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tigriswolfTitle: live while you can the merciful illusion
Fandom: Supernatural
Disclaimer: not my characters; title from C. Day-Lewis
Warnings: pre-series
Pairings: John/Mary
Rating: PG
Wordcount: 320
Point of view: third
Notes: for ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif){kind=small}
dodger_winslow
John is just off a two-week, labor-intensive, messy hurt, and he comes home to one sulking boy and another who’s furious.
He collapses on the couch with a deep, aching sigh. He’s still sore all over. And so tired. He really wants to crawl into bed, ignore both his teenagers, and sleep for a month and a half.
Sam’s brooding in the boys’ room; Dean is silently throwing together a supper of leftovers. John has no idea what happened between them, less of an idea how to fix it, and little inclination to try while they’re both being so stubborn.
Mary would’ve locked them in a room and not let them out until they’d made up. If John tried that, they’d unite against him. He could probably ignore the problem until it went away; given a little time, they usually come around.
“Dinner!” Dean calls. “Dad, you hungry?”
“Sam!” John hollers. “Come eat!”
Sam stomps into the kitchen, ignoring John and Dean both. He throws himself into the chair, crosses his arms, and scowls at the world.
John lumbers in, trying to work out the kinks in his spine. He hasn’t been this tired since Dean was a colicky baby.
Dean serves three plates; he gently sets John’s down in front of him, but slams down Sam’s.
John’s too tired to carry a conversation, so the meal is silent. Sam tries to storm out halfway through, but sits down (sulkily) off John’s look.
After supper, as Dean collects all three plates, John says, “I expect this to be done in the mornin’.” He fixes them both with glares. “Understand, boys? I don’t have the time or energy to deal with this crap, so work it out.”
He trudges down the hall, takes a long shower, and goes to bed.
(In the morning, Dean and Sam are laughing with each other again. John never does find out what the argument was about.)
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Title: a curse lifted falls elsewhere
Fandom: Supernatural
Disclaimer: not my characters; title from C. Day-Lewis
Warnings: preseries; spoilers for everything aired
Pairings: John/Mary
Rating: PG
Wordcount: 195
Point of view: third
Notes: for mercuryblue144
Mary Winchester has never fired a gun or recited a spell or salted and burned a corpse. Mary Winchester has never hunted a nightmare or been stalked in return.
Mary Winchester is the loving wife of a veteran who works twenty hours a week at a small boutique and raises two rambunctious boys.
There are no demons in Mary Winchester’s life. Her husband never learns the name Azazel. Neither of her sons go to Hell or break Seals or come face-to-face with angels.
Isn’t that the life you want? Crowley purrs. Make a deal.
Show me how it ends, she commands.
Crowley growls, but before she was Mary Winchester, she was a Campbell, and descended from the maker of The Colt. Crowley shows her how it ends.
World on fire. Oceans of blood. Death covering the Earth, Destruction in his wake.
No, she says, turning away. I’ll make no deal for my life.
Crowley scoffs, As you wish, and disappears.
John is asleep down the hall, Sam on his chest. Dean’s on the couch, tuckered out from a full day’s adventuring.
Mary will die in a week’s time, and she’ll never regret it.
-
Title: you’re listening for a song that I don’t know, that no one has yet sung
Fandom: Highlander/Glee
Disclaimer: not my characters; title from Denise Levertov
Warnings: AUish after “Born This Way” for Glee; post-series for Highlander; the timelines may not exactly match up—I *handwave* this away, as is my right as author
Pairings: Kurt/Blaine; (very) pre-Kurt/Puck
Rating: PG
Wordcount: 710
Point of view: third
Notes: for pprfaith
Burt Hummel hadn’t thought of his father-in-law in a long time. Not since Kaitlyn died, at least. They’d met twice, at the wedding and Kurt’s birth, and only Uncle Joe’s old stories explained away how young Call me Matt looked.
Knowing that Kaitlyn had been raised by an immortal explained a great deal about her. She accepted oddities out-of-hand, passed on three languages to Kurt with ease, and she told their boy, be anything you want to be, my love.
Kaitlyn’s father didn’t go to the funeral. Burt got a postcard and a large sum of money in his bank account, too much to ever spend. He used it mainly for Kurt’s clothes, and then Dalton.
He never talked about Kaitlyn’s family. Matt would have mentioned if Kurt was like him. Burt was pretty sure that Kurt knew his grandparents’ names (Matthew and Victoria Adamson), but no more. What Kurt didn’t know: Matt wasn’t Kaitlyn’s biological father. She was an infant when they married. And when Victoria died not long after (the same cancer that killed her daughter), Matt kept Kaitlyn and traveled the world with her. She was beautiful and cultured, and Burt never could figure out why she chose him, a guy who got out of Lima for one year of college before giving up to go home.
Kurt was so much like his mother.
So, yeah, Burt hadn’t thought of Matt in a decade when his father-in-law drove a piece of shit car into his garage.
“Sorry it’s been so long,” he said, leaning against the car. “There was some drama I had to deal with before I could visit.” There was a private meaning to the twist of his smile, but Burt didn’t even try to figure it out. Matt still looked like a college student, of course, only a few years older than Kurt. Like Burt could break him in two.
“How’s the kid?” he asked. “Should be sixteen, seventeen now, right?”
Burt straightened, growled, “You aren’t taking him.”
Matt scoffed. “Of course I’m not.” He rolled his eyes. “If I didn’t think you were a good father, I’d have grabbed him when Katie died.”
“Okay then,” Burt said. “Kurt’s been better.”
Matt’s sharp eyes studied Burt carefully, clearly assessing that. “I need to talk to both of you,” Matt told him quietly.
Burt almost thought he was having another heart-attack. “He can’t be like you,” he hissed, dragging Matt into the office. “Uncle Joe told me how it works: all immortals are foundlings. I was there for Kurt’s birth!”
Matt’s smile was sad. “That’s the story, Burt. Doesn’t make it true. Your son is your son, and he’s the son of a girl I loved like I’d sired her myself.” He reached out to clutch Burt’s shoulder. “Headhunters are forming gangs again. They will stalk and kill anyone they can. They’ll kill Katie’s boy to wake him up, and then take his head.”
Burt swallowed, somewhere between horror and rage. “What—what can I do, Matt?” he asked.
Matt smiled again, even sadder. “Telling him won’t help. But I’ll stay. I’ll be his teacher—self-defense, martial arts, whatever he needs. No immortal will enter this town without me knowing it.”
Uncle Joe had told Burt the legends of immortals. How most of them could fight, but almost all died young. Few lived to five hundred years. Fewer still lived to see a thousand.
The eyes looking at Burt were very old. Burt wouldn’t say the name, but he could think of no one better to watch over his son.
“Kurt had trouble with bullying,” Burt said. “I think someone from his mother’s family decided to visit and help him.”
Matt grinned. “Sounds perfect.”
They headed back to the car, hashed out the details. Kurt would stop in on the way home to remind Burt about his date with Blaine later that night. He’d probably either complain or praise something that happened in glee club, grumble about Karofsky, and order Burt to have a salad with supper.
Burt noticed when Matt lifted his head to watch the entrance; Finn’s friend with the mohawk sauntered in.
“’sup, Mr. H?” Mohawk called.
Matt looked at Burt and raised an eyebrow. “Another student, then,” he said.
Burt groaned.
continues here
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
Date: 2011-05-13 10:38 am (UTC)John has no idea what happened between them, less of an idea how to fix it, and little inclination to try while they’re both being so stubborn.
Sounds like our guy!
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Date: 2011-05-14 01:57 pm (UTC)re: you're listening for a song that I don't know, that no one has yet sung
Date: 2011-05-14 09:57 pm (UTC)Re: you're listening for a song that I don't know, that no one has yet sung
Date: 2011-05-15 10:38 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2011-05-15 07:39 am (UTC)I want more to this ;)
And yep, the Supernatural stories are great too *hugs John, and Mary* :D
(no subject)
Date: 2011-05-15 10:39 pm (UTC)Thanks for reading!
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