drabbles: Star Trek and Supernatural

[tigriswolf]

Title: what a savage and beautiful country
Fandom: Star Trek reboot
Disclaimer: not my characters; title from Diane Ackerman
Warnings: pure fluff
Pairings: none
Rating: PG
Wordcount: 130
Point of view: third
Prompt: garish

 

 

This planet has no peacocks. Those are an Earth animal, and mostly extinct. This planet has a cat-like thing with ruffles on its neck and petals billowing from its tail. Its coat is vibrant, with primary and secondary colors, so bright it burns the eye to see.

 

Jim’s fallen in love, of course. Wants one as a pet, even though a foolhardy red-shirt showed they have venom in their fangs, and possibly their claws, as well.

 

“Jim, goddamnit!” Bones yells. “I’m a doctor, not a zookeeper!”

 

Sometimes he feels like one, though, corralling wild creatures that don’t know what to do for their own good.

 

“Note to self,” Bones mutters, stomping through orange and red brush to find his wayward captain, “after saving Jim’s life, kill him.”

Title: No one will speak for us
Fandom: Supernatural
Disclaimer: not my characters; title from Denise Levertov
Warnings: pre-series; spoilers for season 2
Pairings: none
Rating: PG
Wordcount: 430
Point of view: third
Prompt: punch

 

 

Ryan had taught history for eight years before Dean Simmons strutted into his class. The kid thought he was hot shit, God’s gift to women, and knew more than anyone else. Sarah said he did well in math and he was in Mona’s advanced physics, but he mouthed off in Cassie’s English class and always had a quip for the history lesson.

 

He also had a brother, apparently some sort of genius. Ryan figured that was where the insecurity stemmed from.

 

Three months after Dean transferred in, he missed an entire week. The little brother collected his homework and explained how sick Dean was, and he seemed more worried than the flu warranted. 

 

Dean came back with a limp, healing bruises on his face, and a broken arm. He tried to ward off the worry by giving free rein to his sarcasm, but Ryan spoke to Mona and she was angry. She promised to call CPS as soon as school let out, because the flu didn’t break bones or slap kids around.

 

Ryan convinced her to talk to Dean first. He didn’t act beaten down. Mona asked Dean to meet her after school for a few minutes and Ryan leaned against the desk, providing moral support.

 

Mona tried to subtly probe Dean about his homelife; no one at school had ever met his parents, even though he avoided trouble by the slimmest of margins. He’d showed up for his little brother’s parent-teacher conferences and all the permission slips looked suspiciously like Dean’s papers.

 

Dean stood in front of them and sighed, slumping down. “My dad doesn’t hit me,” he said tiredly, rubbing at his eyes. For the first time he looked like a kid—a bruised, scared kid. 

 

He straightened, shoring up all his walls and pulling the mask back in place. “Thanks for the concern,” he said, sarcastic brat to the hilt, “but it’s totally unfounded, Ms. H, Mr. G.” He smiled his brilliant I’m so awesome grin, and strutted out.

 

Ryan wasn’t surprised when Dean skipped the next day. Or the next. Then he heard the little brother didn’t show up, either, and knew they were gone for good.

 

He’d think about them sometimes, wonder what ever came of them. He figured Dean died young, but the little brother made it. Dean wouldn’t accept anything less.

 

He caught the news one night, about two brothers who held up a bank. The last name was wrong, but their faces…

 

“Shit,” he muttered.

 

He hoped Mona never learned what happened to the kids they’d failed to save.

Comments

[secretsolitaire.livejournal.com]

*grins at the Trek one*

[tigriswolf]

Thank you for reading!