SPN fic: Deals made in the dark
Sep. 16th, 2008 09:14 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
auntiemeeshI finally made some headway on those fic prompts you were all generous enough to give me.
Title: Deals Made in the Dark
Fandom: Supernatural
Genre/rating: Gen/PG for language
word count: 369 words
spoilers: set sometime late season three, but no specific spoilers
prompt: written for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
lindahoyland, who requested Supernatural, a church, midnight.
Disclaimer: I own nothing to do with Supernatural and make no profit from it.
Betaed byeve11, who always makes my fic better.
Deals Made in the Dark
The nave was dark and still and Dean breathed in deep, the air heavy with the mingled scents of wood soap, incense and heated candle wax. All of the doors had been locked hours ago, but a locked door was no deterrent to someone with the proper tools. He’d slipped in through a small side door several minutes ago, intending only to fill their canteens with holy water and get out. They could bless their own water in a pinch, but it seemed stronger, worked more effectively, if blessed by a priest. Go figure. Anyhow, he’d done what he came for, the full canteens a comforting weight at his side, but still, he hesitated a minute in the warm dark, unable to simply leave. Finally, cursing under his breath, he slid into a pew and knelt uncomfortably.
“Okay, look, God or whoever might be listening, if anyone is,” he muttered, looking around furtively, feeling like someone was watching from the shadows. Not that it was likely, here. “I don’t know if you’re really out there or not, but I’ve got a favor to ask and I figure you owe me one or two hundred for all the evil shit I’ve ki…um, got rid of for you.” He cleared his throat, feeling his face turn red. “I need you to watch out for Sammy. He’s too stubborn for his own good and he’s not as good at taking care of himself as he’d like to think. He’s gonna need some help once I’m gone.”
“Dean?” a hoarse whisper broke the silence of the church. “What’s taking so long?”
“Jesus, Sam, keep your shirt on.” Dean scowled in the direction of the door, where he could just make out his brother’s silhouette. “Yeah, so,” he continued in a bare whisper, too quiet to reach Sam’s ear, “we got a deal, right?” Nodding, as though he could seal the deal himself, he crossed himself about as awkwardly as anyone ever had, and rose.
“Okay, little brother,” he said aloud as he vaulted the pew and joined his brother at the door, “let’s ditch this popsicle stand.” Ignoring Sam’s penetrating glare, he pushed past the taller man and walked out into the night.
Title: Deals Made in the Dark
Fandom: Supernatural
Genre/rating: Gen/PG for language
word count: 369 words
spoilers: set sometime late season three, but no specific spoilers
prompt: written for
lindahoyland, who requested Supernatural, a church, midnight.Disclaimer: I own nothing to do with Supernatural and make no profit from it.
Betaed by
eve11, who always makes my fic better. Deals Made in the Dark
The nave was dark and still and Dean breathed in deep, the air heavy with the mingled scents of wood soap, incense and heated candle wax. All of the doors had been locked hours ago, but a locked door was no deterrent to someone with the proper tools. He’d slipped in through a small side door several minutes ago, intending only to fill their canteens with holy water and get out. They could bless their own water in a pinch, but it seemed stronger, worked more effectively, if blessed by a priest. Go figure. Anyhow, he’d done what he came for, the full canteens a comforting weight at his side, but still, he hesitated a minute in the warm dark, unable to simply leave. Finally, cursing under his breath, he slid into a pew and knelt uncomfortably.
“Okay, look, God or whoever might be listening, if anyone is,” he muttered, looking around furtively, feeling like someone was watching from the shadows. Not that it was likely, here. “I don’t know if you’re really out there or not, but I’ve got a favor to ask and I figure you owe me one or two hundred for all the evil shit I’ve ki…um, got rid of for you.” He cleared his throat, feeling his face turn red. “I need you to watch out for Sammy. He’s too stubborn for his own good and he’s not as good at taking care of himself as he’d like to think. He’s gonna need some help once I’m gone.”
“Dean?” a hoarse whisper broke the silence of the church. “What’s taking so long?”
“Jesus, Sam, keep your shirt on.” Dean scowled in the direction of the door, where he could just make out his brother’s silhouette. “Yeah, so,” he continued in a bare whisper, too quiet to reach Sam’s ear, “we got a deal, right?” Nodding, as though he could seal the deal himself, he crossed himself about as awkwardly as anyone ever had, and rose.
“Okay, little brother,” he said aloud as he vaulted the pew and joined his brother at the door, “let’s ditch this popsicle stand.” Ignoring Sam’s penetrating glare, he pushed past the taller man and walked out into the night.
