![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
*glares at muse*
But anyway, this plot bunny is an ancient one. Was born back in season 1 hiatus, I believe, but don't quote me on it.
Anyway, it popped into my head an hour ago. And I messed around with it.
It's not beta-ed, but hey, I'm only posting it in my own journal, so... *shrug*
Yep, still not posting anywhere. I'm getting back to myself, but then again, my boss had a 2 weeks vacation from work, so it might be it.
Anyway -
Title: Of Broken Toys
Author:![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
Category: Gen, PG-13 ? No real cussing, nothing graphic, but I am twisted, so...
Characters: Sam, oc, Dean
Spoilers: Not that I know of.
Disclaimer: not mine, just playing with 'em. Pun intended ;)
Of Broken Toys
Sam put his phone down, running his hands through his hair. He hadn’t slept in over two days, no more than catnaps anyway. He couldn’t sleep, couldn’t relax. Not since Dean went out for beer two nights ago and didn’t come back.
Sam tried calling Dean's cell. It just rang until it went to voicemail the first two days. Now it went straight to voicemail. Battery probably dead. He just prayed it wasn’t Dean's fate as well.
Sam tried calling Bobby, calling Ellen, calling any number of contacts from Dean's little black book. Some of them were quite surprising. None were able to help. Dean had been gone for 37 hours, and Sam had no idea where he could have gone to, or what happened to him.
The car was still parked in the motel's parking lot, not far from their room. The store was in walking distance, Dean had had no need to use it. All his stuff were still there, he hadn’t just left Sam.
Something happened to him.
After long hours of worry and many messages left on Dean's voicemail, Sam started looking. Really looking. Jails and hospitals and morgues kind of looking.
Dean was nowhere to be found.
No one had seen him. No one recognized him from the picture in Sam's phone. A picture he took without Dean knowing. His brother was talking to a woman they'd helped, someone Dean had really connected with. They saved her kid, and in the picture, Dean was balancing a little girl on his hip, teasing the mother, looking for all the world like he belonged there. Like he belonged with that family. The little girl was even wearing a leather jacket, for crying out loud.
37 hours, and not a word. Like Dean had vanished off the face of the earth.
Sam pushed himself off the creaky motel bed, wincing at the pain in his knees after sitting for so long. He needed some fresh air. He needed a fresh perspective. He needed to find Dean. Yesterday.
With a sigh, Sam walked out of the motel room, leaning on the wall outside and just trying to think, goddamnit. There had to be a clue, a hint, something. Dean would leave a trail. He was good enough to leave a trail that would fool anyone else into thinking there was no trail left at all, but that Sam would find quickly, because Sam knew Dean and Dean knew Sam.
But there was nothing.
No trail.
And even if there was, the rain would have washed it away by now.
Sam ran his fingers through his long hair again, and cursed. He blinked the tears away. He'd already wasted enough time panicking yesterday. Dean was out there somewhere, and Sam was going to find him.
The sound of a child crying caught Sam's attention. He walked towards the sound, trying to avoid the rain as much as he could as he made his way to another room just across the motel's parking lot.
A child, maybe 8 years old, was sitting by another room's doorstep, crying. Sam crouched next to him.
"What's wrong?" He asked.
"My train's broken!" The child sniffled, "It won't work!"
"Want me to take a look at it? I might be able to fix it," Sam offered. The kid looked at him for a long moment before handing the toy over. Sam turned it in his hands. Some dirt got stuck in it, blocking the wheels. Tiny gravel pushed the battery aside, breaking the circuit. Sam cleaned it up, pushed the battery back in place and the toy started working again.
The kid looked at him with awe, his face lighting up. "Thanks Mister!" he cried, a giant smile on his lips. Sam smiled back and got up, turned to leave. If only he could fix his own problem so easily. If only he could just find Dean…
"Hey, Mister," the kid called after him, and Sam stopped, looked back. "I have another toy that's broken. It's my favorite. Could you fix it for me? Please?" The kid asked, looking hopeful.
Sam sighed, shrugging. "Let me take a look."
The kid smiled again, and got to his feet quickly, taking Sam's hand and leading him towards the motel's tornado shelter. Sam looked suspiciously at the kid who kept pulling him onward.
"Come on, it's in there!" The kid said.
"You play in there a lot?" Sam asked.
"My Daddy owns the motel," the kid explained. "It's my favorite toy, and it's broken," he added, looking pleadingly at Sam.
Sam sighed again, gave the kid a nod. "Okay. I'll see what I can do."
The kid beamed at him, opening the shelter door and standing aside. "It's in here," he said, bouncing on the balls of his feet, practically jumping up and down. "Way better than that train," he added as Sam passed him by, looking for the light switch. He turned the light on.
His eyes widened and the breath he took got caught in his chest.
"It's my favorite toy," the kid repeated. "Can you fix it?"
Sam looked from the 8 year old kid to his brother, lying bloody and unconscious on the cold concrete floor, blood splattered everywhere.
"Dean…"
"Best toy ever," the kid said and his smile grew. And then his eyes flashed black.
Fin
Yeah, it's probably a prologue or something, but that's as much as I can write while my muse is on a plane going somewhere warm... *sigh*
(no subject)
Date: 2007-11-03 09:26 am (UTC)And really, really, you had me fooled. At first I thought that maybe the kid was Dean, like he had gotten knocked back to childhood... then I figured it out. Sick, twisted, nasty frigging demon!!
Fix them please? :)
(no subject)
Date: 2007-11-03 09:31 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2007-11-03 10:43 am (UTC)Chances are it will be a story eventually, but I wanted to finish Picking Up Where We Left Off first. If my muse decides to come back...
(no subject)
Date: 2007-11-03 09:28 am (UTC)i read this fic.. i like it!!! *off to read ur other stories!
(no subject)
Date: 2007-11-03 10:53 am (UTC)Glad you enjoyed the story ^__^
(no subject)
Date: 2007-11-04 06:26 pm (UTC)I also thought maybe that kid was Dean somehow knocked back to childhood. I was not expecting a demon!
Great job! And please have this to be a prologue to something!
Kat
(no subject)
Date: 2007-11-05 05:37 am (UTC)Glad you enjoyed!
And I guess this goes into the big pile of Stuff I Need to Write, along with PUWWLO, and the shooting story, and the wee!Dean 'verse... *sigh*
(no subject)
Date: 2007-11-04 11:51 pm (UTC)Poor Dean...what will happen next?? Nail biting until whenever things resume!!
(no subject)
Date: 2007-11-05 05:39 am (UTC)Thanks for reading.
(no subject)
Date: 2007-11-05 05:15 pm (UTC)Ok, I can see it ending there -- but you have to do more!
Please?
(no subject)
Date: 2007-11-07 12:30 pm (UTC)Actually, I can't write anymore. I CAN'T. My muse ran away, and I have no time whatsoever. If that changes, sure, why not.
Thanks for reading.
(no subject)
Date: 2007-11-14 09:31 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2007-11-17 06:39 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2008-05-28 10:50 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2008-05-28 03:28 pm (UTC)Ok, so... let's say it is a prologue. It's just also the epilogue... *hides behind Dean*