Friday, October 31, 2008

A Different (Another) Kind Of Mercy by Tina c. 2008


A light drizzle rained feeling on the pale, dead skin of a young vampire. A pile of freshly dug earth mixed to mud and dripped steadily over the still body. The boy’s human name had been Trevor Snow and he had been nineteen the night he had been bitten nearly two years before. Unlike normal humans, the body of one bitten by a vampire did not rot and decay at a quick rate. Sometimes it would take decades for the first signs to manifest.

Warm hands pried open the stiff mouth of the corpse, pink fingers pulling out a clove of garlic. The hands threw the garlic well beyond the confines of the small cemetery, then they reached down. A thin silver knife nailed the soul into the body that had housed it faithfully for so long was carefully extracted and tossed to the side.

Daniel H. Harris pulled himself out of the grave. In five minutes the vampire would re-awaken, hungry and alive. The thirty-year-old man wiped his hands on his faded blue jeans, adjusted his coat and walked calmly away.

Daniel let his troubled blue eyes focus on the grassy plots of the graveyard and then the indifferent gray of the sidewalk. In five minutes time he would be on a bus and halfway across the city. He had saved a soul from eternal captivity and in several hours time he would find another graveyard and another vampire to free. Daniel Harris was a Reformer.

The Reformers had started off as a group of three humans against cruelty to paranormal creatures. Their protests had started small, slowly building momentum as the number of their followers increased over there years. Now they were several thousand strong, although they worked hard to remain under the radar.

Wednesday, October 29, 2008

Angels AND Love by Ebbtide

SUMMARY: Dastiel. Castiel interrupts Dean "getting some" from a barfly. Rated M. AU. SPOILERS SEASON FOUR!!! You've been warned. ;). :D. Enjoy!!

She had smiled at him. Sure there had been a nod here, a smirk there and maybe an inferring hand movement somewhere in between. Dean Winchester gestured towards the girl at the bar.

“I’ve got some extra circular stuff to take care of, Sammy. I’ll see you at the hotel in a few.” He stood, running a hand over his rumbled blue button up shirt. “Don’t wait up for me.”

Sam Winchester chuckled dryly. “Play hard to get, little buddy.”

“Little buddy?”

Sam stood to his feet, stretching to make himself appear to tower even further over his shorter brother. “Yep.” The dark haired man smiled.

Sam sent one last cautionary glance around the bar before he left. He did not sense anything out of the ordinary and none of his well-honed survival instincts were blaring alarms. Dean would be fine by himself for a few hours. Besides, it had been a long week and Sam really wanted to get some sleep.

Dean walked over to the bar, nudging up next to the hot woman who had been giving him eyes all night long. She smiled coyly up at him through thick, dark lashes.

“Hey.” He greeted her in a husky tone.

Her grin widened, showing off perfect teeth. “Hey.”

The noise of the bar faded into the background as Dean felt himself fill with lust for the woman looking up at him with those sparkling blue eyes. He swallowed hard, he would have to do some quick talking because the backseat of his car was more than calling his name - it was freakin’ yelling!



Sam closed the door to his hotel room a weary sigh breaking through the fog in his mind as he stumbled towards the bed. He was so very tired it took almost too much effort to kick off his shoes and unbutton his shirt. As for the rest of his clothes, he would worry about undressing in the morning. His eyes were closed before he hit the mattress.


Dean would have given the Impala’s left front tire for a hotel room. He would have asked Sam to give him a few hours, but he had known just how exhausted his younger brother had been that night. The last thing Dean wanted to do was ‘defile’ the backseat of the car with some random chick, but every man had needs.

The windows were sufficiently fogged, even though that barely mattered since he had driven them to a very secluded area off a dirt road near the bar. The woman was shrugging out of her heavy sweater top, Dean’s eyes bugged a little at the sight of a skin tight spaghetti strap underneath covering large breasts. He grinned like a kid in a candy store. He was ready to have some fun and relax.

“My name’s Dean.” He wanted to get the necessary stuff out of the way. He started to unbutton his shirt but the woman closed her hand over his.

“Let me do that…Dean.” Her voice was breathy, Dean had to force his body not react to it. “My name is Sandy.”

“S-Sandy, that’s ni-ice.” He stuttered as her hands roamed under his shirt and down his chest.

He let his eyes close, reveling in the first sexual contact since Hell. It was all he could do not to take her right there and then, but he wanted the experience to go on for as long as possible. Life seemed determined not to give him a happy ending and he would fight tooth and nail to feel at least some release from the stress of his job.


“This is stupid.” Uriel announced in irritation. “Playing watch guard while a human gets off with another human. I may be sick.”

Castiel rolled his bright blue eyes, his host breathing out visible clouds of breath into the cold night air. He watched the Impala parked a few yards away, it was beginning to sway and primal noises could be easily heard. He shifted his shoulders under the thick, brown coat. Uriel was right, this was stupid….but necessary.

“We don’t know when Lilith might attack, we just know that she will.” He said aloud.

“Huh.” Uriel muttered in discontent. “I still say we end this love making before it progresses any further. The safest place Dean Winchester can be is at the hotel. Letting him indulge in these lustful acts will only put him in further jeopardy. You know that I’m right.”

Castiel exchanged a glance with the dark brown eyes of Uriel’s host.

“Fine, but I will be the one to break this up.” Castiel’s tone left no room for argument.

He knew how insensitive Uriel’s social skills were - rusty would be the perfect term. The last thing Dean Winchester, or the angels, needed was a frightened human woman on their hands. He would just have to handle this delicately. Footsteps crunching on the damp gravel, Castiel walked over to the car, a blush rising on his cheeks as the sounds grew louder and more pronounced. He reached the Impala and lightly tapped on the window.

“God! Dean!”

He tapped harder on the window. The rocking stopped. There was a long pause, the whisper of voices and then a squeaking noise as the window was wiped clear with a sweaty palm. Dean stared out at the angel in incomprehension.

“No way.” The hunter mumbled in disbelief.


Dean felt more than a little angry, confused and frightened. Why was Castiel there of all places? Had something happened to Sam? Had the angel sensed a demon? Were they in danger? Before Dean had a chance to voice any of these questions the door opened and Castiel addressed the naked woman.

“I think you should go now.”

Sandy dressed quickly and refused the ride Dean offered, preferring to walk away with as much dignity as she could muster. Dean watched the woman fade into the darkness in the direction of the bar. He ran a hand over his face, unable to believe that his love making had just been interrupted by an angel.

“This is ridiculous.”

“You need to get back to the hotel, Dean. It isn’t safe here.” Castiel said.

Dean stared mournfully out the front windshield. “What’s the point of being brought back to life if every time I’m about to get some…… anti-cupid interrupts?” He glared up at the angel. “I got needs, you know.”

“They will have to wait.”

“Until what?” Dean’s voice grew slightly desperate. “Until the world ends because we’ve failed and then it’s too late!? Is that what it’s going to take?”

“You’re being overly dramatic.”

“And just what the hell do you call what you just did? Anti-climatic?” Dean winced and zipped up his jeans. “’Cause that’s sure the way it feels.”

Castiel frowned. “Go back to the hotel.”

“Fine.” Dean ground out. “But don’t come looking to me when YOU need help getting laid.” He paused a moment. “Angels do…do it, don’t they?”

Castiel’s expression remained neutral. “THE HOTEL.” He enunciated each word carefully.

Dean threw a harsh glare at the angel, his irritation reaching new heights, and he slammed the door closed. He started the car and put it into drive.

“Fine.” He muttered to himself. “ I’ll go to the stupid hotel with the stupid TV and watch some stupid PORN!” He yelled the last towards where the angel stood watching. With a shake of his head, Dean turned the car around and drove back to their hotel.


THE END. Lol. :P.

Get Out Of The Pit Card

Get Out of Hell Card

Tuesday, October 28, 2008


In Remembrance of Me
By Ebbtide

Cold, green eyes were locked in an eternal stare of fear and panic. Forever destined to portray the last emotions of their host. The green was infused with a softening gold, tingeing the soul’s windows with equal parts sadness and regret. Dean Winchester was dead and buried. His eyes forever frozen beneath bloodless lids.

Perhaps forever was too strong a word.


Six Months Later…

“Come on, Dean.” Sam taunted his older brother with a giant grin. “You know that you want to.”

“Give it back!” Dean gritted out between clenched teeth. “I’m not joking around, give it back and lets get the hell out of this place!” His voice had risen an octave by the end.

A nearby group of children exchanged frightened whispers before hurrying away at a quick pace. Dean grimaced and ran a hand through his short blond hair.

“Look at what you’ve done!” The elder brother motioned in the direction of the retreating children. “That’s just peachy. Now I’m the Grinch.”

Long, dark bangs fell over wide, hazel eyes. “I’m sorry. Here, Dean.” Sam extended his hand and opened it to reveal Dean’s cell phone. “You going to call her?”

“No.” Dean snatched the cell phone. “Now drop it.”

Sam raised his hands in defeat. “Fine, but you’re going to regret it.”

“Drop it.”

Sam sighed heavily and looked away, shaking his head. “Alright. I’ll drop it. I’m going to go wait in the car.”

“You do that.” Dean balled his hands into fists, trying to find an outlet for the tension that had been building up inside of him. How could Sam not understand that things had changed. Forever.

He watched his brother walk out of the front door of the building. A sadness engulfed him, threatening to drown him in it’s darkness and despair. With months of hell to sort through, his emotions were all screwed up.

It was not Sam’s fault, he knew that, but at the same time he wished that there was a way to make his brother understand the pain he felt inside. He had died in hell. Pieces of his soul being torn apart, swept off in a whirl of savage attacks. Demons loved to torture and there had been so many demons in hell. Their sulfur smiles bleeding the hope out of him slowly.

It had been hell.

A knot formed in his throat and Dean looked around for some place to escape to before the he lost what little composure he had left. He spied a bathroom off in the corner and made a b-line through the crowds of talking people.

Once inside, he closed and locked the door, leaning his head against it. His shoulders slumped, a deep hurt beginning in his stomach and clawing it’s way up his throat before escaping in a sob. Shoulders shaking, Dean let his body slide down the door until he sat, curled on the floor silently acknowledging the loss. A loss he would now and forever mourn. Loss of an innocence he only appreciated after it had been taken.

“Sammy.” His hoarse whisper spoke of all the regrets, doubts, fears and brotherly love he could never voice while in the presence of the younger man.

Dean would die again and go back to that place of endless despair if it would save Sam from a dark ending. Tears streaked down his cheeks in rivers of growing anger. Life had thrown down a perfect hand of cards and Dean was left paying a dept he could not afford. To gamble with his own life was a risk of the job, but to gamble with Sam’s life. Dean covered his face with his hands in shame.

Sam had gotten a chance, one chance, to make a normal life away from all the heartache of the Hunter lifestyle. Dean had literally dragged him back into the supernatural world, shooting down the only normality his brother had ever experienced. Dean could kill himself. A numb grayness edged his vision and he stared blankly down at the dirty bathroom floor.

A feather light brush of air, the approach of footsteps. Dean found himself wishing for it to be a demon, someone to end this torment once and for all. Maybe he should have gave into their dark influences tainting everything in hell, but Dean had held out - for Sammy he had remained human. It had been so hard to gather those broken pieces of soul and hold them tight against his chest, fighting to keep at bay the hands that had tried so passionately to tear them away.

Four months in hell was like forty years. Dean could still feel the heat burning flesh off his bones.

A cool hand touched his cheek. He looked up with fear glazed eyes and found himself staring into the face of an angel. Castiel, god’s warrior from heaven, stood over him with a sad smile shinning down at the hunter.


Castiel smiled at the human warrior shivering at his feet, a sadness gripping his heart. Dean Winchester was crying, his pain almost physically present as Castiel reached deep inside himself and extracted a wave of calm and peace. He reached down and touched a cool hand to the man’s cheek, closing his eyes he let the soothing emotions he had mined travel through himself and into Dean Winchester.

The man sighed, his tired green eyes closing in relief.

“Thank you.” Dean’s voice was harsh, but his words rang sincere. “I don’t know what you just did, but thank you.”

Castiel straightened, taking a few steps away. He kept his blue gaze fastened on the Winchester, he wanted to do more than dull the pain, but god had a very specific plan.

“You are welcome.” Castiel prepared to leap into another place and time, he had another mission to complete, an urgent one calling to him, but still he hesitated a moment. Dean needed reassurance. “You are not alone, Dean. Pray and god will hear you.”

“I doubt I’ll catch him at home.” Dean joked weakly, almost too emotionally spent to give the bravado a go. “But I guess a heavenly memo will have to do.”

“I will be back, Dean.” Castiel promised before slipping into thin air.

Dean felt his heartbeat, slowly thumping against his chest in a reassuring rhythm of promise and hope. He had no clue what that angel had done to him, but all of his fears and doubts had receded with that one simple touch.

Maybe forever was not so long after all.


Saturday, October 25, 2008

Camp Mivoden 2008 Women's Retreat.

Friday, October 24, 2008


Question Mark
By Ebbtide

A hand, burned hot-red into his skin, had left behind traces - a new question mark in his world built of ignorance and mysteries. He found a beautiful symmetry in the new life, this second chance. Saved from the bowels of hell by an angel of god. A sinner reborn by grace.

Poetry had nothing on Dean Winchester.

A low rumble shook the hunter’s chest, a cough working it’s way through his body. Sam was out of the hotel buying cough-drops and other essentials they were running low on. The blonde man groped blindly at the beside table, his eyes closed to the room’s low light, in search of a half-full glass he had placed there earlier. Wrapping his hand around the cool glass, he brought it to his dry lips and took a small sip.

Dean hated being sick. He hated to admit that on occasion he needed help surviving the normal parts of life. It made him feel like a wuss, times like these. He couldn’t even keep down a slice of heavenly pie. He frowned.

There was a slight rustling noise to his left accompanied by a whiff of frigid air.

“How are you?”

“What do you care?” Dean peeked up at the angelic visitor through a hooded green eye. “Can you snap your fingers and heal me? Don’t answer that!” He added quickly.

Dean felt his head begin to throb in congestion fueled discomfort. He clumsily grabbed a Kleenex from the box on his bed and blew his nose. Loudly. Maybe the angel would get a clue and leave. Dean kept his eyes closed, breathing in deeply once his nasal passages were clear.

“You still there, buddy?” He asked after a few moments of dead silence.

“How are you feeling?”

Under closed lids, Dean rolled his eyes. “Peachy.” The man grumbled. “I’m the freaking belle of the ball.”

There was the soft approach of footsteps and Dean tensed as he sensed the presence of Castiel lean over the bed.

“I’m not going to hurt you, Dean.” Castiel’s soft, strong tone made Dean relax involuntarily.

“Yeah?” Dean let his voice harden. “How can I be so sure?”

“You’ll just have to have faith.”

Dean coughed.

“This is most unfortunate. I need you ready to fight. The battle field draws closer and closer each day.” Frustration entered the angel’s voice for the very first time. “But I am not authorized to heal you. There are rules.”

Dean smirked through another harsh cough.

“Hands tied, big guy? Well, that’s too bad. Sorry to mess up your party plans.”

“You will be better soon, Dean. I do not sense a lasting illness in your body.”

Dean adjusted the pillow under his head, moving to a more comfortable position on his side.

“Whatever you say, sparky.” He mumbled.


Castiel looked down at the human. He felt a curiosity burn through his thoughts, begging the cool relief of an honest answer. He was hesitant to speak aloud the subject that was stuck in his mind.
Over two thousand years of watching - not directly interfering with - the human world had left him feeling curious, torn, disappointed and disgusted. He prayed for guidance before opening his hosts mouth, humans were so hard to read sometimes. He would need more practice if he was to connect with Dean Winchester.

“How can you mock the Lord?” There, he had said it. The question that had haunted him throughout his tine on Earth.

Dean chuckled dryly. “Is this the fire and brimstone episode, preacher-man?” He asked.

Castiel took a step backwards at the flippant response to his earnest query. His mouth turned down in a frown. His brilliant blue eyes clouded. He would try one more time.

“Please, I would like to know…to understand.” The human world was still such a mystery.

“Nah, you don’t want that.”

“I think I do.”


Dean stiffened, his eyes widening a margin in fear at the irritation that bled into Castiel’s words. The hunter had learned the hard way to trust no one. Especially powerful figures claiming a story too good to be true. He knew the angel had the ability to do almost anything imaginable - he could bend time! - but that was no reason for Dean to make it easy. He did not trust the angel and he was not in the mood to be liberal with his feelings.

“Why do you want to know so bad?”

“Call me curious.” Castiel replied, shifting his weight from one foot to the other.

Dean grinned, a genuine humor infusing itself with his next statement. “Oh, I can call you lots of things, but since you asked nicely…” He let his words trail off into a dry chuckle.

“I see that you will not be answering my question.” Castiel paused for a brief moment. “Fine, I will leave you. Do not be afraid, Dean, you will be made well soon.”

“Because god’s watching over me?” Dean asked bitterly.


“Protecting his investment?”


Dean coughed, long and hard.

“Bang up job he’s doing so far.”

“I’ll be seeing you around, Dean.” The angel turned away.

Dean looked up then, his green eyes studying the angel in masked surprise. During all of their interactions, the heavenly creature had never once said anything resembling a greeting or a goodbye. He would just appear and disappear in his own time. The Winchester boy felt a little guilty for being such a smart alec. He had been essentially nipping at the hand that had freely fed him a new chance at life.

Dean cleared his throat loudly. “Wait!”

Castiel glanced over his shoulder at the man lying on the bed. One dark eyebrow rose in question. Dean took a deep breath and then spoke honestly.

“It’s easy. To mock the Lord.” Dean began, trying to find the right words to explain. He looked up, meeting Castiel’s intense gaze. “I was raised to believe in the tangible, the…” He grinned softly. “The corporeal. I was taught to only believe in those things which can be seen, experienced and proven. To me god does not exist. How can you offend what doesn’t exist?”

Castiel clenched his jaw. His brothers and he had watched the Winchester family from afar, their importance never underestimated. Over the years Castiel had seen John Winchester teach his boys many immoral ways. The truth of just how much their father was inside each of their characters, attitudes and actions surprised the angel. He had thought humans much more independent than that.

“What, no response?” Dean asked with a cocky half-grin.

Castiel bowed his head. “Thank you. I must go now.”

Dean waved a hand towards the door, coughing again.

“Hey, don’t let me keep you.” He blew his nose again and then continued. “After all, I’m sure that you have so many lost souls to save and …”

Castiel was gone.

Dean groaned and closed his eyes tightly, rolling over in the bed. “Angels!” He muttered in exasperation.


Monday, October 20, 2008

Peace, Out!

Saturday, October 18, 2008


“How’s your brother going to feel when he knows you’re going to hell. How’d you feel when your dad went for you?”

Dean Winchester jerked awake, tremors running through his sweat-soaked body. A nightmare. It had only been a nightmare. He swallowed hard and ran a hand over his face.

A quick glance to his left showed that his younger brother was still asleep.

He pulled the covers back and swung his legs over the edge of the bed. Bobby Singer’s haunting words echoed through his mind, sending all possibility of sleep into the future. He sighed softly and scratched his head unsure of what exactly had brought on this new and unwelcome nightmare.

Sam had been having a moody day. Dean had noticed, decided it was not worth the effort of mentioning and then promptly fell into a cycle of worry and concern that always followed on the heels of Sam’s brooding moments. Rain began to fall softly against the hotel room window and Dean remembered leaving the driver’s side window of his car down a few inches. The Impala came before sleep - and anyway, he needed a distraction. He got to his feet.

Throwing on a jacket over his T-shirt and briefs, the lean man quietly let himself out of the room. He sighed, a little louder and longer, once outside in the warm night air. The raindrops were tiny pricks of respite from the sweltering heat and he hoped that it would continue into the next day. Hunting in hundred degree weather was anything but fun, especially when the car being driven in had leather seats. He had a sunburn that would be tan by the next afternoon. At least the discomfort had reaped a reward.

Rolling up the car window Dean decided to take a quick stroll around the building to ease his tired, sore muscles. The fact that he was not even wearing pants did not bother the young man. He knew that no one was around and all of the nearby lights had either burnt out or had been broken. This alerted him to the possibility of danger, but he needed the walk.

Tired, weary legs propelled him slowly down the cement sidewalk that skirted around all four sides of the hotel building. He stuck to the shadows, moving stealthily enough not to get noticed by any standard passerby should any be encountered. He thought of Sam.

“How’s your brother going to feel when he knows you’re going to hell. How’d you feel when your dad went for you?”

Those words had not haunted him before tonight and he needed to know why they suddenly would not be silenced. His brow furrowed, Dean Winchester thought back to the night he had talked - so disheartened - to the cold corpse of his younger brother. A mouthful of vomit pushed its way up his throat and he swallowed hard to ward off the nausea.

He could still see that unmoving form, his gaze grew distant and he lost track of time. Dean let his body take over and in an automatic haze of putting one foot in front of the other his mind wandered. Sam had deserved to live, he would never regret what he had needed to do a year before.

Sure, his last few days were weighing heavily on his mind. He had less than two weeks to live, that would weigh heavy on anyone, he figured dryly. For Sam, he would endure anything hell could send his way. Those evil bastards were not going to get the pleasure of watching him live in agony without his brother - no, he had made the right choice selling his soul.

Confident in his decision once again, Dean squared his shoulders and lifted his chin. No nightmare was going to cheat him out of what could possibly be the last nights sleep he ever got. An irony tinged grin stretched across his face. What was causing the nightmare no longer mattered - the nightmare itself no longer mattered. All Dean Winchester needed was a good nights sleep and then some quality time with his brother. That was what being a big brother was all about. Letting go of ones own problems in order to focus on creating peace and happiness in a younger siblings life. As much as was possible, anyway. For Sam, Dean was unsure of just how much good he could do before his death. However, he was determined to try.


Sam woke up the next morning to find his brother sipping coffee and reading a newspaper, illuminated by a bright beam of sunlight snaking through the partially closed curtains.

“You going to let me sleep all day?” Sam asked in surprised and consternation when he looked at the bedside clock. It read seven o’clock a.m. and he knew for a fact that he had set the alarm for five. “Did you turn the alarm off?”

Dean looked up, taking another sip of coffee. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Sam gave his older brother a suspicious once over. “Uh, huh. Sure you don’t.”

Dean just shrugged and returned to his paper.


Dean knew he should not have let Sam sleep in. The younger Winchester was practically neurotic when it came to getting out on the road in the early hours. It always bugged Dean that Sam used the excuse of it being a less traffic congested time of the day when it was not even Sam who drove the car. For one day, Dean decided that he would let his brother sleep later and maybe he could even get them into a restaurant. He was tired of eating food on the road.

“Breakfast in five.” He announced.

Sam raised a surprised eyebrow. “You bought breakfast?”

Dean folded the newspaper and put it down, draining his cup of coffee in one swig. “Nope!” He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “We’re going down the road. I saw a restaurant.”

Sam smirked. “You are joking, right? We have a hunt…three towns over. We don’t have time for this.” His eyes clouded. “People’s lives depend on us, Dean.”

The older man felt his hopes for the day sink below the incoming tide of his brothers guilt trip. All he had wanted to do was make today a good day for his little brother. Was that so much to ask? Was that too hard a dying wish for the fates to muster? He shook his head firmly.

“They can wait. We’re doing this, come on.” He stood, throwing his coat over one shoulder.

“Alright. Just let me get dressed.” Sam consented once he realized that Dean was serious. “Give me a minute.”

“I’ll be waiting in the car, Princess.”

“Bite me.”

“Watch it.”

Sam shook his head and watched his brother leave the room. Once the door had closed, Sam frowned. He felt anger growing inside of him, clawing to be let out into his conscious slate of emotions, but he repressed the feeling. Dean was only being Dean after all, nothing to get upset over. With a heavy sigh the dark haired man began to dress.

It would be a long day if Dean’s current attitude was any meter to judge by.


Dean sat in the booth, waiting for his order and staring in wonder at his younger brother. He could still be amazed, after all these years and all his eyes had seen. A grin cracked the gloomy expression that covered his brother’s face. Sam laughed nervously.

“What are you looking at, Dean? Dean?” When there was no reply Sam leaned forward. “What is it?”

The younger man did not like the strange, unidentifiable look on his brother’s face. Dean was still staring at the dark haired man in wonder. A revelation had been bourn by his heart and then born seconds before as they had sat chatting about the weather.

Sam was not a hunter.

In all the years that they had grown up together it had never, not once, occurred to Dean that maybe the lifestyle was not something his brother could handle. Now, he knew for sure that this was the case. He had saved his brother’s life. That life was not what his brother desired. Yet, over the past year Sam had done everything in his power to help Dean reverse the deal. He had fought so hard.

“Dude, what?”

Dean shook his head, finally breaking out of the spell that had been cast over him. A deep sadness replaced the feeling of awe. His brother deserved to be saved from this life even more than the next. He knew there was not enough time for him to do that - not again. He tried to smile nonchalantly, but instead it ended up as a grimace.

“Nothing, man.” Dean replied finally, his voice tight. “Just.” He cleared his throat. “Just thinking, that’s all.”


Sam shifted uncomfortably. He had no idea what his brother had been ‘just thinking’ minutes before but it made him feel very uneasy. He was relieved when their order was brought to the table and placed before them.

“Looks good.”

“Sure does and this beats eating in the car any day.” Dean smiled wide, his eyes lighting up. “Dig in, Sammy.”

After a meal overseen by awkward small talk and silence they left the restaurant.

“Thank you.” Sam said as they walked out the front door. Dean’s only response was a bittersweet smile.


“What you did was selfish.”
“Yeah, you’re right. It was selfish, but you know, I’m okay with that.”

Sam Winchester opened his eyes and was surprised to find tears spilling over his lashes like water through a broken dam. He reached up to wipe the dampness away in the wake of his latest nightmare. He glanced over to the bed on his right and let out a tiny breath of relief when he saw that Dean was still fast asleep, drooling onto his pillow and mumbling about pie.

A soft smile was overturned by the continuation of his tears. Crying was not something that he indulged in on a regular basis, but sometimes there was no helping it. Sam decided that he could use some fresh air and with one last glance at Dean’s sleeping form he quietly let himself out of the hotel room.

The night air was cool and refreshing. Sam breathed in deep and then exhaled slowly, letting his nightmare shrink back into the recesses of his mind where it belonged. That fight with Dean had been a mile marker in the long year since the deal had been made. A year filled with darkness and pain. A year about to end.

One week to go. Their latest hunt had been an overwhelming success and on the eve of their next battle Dean had rented them a couple of hookers for the night. Sam chuckled sadly at his own horrified reaction. Not that he did not want a girl every now and then it had just been a little too cold and impersonal. The four of them had ended up chowing on pizza, beer and chips. A rocking radio station had also lent the option of dancing to the boys. Overall it had been an unexpectedly fun and relaxing night.

The hookers had went their way three hours before. Sam still was not sure what had brought on the nightmare, but it did not really matter. Dean and he had worked through that little spat months ago. Now Sam was focused entirely on saving his brother - and as many other people - as he possibly could. It was a new mission, a new lifestyle. Saving people.

“After everything I’ve done for this family, I think I’m entitled.”
“I’m tired, Sam.”

Sam ran a hand over his face, wiping at his eyes with his shirtsleeve. Dean had given so much over the years and sometimes Sam forgot that. A lot of times, to be honest with himself. He would forget that while he was a young, rebellious tween who only wanted answers, Dean had been faced with the challenge of raising him in an unstable environment, unable or unwilling to give the answers that would later be the ruination of Sam. It was a twisted life they had lead, but Dean had seen to it that Sam had the option of becoming something better, something more.

Law school would have been impossible if not for all of the long nights during high school, the two brothers alone in their hotel room worrying about their father, when Dean had spent hours helping him with homework. It never really hit Sam before just how much of a father Dean had been for him. The elder Winchester brother had been a parent, a best friend and a model older brother. Now, he was a hunting partner. Sam let sobs shake his body as anguish spilled over the confines of his heart and tainted his soul. He was the reason his brother would die.

“You save me over and over. You give up everything for me, don’t you think that I would do that same for you?”

Sam could still see the shock, the incomprehension on his older brother’s face on that cold night a year before when he had learned about the deal. Had Dean really not understood just how much he was worth in the younger Winchester’s eyes? Could it really be that after everything he had done, Dean still felt like he had failed somehow? Sam shook his head, pain shaking his body until he could barely suck in enough breath to fill his lungs. He hugged himself in the darkness, wishing it all away.

It had torn both of their lives apart. It had forced them into this life. It would not let them go in peace. It was Fate.

A warm night breeze fingered through the long dark bangs dampened by the falling tears. Sam brushed them away with a sniffle and turned his back to the hotel. He needed to be someplace safe and alone. The Impala.


Dean awoke the next morning and instantly fell into a state of panic. Sam’s bed was rumpled and empty. He checked the bathroom and it to was deserted. Fear made him check that the floor was, indeed, still supporting him. It felt like he was falling in a deep, dark pit.


He pulled on some clothes and ran to the door, radiant rays of sunshine blinding him for a moment when he opened it. His eyes adjusted to the morning light and he started scanning the surroundings for any sign of his brother. No tall, lank form. No dark mop of long hair. No boyish grin, no brooding frown. He could not see his brother anywhere.

Dean felt his heart race as his breath came in shorter and shorter bursts.


Fumbling in his pocket for the Impala’s keys, Dean raced for the car ready to start an all-out manhunt for his little brother. He jerked open the door and froze, stunned to find Sam Winchester asleep, lying across the front seat of the car.

Dean stumbled over to the curb and sank to the ground. His legs were shaking from the adrenaline and after a moment he giggled in disbelief at his own reaction. It was not unusual for Sam to be out getting breakfast in the mornings. The fact that he had freaked out so spectacularly left him wondering at his own sanity.

He had left the car door wide open and the cooler air woke Sam. He groaned and sat up in the seat, his eyes drawn to the sight of his older brother losing it on the sidewalk a few feet away. Sam lost no time scooting out of the car, he shut the door.

“Dean, you alright?” He squatted down in front of the older man until he was eyelevel. “You with me, buddy?”

Dean looked up at him.

“I’m fine, Sam. Just thought I’d lost something.” He turned his head. “It’s not important.”

Sam’s brow furrowed in confusion and then he grimaced. His neck had gotten a nasty crick in it from the night of sleeping in the car. Sam could not remember falling asleep, but at least he felt more rested than he had in a long time. No more nightmares had kept him awake - maybe he should sleep in the car more often, Sam thought.

“What did you lose?” He asked his obviously distraught older brother.

Dean laughed, a self-deprecating sound. “Nothing. Everything’s alright now, Sammy.” He patted his brother’s shoulder reassuring. “It’s all good.”

Sam was not convinced, but he decided to let it slide.


They were driving down an anonymous road on the way to the next hunt, the next meaningful moment in their lives. A heavy silence filled the cab as both boys drifted off into thoughts of their own problems.

Dean figured he would hit the next burger joint they came across. He wanted as many American cheeseburgers as possible before Hell took even that little bit of goodness away.

Sam tried to figure out how to broach the subject that had sent him into such a depressed state the night before. He needed Dean to know that he understood now, that he appreciated everything the older Winchester had done for him over the years.


Both began at the same moment in the same somber tone. Sam blinked. Dean had sounded so serious. What if his brother knew what he had been thinking. Sam waved a hand.

“You first.” Sam said, hoping that his brother would broach the muddled subject of feelings.

Dean cleared his throat and shifted in his seat, his hands opening and closing around the steering wheel.

“I was just wondering what you wanted to eat, I’m stopping at the next burger place. You hungry?”

Sam blinked rapidly again, this time in unexpected surprise. Out of all the questions his brother could have uttered, that was the least expected although the most likely to be spoken. Sam chuckled lightly at his own squeamishness when it came to conversations involving apologies and regrets.

“Nothing, man, I’m good.” His smile remained as the younger man treaded into unknown territory. “By the way, I just wanted to let you know that I appreciate you. As a big brother and as a friend. Everything you do for me, well, it’s just - thank you. You do so much for me, always have and over the years I guess that I‘ve just come to take it for granted. All those years where you were raising me more than dad was…well, I never really thought of those times as a blessing or anything. Quite the opposite, actually. I thought that you were trying to control me or make me into some hunter. I never stopped to think that you were doing so much more than you ever needed to - I really appreciate all of the time you sacrificed to take care of me and guide me. And thank you for teaching me math.”

Okay, that could have gone a lot better, Sam though with an inward grimace. He had just sort of blurted out all the things he was feeling in an incoherent rush of words. Dean gave him a long, thoughtful glance before turning his attention to the road.

“That’s nice, man.” Dean said finally.

Sam waited. Surely his brother would have more to say than that after such a heartfelt, long-awaited revelation. Nothing. He felt a blush creeping up his neck. What had he been thinking? ‘And thank you for teaching me math’. Sam felt like kicking himself, where had THAT come from.

“I never knew you felt that way.” Dean said so softly that Sam almost did not pick up the words. “I never knew you understood.”

Sam wanted to tell his brother that he had not understood, not really, until the night before. Somewhere in his throat the words refused to form. He looked sideways at the profile of his brother. That man who had been there for him through everything. When he had lost his first tooth, lost his first girlfriend and lost his life. This man who over the years had grown into a hardened, stoic ghost of his former self - hidden safely behind years of painful experiences. Sam reached over and gripped his brother’s shoulder in place of the hug he wanted to desperately to give.

“I didn’t understand, Dean.” He whispered back in a low, thick voice. “But I do now.”


Wednesday, October 15, 2008

The haunting, fog enriched night circled around Tamlina a cold hurricane of colors and sounds as the young woman skirted her way around the front of her parent’s home, her eyes scouting the darkness for any signs of danger. It had become a life-saving habit.

Outside the scope of her trained senses, a form lurked in the dark.

She could already smell the home-made dinner waiting for her inside the house and with one last glance about the neighbor hood Tamlina sprinted up the steps and into the house. Inside the warm, cozy atmosphere helped her to shake off the somber attitude that always followed a slaying. She had extinguished a life - an undead life, but a life all the same. The young woman was acutely aware of just what she was doing, what she was ending, each and every time she chose to stab a silver blade into the cold flesh of a some poor victim of nature’s cruel ways.

Through the night, piercing eyes spied her every movement. A soft growl emitted a fog of breath into the cold air.

She shrugged out of her jacket and threw it on a living room chair as she made her way through to the dining area. Her two younger brothers, the twins Jared and Jensen, were already chatting loudly as they served their own plates of cold turkey sandwiches and gravy-covered mashed potatoes. Mr. and Mrs. Gray were seated at either end of the table and they both followed Tamlina with solemn eyes as she sat in her accustomed seat.

“How did it go?” Mr. Gray asked, his honest blue eyes filled with unspoken concern.

Tamlina avoided his gaze. “Fine, Dad. It went fine.”

“Are you alright, honey?” Tamlina’s mother asked, her golden eyes wide.

Tamlina squirmed under their attentive gazes, a cloud of irritation falling over her expression. She hated the overprotective qualities so apparent in her parents.

“I’m fine. Everything is fine.” She reassured them both with a forced smile. “Can we just eat, please.”

“Of course, honey.” Mrs. Gray said, passing a bowl of steaming rolls to her daughter.

Tamlina filled her plate with the delicious food. She avoided meeting her parents gaze and instead turned her attention to Jared and Jensen. The two young twins were always getting into some kind of trouble and she tried to stay abreast of their latest schemes. The last thing she wanted was for either of them to get hurt and both her parents and she worked hard to keep them safe.

“What have you two been up to?” Tamlina asked.

Jared and Jensen exchanged smiles. Their matching green eyes lit up with mischievous delight.

“We are going to -.”
“Compete in the science fair!”

Tamlina laughed softly at their enthusiasm. “Is that so?”

“Uh, huh!”

“What project are you planning?” Mrs. Gray asked.

“We’re making -”
“A volcano!”

“Really?” Mr. Gray’s eyebrows rose at the excited announcement. “I don’t know boys.” He continued. “Doesn’t that sound a little too…destructive?”

Mrs. Gray shot her husband a bemused grin. “Don’t you mean messy, dear?”

He chuckled. “Yes. I guess that I do.”

Tamlina frowned. She hated it when her parents adopted this light, atmosphere around her brothers. They needed reassurance, sure, but they also needed to b aware that at any moment the world could go very wrong. They could not be cajoled into complacency. She stared down at her cooling food, suddenly no longer hungry.

“I think I’ll go up to my room.”

“Is everything okay, Tam?”
“Are you okay, Tam?”

The young woman gave each of the twins a wan smile. “Of course.”

Her parents knew where she stood on the subject so she did not feel compelled to state her annoyance. Instead, she politely excused herself and walked upstairs to her bedroom. Once inside she closed the door, only then relaxing a fraction. Tamlina knew better than to ever let her guard down, even inside her own home, but in her room she felt secure enough to sleep. That was saying a lot.

Pentagrams, holy symbols, holy artifacts, knives of a multitude of varieties as well as a myriad other protection measures had been stored in carefully concealed places around her room. To an outsider, all that her bedroom housed was an over abundance of pink, fluffy pillows and stuffed animals, but for her family and herself, Tamlina had created a battle trench. Capable of warding off the enemy indefinitely.

Collapsing on her soft, pink bedspread Tamlina thought about the days events. She had done good. Three vampire spawn killed before dinner. A genuine smile pulled up the corners of her lips. Thomas would be proud of her, she could almost picture him smiling down at her from heaven. She had done all of this for him. For her older brother.

The very first time she had seen a vampire it had literally knocked the breath out of her, she had lain in shocked stillness as the savage beast bit into the neck of her only older brother, Thomas Gray. The paranormal creature had sucked his life-essence out through the conduit of blood and killed the boy. Tamlina had watched her father run out from the house, screaming in incoherent rage at the site he witnessed. At the time, Tamlina had not been aware of her father’s extracurricular jaunts into the world of hunting vampires, but after that night twelve years ago she became acutely aware. It would consume her every waking moment.

Her mother, Janice Gray, had also been a hunter by trade until she had finally settled down into the family lifestyle. Now Janice could barely go toe-to-toe with a ghost and live. Years of chauffeuring children to soccer games and gymnastic tryouts had loosened her shield of experience. Now it was falling heavily on Tamlina’s shoulders to protect her family. She was the family secret that they tried to hard to hide from the rest of the world.

Tamlina Gray was a hunter first, daughter and sister second. She liked it that way, it gave her a sense of justice that she had always felt robbed of after her helpless viewing of Thomas’ attack. She had watched as he died, that night her father had showed her the garlic and silver ritual. He had performed it on Thomas’ gray corpse. She had cried through the entire experience, too young to truly understand what a good thing her father had been doing.

The young woman rolled onto her side, fluffing a pillow under her head. She felt the reassuring fabric under her hands and relaxed even further. Tamlina felt certain that even though there were dangers in the outside world, she would be safe in her bedroom. She felt a wave of exhaustion flood over her, closing her eyes she let sleep take her away from the chaotic world she lived in.

Outside her window, on the lawn below, a dark-shrouded form watched and waited.

Monday, October 13, 2008



Still Working On It...Post the "After" Later...

Just A Doodle-In-My-Notebook A-Doodly-Doo!

Family Matters

She steps carefully over the pile of fresh, dark earth. It is no secret why she is there, in the middle of the night, surrounded by darkness and moonlight. Family and friends have chosen to ignore these little trips into the graveyard. They look past the nightmare actions that she makes each night.
A family affair, some would call it. A family secret, as it is known by those involved.
The young woman, seventeen and looking every year of it, has long dark hair that falls straight against pale skin. Her almond colored eyes are forever squinted into a hard expression of stoicism. Her name is Tamlina Gray and she is a vampire slayer. A thankless job that has brought her more pain than praise.
This night, she stares down into the freshly dug grave. Any moment now the full moon will rise and the ghost of the vampire victim laying in the coffin below will be released into the world. Tamlina knows how to stop this terrible event from happening. She reaches into her coat pocket and pulls out a pair of silver scissors.
Removing her gloves, so as not to get dirt stains on them, she crawls carefully into the grave, one foot on either side of the coffin, she prepares herself for the sight within. It never gets easier, but she squares her shoulders and pulls back the lid. Inside the remains of a nineteen year old man are composed into a picture of endless slumber. She swallows hard, flinching at the thought of what she has to do next.
The scissors glint in the low light, twin blades of justice and revenge. She brandishes them with a familiarity of a lover, her hands tightening their grip as she swung her arm at a downward angle. The sickening sound of flesh being stabbed made her swallow hard, revulsion at the deed overshadowed by the knowledge that it had been the right move. An hour later and the vampire would have risen from its new grave. Tamlina Gray would not stand for another vampire to be allowed life. They all deserved to be killed before they chose to take the lives of innocents.
She knew from personal experience just how devastating a vampire attack could be - stealing the life of a loved one without a single thought of regret or remorse. Tamlina let the scissors stay inside the dead body, the handles poking out at odd angles, then she reached under her shirt and fingered the necklace of garlic cloves hanging against her skin. They would need to be placed inside the dead body’s mouth. She hated this part.
A droll drizzle started at that second and she shivered inside her thin coat. Winter was over and the cold weather was suppose to be over for another month at least. With a heavy sigh, Tamlina blew a bang out of her blue eyes and, with a quick flick of her wrist, dislodged a clove of garlic from the necklace. Reaching down into the coffin she pried open the dead man’s jaw and thrust the clove inside. That would keep the soul from manifesting outside the body, the silver would keep the body dead. As long as neither were disturbed, the vampire would never be allowed to live. She closed the coffin lid.
She crawled out of the grave and stood, looking down at the lavish wooden box. Tamlina patted the dust off her hands, her job was done. Any moment the graveyard attendant she had bribed would return to fill in the gravesite. Adjusting her coat, hugging her warmth to herself, the teenage girl walked towards the graveyard exit. It was almost sunset and she needed to get home before curfew.
Tamlina Gray had not been a vampire hunter for more than five years, but they had been very intense years filled with weapons training, research and hunts. The dark haired girl had become very adept at spotting and killing the creatures. It was a personal crusade that brought her family together. Five years before, they had lost Timothy Gray to a vampire - her older brother and confidant - to the violent whims of a bloodthirsty hell raiser. Now, she spent her nights hunting down those wicked animals. Human husks without a soul.

Thursday, October 9, 2008

Angel Statue

Wednesday, October 8, 2008


Cold blood pounds through my veins, adrenaline forcing my thoughts to blur as I force myself to stand on the swaying earth. There was never a chance to make a different choice and now I will have to live with the consequences.

Forced into a decision I would have killed not to make, I look down at the dead body at my feet. My name is Jade Suon and I have just died. The body, laying so pale and alone in the darkness of an empty city park, is mine. Shadows obscure the familiar features, long dark hair curled around bloody shoulders. I have shed one form of living for another.

A pink edge to the horizon warns of the coming dawn and with tears in my eyes I step over the unmoving form and walk away. Following a concrete path to the edge of the park where I hail a taxi cab. The driver in the yellow vehicle does not notice anything odd about me. How can he? I haven’t changed in any outer sense. I still look like the Jade Suon that had, so naively, wandered into the danger of the park.

Cold raindrops begin to fall against the window as I look out at the lights, buildings and people that pass by in a slow flash of life.

My name is Jade Suon and I have just died.

My name is Jade Suon and I will now start living

The Matt-Man...Eerm, Whatever. It's Matthew

My Grammie!! :D.

Tuesday, October 7, 2008

Monday, October 6, 2008


Sunday, October 5, 2008

I Heard You Sammy
By Tina c.

I see your troubled eyes
So brooding and veiled
You think you hide it well
But I could always tell
You hurt more than others
When things get all screwed

I lay a hand on your shoulder
It’s the best I can do here
Now that I’m under scrutiny
Of an internal pre-mutiny
I want to jump ship, get out
But you need me, so I kept
Up the fight to keep you safe
Without you there’d be no life.

Not life or death this time, still
I know that you need to heal
Things have been hard on you
I know that, I can see the affect
This job has had on your heart.

You try to hide a grin, it’s sad
I groaned inside, shrugged, grimaced
I never was good at this stuff
Sharing thoughts, feelings, truth
I spot a close diner and get us a booth.

Safe ground, civilians to interrupt
I know you need more, but this is it
All I can give to you right now.
I’ll do better after this, tomorrow.
We sit and eat, you try to talk here.

I listened to what you said, shocked?
I can see it in those eyes so wide.
You wonder at my sudden interest
I know I always came across all snappy
Not wading into emotions labeled “sappy”.
But I cared all along.

….I heard you Sammy.


Wish For A Family
By Tina c.

There used to be a family in my life.

I used to think the past was enough.
To help me through here and now.
And problems that weigh me down.
I wish for a family to help me deal
Then maybe my heart would heal.
A father’s advice, a mother’s care
Shoulders to lean on, love to share
All I could ever ask is for a family
To take part in my life and misery
Maybe then my misery would turn
The opposite of this lonesome urn
My life in ashes, atop a mantle shelf
With no way to continue on myself.

I’d give anything for the fulfillment
As I beg, plead, pray for a moment
Just one moment of contented peace
When we can be like other families.
During that time I am part of a family.
In safety and numbers, a little eerie
To think what it would really be like.
I shrug away these thoughts, all fake
A figment of my wishful imagination.
If in them I find solace I feel concern.
I tell myself to leave these thoughts
Hidden away from my minds eyes.
Where they cannot spy on my longing.
For a family and safety and belonging.

There used to be a family in my life
In another time, before violent strife.
Threatened to break what is now gone
Never to be seen again as life goes on.

(As ashes, I float on the wind of time
And scatter through the endlessness.
To forget my troubles, dead now. )


Friday, October 3, 2008

My Batman Image..Yeppers.

The Miracle
By Tina c.

To go back in time and change it all
The moments that lead me to today
I would give my life, my everything
To see if there was any way, any hope.

Then, miraculous, I am given the chance
To see how these events took place then
I know what I need to do and just maybe
If I were to work quickly, time could change.

The moments pass by so fast as I blink
I barely make sense of this place and time
Everything I ever wanted to make different
Is here and now and then it’s gone away again.

To go back in time and change it all
The moments that lead to where I am today
I would give my life in a heartbeat for hope
That all of this could be changed somehow.

Still, after this second chance, I look back
Nothing has changed. Like time has a script
To follow regardless of the actors on stage
Regardless of the fluid way time can move.

I blink and the miracle is over. Again I feel
Like there was no real hope at all.

To go back in time once more. Maybe just then
I could make a difference, change the scripts.

I went back, I lived through moments, I lost it all.
Now I wish I had never gone, but I needed it,
To know that there had been nothing for me to do.
It would have played out the same with or without.

My help was not needed. My miracle worthless in light
Of the fact that fate does not give up it’s grip easily.
They are dead, I am still alive, I lived through their death
Watched as they were torn apart and still I survived.

It was meant to be. . .I blink and the miracle is my curse.