A/N: Sorry for the long wait between updates, kiddos. In reality, not as long as it seemed, because last week's update actually got assigned to my other canon project, "Confessions of a Boy King".
I always work my prompts in order, and next in line was "Sam comforts Henry about never being able to go back to his family". It was a truly excellent prompt, but once I had written it, I realized that it belonged in "Confessions of a Boy King" and not "How To Fix a Winchester", so you can find it there.
The next prompt was "Dean searching the wreckage of a library where he had left Sam to research-and then a tornado struck.", submitted by Colby's Girl.
Another really, really amazing prompt, but my mind has been a little scattered this week and I was having difficulty coming up with something good. Since you guys take the time to send me amazing prompts, I don't want to ever address a prompt with a less than inspired update, so I have just been letting the prompt simmer in my mind for a while.
Plus, new updates to all my shows kinda fried my brain.
But...November starts in a week. That's right- NaNo.
I was going to attempt an original works project for NaNo, but life got busy with my Mom being hospitalized, so I didn't get a chance to do any pre-work, outlines, or research. I can't function as a writer without these things (at least, not on big projects), so, instead of original work, the goal is to get 150,000 words published to my five current projects (all three AU's, and both Canon fics).
Anyway, the main point of this absurdly long author's note is to let you guys no that for NaNo, at the beginning of every chapter I publish (on any project), I would like to start the chapter with an encouraging quote about writing.
I have been gathering them on Pinterest, and I really feel like they help when my work ethic is dragging. So, I know many of you write, and all of you read, so if you have a good one I can use, send it my way (preferably with the name of whomever it is quoted from). If I use it, I will credit it to both the person who said it, and the person who submitted it to me, along with your profile address (if you want me too), so that my readers can jump over and check out your stories if you'd like.
I have such amazing readers, and I've never encountered a troll on this site, and I think this is so important to the writing process. I want to try and spread the love around. Everyone feel's good about high traffic numbers, favorites, follows and reviews, so I want to help you guys too, especially if you are trying to get a new project off the ground.
One of my favorite quotes about writing is a great example- "Write hard and clear about what hurts – Ernest Hemingway".
Much love to the fandom!
As Always,
EverReader
Disclaimer: Not mine.
How To Fix A Winchester- Chapter Fourteen
"The Unfortunate Thing About Kansas"
Dean stared at the wreckage in front of him, aghast.
Only two hours before, the red brick building had been a quaint sight, cozy and inviting.
It had also been the public library of Gale, Kansas.
It was also, also been the place where Dean had left Sam to do research two hours ago, while he went to check a cemetery the next county over.
And now...it was just so much rubble.
The tornado had struck it dead on.
"Sir! "Sir, you can't come through here, emergency personal are working..." The police officer tried in vain to keep Dean behind the yellow crime scene tape.
The entire block was a disaster, trees torn and uprooted, buildings in bricks and pieces, telephone and electric lines askew. Cars were overturned, water was spewing from a nearby hydrant, and in the distance, sirens of all kinds could be heard, along with weeping and shouting.
"My brother!" Dean yelled, pushing past the officer forcefully. "SAM! SAMMY!"
"Sir, you can't-" The officer tried again.
Dean whipped around, shoving a fake badge into the man's chest. He didn't even know what badge he had used, but apparently it appeased the man, because he stopped trying to block Dean's way.
He'd tried to get here sooner, but the roads were a disaster, filled with cars and emergency personnel, looking more like a war zone than a small Midwest town of five thousand.
"My brother was here doing some research, I mean, work. Where are the evacuees? Where are the survivors being bussed to?" Dean said, voice brooking no arguments.
The officer hesitated. "Sir, I'm so sorry."
"Don't be sorry, help me find my brother!" Dean snapped frantically, stepping to the far end of the wreckage. The area was totaled, as is a bomb had leveled the area.
Dean couldn't even make out where the front door had been. He turned back to the man. "Well, help me damn it!"
"Sir, I'm sorry but...there were no survivors at the library." The man said, with sympathy in his voice.
Dean felt the world try to shift, to slip away from him as black dots danced in front of his eyes. "Shut the hell up!" He yelled, forcing down his panic. "Look at this place, there could be people still trapped in there, we have to get them out-"
The man was shaking his head. "Sir, Officer Daniels, the canine unit came through. The dogs located three...victims, but it was already to late. They've cleared the site. We're just...waiting for free buses to..." The man trailed off awkwardly, but Dean knew what he had been meaning to say.
They were waiting for ambulances to free up.
So they could move the bodies to the morgue for identification.
"Show me." Dean demanded through numb lips, feeling far away suddenly, as if a stranger were in charge of his limbs, of walking and talking and breathing.
Sam.
The man hesitated. "Officer Daniels, I'm not sure that's such a good idea..."
Dean turned wide eyes towards the man, suddenly furious and far, far more dangerous than any damn act of God or nature.
"Show me."
The policeman swallowed hard, but nodded.
"There were only three. One was an elderly man, another a woman. And...one younger man. Tall..." The officer added, glancing hopefully at Dean in case his information ruled Sam out.
Dean forced himself not to sway as he turned bleak eyes towards the man. "Let's do it."
Without another word, the officer lead Dean over to one side of the worst of the wreckage, where a dirty and dinged squad car with a cracked windshield was parked, lights circling, casting whimsical and obscene shadows across the macabre surroundings.
Dean forced himself to walk with wooden legs, still outside is body, floating somewhere else, anywhere else but here, where he was about to identify his brother's-
(Not Sam-Not Sam-Not Sam-Oh God, Please Not Sammy)
Body.
Beside the squad car, shrouded in black tarps, lay three small objects.
In reality, they weren't really small, especially the one on the far right, which was easily over six feet long, but somehow they all (especially the one on the far right) seemed far too small to have ever been alive, to have housed people, with lives and thoughts and feelings and hopes and dreams-
(And Sam. How could Sam ever possible look so small?)
How could a black tarp ever manage to conceal someone as big, as alive as Sam Winchester?
The officer hesitated one last time.
"Sir, are you sure-"
"Do. It." Dean said, sure that if he didn't do it now, he never would, that he would simply run off screaming into the night, forever to live in that magical 'someplace else' where no one, especially Sam Winchester, could ever lay so cold and still under a black tarp.
The man pulled the tarp off the body on the far right, and immediately, Dean was forced to lunge to the side, forcefully losing the contents of his lunch.
"Oh, god..." He gasped, struggling to force down his nausea. "Oh god."
"Sir, I am truly sorry." The officer said.
"Don't." Dean replied, finally straightening.
"That's not Sam."
Supernatural Supernatural Supernatural Supernatural Supernatural Supernatural Supernatural Supernatural Supernatural
(an hour prior)
Sam jerked suddenly, brought out of his reverie when the man sat down beside him.
"Whew! It's really storming out there. I almost stayed home." The man said, smiling at Sam in a friendly way.
Sam smiled back reservedly, hunter's mind instinctively cataloging the man's appearance, his features.
Light hair, blue eyes, freckles.
And tall, maybe only an inch shorter than Sam.
"Yeah, sounds like. Were they calling for weather like this?" Sam asked, as he glanced down at his watch.
Dean would be back for his in about an hour, starving no doubt.
"Yeah, they've been issuing tornado watch's on and off all day, but a tornado hasn't struck Gale for like, a hundred years. They always go around." The guy said easily.
'Or they were due for one', Sam thought to himself, starting to put his research materials away.
He wished he'd managed to find what they were looking for, but so far he'd struck out.
He could find no reason why the farmhouse on the far edge of town should be haunted. Dean was following up the only real lead, two conflicting accounts about the burial site of a child who'd died of influenza several decades back. If Dean located the child's grave in the county cemetery he had gone to check out, then the account of the child being buried on the farm's land was false, and they were back to square one.
A woman with a little girl in tow walked by then, speaking quietly into the phone. "Okay, Tony. We're checking out now. Maggie's picked out her books. We'll go straight home, but I think you're overreacting, a tornado's never hit Gale."
The man looked over at Sam. "See what I mean?"
Sam nodded politely, moving to boot down his laptop. Within five minutes, he had put away the rest of his books, and was headed towards the front door. There was a cafe down the street, he could shoot Dean a text to meet him there for some dinner.
As he was walking by the front desk, he heard a woman's distressed voice. "What do you mean, there are no cabs available? How do you run out of cabs? Do you see the storm outside? My daughter and I can't walk in this! Forty-five minutes, are you nuts? There's a tornado watch in effect, don't you listen to the radio- he hung up. Great."
It was the woman from before, and now her daughter was looking up with her with liquid eyes. "Mommy, my teacher says anytime there is a tornado watch, we should go to the basement."
"I know honey, I know. Your teacher is right." The woman soothed. She looked over at the elderly librarian. "You don't have a storm shelter, by any chance?" She asked hopefully.
The older woman shrugged. "Tornado's never hit Gale." She said apologetically.
"Mommy!" The little girl tugged on her mother's hand.
"I know baby, I know. But something's wrong with the car. I can't get it to start, and Daddy's not off of work for another three hours." The mother said distractedly, looking stressed out and close to tears.
"Um, I'm sorry, I couldn't help but overhear. I'm not the world's greatest mechanic, but would you like me to take a look?" Sam offered, feeling sympathetic towards the poor woman.
Both mother and daughter were clean and dressed appropriately for the weather, but the clothes themselves had the 'worn-often' look too familiar to Sam after a lifetime of wearing hand-me downs and resale store bargains.
The woman hesitated, passing her eyes cautiously over Sam's tall frame. But then she glanced outside, at the howling of the wind, and nodded reluctantly.
"Okay, yeah. Please. I don't know a thing about cars. My husband always says I need to learn, but honestly, it's all just nuts, bolts and wires to me." She said. "I'm Ellie, and this is my daughter, Maggie."
Sam smiled back. "I know the feeling. My brother Dean's the real mechanic in the family, but a few years back I...had to learn the basics. No promises, but maybe we can at least rule a couple of things out. Where are you parked?"
"Right out in the front lot. And here I thought I'd gotten lucky with grabbing a close parking spot. Isn't that the way it goes?" She said with a deep sigh.
Sam smiled reassuringly. "Let's see what we can do."
She lead him out front to where an old, red Pontiac was parked.
Sam knew his hunch about money being tight for the family was correct when he saw the car, with it's rust and hail damage, but the inside was clean, and he, of all people, knew what it meant to make-do.
He popped the hood, doing his best to ignore the angry howling of the wind, and intermittent bursts of rain.
"Maggie, honey, wait in the car where it's dry, okay?" Ellie said, shooing her daughter inside the shelter of the backseat before coming to stand beside Sam. "How's it looking?"
"Well, your battery and cables look good, are you getting anything when you turn the key?" Sam asked.
"Just a sarcastic noise." She replied with an apologetic smile.
"I'm gonna check the fluids, and the fuel line. You should wait in the car, it's getting cold out here."
It was, too, the air already much cooler than when they had first exited the library.
She shook her head adamantly. "No way. You're doing us a favor. The least I can do is weather the storm with you."
Ten minutes later, Sam crawled out from beneath the car. "I think I found the problem. You have a hole in a fuel line. The good news is, it's a fairly cheap fix, the bad news is, you are going to need a part. Your husband can probably do it, though."
Ellie sighed. "Well, thank you, Sam. At least I know what to tell him. We'll just have to go back in the library and wait for our cab."
Just then, the little girl opened to door. "Mommy, I'm hungry. Can we get some food?" She asked piteously, pointing up the street at the diner.
Ellie hesitated, a heart broken and slightly ashamed look on her face. "Oh, Maggie, sweetie. The cab will be here soon..."
Sam guessed she was afraid she wouldn't have enough money for food and a cab.
"Actually, I'm starving, and my brother is at least forty five minutes out still. Why don't you guys join me, my treat. The cab can meet you there." Sam offered.
Ellie shook her head immediately. "Oh, no, we couldn't possibly, you've been more than helpful."
Sam smiled at her understandingly. "Really, I want to. My brother and I grew up on the road, my father...traveled for his work. I know what it's like to...have to keep your priorities straight."
Sam hoped he had gotten his point across as delicately as possible, he didn't want to make Ellie feel ashamed for having a bad break.
She hesitated again, but Maggie said, "Please Mommy, I'm really, really, really hungry. I'm starving."
Ellie looked at Sam. "Well...Sam, I guess you are just our guardian angel tonight."
Sam laughed awkwardly. "Well, I'm definitely not an angel, but fortunately..." He swooped down, picking Maggie up and setting her on his shoulders, where the girl squealed in delight.
"The diner is just down the street, so we don't need wings, do we, Maggie?" Sam finished as they started down the road.
"No!" Maggie crowed in delight, clapping her hands and earning a tired chuckle from her mom.
They walked quickly, Sam setting the little girl down once they'd gained the entrance to the diner.
It was nearly deserted, with only one waitress and the cook working.
"Hey Ellie, heck of a storm." The waitress said.
"Yes, Agnes." Ellie agreed, glancing out the window. "But, actually, look. The wind just died down. Maybe it's passed already."
Sam glanced out the window, every sense suddenly on red alert, because Ellie was right.
Only moments before the howling wind had been whipping the tree branches back in forth with nearly hurricane like strength.
But now, everything was dead still, and Sam's skin was suddenly prickling as the barometric pressure dropped.
"Mommy, what's that noise?" Maggie said, as Sam placed a hand on the glass of the window.
"Is it a train?" The little girl added.
"No." Sam said, suddenly energized as the vibrations in the glass confirmed his fears. "Agnes! Do you have a storm shelter?"
"What!" Ellie cried, moving forward to look out the window. "Are you serious?"
Agnes was shaking her head. "No, tornadoes never-"
Sam cut her off. "They do today! What about the freezer?"
The waitress's eyes widened. "Yeah, yeah. This way!"
"Run!" Sam commanded, as the sound level increased. The window was now overtly vibrating, as were all the other glasses in the diner.
Sam scooped up Maggie, shepherding Ellie and Agnes in front of him as they ran to the back.
Supernatural Supernatural Supernatural Supernatural Supernatural Supernatural Supernatural Supernatural Supernatural
Dean's relief was so intense he actually had to sit for a moment as the world stopped spinning and his ears began to work again.
"Sir, Sir? Officer Daniels, to you need medical attention?"
"I don't understand..." Dean finally mumbled, "He was going to wait for me, and we were going to get dinner..."
Dean knew he was babbling, but he couldn't seem to help it, his relief was too big for his body to contain and it was determined to seek freedom via his confused rambles.
"You were going to eat?" Officer Daniels said, looking at Dean suddenly.
"Any chance he was going to meet you at the diner up the street? There were a couple of people who sheltered in the freezer there. They all made it, but a shelf toppled over on two of them. The cook and another man were caught under it. We haven't identified the other man yet. He was knocked unconscious. They were all taken To St. Christopher's."
Dean looked up at the man, hope in his eyes. "How do I get there?"
The hospital was a madhouse, too many wounded, and not enough beds.
"A man, tall, six foot four, brought by ambulance with a head injury!" Dean insisted, banging his hand against the counter in frustration as the secretary shook her head again.
"Sir, we haven't checked in anyone like that yet. Just look around!" She said.
"To be honest, most of these people aren't checked in yet. Bon Jovi could be here, and I wouldn't know it."
"Then what the hell good are you-" Dean started, but was cut off by a small, forceful tug on his sleeve.
He looked down, startled, at the little girl with mussed blonde curls.
"Are you looking for Sam?" She whispered. "He said his brother would come soon."
"Maggie!" A woman, battered and dirty and determined, swooped in. "What are you doing, honey, you can't just wander off!"
"I'm looking for Sam's brother." She replied. "I promised I would."
"I am!" Dean said, to fast and to loud, a fresh wave of desperate relief coursing through him.
"I'm Sam's brother."
"Well...shit." The woman said, finally appearing to run out of calm. "You better come with me. He's in this room down the hall. He woke up in the ambulance, so they triaged him over here."
Dean practically ran after her, ripping open the curtain.
"SAMMY?" He said, knees nearly giving out again when he met his brother's tired and pain filed hazel eyes.
"Hey, Dean." Sam greeted him with his trademark crooked grin, and Dean's heart might have broke into a thousand, million pieces and reshaped itself into some new, wild design in the course of a single heartbeat.
Sam looked horrible, dirty and bruised and scratched and gloriously, gloriously alive.
"You're alive!" Dean said, catching Sam in a bone crushing hug.
"Yeah..." Sam said with a pained wheeze. "Also, might have a rib broken..."
"Shit!" Dean said, jerking back but not completely relinquishing his hold on his brother.
His living, breathing, brother.
"We all are, thanks to your brother." The woman added with a grateful smile. The smile faltered. "I heard the library..."
"Gone." Dean said quietly, shaking his head to indicate that no one had survived.
The woman paled, closing her eyes. She opened them again, looking right at Sam. "You saved us." She said brokenly. "We were going back in, to wait...and..." She trailed off, visibly forcing down tears.
"You saved us." She whispered again.
"That's what he does." Dean said proudly, swallowing down his own tears as he brushed a blood matted lock of hair out of the way to examine Sam's head wound closer.
He steadfastly ignored the shaking of his hand, of his whole body.
(Alive-alive-alive-Sam's alive)
"That's who he is. My brother." Dean whispered as Sam let his tired eyes drift down.
"Sam."