Something's Just About to Break

by UndercoverMoffat

"Here's to the end of the world." But something about his tone doesn't say metaphorical. A chance meeting in a bar. Indirect sequel to Something's Just on The Fray, but can be read as a stand-alone.

Something's Just About to Break
by HR

Indirect Sequel to Something's Just on The Fray but can be read as a stand-alone
Fringe/Supernatural: Walter Bishop and Dean Winchester
Set in Season 2 for Fringe, Season 4 for Supernatural
Friendship
Rated K+ Because they're in a bar and Dean said a word
A/N: Spoilers through Season 2 of Fringe, Season 4 of Supernatural. Another of them random chance meetings that I'm convinced happens between the characters of various fandoms all the time.
Disclaimer: Please, I haven't seen Season 3 of Fringe yet! And I if I owned Supernatural, Destiel would've been canon like 3 seasons ago.

Walter rather likes root beer floats.

He also doesn't hesitate to ask for one at the local bar, a large smile plastered across his aged features.

"Come on, buddy, I don't have time for playing games."

"Oh, but I'm not!" Walter replies sincerely, leaning forward with wide eyes.

"Hey, buddy, just give him the damned root beer float, would ja?"

Walter blinks, and looks over startled. A young man with short, dirty blonde hair and a smattering of freckles across his nose sits across the way from Walter. There's a cocky air about him that just happens to be weighted down by something Walter thinks is familiar, but unidentifiable. The young man grins and holds out a scarred hand, "Dean Winchester."

The name sparks at the back of Walter's mind but he pushes it away – no, he can't think about these sort of things now. "Oh! I, uh –" he remembers Dean's hand and takes it in both of his. "I'm Walter Bishop."

"Hey, Walt," Dean raises a shot glass in cheers. "Here's to the end of the world."

"Excuse me?" Walter starts, pulling at the collar of his button-up. He can't know, can't he?

"Just a figure of speech," Dean looks away as he says this, but something in his tone does not say metaphorical.

Dean stands suddenly, eyes focused on a figure slipping out the door across the bar. He throws a quick twenty on the table and gives Walter another parting smile before dashing off, calling out one syllable. "Cass!"

Walter watches him go, oblivious to the fact there's a delicious root beer float in front of him.

"Walter." There's a sudden hand on his shoulder, and he jumps, turning quickly, and peering into observant eyes.

"Oh, hello, December."

In the periphery of his vision, he sees a 1967 Chevy Impala disappear down the road.