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"Led Zeppelin Sucks" - Sam Wesson, Dean Smith - PG
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serialkarma.
Led Zeppelin Sucks
Supernatural. Sam Wesson, Dean Smith. Spoilers for 4x17. PG.
The AU of the AU where Smith & Wesson actually do take to the road and go demon-hunting. 494 words.
"Led Zeppelin sucks," says Dean.
"So change the station," Sam says, hands on the wheel and eyes on the road. And Dean does, going through talk shows and hip-hop and country ballads and the newest emo before settling on Don McLean singing "Starry, Starry Night", of all things. Dean Smith isn't his boss anymore, so Sam can freely tell him how much his taste in music is like what Sam finds on the bottom of his shoe.
Dean reponds, "Hey, I bet you knew all the words to American Pie once."
Sam says, quite truthfully, "No."
The bickering's just a lot of noise and static as they cruise up the I-95. They're just trying not to think about the werewolf they're gonna gank up in Keene. They've never ganked a werewolf before. They've been sticking to ghosts so far, the sad and easy spooks that don't know enough to leave the world they're not a part of anymore, dispelled easily with salt, fuel, and fire. Dean had said, "Sure, gotta crawl before you can walk, but we gotta walk sometime, Sammy. Let's kick this werewolf's ass."
He doesn't even mind it anymore when Dean calls him Sammy.
There are guns in the trunk. There is a rosary in his pocket. He is learning Latin; it's surprisingly easy. Sometimes when his mom calls, Sam doesn't even pick up because he's tired of repeating the same excuses, but Dean, he picks up his phone every time. "It's my dad/mom/sister," he'd say, and then he'd excuse himself, and when he comes back, he pretends like there's nothing wrong, grinning like a marionette.
Yeah, things have changed, and it's not just 'cos he's a ghostbuster now. It doesn't even feel like change, not really -- more like his vision clearing. Sam has never been to the east coast in his life, but he looks out at the landscape now and he thinks he recognizes this sky, this stretch of road.
"I'm going to have to veto this," Sam says, reaching for the radio.
"Come on, man," Dean says, "this is my favorite part."
"Driver picks the music, shotgun shuts his cakehole."
Dean says, "What?"
"Huh?"
Their eyes meet in the rearview mirror, and just as quickly they look away. Something twists in Sam's chest. There's this thing. There's this thing that keeps on fluttering just beyond Sam's reach, and he thinks he almost recognizes it some days. Sometimes when Sam says Dean's name, he feels like he's not really talking to Dean. It's like Sam knows the feel of the name in his mouth better than the person in front him, the one the name belongs to.
Sam stops on a station playing AC/DC's "Back in Black" and turns up the volume, and Dean rolls his eyes.
"News flash, Sammy," he says. "The eighties died twenty years ago."
"You'll learn to love it, jerk," Sam says.
"Bitch."
And just for that, Sam turns the volume up some more.
serialkarma.Led Zeppelin Sucks
Supernatural. Sam Wesson, Dean Smith. Spoilers for 4x17. PG.
The AU of the AU where Smith & Wesson actually do take to the road and go demon-hunting. 494 words.
"Led Zeppelin sucks," says Dean.
"So change the station," Sam says, hands on the wheel and eyes on the road. And Dean does, going through talk shows and hip-hop and country ballads and the newest emo before settling on Don McLean singing "Starry, Starry Night", of all things. Dean Smith isn't his boss anymore, so Sam can freely tell him how much his taste in music is like what Sam finds on the bottom of his shoe.
Dean reponds, "Hey, I bet you knew all the words to American Pie once."
Sam says, quite truthfully, "No."
The bickering's just a lot of noise and static as they cruise up the I-95. They're just trying not to think about the werewolf they're gonna gank up in Keene. They've never ganked a werewolf before. They've been sticking to ghosts so far, the sad and easy spooks that don't know enough to leave the world they're not a part of anymore, dispelled easily with salt, fuel, and fire. Dean had said, "Sure, gotta crawl before you can walk, but we gotta walk sometime, Sammy. Let's kick this werewolf's ass."
He doesn't even mind it anymore when Dean calls him Sammy.
There are guns in the trunk. There is a rosary in his pocket. He is learning Latin; it's surprisingly easy. Sometimes when his mom calls, Sam doesn't even pick up because he's tired of repeating the same excuses, but Dean, he picks up his phone every time. "It's my dad/mom/sister," he'd say, and then he'd excuse himself, and when he comes back, he pretends like there's nothing wrong, grinning like a marionette.
Yeah, things have changed, and it's not just 'cos he's a ghostbuster now. It doesn't even feel like change, not really -- more like his vision clearing. Sam has never been to the east coast in his life, but he looks out at the landscape now and he thinks he recognizes this sky, this stretch of road.
"I'm going to have to veto this," Sam says, reaching for the radio.
"Come on, man," Dean says, "this is my favorite part."
"Driver picks the music, shotgun shuts his cakehole."
Dean says, "What?"
"Huh?"
Their eyes meet in the rearview mirror, and just as quickly they look away. Something twists in Sam's chest. There's this thing. There's this thing that keeps on fluttering just beyond Sam's reach, and he thinks he almost recognizes it some days. Sometimes when Sam says Dean's name, he feels like he's not really talking to Dean. It's like Sam knows the feel of the name in his mouth better than the person in front him, the one the name belongs to.
Sam stops on a station playing AC/DC's "Back in Black" and turns up the volume, and Dean rolls his eyes.
"News flash, Sammy," he says. "The eighties died twenty years ago."
"You'll learn to love it, jerk," Sam says.
"Bitch."
And just for that, Sam turns the volume up some more.
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