Fic: The Luck of the Irish
Apr. 5th, 2009 11:18 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
fandomcornerTitle: The Luck of the Irish
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
hils
Rating: G
Fandom: Supernatural
Pairing: Sam & Dean gen. Set during a non-specific time in season 2 so no real spoilers
Words: 689
Summary: Another day. Another motel
This was written as a St Patrick's Day gift for the fabulousauthoressnebula. It was initially supposed to be something fluffy but sadly the muses had other ideas. Thanks to bogwitch for the beta
Dean, as usual, had chosen a particularly crappy motel for them to stay in. Oh, it was clean enough and had no sign of roaches or rats, which made a change from some of the holes they’d stayed in, but there was a bar out back, which Sam suspected had heavily influenced Dean’s choice, and it was rowdy.
The noise hadn’t bothered him while he was researching their case, but now it was late and he was trying to sleep. Naturally Dean was nowhere to be found. Sam suspected his older brother was probably in the middle of all the noise, a fact confirmed when the motel room door banged open at 1am.
“You’re drunk,” Sam observed as Dean staggered into the room, six pack clutched in his hand
“Sure am,” Dean replied as he flopped onto the couch. “You should be too, Sammy. Don’t you know what today is?”
Through the sleep haze that shrouded his mind Sam wracked his brains.
“March 17th,” he finally said. “Saint Patrick’s Day. Dean, we’re not Irish.”
“Yeah, well, I figure there’s a bit of it in there somewhere. Any excuse to have a few beers, right?”
Sam sighed. “Whatever. Are you going to go to bed now? We’ve got an early start tomorrow.”
“Bed?” Dean snorted. “Hell no. Come and have a beer with me.”
“Dude, I’m trying to sleep.”
“You can sleep in the car tomorrow. Come on, Sammy. Don’t be boring your whole life.”
Arguing was pointless, Sam decided. Dean was going to pester, annoy and be a pain in the ass until he got what he wanted.
“Fine.”
He snatched a bottle from Dean’s hand and flopped down next to him on the couch.
“Do you think leprechauns are real?” Dean asked as they drank.
Sam shrugged. “The folklore probably has its basis in facts, sure.”
“But not the whole pot of gold at the end of the rainbow thing?”
Sam shook his head. “They’re probably more like the trickster than anything.”
Dean shuddered. “Man, I never want to meet him again.”
They drink in silence for a while, the air heavy between them. They’ve been so busy these past few weeks, what with trying to avert the end of the world and everything. This is the first time they’ve had any sort of alone time in a while.
“Can I ask you something?” Dean finally said. “If you could have one wish what would it be?”
Sam shrugged. “I dunno. Depends who was asking. A wish is never that simple, Dean. There’s always some sort of catch attached.”
“Say there wasn’t,” Dean pressed. “Say it was me asking and I could give you anything you wanted. What would you ask for?”
“Why do you even want to know?” Sam asked cautiously. “Has something happened? Have you made a crossroads deal or something?”
“Nah,” Dean dismissed with a wave of his hand. “I’m not that stupid. I’m just curious. Come on, there must be something you want.”
“Fine,” Sam sighed with the tone of someone humouring a persistent child. “I’d wish that dad had never become a hunter and we’d grown up living normal lives.”
“Normal?” Dean snorted. “You’d really rather live in ignorance than know what we know?”
Sam shrugged. “Maybe. I dunno. You asked. Why, what would you wish for?”
“Me?” Dean asked with a lazy smile. “I’m not greedy. I just want one day. Just one, where I don’t have to think about any of this crap.”
Sam nodded and raised his bottle. “I’ll drink to that.”
An hour later Dean was passed out on the couch and after covering him with a blanket Sam climbed into his own bed. His head was pounding and he knew it had nothing to do with the two beers he’d had with Dean. Something was coming. Something dark and terrible. They’d fight it, because that’s what they do, and they’d win. Because if it was the last thing he did Sam was going to make sure Dean got his one day of peace.
He drifted to sleep with the sound of screams ringing in his ears.
The End.
Author:
hilsRating: G
Fandom: Supernatural
Pairing: Sam & Dean gen. Set during a non-specific time in season 2 so no real spoilers
Words: 689
Summary: Another day. Another motel
This was written as a St Patrick's Day gift for the fabulous
authoressnebula. It was initially supposed to be something fluffy but sadly the muses had other ideas. Thanks to bogwitch for the betaDean, as usual, had chosen a particularly crappy motel for them to stay in. Oh, it was clean enough and had no sign of roaches or rats, which made a change from some of the holes they’d stayed in, but there was a bar out back, which Sam suspected had heavily influenced Dean’s choice, and it was rowdy.
The noise hadn’t bothered him while he was researching their case, but now it was late and he was trying to sleep. Naturally Dean was nowhere to be found. Sam suspected his older brother was probably in the middle of all the noise, a fact confirmed when the motel room door banged open at 1am.
“You’re drunk,” Sam observed as Dean staggered into the room, six pack clutched in his hand
“Sure am,” Dean replied as he flopped onto the couch. “You should be too, Sammy. Don’t you know what today is?”
Through the sleep haze that shrouded his mind Sam wracked his brains.
“March 17th,” he finally said. “Saint Patrick’s Day. Dean, we’re not Irish.”
“Yeah, well, I figure there’s a bit of it in there somewhere. Any excuse to have a few beers, right?”
Sam sighed. “Whatever. Are you going to go to bed now? We’ve got an early start tomorrow.”
“Bed?” Dean snorted. “Hell no. Come and have a beer with me.”
“Dude, I’m trying to sleep.”
“You can sleep in the car tomorrow. Come on, Sammy. Don’t be boring your whole life.”
Arguing was pointless, Sam decided. Dean was going to pester, annoy and be a pain in the ass until he got what he wanted.
“Fine.”
He snatched a bottle from Dean’s hand and flopped down next to him on the couch.
“Do you think leprechauns are real?” Dean asked as they drank.
Sam shrugged. “The folklore probably has its basis in facts, sure.”
“But not the whole pot of gold at the end of the rainbow thing?”
Sam shook his head. “They’re probably more like the trickster than anything.”
Dean shuddered. “Man, I never want to meet him again.”
They drink in silence for a while, the air heavy between them. They’ve been so busy these past few weeks, what with trying to avert the end of the world and everything. This is the first time they’ve had any sort of alone time in a while.
“Can I ask you something?” Dean finally said. “If you could have one wish what would it be?”
Sam shrugged. “I dunno. Depends who was asking. A wish is never that simple, Dean. There’s always some sort of catch attached.”
“Say there wasn’t,” Dean pressed. “Say it was me asking and I could give you anything you wanted. What would you ask for?”
“Why do you even want to know?” Sam asked cautiously. “Has something happened? Have you made a crossroads deal or something?”
“Nah,” Dean dismissed with a wave of his hand. “I’m not that stupid. I’m just curious. Come on, there must be something you want.”
“Fine,” Sam sighed with the tone of someone humouring a persistent child. “I’d wish that dad had never become a hunter and we’d grown up living normal lives.”
“Normal?” Dean snorted. “You’d really rather live in ignorance than know what we know?”
Sam shrugged. “Maybe. I dunno. You asked. Why, what would you wish for?”
“Me?” Dean asked with a lazy smile. “I’m not greedy. I just want one day. Just one, where I don’t have to think about any of this crap.”
Sam nodded and raised his bottle. “I’ll drink to that.”
An hour later Dean was passed out on the couch and after covering him with a blanket Sam climbed into his own bed. His head was pounding and he knew it had nothing to do with the two beers he’d had with Dean. Something was coming. Something dark and terrible. They’d fight it, because that’s what they do, and they’d win. Because if it was the last thing he did Sam was going to make sure Dean got his one day of peace.
He drifted to sleep with the sound of screams ringing in his ears.
The End.
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Date: 2010-01-18 10:35 pm (UTC)Anyway. Thought I'd provide a comment ya :D
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