Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural or its characters - these were created by Eric Kripke - I'm just borrowing them. I'm not making any commercial gain. No harm or infringement intended.
E/O Challenge: Snap. 3x100- and a 200-word drabble. #1: Dean wins Sam's soul back. #2: Crowley takes advantage of Dean's weak points. #3: The Winchesters unknowingly have their own documenter.#4: Sam and Dean remember. No spoilers.
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Snap Judgment
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A/N: Dean wins Sam's soul back. 100 words. Set whenever, post-S6. No spoilers. For Fallenangel218's birthday.
The Seventh Seal it ain't
"I met Death today. We are playing chess." – Antonius Block, 'The Seventh Seal' (1957)
"Thanks for getting my soul back again, Dean," Sam grinned.
"No problem," said Dean, distracted by the all-you-can-eat buffet. "Can't believe he made me play for it," he muttered to himself.
Sam was astounded. "You know how to play chess?"
Dean snorted. "Please. I suggested pool."
"Really? You hustled Death for my soul?"
"Nah, turns out he'd never played."
"I guess the scythe would get in the way," laughed Sam. "So, what did you play?"
"Cards. Once we found a game he knew."
"Oh? What was it?"
"Poker," Dean bluffed. There was no way he was admitting they'd played Snap.
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A/N: Crowley takes advantage of Dean's weak points. 100 words. Set season 8. No spoilers. Warning: torture.
Achilles' Finger
"I know you've got the tablet; so for the last time, tell me where you've hidden it."
"What, so you'll let us go?" asked Sam, his voice dripping with scorn.
Dean just gave Crowley the finger.
"Now there's an idea, thank you Dean," smirked Crowley as he took Dean's hand and, with a quick motion, snapped the bone of the offending digit.
"Do say if you change your mind," added Crowley in between screams. "Oh dear, I seem to have run out of fingers."
Crowley made a point of motioning to Sam and raised an eyebrow.
"Okay, okay," shouted Dean.
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A/N: The Winchesters unknowingly have their own documenter. 100 words. Crossover with the BBC's 'Wolfblood'. For Lily: her idea, her fandom.
Lone Wolf
As Shannon followed the black car, keeping a careful distance, she pondered on how far she'd come, not only in distance, but also in understanding of how things really worked.
To think it'd all started with a school photography club and a few grainy snaps no one could explain!
People needed to know the truth; they just weren't ready for it. But when that day came she'd have the evidence to prove it.
The Winchesters were her window on that world, they just didn't know it. They went where the monsters were, and where they went Shannon followed. And documented.
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A/N: Sam and Dean remember. 200 words. Set post-'8.06 Southern Comfort'. No spoilers. For Remembrance Sunday.
We Shall Keep the Faith
"Fear not that ye have died for naught/We'll teach the lesson that ye wrought" – 'We Shall Keep the Faith' (1918), Moina Michael "The Poppy Lady"
There'd been an unexpected cold snap and, despite his layers, Dean was shivering from a night spent in the Impala. Unable to sleep, he'd needed space to think and breathe and stretch his legs.
As he stared out over the fields stained red by the rising sun he heard the car door and the crunch of gravel as his brother walked up behind him.
Dean didn't turn; he stared ahead, resolute, as he spoke. "Sorry, did I wake you?"
Sam cleared his throat. "Couldn't sleep?"
Dean sighed, "Listen, what I said..."
"We've been over this already."
So like Dad. Once he's made up his mind there's no changing it, thought Dean. "I know but... forget about me. It's... it's like you weren't being faithful to their memory..."
"Who?" There was a more than a hint of anger in Sam's voice.
"Do you really need the list? How 'bout everyone we've ever lost; they've all fallen keeping others safe."
Sam laid a hand on Dean's shoulder. "You don't really think that about me do you? I'll never forget them."
"But, they passed the torch..."
"They'd have wanted a better life for us."
They stood in silence, side-by-side and watched the dawn.
(;,;)