Fic: It Never Rains
Sep. 5th, 2009 05:29 am![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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spn_summergenTitle: It Never Rains
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
nativestar
Recipient:art_savage
Pairing/Character:Dean and Sam. No pairings.
Disclaimer: I own nothing. Just playing.
Rating: PG-13
Warnings/Spoilers: None
Author Notes: Huge thank you to my beta M who is made of awesome.
Summary: The boys vs. MotW plus Mother Nature
Rivulets of rain slid down the back of his neck, slipping under his collar and running down his back. The wind had picked up too, adding an extra degree of cold. His clenched his teeth against the shivers and tried to will his body to be still.
It was pretty hard to shoot monsters when your hand was shaking. The jagged scar on his left hip was a testament to that and Dean wasn’t stupid, he didn’t repeat his mistakes.
They’d had to act tonight. No choice when the alternative was letting 30 school kids camp out for a week with a nasty spirit in the woods. They’d tried posing as forestry officers and getting the trip cancelled but when the real forestry officers had turned up while they were speaking to the teacher and threatened to have them arrested they’d quickly given up on that plan. It was pretty difficult fighting monsters in jail cells, and Dean really wished he didn’t know that one from experience.
Three people had died already and Dean was not going to let a child become victim number four. The dead had all died unremarkably, hypothermia, heat stroke, drowning but with no obvious reason, how many people died from the cold in the middle of summer? Or suffered dehydration next to a pond?
The victims had nothing in common so Sam had suggested it was the location rather than the people that was the key. They didn’t even know it was a spirit, it was just the most likely contender at the moment.
“I think we should split up.” Sam suggested after two hours of traipsing around woodland with nothing to show but insect bites.
“Nothing good ever happens when we split up.”
“We can cover more ground, and hey, if this thing does come after one of us at least we won’t have to search anymore.”
The idea of getting out the woods clearly appealed to Dean.
“Okay, but don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
The rain started about ten minutes after they went their separate ways. A light drizzle at first that gradually built into a steady downpour. Half an hour later, thoroughly soaked and no closer to figuring out what was tormenting the area let alone how to get rid of it and Dean was ready to call it a night, even if it meant having to come up with another idea for how to get the kids away from the area. A tinny ringtone broke through the sound of rainfall.
Sam’s voice was distorted and breaking up over the phone but Dean still understood him. Probably came from years of listening to Sammy trying to speak with his mouth full of food. But surely he must have misunderstood him?
“You think the spirit is controlling the weather?”
Dean had never heard of a spirit having that kind of power.
“Well, it’s pretty freaky weather otherwise, Dean.”
“I guess.”
“How else does someone suffocate in a pit of mud when it’s been sunshine for a week?”
“Hey, I never said you didn’t have a point. Okay, so a weather controlling spirit. How do we fight one of those, I don’t remember reading about them in the manual. Do you think a salt and burn will cut it?”
“It’s probably too wet for that right now. Maybe a banishing spell until it dries out and we can finish it off?”
“Sounds like a plan to—”
Dean’s last word was cut off as he lost his footing and fell heavily onto his side, sliding down a steep incline. The breath was driven from his lungs as he impacted fallen trees and debris before snagging on a branch.
“Shit. Think I just found Casper.”
Rain quickly turned to hail, pounding into him and stinging his skin. He started shivering as the temperature plummeted.
“Alright! You got my attention! What do you want?” Dean yelled. He couldn’t see any bones, or spirits. Nothing to burn, nothing to shoot. Might as well try talking. It sometimes worked. Almost never, but almost only counted in horseshoes.
He heard nothing but the pouring rain for a moment, then voiced, or rather as he listened closely a single voice. Indistinct with words overlapping he couldn’t make out what it was saying but it sounded young. The spirit’s just a kid?
“I didn’t catch that! Why don’t you come closer and tell me?” Dean shouted as he brought his shotgun out in front of him, making sure it was ready to fire.
The crushing pressure on his back didn’t let up, his face was pressed into the wet ground so hard he swore he was breathing dirt not air. Suddenly the pressure was gone, vanished like vapour on the wind.
He flipped himself over and relaxed, spent after all the effort. The spirit was gone, one way or another. Sammy would find him, or he’d find Sammy. Either way, he was going to shut his eyes, just for a moment, just to—
“Okay, I gottach Dean.”
Dean abruptly woke up feeling Sam’s hands along his arms, slipping one over his shoulder.
“Sammy… we get it?” Dean was heavy in his arms, trying to cooperate as Sam got him to his feet but with sloppy movements that spoke of a concussion at least.
“Yeah, mother nature is no more. I think the rain was really trying to help us. It washed away the dirt, I don’t think I would have found the bones otherwise. Couldn’t burn them though, so I’m not sure how effective just salt will be”
“I think it’ll be enough but still… annoying bitch.”
“Come on Dean, we need to get you warmed up. Are you hurt anywhere else?”
“Leg’s cut. Think it’s stopped bleedin’ though.”
Sam stopped just long enough to make sure ‘it’s stopped bleeding’ didn’t mean ‘I’m bleeding out’ before continuing.
“Hey, Sam?”
“Yeah, Dean?”
“Next place we go, make sure it’s dry. Like desert dry, okay?”
“Sure, Dean. I’ll even make sure it’s a dry county.”
“Sam!”
Author:
nativestarRecipient:
art_savagePairing/Character:Dean and Sam. No pairings.
Disclaimer: I own nothing. Just playing.
Rating: PG-13
Warnings/Spoilers: None
Author Notes: Huge thank you to my beta M who is made of awesome.
Summary: The boys vs. MotW plus Mother Nature
~~~~~~~~~
Rivulets of rain slid down the back of his neck, slipping under his collar and running down his back. The wind had picked up too, adding an extra degree of cold. His clenched his teeth against the shivers and tried to will his body to be still.
It was pretty hard to shoot monsters when your hand was shaking. The jagged scar on his left hip was a testament to that and Dean wasn’t stupid, he didn’t repeat his mistakes.
They’d had to act tonight. No choice when the alternative was letting 30 school kids camp out for a week with a nasty spirit in the woods. They’d tried posing as forestry officers and getting the trip cancelled but when the real forestry officers had turned up while they were speaking to the teacher and threatened to have them arrested they’d quickly given up on that plan. It was pretty difficult fighting monsters in jail cells, and Dean really wished he didn’t know that one from experience.
Three people had died already and Dean was not going to let a child become victim number four. The dead had all died unremarkably, hypothermia, heat stroke, drowning but with no obvious reason, how many people died from the cold in the middle of summer? Or suffered dehydration next to a pond?
The victims had nothing in common so Sam had suggested it was the location rather than the people that was the key. They didn’t even know it was a spirit, it was just the most likely contender at the moment.
~~~~~~~~~
“I think we should split up.” Sam suggested after two hours of traipsing around woodland with nothing to show but insect bites.
“Nothing good ever happens when we split up.”
“We can cover more ground, and hey, if this thing does come after one of us at least we won’t have to search anymore.”
The idea of getting out the woods clearly appealed to Dean.
“Okay, but don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
~~~~~~~~~
The rain started about ten minutes after they went their separate ways. A light drizzle at first that gradually built into a steady downpour. Half an hour later, thoroughly soaked and no closer to figuring out what was tormenting the area let alone how to get rid of it and Dean was ready to call it a night, even if it meant having to come up with another idea for how to get the kids away from the area. A tinny ringtone broke through the sound of rainfall.
Sam’s voice was distorted and breaking up over the phone but Dean still understood him. Probably came from years of listening to Sammy trying to speak with his mouth full of food. But surely he must have misunderstood him?
“You think the spirit is controlling the weather?”
Dean had never heard of a spirit having that kind of power.
“Well, it’s pretty freaky weather otherwise, Dean.”
“I guess.”
“How else does someone suffocate in a pit of mud when it’s been sunshine for a week?”
“Hey, I never said you didn’t have a point. Okay, so a weather controlling spirit. How do we fight one of those, I don’t remember reading about them in the manual. Do you think a salt and burn will cut it?”
“It’s probably too wet for that right now. Maybe a banishing spell until it dries out and we can finish it off?”
“Sounds like a plan to—”
Dean’s last word was cut off as he lost his footing and fell heavily onto his side, sliding down a steep incline. The breath was driven from his lungs as he impacted fallen trees and debris before snagging on a branch.
“Shit. Think I just found Casper.”
~~~~~~~~~
Rain quickly turned to hail, pounding into him and stinging his skin. He started shivering as the temperature plummeted.
“Alright! You got my attention! What do you want?” Dean yelled. He couldn’t see any bones, or spirits. Nothing to burn, nothing to shoot. Might as well try talking. It sometimes worked. Almost never, but almost only counted in horseshoes.
He heard nothing but the pouring rain for a moment, then voiced, or rather as he listened closely a single voice. Indistinct with words overlapping he couldn’t make out what it was saying but it sounded young. The spirit’s just a kid?
“I didn’t catch that! Why don’t you come closer and tell me?” Dean shouted as he brought his shotgun out in front of him, making sure it was ready to fire.
The crushing pressure on his back didn’t let up, his face was pressed into the wet ground so hard he swore he was breathing dirt not air. Suddenly the pressure was gone, vanished like vapour on the wind.
He flipped himself over and relaxed, spent after all the effort. The spirit was gone, one way or another. Sammy would find him, or he’d find Sammy. Either way, he was going to shut his eyes, just for a moment, just to—
~~~~~~~~~
“Okay, I gottach Dean.”
Dean abruptly woke up feeling Sam’s hands along his arms, slipping one over his shoulder.
“Sammy… we get it?” Dean was heavy in his arms, trying to cooperate as Sam got him to his feet but with sloppy movements that spoke of a concussion at least.
“Yeah, mother nature is no more. I think the rain was really trying to help us. It washed away the dirt, I don’t think I would have found the bones otherwise. Couldn’t burn them though, so I’m not sure how effective just salt will be”
“I think it’ll be enough but still… annoying bitch.”
“Come on Dean, we need to get you warmed up. Are you hurt anywhere else?”
“Leg’s cut. Think it’s stopped bleedin’ though.”
Sam stopped just long enough to make sure ‘it’s stopped bleeding’ didn’t mean ‘I’m bleeding out’ before continuing.
“Hey, Sam?”
“Yeah, Dean?”
“Next place we go, make sure it’s dry. Like desert dry, okay?”
“Sure, Dean. I’ll even make sure it’s a dry county.”
“Sam!”
~~~~~~~~~
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