was sweating so much that Jensen grabbed the makeup towel and they'd say some lines, Jensen'd say 'pause' and wipe Jared's neck, put the towel back behind himself, and they'd resume where they left off.

One fan asked about the telephone call in the last episode of season 4, when Sam 'got the wrong message.' Amusingly, Jared and Jensen didn't know what the question was referring to and the audience had to explain it to them: how the message Dean left for Sam saying Sam was still his brother was not the message Sam got on his voicemail--he heard Dean calling him a monster and disowning him. Jared finally got it and said they had no idea whatever happened with that. Jensen kept saying it was all in Sam's head, though it sounded like he still wasn't really sure of what phone call was being talked about. Both of them wanted to blame Zachariah for it, though, not thinking Ruby or Lucifer could have mucked with it as well...

Most bizarre question: a fan listed several presents that Jensen reportedly gave Jared (a watch, a Gameboy, and a third item I don't remember) and then asked Jensen what presnts Jared has given him. Wonder if anyone else thought that was sort of stalker-creepy that she knew these details...Jensen seemed perplexed by this one, said Jared had given him a watch too, and then Jared jumped in with "a lacy negligee" which set the crowd off. Then Jensen explained that it was hard to buy him presents because if he wanted something he would just go buy it, which left his mother giving him socks for Christmas...again the crowd found this funny, as he intended.

Both actors talked about the late Kim Manners being a big influence on them; about never knowing where the writers were going to take things and not really worrying about it; really enjoying the caliber of guest stars and re-occuring actors they get to work with; and Jensen talked about the challenge of playing 2 versions of himself in episode 5.04. Jared said he met with Kripke about how to portray the devil.

Another funny was Jensen describing how Jared always cleans Jensen's plate if he doesn't finish everything when they go out to eat, and cleaning up everyone else's leftovers as well so that when the waitress comes Jared has all the plates sitting empty in front of him...

Another questioner asked what non-career dreams they wanted to achieve. Jensen said he wanted to have kids, which got a big "Awwww!" from the audience, and Jared instantly said, "I want to have kids too!" which got a laugh. Jensen then came up with wanting to do something involving jumping from a plane in a special suit that eliminates using a parachute, and Jared smirked about throwing the kids from the plane. Jensen retorted that's why Jared shouldn't have kids--Jared said he meant he'd throw Jensen's kids--and Jensen said Jared was never babysitting for him!

When asked about future roles when Supernatural is done, I though it reflected on their matter-of-factness that Jensen's answer was along the lines of "given the level of actors we are...," which sounded like being surrounded by a roomful of obsessive fans was not deluding them into thinking they were big stars who would have projects thrown at them. Both of them talked about acting being a craft, that being a celebrity and being an actor were different things (and they clearly preferred to be considered actors.) Jared quoted another actor's rules: "know your friggin' lines, hit your friggin' mark," and two other basic 'friggin' things to do.

Jared said the hardest thing for him to do is comedy; Jensen said it is the big emotional scenes, explaining that those scenes really take it out of him because "your body doesn't know you were acting," it is as drained as if the experience really happened.

Asked about the accomplishments they are proudest of in their work on Supernatural, Jared didn't have a specific moment but was happy about how he's grown as an actor. Jensen, after some thought, cited the scene in "All Hell Breaks Loose 2" when he had to talk to Sam lying dead. He said he talked to the director, Kim Manners, about not being able to do the scene multiple times because it was too draining, and Kim was fantastic, setting the scene up behind screening, reducing the crew, and setting the cameras up to minimize number of takes.

My personal favorite moment of the panel came when a questioner started by saying, "Please don't laugh at my question..." and Jared and Jensen instantly began fake laughing...stopped at the same time and then SIMULTANEOUSLY sighed "Ahhh" to catch their breath which set them off laughing for real. It was a moment like Sam and Dean are scripted in the show of saying things at the same time, and it was really neat to see they do it in real-life too. When they finally got to the question it was actually a decent one and Jared said so, adding, "I thought it was going to be a question like who farts louder" and Jensen broadly pointed at Jared, setting off more laughter.

One moment during the Q & A struck me as weird, when they were asked if they had to write each other's ad on match.com, what would they write--a sort of strange question, made odder by Jared's quick answer that he'd write "desparate" for Jensen's ad. Made me wince, given that Jensen just got engaged this week...Jensen had a decent comeback, however--Jared's ad would would say "SWF--single white female" to which Jared promptly added, "with flowing locks" and he flicked his hair.

Their favorite episode to shoot? "Changing Channels" which aired 2 weeks ago. They had a lot of fun filming it.

Asked what sightseeing was like in Vancouver (someone must be planning on vacationing at the Vancouver con next year) both Jared and Jensen said the aquarium, Stanley Park, and the seawall were must-sees, and that there are lots of great restaurants to choose from.

Throughout the hour both actors clearly appreciated their fans. It made me happy to see that they seemed like genuinely nice people, and were conscious that a lot of people involved with the show contributed to making them look good.

When the hour was over, Jared said he had something else to talk about before he left. His mother's students are trying to participate in some type of academic contest (he gave details but I didn't get them) and they need to raise money for the travel expenses, so he was going to auction off the watch Sam Winchester wore in season 3. He took it off his wrist, and someone in the audience yelled "$500!" Jared was told by the organizer to go ahead and do the auction now, at which point he seemed clueless as to how to do that. Jensen came to the rescue, grabbing a mike and doing a spot-on auctioneer call, narrowing the bidding down to two people in the front and finally getting a winning bid of $3500 for a watch that Jared had pointed out didn't work "but had his sweat on it." Wow. I was much too far away to really see Jared's reaction, but I don't think he was expecting that much!

Then it was over for me...the boys were hustled away to sign autographs for those who had purchased those tickets...

I could have stayed for a 4 pm panel with one of the guest stars--mind blanking on who it was--but Erica had to get home to work on her term paper, and I couldn't ask my husband to drive there and back another time...

Was it worth it? Yes...probably part of human hard-wiring to want to see what stars are 'really' like, and Jared and Jensen seemed down-to-earth and funny, as I wanted them to be. It was just a little disappointing that I never got close enough to really see their faces. Okay, I'll be shallow...I wanted to see if they are as pretty in real-life as they are on tv.

So next year--the con is already scheduled for October 2010--I am buying a closer seat and an autograph ticket as soon as they go on sale!

And the other thing that was part of the best part: making a friend who is in the LJ community! I am looking forward to keeping in contact with her! In fact, one of the best things about my entire Supernatural obesseion has been connecting kindred spirits online. It's a new experience for me, and it makes me happy.

So that's my report on my first-ever Supernatural Convention in Chicago, November 15, 2009.

What Makes Me Happy

Wed, 11 Nov 2009 17:07:23 GMT

When my kid calls me up exhilarated because she made a breakthrough connecting with one of her students, and she animatedly analyzes how she did it.

I love that all my girls share my passion for making a difference in other peoples' lives, that they delight in figuring out what works, and that they get excited about making connections!

Supernatural Fandom Thoughts

Wed, 04 Nov 2009 05:11:27 GMT

Thought Number 1--

It occurred to me tonight that those in the fandom who read the fanfic stories have a different experience than those who just watch the show.

In the half-dozen or so episodes that show the Winchester boys' childhood and the interactions with their dad when they are adults, Kripke has written sketches to show the audience the primary type of family relationship--John is hard, Dean is Sam's protector, Sam is the rebel--and also clearly shows how bonded they all are to each other.

What the really good fanfic does is take those sketches and fill in specifics, both pre-show and between episodes, that investigate the nuances to the relationships. What is interesting to me is, that after an intense immersion in fanfic in a short time period, I find that the basic interpretation of the family dynamics is pretty darn close between the different authors. Differences in the details, but one can (okay, I did) print out stories from a variety of writers, put them in time sequence, and they mesh pretty fluidly with each other and with the show.

So that, when I watch the season 5 episodes now, I have a really deep backstory to put the episode in context.

It is quite possible that everyone else already knew this and is going 'duh,' but hey, I just figured it out.

And now, for my spoiler-y thought on season 5

First we meet the Anti-Christ little boy Jesse, get enough time to bond with him, and he disappears.
Then we meet the man-witch Patrick, who, contrary to the way the 'monster of the week' is treated, is allowed to go along his merry way.

Two new characters in 2 weeks, both fleshed out a bit, and both with 'what happened to them' left open.
Not too hard to think Jesse might show up again at a pivotal point in the battle between the angels and demons.

But what about Patrick? His being left alive was so atypical, I wonder if he might have a part to play in the Apocalypse too? Maybe Kripke left his fate dangling for a reason?

Did anyone else think something like this?

And on a different note, that Dean/Bobby scene at the end of 5.07 was to so set up Bobby's death--I will stake money on that one. Unfortunately.

Why My Obsession with Supernatural is Not Totally Lame

Sun, 01 Nov 2009 19:30:05 GMT

Friday morning a dear friend stopped by to visit as I convalesced. She was very upset because she had just been informed by one of her daughter's high school peers that her daughter was smoking--and her daughter has serious asthma.

My friend wanted to talk out how to broach the subject with her daughter, and was leaning towards asking directly "Are you smoking?"

My mind went to the episode in season 4 where Dean asks Sam straight out if he was using his demon powers and Sam flat-out lied and said no. I realized that was the start of the breakdown of their relationship. Dean wanted to hear 'no' and didn't press, and once Sam lied he couldn't come back later and admit he'd lied then, and the untruths piled up from that point.

So I counseled my friend to NOT ask a question that her daughter could lie to. I suggested she state that she found out that her daughter has been smoking and continue with "I am really concerned about this," and not to let the conversation get sidetracked into how did she find out.

My friend grasped the difference in the approach as I explained what happened between Sam and Dean,(she has never watched the show, but has PATIENTLY listened to me obsess for the last 3 months...she is really a good friend!) and is going to try what I suggested and let me know how it turns out.

So I stick my tongue out at my family members who think I've lost it. :P

Weird but Good

Thu, 29 Oct 2009 04:21:35 GMT

When I went to the doctor for the followup visit for my toe surgery, he said when he cut it open there was a lot of fluid that came out and I must have been in a lot of pain.

Um, no, never bothered me at all except for the fact that every pair of shoes gave me a blister on the toe knuckle that was sticking up.

And he sent me home with vicodin and instructions to take it at the first sign of discomfort...and the toe hasn't bothered me AT ALL. My back hurts because my gait is off from having to wear the big boot, and I know I don't want to kick something, but I haven't felt any stirrings of pain, not even in the middle of the night when pain is always worse.

I am left to conclude that my nerves must be insensitive in that spot. And right now that is okay with me.

And I am rewatching Supernatural Season One and reading fanfic and having a marvelous time being an invalid. (Better than a vacation, I can't possibly do any chores with my foot needing to be kept elevated, you know.) Four days left to enjoy.

I am Pleased with Myself

Sat, 24 Oct 2009 19:40:06 GMT

Should there be warnings about not posting while recovering from surgery and still feeling no pain?

So this morning I had minor out-patient foot-surgery. I will have to stay off my foot for a week.

To prepare for this week of luxury, I spent the last 3 weeks printing out some of the awesome fanfic in the Supernatural forums--skimming enough to pick my favorite authors but not really reading the stories. So now I have a big binder of wonderful Winchesterness to sit on the couch and submerge myself in, and I am about halfway through the season one stories (yes, I sequenced them and put post-it note tabs on them before I hole-punched and bindered them...) and I feel so happy even when the boys are suffering...

You guys are frickin' amazing: adrenalineshots, authoressnebula, bardicvoice, callistosh65, claire_bear27, deangirl1, debbiel66, ficwriter1966, trys_writer, wordsothewitch, xwacky--I love you all! And I know there are a couple more of you and I will try to add a shout-out to you a bit later!

Taken from another LJ Friend

Thu, 22 Oct 2009 15:11:48 GMT

I figured why not:

The problem with LJ: We all think we are so close, but really we know nothing about one another. So I want you to ask me something you think you should know about me. Something that should be obvious, but you have no idea about. Ask away.

Then post this in your LJ and find out what people don't know about you.

Obviously She Learned from the Best

Thu, 22 Oct 2009 02:32:35 GMT

My 20-yr old just presented a fait accompli that I must salute, even though she pulled it on me.

Had to Do This (Supernatural)

Wed, 21 Oct 2009 14:18:16 GMT

So I have spent the last 2 days reading pages and pages of wonderful Sam-and-Dean whumping stories (there are some incredible writers out there!) and being reduced to tears multiple times.

But...
Last night I had to write this:

Sometimes...

...this almost worked again.

It seemed like a frickin' miracle that he and Sam were back in the Impala and neither one of them was bleeding or busted...

"Sammy?"

"Yeah?"

"You hurt anywhere?" Dean glanced over before turning the ignition.

"Nah, I'm good. You?"

No macho-I'm-toughing-it-out disguised in Sam's face.

"Never touched me." Damn, Sam deserved a compliment. "Thanks to you. That was some quick thinking."

Dean almost laughed as he watched surprise, suspicion, concern, and wariness chase each other across his brother's face. And then Sam decided Dean's words had no hidden meaning and he flashed a real smile, one Dean hadn't seen in a long time.

Dean grinned back giddily. This was how it was supposed to be.

Did I see the Same Episode?

Fri, 16 Oct 2009 03:31:41 GMT

So the reviews seem to be coming in positive.

...it was the worst episode I've ever seen. Worse than "Bugs" from yr 1. The first half was silly, the second half was disturbingly serious--abd the boys hardly interacted at all.

The whoopee cushion would have been funny but Cas was telling them they had to kill a little boy and the joke just was wrong.

And Dean using the buzzer on Sam after telling the kid it was just a toy--Dean in year one would have done that. But now? After all the angst between them? No way would Dean have taken the tiniest risk with Sam like that.

I was worried about the Paris Hilton episode, but that was stellar compared to this, IMO.

Anyone else unhappy? Or is it just me?

Yea, well...

Tue, 13 Oct 2009 21:02:13 GMT

28 seconds

For my Supernatural Friends Only--After 5.05

Tue, 13 Oct 2009 20:34:17 GMT

Fiction: The Words They Never Said
Word Count: 1195
Spoilers: Up through 5.05
Disclaimer: Not mine. I'd have taken better care of them.
Rating: PG-13 for language

Because I couldn't take it any more.

The Words They Never Said

Whatever Sam was seeing, it wasn’t the view through the car windshield. Dean couldn’t take it any more.

“We gotta talk.” Without waiting for a response, Dean steered the Impala to a stop across the two-lane road and killed the engine. It took longer than Dean would have liked for Sam to join him in front of the hood. It was another mark of how distant they’d become that they leaned against the car as physically far apart as possible. And Sam was still silent. Dean was going to have to start cleaning this wound on his own.

“Look, what’s happened…” Oh hell. “Sammy…Sam. Look, before Mom and Dad were even…Mom and Dad… Mom made a deal with the yellow-eyed demon to save Dad, and she…she didn’t know she was doing it…but she sold you to the devil. And we can say she was wrong, but if she hadn’t… well, we wouldn’t be here talking about it. And Dad…he sold his soul to…to save my life. And he shouldn’t have done that…And then I did the same thing to you. And our family is really messed up, you know…” Dean took a glance at Sam out of the corner of his eye. Sam was still staring grimly straight ahead.

“And it gets worse because, of, of what I did in Hell, opening the seal…”Dean’s voice broke momentarily. Pulling glass shards out of his own skin would have been easier. From the other side of the car Sam stirred, but Dean plowed on. He couldn’t stop now. “And what you did…with Lilith…you didn’t know…you were set up…”

Sam viciously jerked his body away from the car. “Why us? Why, Dean? Why is it that our family has been royally fucked over? It’s like we’re just pawns in some cosmic game! And why…why am I Lucifer’s meatsuit and you’re Michael’s?”

“Maybe it’s some damn cosmic karma that says Lucifer and Michael have to fight each other again and if the world gets screwed in the middle of it, well, that’s what happens. But it doesn’t have to be us, Sam, it doesn’t. Or maybe it does, I don’t know.” Dean rubbed his forehead. “Maybe, for whatever reason, whoever put us here figured we had a chance at…getting it right. I don’t know, Sam. I can’t even think about it any more. I just know that if you and I don’t make it right between us, well, I don’t want to think about what’s gonna happen.”

Dean looked searchingly at his brother’s hard eyes, Sam’s hunched shoulders and fierce posture telling Dean his words weren’t working. Time to relinquish the illusion of being in control.

“The demon blood drinking part, listening to Ruby…That you made a choice to do…and it was wrong…but…the thing is…what I did in Hell to those…other souls…I did that on my own too, because…because I was weak…”

“What I’m trying to say, Sammy…Sam…is that we both screwed up big time. And we’d both give anything to change it…but we don’t get a do-over, and I think we’re both having a hard time forgiving each other because…well, because we’re really having a hard time forgiving ourselves.”

“Don’t…you…ever…say…you…are…weak…again!” The vehemence in Sam’s voice startled Dean. And suddenly angry Sam was gone, replaced by a Sam who looked as lost as the day Jess had died. “Dean, I’d give anything to take it all back, all of it, not just Ruby and the seal, but what I said to you…”

“I believe you, Sam. And I said some stuff too…I can be a real judgmental bastard, sometimes, you know? And I’m sorry, if I’d have trusted you maybe it would’ve turned out different…

“But dammit, we can’t go back, and I for one don’t want to go where we’re being put! But the only way I see us having a chance is together. We gotta forgive ourselves and...and let the past go. It’s a messed-up, crappy life, but…but if we were brothers again, really brothers…I could keep fighting.”

Sam’s eyes were suddenly too bright. “How can I be your brother again when I can’t trust myself?”

“Dude, you think you have a lock on hating yourself?” Dean seized Sam’s shoulders and froze Sam’s gaze with his. “I can’t stand myself when I think about what I did! And I want to forget but I can’t! And I can’t undo it—But the goddamn angels say I can fix it if I just let Michael take me over…” Dean dropped his hands from Sam. “Is that what I have to do, Sammy? Give myself up again? ‘Cause there won’t be anything left of me if I do.” Dean could hardly get the next words out. “I could save the world if I wasn’t such a selfish bastard.”

“No.” Now Sam’s hand clenched Dean’s shoulder like a vise. “No, you were a selfish bastard when you sold yourself to the demon for me. And Dad was a selfish bastard when he did it for you. And I understand why you did it. And I might’ve, hell, I tried doing the same thing for you. Because being alone…it sucked. And I justified everything I was doing with Ruby by thinking of it as my mission, my revenge…and I knew, deep down, it wasn’t right…even if some parts of it, the saving people, that was good, it wasn’t worth the price. And if you’d been here, I don’t know if I’d have listened to you…but you sure as hell would’ve tried to stop me. But when you came back it was too late, I told myself you wouldn’t understand…And it was me not trusting you.

“Dean. We have made a holy mess of things, but…” very softly, “I think you’re right about…about forgiving ourselves. And trusting ourselves…trusting each other…Because no matter how bad it gets, I’m gonna believe the world has a better shot against the Apocalypse with Dean Winchester fighting than with Michael…because I don’t think Lucifer can get me while you’re with me…”

“Sam…” Sam was finally looking at him. “I don’t know what else to say…I can’t be responsible for keeping you from Lucifer…”

“You don’t have to be…It’s just that…” Sam took a deep breath and suddenly looked solidly himself. “When you believe in me, then I can believe in myself too. And…” thoughfully, “it’s that way for you, too. “ Sam’s sudden ferocious grin took Dean by surprise. “We’re completely, co-dependently dysfunctional. I can’t even say it’s all Dad’s fault…and damn, this is so not where we’d be if life were fair…but this is what we’re good at, and as long as we have each others’ back…

Dean’s eyes were stinging. “Sammy…I mean Sam…”

And their arms were wrapped around each other and neither one said anything for a few minutes. Sam regained control of his voice first.

“I won’t get pissed if you call me Sammy once in a while. ‘Cause I still need a big brother sometimes. As long as you remember you can lean on me too. Deal?”

“Deal.“

The Impala doors slammed shut simultaneously. “Fuck the Apocalypse. Those sons-of bitches ain’t gonna know what hit ‘em.”

For my Supernatural Friends Only!

Wed, 07 Oct 2009 05:12:13 GMT

Spoilers through almost the end of season 3!

I was horrified at the change in Sam in Mystery Spot after Dean died 'for real' and the scene where he patched himself up after a battle was stuck in my head.

***************************************************

The whiskey burned going down but Sam stifled the reflexive cough. Out of habit, he muffled his curse at the pain that lanced up his ribs as well, even though it no longer mattered. Not that Sam’s attempts at stoicism had ever really fooled Dean—both of them had always seen through the other’s tough guy act. Although truthfully Dean had always been the better actor…

Three and a half months and it still hurt when he thought of Dean. Sam knew it always would. How many times had they patched each other up after a less-than-100%-successful tangle with the “monster-of-the-week?” Sam took another swallow from the bottle, then methodically laid out what he’d need from the first aid kit.

Alcohol wipes—tweezers—needle—thread—scissors—gauze—the almost-empty tube of antibiotic cream. The bottle of painkillers was an afterthought. Pain was always part of him now. Wincing as he raised his arms to the shelf, he grabbed the stack of threadbare towels from the tiny bathroom. Sam’s lips quirked at the random though of just how many motel towels the Winchester family had ruined over the years.

Time to see how bad it really was. His blue shirt was ruined, the blood would never come out. Taking the scissors to it was simply the most expedient way to deal with the fabric adhering to the clotted blood. The tug of the cloth caused the wound to begin oozing again.

He was going to have to extract the pellet. Sam wiped the tweezers with alcohol, set his teeth, and twisted the implement into the neat little hole between his ribs. He held his breath against the fierce burning as he probed with the pincers. He couldn’t have done this three months ago…and before then he wouldn’t have had to, Dean would have been managing the extraction with equal amounts of sympathy at hurting Sam and nonchalance that it wasn’t that bad. It was, after all, just a little hole in an inconvenient place…Sam froze for a moment at the unbidden memory of the bloody hole in Dean’s chest on that Wednesday…

A stinging wipe with a fresh alcohol pad, a twist of antibiotic, then on to the three-inch slash below the bullet hole. Passing out was not an option; Sam considered another gulp of whiskey, decided against it, and had the thought that he was lucky it was on his left side so he could sew it right-handed.

Neat, efficient stitches, just like mending a ripped shirt…He should have gone to med school, not law school. Clean the needle, put the supplies back in the first aid kit, no collapsing till the job was finished properly. Dean would be pissed if Sam got lax…

Sam followed up two painkillers with another gulp of whiskey. Not particularly wise, but who was there to care if he did something stupid? Tackling that demon nest alone was reckless but he could claim he was just doing his job. And if he ended up on the losing side of what he thought of as his ‘Dean-style’ approach to fighting the bad guys, well it really didn’t matter. As long as he took the Trickster down first.

As he lay on the motel bed and waited for the painkillers and booze to knock him out, Sam didn’t even register the permanent ache of his clenched jaw.

****************************************************************

So how'd I do? And can anyone think of a good title? Or where I should post it?