comment_fic 516-520: Trek reboot, SN, WC/Leverage, WC/HL, HL

[tigriswolf]

Title: heroic tendencies—who knew?
Fandom: Star Trek reboot
Disclaimer: not my characters
Warnings: AU
Pairings: none
Rating: PG
Wordcount: 130
Point of view: third
Prompt: Star Trek Reboot, Jim Kirk. A completely different kind of man confronted Jim in that seedy Iowa bar, and instead of going off to the academy he becomes a space pirate. (kudos if he ends up saving earth anyways.)


 

He'd figured, when he thought about it at all, that he'd only ever return to Earth shackled and for execution. He'd left the dirtball behind to take on the stars that killed his father and ruined his mother, that stole his future in less than an hour.

But here he is, hero of the Federation. Savior of Earth.

Pardoned for everything and offered a new job.

"They know I was a prisoner, right?" he whispers to the doc, and McCoy gives him a blistering look.

"They are well aware," the angry half-Vulcan replies. "Unfortunately..." He can't even bring himself to say it and Jim grins.

"Just shut up, kid," McCoy mutters.

Jim thinks that he should commandeer starships more often, if it leads to a homecoming like this.

Title: O golden child the world will kill and eat
Fandom: Supernatural
Disclaimer: not my characters
Warnings: spoilers for early season 6; future!fic
Pairings: past-Dean/Lisa
Rating: PG
Wordcount: 290
Point of view: third
Prompt: Supernatural, any, daddy issues


 

Ben Braedon grew up without a father. On his eighth birthday, he met the coolest dude ever, and tried to pretend that Dean was his dad. Two years later, Dean came back and moved in, and Ben knew his dad was home, and Mom was happy, and everything would be awesome now.

He was wrong, and Dean had changed. He was harder, now, and sharper, and scary sometimes. So scary. And Mom kicked him out, and wouldn't tell Ben why, but Dean didn't come back. Not for the longest time.

Ben Braedon grew up without a father. His mom was the best ever, but Ben wondered sometimes. He still pretended that Dean was the hero he first knew, who saved him from monsters and told him how to deal with bullies and grinned so bright.

On his twenty-second birthday, only a few months away from graduation with an engineering degree, most of the paperwork done for grad school, Ben dreams about a woman with yellow eyes. She tells him he looks like his father.

He tells her to go to Hell.

She laughs and says she's already been, and they've got a nice spot picked out for the darling son of Dean Winchester.

Ben wakes shivering and calls a number he memorizes years ago, and when Bobby Singer answers, Ben says he has to talk to Dean.

Four hours later, Dean knocks on the door and Ben lets him in, and they're the same height now. Dean looks him over and smiles and says, you grew up good, kiddo.

He says, tell me about the dream.

He says, I'm so sorry, Ben.

Ben Braedon grew up without a father, and a part of him wishes he'd never met Dean Winchester.
 

 

Title: let that season be only Spring
Fandom: Leverage/White Collar
Disclaimer: not my characters
Warnings: takes place sometime after season 2 for both shows
Pairings: Eliot/Hardison
Rating: PG
Wordcount: 240
Point of view: third
Prompt: Leverage, Eliot/Hardison, Eliot tries to hide the panic he feels when Alec takes him home to meet his Nana.


 

They fly to New York under the names Tommy Finn and Harold Sawyer. Eliot can't believe it works. All he can think of, every single second of the flight and leaving the airport and taking a cab to Alec's Nana's house, is how much he'd rather be in prison somewhere, being tortured.

Alec is excited and babbling about the awesome places Nana used to take him, and all the lessons Granddad gave him, and how Nana promised him once that unless he did something unpalatably awful, like killing someone who didn't deserve it, she'd always bail him out.

Sounds like a pretty swell lady. Eliot is terrified.

o0o

"Alec!" Nana says, pulling him in for a tight hug. She's tiny and elegant and sharp, and Alec is babbling even more now, trying to introduce them, except his words tumble all over each other.

He hasn't been home, Eliot knows, since before Nate made them a family. Even from afar, though, somehow Nana pulled strings somewhere. When Eliot figured that out, that someone had Alec's back when even Eliot failed…

Well. He will thank her for that.

"Eliot Spencer," Nana says, pulling away to look at Eliot. "I've heard a great deal about you."

He inclines his head and says, "Ma'am. Alec talks about you all the time."

"Call me June." She smiles at him, takes Alec's hand, and turns to lead them inside. "C'mon, boys, lunch is waiting."

 

 

Title: Memory strives with Death
Fandom: White Collar/Highlander
Disclaimer: not my characters
Warnings: no HL characters appear; takes place early in WC
Pairings: none
Rating: PG
Wordcount: 210
Point of view: third
Prompt: White Collar; Neal; "May you find what you're looking for."


 

The buzz hits while he's waiting in line for his coffee. Peter's in his car, on the phone with Hughes about some crisis they'll deal with when they get to the office, and Neal hasn't carried a sword since he became Neal almost a decade and a half ago.

He almost panics, almost looks around and gives himself away. But Neal has been in the Game for a very long time and most immortals can't actually pinpoint a buzz. So he smiles at the barista, gives his and Peter's order, waits patiently while chatting with another customer about her adorable toddler, drops a five in the tip jar, and collects his two coffees, all without looking around like a fool.

He even smiles at the other immortal as he leaves in the middle of a crowd. The man looks middle-aged, though fit, of course. He's staring hard at everyone and can't even tell when Neal walks right past him. Young, then. Maybe a century, but probably not. He won't notice for a little while that Neal's buzz has faded, and he won't remember Neal.

Peter burns his mouth on the coffee and grumbles about it. Neal tries not to remember certain things and wonders how long that kid will last.
 

 

Title: Ask the aged why they weep
Fandom: Highlander
Disclaimer: not my characters
Warnings: future!fic
Pairings: none
Rating: PG
Wordcount: 265
Point of view: third
Prompt: Highlander, any, the Watchers tell stories about old Joe Dawson.


 

For some, Joe Dawson is what they aspire to be—a human, friends with an immortal. More than one immortal. The best of them all, some say, Duncan MacLeod of the Clan MacLeod. And the oldest, the one who fooled everyone, pretending to be a human, pretending to be young... Methos, who had muddled his own chronicle so thoroughly nobody could untangle what was lie and what was fact.

(Joe Dawson, they say, laughed, and said, aren't those the same thing? history's written by the victor, and no one is more victorious than the Old Man.)

But to some, Joe Dawson is an old shame—the Watcher who interfered. Who cared. Who changed things, and not for the better.

Who told an immortal about the Watchers. Treason, choosing a race of murderers over his own kind, and daring to say that Duncan was the best man he'd ever known.

Joe Dawson is an embarrassment and a blight, and should have been executed, not praised. Not lifted high in the annals of the Watchers as what all should strive to be, not just recorders of dry facts, who went where and who beat whom, but why and what the immortals felt, and what they believed.

And one day, two hundred years after the Purge of the Hunters, after Joe Dawson died of old age, surrounded by his daughter and a few of his own students and half a dozen immortals, a young researcher named Matt Adamson opens a very old book, donated to the Watchers by Joe Dawson, and begins to read words he'd written three millennia before.

 

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[tigriswolf]

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