#abc drabbles

[ladylilithprime]

Mourn me

So, since you didn't specify a pairing or character, I'm going with Author's Choice. Enjoy!

HE HAD KNOWN the end would come. There was no way he could consume so much so fast without utterly depleting the source before the appointed time, but he had been unable to help himself. Now he would have to pay the price of his impatience, not only in being forced to go without in the coming days, but he would have to face his father and admit what he had done.

Jack wasn't sure he could take seeing Sam's disappointment aimed at him for his lack of restraint and self-control, his failure to abide by his father's wishes. He had felt no regrets in the moment, only the pleasure of revelling in his indulgence, but now the regret bit at him sharply alongside the guilt.

With a wince and a pained sigh, Jack slowly lowered the empty box of Crunch Cookie Crunch into the trash.

Prompt me?

[ladylilithprime]

Value Me, Jack and any (or all) of his dads

Sequel to And Save Me From The Dark

DARKNESS WAS FAMILIAR to Sam Winchester, somewhere between an ancient enemy and an old friend. He had fought with and against it, accepted and banished it, and even surrendered to it in one form or another for his entire life. He had no fear of it, and felt no pressing urge to leave it now, wrapped within it as he was, warm and quiet and without pain.

"He's been like this for days, Cas. You sure you can't..."

"Even if I could use my Grace to wake him, I would not. You and Sam have a bad habit of not allowing yourselves time to heal and rest as you should, and there is no need to wake him immediately."

"But Jack--"

"Jack is as Sam hoped to make him. Safe and whole. Dumah has been dealt with and can no longer manipulate him into killing humans to create new angels the way she had been doing."

"But--"

"No. To forcibly rouse Sam now would do him more harm than good. Or do you no longer prioritize your brother's safety and health and happiness above all else?"

"...Nothing more important than Sammy."

"Then let him rest."

"....Okay."

Sam let himself drift down and away again, floating in the darkness. Jack was safe. Jack was whole. Dean was impatient, but Castiel had him in hand for now. He could rest. They would wake him if he was needed, if the situation became dire, but for now he could take his time to rest, to rebuild himself after unravelling his soul so far that he felt more like a knotted string inside than a proper soul. It would take time to unravel himself again and rewind all the filaments back into cohesion, but he could finally do it. He had time.

"Sam?"

Jack!

"Sam, I... I'm so sorry..."

No, Jack, you don't need to be sorry, son....

"I know you think I don't need to be sorry, but I do. I am. I... I messed up so much, hurt so many people--"

You're still a kid, Jack, you made mistakes and when you found out the truth you wanted to fix it. Nobody with sense could blame you for being manipulated.

"Dean is back to wanting to kill me again, but he can't. There's nothing out there that can."

I said nobody with sense, Jack. Dean's not sensible, not when it comes to people with powers. Too much like Dad.

"He says he doesn't want to kill me, but he's lied to me before. So many people have lied to me, and part of me just wishes everyone would stop lying...but then I remember that I've lied, too, and I don't know what makes some lies hurtful and some lies okay."

I wish I could answer that for you, Jack. I grew up being fed lies until I learned to lie right back and sometimes I can't tell the difference either.

"Castiel says that it's hard to tell the difference and that the best way to determine what lies are okay is if the truth would hurt someone more than help, but that's hard to guess too. Like with my grandparents. It would hurt them to know that my mother is dead, but what if it hurts them more to find out that she's dead after being told by people that she's alive?"

Finding out that your child is dead will hurt no matter when it happens, Jack. In the case of your grandparents, though, they'd want to know what happened to Kelly's two year old son, probably want to take custody.

"Castiel said it's better they think she's alive so they don't start asking questions about me. I don't look like a two year old human, and I don't think I'd want to live with them anyway, not when I have my fathers."

...Fathers?

"I mean... I mean Castiel, of course, but... I also mean you."

Jack...?

"Do you remember the day I was born? I called you Father, because you were the first person I saw and you felt like the Grace I'd felt before... like Castiel's Grace. You said you weren't my father, and I guess at the time that was true... but I think... I think you became my father not long after that. When you protected me, and cared for me... comforted me when I got upset or scared... And you said you care about me. That you love me."

I do, Jack.

"I love you, too, Sam... Dad. I hope... I don't know what I'm doing, and I don't know who I can trust besides you and Castiel, but... I hope one day I can make you proud."

"...you do..."

"Sam?!"

"Jack..." Sam sighed, dragging his eyes open as he turned his head to look up at his son. "...you do make me proud... every day."

"Dad!" Tears spilled over Jack's cheeks and he slumped forwards over the bed and Sam's chest, shoulders shaking with sobs.

"It's okay, Jack," Sam murmured, dragging one weighted hand up to rest on his son's back. "It's okay, let it out... It's all going to be okay."

Prompt me?

[ladylilithprime]

Enamor Me: Cas and Sam. Cas is trying to work up the nerve to ask Sam out on a Vday date, complete with child-like Valentine card and one of those Kiss Me candy hearts.

THE CARD WAS a tragedy. That was what Meg had called it when she saw the folded paper and shaky crayon drawing of the best approximation he could make of his own anatomically correct angelic heart and the carefully drawn Enochian glyphs spelling out Sam's name and Castiel's own declaration of love for the human hunter with a soul more bright and pure and beautiful than many angels could claim. Then again, Meg often said that Castiel himself was a tragedy, so Castiel wasn't sure how she meant it.

The card had stayed in his coat for a very long time, through Purgatory and out again, through Naomi's brainwashing and Metatron's trickery. He had found it in the pocket of his coat when preparing for what he had thought was a date that turned out to be a babysitting job for his boss, and that nearly made him call the woman to say he couldn't make it. Dean had prodded him into motion, but the card (and the remembered feelings it had awakened) stayed with him throughout the night.

He had been forbidden entrance to the Bunker by Dean, the reasoning for which Dean had not seen fit to explain, and so Dean's attempts to maintain contact seemed suspect if not completely disingenuous. When he learned of Sam's possession by Gadreel, who had come to Dean claiming to be Ezekiel, the fact that he was turned away made more sense, though he felt hurt that Dean had not trusted him to stay away for Sam's safety on his own.

His hurt was nothing compared to Sam's outrage over Dean's apparent betrayal of Sam's trust by lying to Sam about his own possession to which he had not knowingly consented. Castiel's feelings on possession were, of course, somewhat different from a human perspective, but he agreed that what Dean and Gadreel had done was wrong and harmful to Sam with his history of having been Lucifer's vessel. That Dean seemed to show no remorse for having done it and no understanding of why it had been wrong regardless of the motive to save his life clearly hurt Sam as much as his having done it at all.

When Sam nearly killed himself at Castiel's hands to get the last remnants of Gadreel's Grace, Castiel knew he could not stand by and let the light that was Sam Winchester's life be swallowed up with Sam still not knowing how truly important he was, not just to the world, but to Castiel. He tried to express it with words, but he wasn't sure that Sam truly understood his meaning and, in desperation, he left the card lying on the pillow of Sam's bed.

Hannah came for him before he could learn if Sam had found it.

Prompt me?

[ladylilithprime]

Kill Me, Sam and Dean.

WHEN I SAID that you two dancing around each other was driving me crazy and you should just talk to each other and start dancing together," Dean said as he rubbed the bridge if his nose, "this wasn't what I meant."

"You should know better than to be hyperbolic around Cas by now," Sam told him without sympathy as he swept by, Castiel in his arms. "You said dancing, so we're dancing. No, Cas, don't look at your feet, look at me. Feel the connection between your Grace and Vessel and let the rhythm of the music tell you when to move as my movements tell you how to move with me."

"This activity is strangely complex in its rules for how intuitive it seems to be," Castiel said, his brows drawing together in concentration even as he obeyed Sam's directive to look up instead of at his feet.

"It definitely can be, but that's why we're practicing," Sam agreed.

"You're killing me here," Dean interrupted, lowering his hand and frowning. "Practicing for what?"

"Dancing at our wedding," Castiel answered, dropping the bombshell just as Sam spun him under one arm. "We intended to tell you over dinner that we're getting married this weekend."

"Yeah, think you could dust off the Fed suit and officiate for us?" Sam asked, glancing at Dean before giving Castiel a frankly besotted look. "That way we don't have to decide which of us gets you for our Best Man."

"Son of a bitch!"

Prompt me?

[ladylilithprime]

Invite me - Sastiel!

SO, DO YOU want to go?"

"Hm?" Sam blinked and tuned back into the conversation, embarrassed to have been caught not paying attention. Well, technically he'd been paying very close attention to the movement of Castiel Morado's lips to the point that he'd totally missed what they were saying beyond what sounded like an invitation to go somewhere. His mouth was in motion before his brain engaged, saying, "Yeah, sure, I'll go."

"Really?" Castiel lit up, distracting Sam from the way Dean was frantically shaking his head behind his best friend and Sam's crush. "I mean, I know you enjoy horror movies, but I wasn't sure you'd be okay with me clinging to you while you're trying to watch it."

"It's you, Cas," Sam assured him, his heart tripping over itself in his chest. "I won't mind, promise, and I'd love to see the movie with you."

"Sammy, it wouldn't be a good movie for you to watch--" Dean began, and Sam could have killed him for the way Castiel's eyes dimmed in disappointment.

"It's a movie, jerk," he interrupted sharply, shooting his brother a glare. "I think I can cope, and Castiel asked."

"Don't say I didn't warn you, bitch," Dean griped as he threw up his hands, but Sam was too busy basking in Castiel's beaming smile to pay him any mind.

And that was how Sam ended up seated next to Castiel in a darkened theatre gripping the other boy's hand tightly as the opening for It 2 played on the screen.

Prompt me?

[ladylilithprime]

Call Me - Sastiel. Meet cute!

WILL YOU GIVE me your name?" the handsome stranger asked as he held out a hand.

Castiel studied him narrowly, the imposing height and glimmering eyes that seemed to change colors with the shifting light, and then placed his hand in the fae's outstretched hand. "You can call me Ainsel," he said, just as he'd been taught, and arched an eyebrow. "Will you give me your name?"

The fae man blinked, then chuckled, his smile turning more impish. "You can call me Sam. Shall we dance, 'Ainsel'?"

And they did. 'Sam' was a much better dancer than Castiel, but the fae complimented him for being able to keep up. The song ended and a new one began, but Sam stayed with Castiel, dancing the next song and the next, and when Castiel's feet began to ache and he was forced to beg off another dance, Sam led him back to the seat from which he'd drawn him and didn't even look put out for having to stop when he could clearly have danced for longer.

"Thank you for the dance, Sam," Castiel said, because he was polite and wouldn't keep the fae if he wanted to leave. The fae shivered slightly, making Castiel wonder, but his smile was warm.

"Thank you for indulging me, Ainsel," he answered with a wink. "Such a common name tonight!"

"Perhaps if we meet again I'll have something different for you to call me," Castiel returned, and had the pleasure of hearing Sam's full-voiced laugh and seeing his dimpled smile.

"I look forward to it," Sam said, lifting Castiel's hand to brush a kiss across his knuckles, and Castiel found that he believed him.

Prompt me?

[ladylilithprime]

Sabriel- "Mourn me" + a side of Not Actually Dead

MONACO WAS ABOUT as far removed from the staging grounds for the Apocalypse as Gabriel could get while still maintaining a very specific level of cosmopolitan decadence in conjunction with the perfect vacation atmosphere of sun, sand, and surf. After Lucifer had very nearly killed him with his own blade (and thank pagan slight of hand tricks that it had been the blade he'd made from that can of diet Slice instead of his actual Archangel blade) Gabriel wasn't keen to go anywhere near either of his older brothers again until he absolutely had to. If Lucifer, the brother who'd practically raised him and taught him to fly, was willing to kill him over this stupid fight, then Michael wouldn't even hesitate.

So much for family, Deano.

He'd just taken a sip of this neon green cocktail made from Midori and pineapple juice called an Alien Secretion when he was blindsided by an incoming prayer from none other than Sam Winchester.

"Hey, Gabriel," he intoned, a far cry from a formal prayer but more powerful for the genuine strength of the intent behind it. "I don't know what sort of afterlife angels or Archangels get, but I hope you're at peace."

Well, I was until you interrupted, Gabriel grumbled to himself, then winced as a pang of guilt hit him. Sam thought he was dead, after all, and if he'd actually been dead and in the Empty the prayer probably wouldn't have even reached him.

"I guess if you were here, you'd probably laugh at me, sitting by your vessel's grave talking to you the way humans talk to the corpses of their families. Do those people ever hear their families talking to them?" Sam paused, then sighed. "Nevermind, not the point, and I don't know how you'd answer me even if it was. Probably with a joke or something."

Gabriel tried to muster up some offense at that, but was forced to admit that he probably would. He wasn't sure what to make of the fact that Sam had his number so easily, either, so he sipped at his drink and waited. The hunter had said there was a point to this prayer, after all.

"We got your message. The, uh, the one on the DVD." Sam sounded weirdly uncomfortable now, and Gabriel wondered a bit at that before remembering what all that DVD had contained besides that long shot plan and smirked. "I don't know if you knew this when you gave us the plan, but we already had War and Famine's rings." Gabriel perked up. He hadn't known that. Maybe the plan wasn't such a long shot after all! "We've got Pestilence's ring now, and Death let Dean borrow his ring, so... Now all that's left is to head to Detroit."

Wait, what?

"I... I'm so scared, Gabriel. I'm trying not to be, trying to keep Dean and Cas and Bobby from realizing how terrified I am of doing this. And now I bet you'd tell me to quit whining, but you're dead so shut up and let me whine a little so can make myself go through with this, okay? You gave your life to give us a chance to escape and stop the Apocalypse from happening, the least I can do is make sure you didn't die in vain."

No, wait, Sam, what the hell are you planning, it sounds like--

"When I say Yes to Lucifer, there should be a moment of disorientation I can use to take control and jump. That's all I need, right? Just one moment where my will is stronger?"

--you can't do this, kiddo, he'll tear you to shreds, no!

"So, yeah. I don't know if it'll work. Snowball's chance in Hell and all, but... I have to try. So here's to saving the world, I guess. Rest in peace, Gabriel."

Gabriel was up and out of his chair, drink forgotten and wings half-spread to follow the trail of that prayer and shake some sense into the stupid suicidal hunter when power wrapped around his wings and a blow to the back of his head drove him to his knees.

"Leaving so soon?" a familiar voice hissed. "I think not. We have a lot to talk about regarding keeping bargains made with gods, Archangel."

Prompt me?

[ladylilithprime]

Drabble prompt: Saileen, Haunt Me.

IT WAS HARD work, and thankless, but Eileen didn't mind. Just because death gave those who had been deaf in life the ability to hear didn't mean they understood speech, so having a Reaper around who knew ASL fluently and had steady nerves from a life of being a hunter was a niche job she was well suited to. There wasn't always call for her services - she was a specialist, and there were few enough people on Earth percentage-wise who were born deaf every generation that she could afford to take the occasional break.

She tried not to go too often, because the temptation to reveal herself and speak to him and see his face when he realized she could finally hear his voice instead of just watching his lips move was strong, but she couldn't help looking in on Sam at the Bunker. Sometimes he wasn't there, out on a hunt or even just running errands that occurred when one had an actual home instead of a temporary base of operations, but most of the time he was and she got to catch glimpses of his life as he grieved and moved on and generally lived his life.

"You know you shouldn't be here," Jessica murmured, her low voice unnecessary with the way they both stood out of phase with the physical world.

"If She wants me to stop coming, She can tell me Herself," Eileen answered, not looking at the other Reaper. "I'm not neglecting my duties by being here, even after that witch thinned our numbers."

"The more you come, the more you'll be tempted to interfere."

"If it ever comes to that, it'll be because he needs me."

"You're dead, Eileen," Jessica said, not unkindly. "What can the dead offer the living?"

"A promise that there will be peace when they're done," Eileen murmured back. She spared one last look at Sam, bent over a large book in the library, and then slipped away.

She had work to do.

Prompt me?