comment_fic 466-470: White Collar/Highlander, Chuck. NCIS, SN, Inception/SN

[tigriswolf]

Title: you are gone, my stranger
Fandom: Highlander/White Collar
Disclaimer: not my characters
Warnings: post-series for Highlander, AU for White Collar
Pairings: none stated
Rating: PG
Wordcount: 355
Point of view: third
Prompt: White Collar, Neal, it isn't real

 

For a long time, he thought it was a dream.

Then he hoped it was simply a delusion.

He knows better now, even if he wishes he could wake up screaming.

o0o

His name hasn't always been Neal. He hasn't always been a liar and a thief.

For a long time, he was something much worse.

o0o

He remembers swords and fire and blood. He knows exactly why he doesn't like guns, and he also knows why he's so good with them.

It's not a dream, this cage in New York.

It is a fantasy, an escape he wished for, dreamt for, hoped for. And now he has it, but he remembers-

o0o

Moz found him wandering the streets, covered in blood that (was)n't his, a sword cradled in his arms.

Moz thought he was brand-new, an infant in need of guidance, lost and lonely.

Only two of those were right.

o0o

It's been nice, pretending. Fun and easy. A rest he sorely needed, if that last challenge was any indication.

He's ready to go home.

But he isn't ready to leave Peter, El, Mozzie, or June. He isn't ready to take up his sword again, to kill all comers.

But he doesn't want to die, either. And he doesn't want headhunters going after his family to force his hand.

o0o

He doesn't say goodbye, doesn't give any hint that it's his last day as Neal Caffrey, and doesn't take anything but his sword (returned by Mozzie) before he goes.

He was a student of War, and War learned from Death, and the Old Man is waiting for him. Out of the game for almost a decade, things have changed and he only trusts his teacher's teacher to reintroduce him.

Mozzie is awesome, and he was lucky to have been found by him. But Moz is not a warrior. He's escaped detection for centuries and Neal (not for much longer) doesn't want to reveal him to the world. He owes Moz and he'll protect him from what he can.

So he sheds Neal Caffrey and goes to the nearest safe-house, and waits for Methos.
 

 

 

Title: live—until I cease to be
Fandom: Chuck
Disclaimer: not my characters; title from Lord Byron
Warnings: vampire AU
Pairings: pre-Bryce/Chuck
Rating: PG13
Wordcount: 1050
Point of view: third
Prompt: Chuck, Chuck(/Casey or Bryce or Shaw), blood in the water

 

Chuck quickly ducked behind the potted plant, trying to be invisible. If he stayed entirely motionless and didn't breathe at all, maybe the vampires wouldn't notice him.

Despite his prayers and fervent hopes, he wasn't that surprised when the vampires found him within seconds.

Stupid heartbeat.

o0o

Turns out, the vampires worked for The Black Ring slavers, and they were looking for new meat. And Chuck, while a geek and pacifist, was in very good physical condition and had nowhere near an alpha personality, so the vampires thought he'd make an excellent addition to their collection.

He tried not to think that Bryce wouldn't have ever been in this situation.

He also tried not to think about how much Ellie would cry when he just simply vanished, like their parents. Maybe this is what happened to them.

o0o

Waiting around in the cage, Chuck really had nothing to do except think. He'd already silently worked his way through Star Trek and Battlestar Galactica facts, and now he kept reminiscing.

Stanford. Jill, his dream girl. And Bryce. His best friend, his brother, the guy who understood him and geeked out with him and told him that together they could do anything. Would do anything. Couldn't be stopped, together. The whole world was theirs.

Then Bryce betrayed him for no reason, and that led to here. The cage. The vampire slavers.

Turns out, he and Bryce had no future at all.

o0o

And then, the vampires started panicking. Hissing and snarling at each other, watching the door warily, looking around in fear.

Chuck would've found this change promising, except nothing scared vampires. Nothing human, anyway. The Old Ones could frighten almost every vampire younger than five thousand. Old Ones, according to myth, could even live without blood for decades and barely tap their reserves.

So since nothing human would be making the slavers act like terrified puppies, only an Old One could be approaching.

And that... could not be good.

o0o

So when Bryce Larkin appeared out of thin air in the midst of the slavers, Chuck did not believe his eyes. Bryce died six months ago, after a break-in at his office when he was working late. Bryce died. Chuck even attended his funeral and got drunk after. He sobbed out a confession to Ellie about his crush on Bryce, the whole time he was with Jill.

But there Bryce was, ripping vampires apart with his bare hands, face totally expressionless. He actually got faster the whole time, tearing off heads and shredding ribcages, squishing hearts in-between his fingers.

Chuck didn't take a breath until it was done, every vampire in pieces and Bryce standing silently standing amongst their dismembered corpses. The rest of the people in the cage were crying or begging or whimpering, pressed as far back as they could get, faces covered by their hands.

But Chuck stared at Bryce, who was looking right back at him, and when Bryce said, "I got you kicked out of Stanford to show how little I cared for you because one of my children had gone rogue." He nodded his head to the slavers' remains and said, "They were the last of his clan."

Bryce strode forward, saying, "Breathe, Chuck. You're still human. You need the air."

Chuck took a deep breath, fairly sure he was hallucinating. Maybe the slavers had given him something.

Bryce smiled at him, that same smile when Chuck managed to beat him at something, like he was happy at Chuck's success. He was so different from anyone Chuck had ever known. Even Morgan grumbled when Chuck did better.

"I missed you," Bryce said, tearing off the door of the cage.

The people were being as still and quiet as possible, but Bryce seemed so normal. Exactly like Chuck's friend back at Stanford. Just a genius, charismatic, gorgeous guy. Chuck had always wondered what Bryce saw in him, a bumbling geek, and here, Bryce had even come back from the dead to annihilate vampires for him.

"What are you?" Chuck asked as he took Bryce's offered hand to jump out of the cage. Bryce just shrugged, so Chuck turned back, trying to get the people to follow him. "C'mon," he said. "Let's get out of here."

None of them reacted and Chuck frowned, leaning half in. "Guys?"

"They're in a trance," Bryce told him. "They'll wake up when we're gone."

Chuck looked back at him. "What?"

Bryce smiled again, this time his it's for your own good, so do what I say smile, the one that got Chuck to drink various concoctions every time he got sick because they were Granna Rose's special recipe and cured everything from colds to allergic reactions to mono and pneumonia.

In hindsight, Chuck was a gullible moron because every one of those medications had been dark red.

"You claimed me," Chuck said.

"Yes."

"Why?" he asked, moving past confusion into apprehension because, even after everything, Bryce still felt safe.

"You are unique, Chuck, unlike any soul I've met in my entire existence." He reached up to cup Chuck's cheek with his palm. "And you are mine, Chuck. Even if you deny me until your dying day, I will protect you. These children knew what they did when they grabbed you—their last defiant act to the one who made their maker." He pulled away and Chuck sighed at the loss of contact.

They were both silent for a moment, Chuck avoiding Bryce's steady gaze. Finally, Bryce said, "I'll take you home. Ellie's worried."

Chuck nodded.

o0o

At the door, Chuck paused, turning to Bryce. They'd been quiet on the way and nobody had bothered them. Chuck could've sworn a few guys he somehow knew were vampires had fled in the opposite direction. Bryce looked sad by porchlight, tired and so very young.

"Come by tomorrow," he said. "Midmorning. Ellie and Awesome will be at work."

This time, it was Bryce's relieved smile, the one he wore whenever Chuck forgave him back at Stanford. "We'll talk," Chuck said, and Bryce nodded.

Chuck slid his key into the lock and turned the knob. He knew Bryce wouldn't leave until he was inside, and most likely not even then. "Thank you," he murmured.

Bryce just brushed a hand along his shoulder and faded into the night like he'd never been.
 

 

 

 

 

Title: said far more than words can say
Fandom: NCIS
Disclaimer: not my characters
Warnings: AU
Pairings: pre-Gibbs/Tony
Rating: PG
Wordcount: 625
Point of view: third
Prompt: NCIS, Tony/Gibbs, down to the earth

 

Jethro's mother had been an ocelot 'shifter while his father was pure human. Shannon was a red fox and Kelly died before her other half manifested, if it would've. Jethro's father told him more than once that he was surprised Jethro wasn't a wolf.

But Jethro had no other half. He had the temperament of a wolf, and the need for a pack and something to defend, but it never manifested and he felt that loss keenly after Shannon and Kelly died.

Franks' other half was a crotchety old vulture and Ducky's, oddly enough, was a sleek and satisfied snow leopard, but no one else in Jethro's pack was a 'shifter until Abby and her fennec fox took NCIS by storm.

o0o

The first time Jethro saw Detective Tony DiNozzo, it was on a snowy December day and a petty officer had been murdered while visiting his family. The case was simple and straight-forward, but Viv spent the whole time griping about how the FBI did things and DiNozzo's sense of humor really kept Jethro from ripping her throat out. Metaphorically, of course. Since he wasn't actually a 'shifter.

Once the case was wrapped up, Jethro told DiNozzo he should check out NCIS. A month later, DiNozzo showed up.

On the paperwork, DiNozzo checked avian as his other half, but didn't specify which kind since it wasn't required. Jethro didn't care that he didn't know; he figured if it became important, DiNozzo would tell him.

o0o

Five years came and went. Kate joined the pack and died, her caracal with her. McGee and Ziva, each without another half, joined and managed to survive.

When Jethro woke up from his coma, nothing made sense. Merely existing hurt. So after the higher-ups made a horrible decision, he quit and stormed out with barely a word to his pack.

As an alpha, that was a failure that should've had him thrown from the territory with bleeding wounds. Instead, they all respected his decision and stayed away as he shoved a few necessities in a duffle and headed for his car.

Tony was leaning on his car, shades hooked to his shirt and shield in his hand. "Before you go," he said quietly without looking at Jethro, "I should tell you something." He paused, but Jethro stayed silent. "Being allowed into your pack was the best thing that ever happened to me." A slightly longer pause.

Jethro had gaps in his memory, but he knew enough to let his beta have a say.

Tony nodded. "I understand your frustration, why you think you're not important. But you're important to NCIS, and to a lot of people." He pushed off the car and let the shield fall onto the hood. "While you're gone," he said quietly, "hang onto to that for me, would ya?"

He didn't look at Jethro as he turned and 'shifted into a medium-sized dark bird and took to the sky.

o0o

On his way to the airport, Jethro stopped at a library. He found Tony's other half in a bird guidebook and went to the Reflecting Pool, where he sat beside the water.

Before the coma, in all the years he'd known DiNozzo, Tony had never revealed his other half. And now, as Jethro was on his way out of town, Tony gave him his goddamned badge and let him see.

"Get down here, DiNozzo!" he hollered at the sky, at the paradise crow that'd been following him since he left his house.

And Tony landed in front of him, preened for a moment, and changed back. "Yeah, Boss?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

Jethro glared at him and tossed the badge back. DiNozzo just grinned at him like he'd won something and settled beside him, trailing his fingers in the water.
 

 

 

Title: sunlight and silence
Fandom: Supernatural
Disclaimer: not my characters
Warnings: AU preseries
Pairings: John/Mary
Rating: PG
Wordcount:210
Point of view: third
Prompt: John, he almost let his boys live

 

It breaks his heart. He survived Nam, and he survived Mary, but this, this.

Elkins had sworn up one side and down the other that he killed the last vampire a dozen years ago.

If John doesn't kill himself at dawn after burning his sons, after hunting his sons, after that fucking vampire that wasn't extinct turned Sammy and let him loose to turn Dean—if John survives till tomorrow night, he'll take a deep breath, tell Mary to wait a little longer, whisper goodbye to the best boys the world ever saw, and then he'll point his car to the north and he'll drive straight through to Colorado and the lying scum that let his boys become monsters.

If John sees tomorrow night. But Dean's out there, and Sammy, and he taught them everything they know and he loves them so much, and they wouldn't want to live like monsters, his baby boys, Mary's darlings, they wouldn't want to live like this.

He has to hunt them. He has to put them down.

And if he survives laying them to rest, then he'll go see Elkins.

And Elkins, that lying bastard—he'll pay the debt in full, for that gaping wound where the Winchester boys used to be.

Title: we are the dreamers of dreams
Fandom: Inception/Supernatural
Disclaimer: not my characters
Warnings: future!fic for film; vague spoilers for SN
Pairings: pre-Arthur/Eames
Rating: PG
Wordcount: 470
Point of view: third
Prompt: Inception, Arthur/Eames, Eames is an actual shapeshifter

 

There's a reason Eames is the best forger that dreamsharing has ever seen.

Most of his kind stick to the shadows, work alone, and try to avoid notice. Eames found, though, that trying to stay hidden means more people will discover what one doesn't want discovered, so he's making a name for himself and the only secrets that will be outed are the secrets he wants outed.

And maybe a few of his own, those sad and sorry creatures, will be angry, but not a single one of them will have the courage to endanger themselves just to get to him.

o0o

Arthur is the most dangerous thing Eames has ever seen.

Arthur isn't like him; he's something else, something more, and Eames is fascinated because he can tell Arthur doesn't know.

The first time Eames goes into Arthur's dreams, it is a ghost town and Eames can find nothing. He asks Cobb, in a roundabout way, and learns that Arthur's mind only ever shows what he wants it to show.

Well, Eames can relate to that.

o0o

After the Fischer job, they all go their separate ways. Eames is fine with that; he's on to the next great adventure.

He has a dream one night, not long after, of Arthur laughing on a bridge before throwing himself off. In the dream, Eames followed and he woke after he hit the water, when he was scrambling for Arthur's hand to pull him to the surface.

o0o

"Mr. Eames," Arthur says, a week after that nightmare, appearing suddenly in the chair across from Eames.

Eames knows he's awake, the same way he's always known.

"Yes, Arthur?" he asks, flicking a poker chip from one finger to the next.

Arthur hesitates a moment. Eames waits, allows Arthur to study his face, to take a slow breath, to gather his words.

"There's a man," Arthur begins. "In my dreams, whether I'm using the PASIV or not." Another hesitation, but Eames stays silent. "He has yellow eyes."

Eames hasn't kept up with the news from his kind, but he knows who Arthur means and he sucks in a sharp breath.

And Arthur is not a fool. He'd have done some research, found out about that business in America, and he'd only come to Eames for one reason.

"He's dead, Arthur, to the best of my knowledge."

Arthur nods. "I did discover that, but it doesn't change the fact that he's in my dreams and telling me things I'd really rather have not known."

Eames looks at him for a long moment, and Arthur looks back.

"To America, then?" Eames asks.

Arthur nods again.

o0o

Eames wonders sometimes what might have been, if that stupid yellow-eyed fucker hadn't been so wrapped up in that Winchester kid.

He figures they're all better off that he didn't focus on Arthur as his champion.