comment_fic 56-60: SN, Heroes, fairy tale

[tigriswolf]

Title: waking dream
Fandom: Supernatural
Disclaimer: not my characters
Warnings: somewhat sad; spoilers for season 4
Pairings: Castiel/Dean
Rating: PG
Wordcount: 145
Point of view: third
Prompt: Castiel/Dean, "I can take us anywhere you wish to go."

 

Dean is dying, bleeding out into the dustdirt of the battlefield. Sam is somewhere over the next ridge, also dying.

Castiel is exhausted, lying next to his favorite of all beings. He doesn't have the strength to heal, and Father has declared that it is the Winchesters time to go.

"Dean," Castiel whispers, placing his hand on Dean's chest. He is in his true form; Jimmy Novak was burned away by Lucifer's power. "Dean, listen to me."

Dean slowly turns his head to glance at Castiel. "Cas?" he murmurs. "Sam..."

"I can take you away," Castiel tells him. "Think of anywhere."

Castiel keeps his eyes on Dean's and slowly sinks into him. Dean remembers his car, his brother sitting in the passenger seat, the road in front of them and music blasting.

He dies in Castiel's embrace, thinking himself far away and lifetimes ago.
 

 

Title: playdates
Fandom: Heroes
Disclaimer: not my characters
Warnings: “I am become Death” future
Pairings: none stated
Rating: PG
Wordcount: 150
Point of view: third
Prompt: Elle & little!Noah, sandy beaches

 

Sometimes, when the voices in Gabriel's head get to be too much, Elle takes Noah to the beach. They build sandcastles and sandangels, play in the waves, chase seagulls. It's the most peaceful she ever feels, spending time with Gabriel's son.

He never calls her mommy or mama. She kisses his cheek and his forehead, tickles him till he begs for mercy, laughing almost too hard to breathe.

Gabriel always smiles at her when she brings Noah back, brushes his fingers along her hand or her face. "Thank you," he says.

He never kisses her. She never mentions Sylar or her father.

(When Claire catches up to her, Elle doesn't have a chance to tell her what a mistake she's made because Sylar's sleeping in Gabriel, and he doesn't trust anyone else enough to let them take Noah away so he can have time to make the voices stop.)

 

Title: in the blood
Fandom: Supernatural
Disclaimer: not my characters
Warnings: future!fic
Pairings: none stated
Rating: PG
Wordcount: 280
Point of view: third
Prompt: Sam/Dean, hanging out with Ben (3x02)

 

He finds them not too long after the world doesn't end, with a duffle bag, a gun, and two knives.

"Teach me," he says, all determination and drive. "I need to know."

“You don’t know what you’re asking,” Dean says. “What about your mom?”

He looks away. “She married this guy,” he mutters. “She doesn’t—I can’t be there anymore.”

o0o

“We can’t keep him,” Sam hisses, keeping his voice low so they don’t wake Ben. “Dean, you know that. We should send him back to Lisa.”

Dean laughs, and there’s desperation in the sound. “We can’t,” he says. “Dude, he’s one of us.”

Sam pretends he doesn’t understand. “One of us?”

Nodding, Dean glances over at his son, asleep on the top of the covers, a knife shoved under the pillow. “A Winchester.”

o0o

Ben sings along with Dean’s music and picks up shooting like it’s in his blood. He mocks Sam’s hair and inhales his food and laughs at Dean’s stupid comments.

None of them think anything of the first nightmare. Or the second. But during the third, the room trembles.

Sam’s died and come back, and he was once within a stone’s-throw of being Lucifer reborn. Dean’s died and gone to Hell, where he scared even the most demented demon, and he was chosen by Heaven to save the world.

“You’re right,” Sam tells Dean while Ben takes a shower, none the wiser. “He is one of us.”

Dean closes his eyes, sighs, and mutters, “Shit, Sammy.” He squares his shoulders and sits up straight. “Should we tell him the truth?”

Sam’s eyes glow yellow for a moment; he blinks and they’re green again. “Yeah,” he decides. “We should.”
 

 

Title: blessings or curses
Fandom: Sleeping Beauty
Disclaimer: my characters; not my fairy tale
Warnings: spoilers for a centuries’ old legend
Rating: PG
Wordcount: 180
Point of view: third
Prompt: first time the fairy godmother's/other kindly helpers' plans go terribly terribly wrong

 

When Prince Edmund entered the Enchanted Castle, loyal Calliope at his side, he knew something was very wrong.

"We shouldn't be here," Calliope murmured, ears pricked forward, ruff up. "It is not right."

"I am a prince," Edmund told her softly, gently rubbing along her spine. "There is a princess here in need of awakening."

"No, Ed," Calliope, breathing deep. "There is nothing here but bones."

Walking further in, Edmund saw that she was correct: skeletons were everywhere, clothes in tatters hanging off them. All were slumped over, some into cups and bowls, some against the walls. Some in the middle of the walkway.

Edmund did not continue his quest into the Enchanted Castle.

"I do not understand," he later said to his mother.

She kissed his cheek and replied, "Not all magic goes to according to plan, my dear. We do not speak of it."

He nodded and left on the morrow, Calliope at his side, this time going deep into the woods to the east. He'd heard tell of a beautiful maiden trapped in a tower with no doors.
 

 

Title: locks torn wide
Fandom: Heroes
Disclaimer: not my characters
Warnings: spoilers for season 3
Pairings: implied Sylar/Mohinder
Rating: PG
Wordcount: 345
Point of view: third
Prompt: Breaking Through

 

When he remembers, it's not some big thing that jogs his memory. It's so small that no one else notices.

His watch is off by three-point-five seconds and it's driving him mad. Thing is, Nathan Petrelli has never restored timepieces(and why is that the phrase that comes to mind? Why not watchmaker?) and would not have ever noticed the time off by such an infinitesimal amount.

But he does. And while he’s alone in his room, trying to take it apart because he has to fix it, all the walls in his mind come crumbling down.

Sylar restores the timepiece in ten seconds, telekinesis still his strongest ability, while he’s seething. “Parkman,” he hisses. “Angela. Bennet.”

“Nathan!” he hears his fake mother call. “Sweetheart, time for lunch! Peter’s waiting.”

He quickly shifts back into that hated body, Nathan’s memories clamoring to reclaim him. “Of course, Mother,” he murmurs. “Let’s not keep Pete waiting.”

Sylar puts on his watch and goes downstairs, where he calls Angela Ma and kisses her cheek. Now that he’s looking for it, he sees the set of her shoulders, the uncomfortable expression on her face—just a moment, and then it’s gone, and she’s smiling at Nathan, her firstborn son.

The monster finally freed from his cage imagines her skull torn open and smiles.

o0o

After lunch, when Ma-Mother-Angela-Warden is napping and Peter’s gone back to work, Sylar decides to pay Mohinder a visit. He wonders how long it will take Mohinder to notice that ‘Nathan’ isn’t acting very Nathan-like.

Mohinder greets him with a smile and a name he now loathes; Sylar follows him around the lab as he explains his newest breakthrough in research.

“What’s wrong?” Mohinder finally asks. “You’re quiet.”

Sylar gives him a shy smile with Nathan’s face and says, “Just thinking. Your father would be proud of you, Mohinder.”

Mohinder replies sincerely, “Thank you, Nathan.”

“We’ll remake the world,” Sylar tells him.

“We’ve already tried that, Nathan,” Mohinder says. “Remember that debacle?”

“Mohinder,” Sylar purrs, dropping Nathan’s mask and stretching to his full height. “I haven’t tried yet.”

Comments

[tigriswolf]

Thank you so much!