Ebbtide's One-Shot Thread **SPOILERS ALL EPISODES*

[ebbtide]

Dean Winchester leaned against the driver door of their current ride, a beat up Chevy muscle car with paint peeling from the roof, and stared into the darkness. Sam was sleeping in the passenger seat, finally able to get the rest his body had been needing for so long.

He had his brother back. Sam was coherent and, as far as they could tell, healed of his hallucinations. It should have been a victory, but it felt like a loss.

Dean winced, scrubbing a hand over his two-day old stubble. He was tired and everything felt so...heavy. Frank was still missing, supposedly dead. Castiel was now locked up with a demon caretaker. Sam's body may be recovering, but it was still weak and would need some time to heal. You didn't recover from near death overnight.

So much was left to him. He felt responsible for fixing all of this, because, he couldn't help but feel it was his fault. The Apocalypse had been the first domino in this train of disasters and he had been the one to shove it over, toppling the world with it.

He need to think. He needed to sleep.

With a heavy sigh Dean hauled the driver door open and slid back into the frayed seat. He would drive until they reached a hotel and then stop for the night. Glancing over at his brother Dean's heart grew fuller for a moment, a knot forming in his throat. He had been so sure Sam was going to die and yet here he was, against all odds, living and breathing.

After so much loss in such a short amount of time it was the small things that mattered the most. Sam's shadowed face relaxed, looking younger than he had in years, unburdened by Lucifer's taunting. Dean allowed himself a moment to just take in the sight, breath deeply and smile.

No matter what obstacles faced him in the coming days and months, he would overcome them. He wasn't going to leave Sam or let anything tear them apart ever again.

He turned the key in the ignition and the car rumbled to life. Flicking on the headlights, Dean started driving.

* * *
(This was very stream of consciousness.)

[dianthusmoon]

Welcome aboard and thanks for contributing!

[michlp]

EBBY!!! Welcome! I'm so glad you're here! Crafty told me she sent you the email. Yay! The old gang is getting back together! Now we have to get Crafty here too. ;D

I love your fanfic! Thanks for sharing.

[ebbtide]

Aww! Thank you. <3. Yeah, glad to see that everyone has found a new - happy - home. <3. That's awesome. . I'm glad you like the fic. I had to write SOMETHING after that episode. It nearly killed me.

[ashley]

great job with this

[ebbtide]

Thank you. <3. <3.

[ebbtide]

Alrighty, I have a random and irresistible urge to one-shot the SPN fandom at all hours of the day and night, so, that is what I am going to use this thread for. . I hope you guys enjoy reading what I enjoy writing. LOVING Supernatural this season. So many plot bunnies, omg.

WARNING: I am a spoiler whore...so...don't read until you're caught up with the episodes or you'll probably read some stuff that is spoilery.

Anywhoo, on to the writing.

---

Bobby sat in the backseat of the Impala watching his boys - they were the sons he never thought he could have in every way that mattered - and musing over the seemingly insurmountable problem at hand. They couldn't see him.

At times, especially when he was alone with one of them and no distractions were nearby, he thought they could sense his presence. Sam had been the first to attempt communication with a talking board, but for some damned reason Bobby had not been able to interact with the younger man. It had been frustrating beyond belief and his heart ached in the face of their pain.

Scratching his beard, Bobby let the screeching guitar solo blasting through the speakers wash over him for a moment. While it was not his particular taste in music he was relieved to be there at all, hearing it and being near the Winchester boys. He had been able to protect them in simple ways, but it was not enough.

He needed to contact them somehow. To let them know that they weren't as alone as they thought. They still had him.

A knot formed in the ghosts throat when he noticed that Sam had drifted off to sleep again. Seeing the boy healed so miraculously by Castiel's sacrifice had been one of the happiest moments of his life. Sam's hell had been diminished in such a dramatic way and Bobby was so damned proud of how well the boy had handled everything that had been thrown at him.

It hurt that he had been too proud to say so many things when he had been alive. I love you boys. I don't want to leave you. Please, don't die. Go, leave, be happy in whatever lives you can manage. Don't let those evil sons of bitches win...don't give up hope.

Sure, he had said it in his own way. Idjits. Family don't end in blood. Look after your brother.

It didn't feel like enough now. Bobby reached forward and put a hand on each of their shoulders, just wanting to be nearer them.

Dean's gaze flicked into the rearview mirror and he shuddered momentarily before clenching his jaw and re-focusing on the road. In his sleep Sam murmered something low and unintelligible. Bobby took those as signs that he was not completely lost to them.

"I love you idjits and I'm going to find a way to come back to you," he said softly, glad they could not hear the quivering in his voice.

---

[ebbtide]

I absolutely ADORE the character of Garth (I love DJ Quall in everything)

---

Girl I must warn you
I sense something strange
In my mind.

Situation is serious.

Poison by Bell Biv Devoe thumped through the speakers. Garth's shoulders rolled in time with the beat, a smile turning up the corners of his mouth.

It had been a good case. The hunter had not felt this good about himself in a long time. Sure, he spent most of his time saving lives and helping others, but rarely did he get the chance to hang out with other hunters who actually appreciated him as an equal. His smile stretched into a happy grin and a fond sound sighed between his teeth.

The Winchesters were some seriously dangerous guys, but they were also something different. Special. Theirs was a deeper life, more meaning and more passion than Garth thought possible.

"It's all so beautiful," he sang along with the music.

As a hunter he had experienced his own pain and he had demons that hounded him through the days, but he had not been to heaven or hell. The Winchesters had done both and had come back for more.

It blew his mind.

It's driving me outta my mind
That's why it's hard for me to find
Can't get it outta my head...

Garth wanted to be better because of them. Their altruistic acts made him want to give more, save more...do more for their fucked up planet.

Music sounding loudly, hitting against him with a familiar beat, he drove on to his next hunt.

---

[ebbtide]

What if DEAN had been the one who was Lucifer's vessel? How would that have changed things? ... If he had the demon blood, the destiny to fall? I wonder.

---

Dean glared tiredly at the far corner of the room where Lucifer was sitting, singing Heads Will Roll for the countless time.

"Heads will roll," the hallucinations voice screeched off tune, "heads will roll! Heads will roll, on the floor!"

A disembodied head appeared at the end of the hospital bed and Dean shrank back from the bloody apparition in revulsion. He swallowed back the vomit that surged up his throat. It was not real.

"Glitter on the wet streets, silver over everything," somehow those words sounded dark, dripping with sarcasm and energy.

At that moment the door opened and Dean looked up, his stiff shoulders relaxing a little at the sight of his brother. He wondered if it was another trick of his mind or if Sam was really looking down at him from that impossible height, eyes shinning with concern and love.

"How are you feeling, Dean?"

A rough sound escaped his throat. "Fine. 'M fine."

Sam's mouth softened, a sad light twinkling in his eyes. "Sure you are." He tapped Dean's leg. "Scoot over."

Dean obligingly scuttled over a bit and Sam took a seat, the bloody head turning on it's own, eyes staring up at Sam. Dean blinked and turned away from the sight and instead stared at his hands.

"Is he here now?" Sam asked, glancing around as if he might catch sight of the vision.

Dean nodded silently, ashamed of his inability to control the insanity inside of him. Sam put a comforting hand on his leg and sat for a long moment without saying anything.

"Dean, I'm going to find a way to fix this no matter what," he said finally.

"The men cry out, the girl's cry out!" Lucifer belted out the lyrics with a sneer.

Dean's eyes filled with tears, but he refused to let them fall so instead they swam in front of his vision, hot needles of pain and frustration.

"Sammy, I don't think there's any help out there," he admitted, his voice small and uncertain. He cleared his throat and intentially deepened his next words. "I don't want you to waste your life for me. Don't do that to yourself, Sammy."

A sharp intake of breath brought the older brother's gaze up and he found himself staring into the accusing hazel glare.

"You don't want help, Dean? Is that what you're saying?" Sam asked.

Dean picked at the bandages around his wrist. "No, I'm not saying that...I just...Sammy, you've already given up so much. I'll be fine here. I mean, we both knew it was going to come to this anyway, right."

"No!" the exclamation was sharp and fearful.

"Sammy -."

"No, Dean!" Sam interrupted, standing and pacing a few feet away before turning back to the bed."I'm going to fix this and get you outta here. What I've been through is nothing compared to what you sacrificed, Dean. God, you went to hell with Satan! The fact that you're here at all is a miracle and I know I shouldn't hope for more...but I do," he quieted, "I have to."

Lucifer had quieted, seemingly intrigued by the scene playing out. Dean ignored him completely. He wasn't sure what his brother needed to hear and again the nagging feeling that maybe this was all just a dramatic production going on in his head tugged at him. He swallowed hard, eyebrows drawing together.

"Sammy, I'm sorry. There aren't any easy answers to this, okay? There's no magic cure...I mean, c'mon, the last faith healer we met had a reaper on a leash. I don't think there's a cure out there and I'm not expecting to walk away from this. It's a price I'm willing to pay for stopping the apocalypse. People are alive because of us - everyone is alive because of us - and although this isn't...easy. It's worth it."

He hoped his sincerity showed through the fear that clawed at his insides. It felt like his heart was caught in a vice, beating desperately to escape, but he needed Sam to know that the cost was worth it. The price was one he would gladly pay again and again.

Sam nodded, but the determination never left his expression. "I understand that, Dean, but I don't accept it. I'm going to find a way to get you better."

The younger man turned towards the door and almost reached it before adding quietly. "Dean, I don't say it enough but I love you and..." he didn't turn back, the voice muffled, "...I'm going to come back."

Then he left Dean alone and Lucifer stared at the door for a moment before adopting a pout.

"It's always drama, drama, drama with that one. Dee-eean. Why don't we blow this joint and go find us a couple of hot girls?" Lucifer wiggles his eyebrows suggestively. "You can **** them and then I'll wear them."

Dean closed his eyes, the tears finally spilling down his cheeks, and ignored the increasingly vulgar suggestions coming from the corner of the room. He had to believe Sam would come back. That it had been him that promised...Sam always kept his promise.

A whimper escaped and Dean folded into himself, willing the world and everything in it to disappear.

---

[ebbtide]

I LOVE, love, LOVE little brotherly moments between major scenes where they're discussing the current case and just being...normal. I live for those scenes. <3.

---

Dean leaned against the hood of the Impala, arms crossed over his chest to ward off the winter cold. His ears were bright pink and his nose had grown numb. Rubbing his hands together he breathed into them, the breath forming a white cloud in the air before disappating.

"It's about damned time!" he cried out suddenly.

The hunter pushed himself away from the car and walked forward to meet his brother halfway. Sam shrugged, his large shoulders rolling under his thick coat.

"There was a long line, man," he said.

Sam handed over the white take-out bag with Dean's burger, fries and slice of pie and then both brothers clambered back into the car where the heater soon warmed them.

"So," Sam started, carefully unwrapping his own sandwich, "what do we know about the killer so far?"

Dean scarfed down half the burger before replying with an off-handed, "werewolf maybe - eats hearts."

Sam rolled his eyes. "I knew that, Dean. But what do we really know?"

Dean stuffed a few fries in his mouth, licking the salt of his fingers. "All the victims were killed around the local community center. A school teacher, gym coach and charity board member...cops have questioned the usual suspects and nada."

Sam chewed thoughtfully.

"While you were inside taking forever, I talked to a few locals and it seems like all the vics were pretty much hated around here."

Sam looked up sharply. "What?"

Dean nodded. "The teacher was on suspension for inappropriate discipline of a student, the gym coach was just an all around dick and the board member was a class A bitch with a hate on for the competition."

This caught Sam's attention. "Competition?"

"Yeah, apparently there's some votey thing coming up and...honestly, I wasn't really listening at that point, but the gist I got was that the board wanted to replace Anal Annie with someone a little less....anal."

Sam shook his head at his brother's language, but at least they had some leads to explore. He finished off his sandwich and threw the wrapper back in the bag.

"Alright, well, I can talk to the rest of the board if you want to go check out the school."

Dean smirked. "Sounds good to me." He glanced in the bag and pulled out the plastic container inside. "As soon as I finish my pie."

---