This is... I have no idea what this is.

>> The Visitor

TITLE: The Visitor.
AUTHOR:ultraviolet9a
SPOILER: Not really. Up to 4.03 and generic stuff for later.
GENRE: Gen
CHARACTERS: John Winchester centric thing, with reference to other characters throughout the seasons (and pre-season).
SUMMARY: Uhm. It will all make sense in the end. Or so I hope.
RATING: PG13 for potty-mouth.
FEEDBACK: Dude…duh.
DISCLAIMER: Don’t own, no profit, don’t sue.
NOTE: for animotus, muse-magnet extraordinaire.
BETA: by shiny may7fic








On the night of his twentieth birthday, John Winchester is still in Vietnam. He shares piss-smelling shots with Jim and cracks dirty jokes with Deacon. They smoke cigarettes, drag after drag, snuffs moving like fireflies in the dark. John looks at his companions, then the night sky, wondering what the future holds.

Turns out the future holds a lot. It holds getting back home in one piece, carrying medals and the burning desire to make something of his life. A black Impala he’ll love once he drives her. A blonde girl named Mary he’ll fall for so deep he’ll never see daylight again. It holds a wedding and two births. A fire and everything avalanching after that.

But that comes after. What the future holds right after the night John turns twenty star-gazing are bullets; the world fading into blood as Deacon carries him back to the chopper, telling him not to fucking dare die on him, don’t you fucking dare, John or I’ll kill you myself. It holds the shrapnel scar that will run alongside his face for the rest of his life; Jim Murphy sitting beside comatose him, thanking him for saving his life, but why’d you have to take those bullets for me, you idiot? folded hands, praying to God and for the first time believing the words.

John can see all that. Sees his wounded body, closed eyes, nurses. Jim praying and Deacon waiting, waiting for him to wake up. Can hear himself speaking but neither Jim nor Deacon hear his confused frustration and the fear that starts building up, as he stands next to his own broken body.

He can see his hand go through it as if he’s made of smoke and realizes that this is not a dream. Not exactly.

That’s when he first sees the stranger.

.:::.
( Visitor )

>>Fry

TITLE: Fry
AUTHOR:ultraviolet9a
SPOILER: none.
GENRE: Gen. (could be debated)
CHARACTERS: Dean, Castiel
SUMMARY: uh…
RATING: PG-13
FEEDBACK: Dude…duh.
DISCLAIMER: I don’t own them. Don’t sue me. If I did own them, I would have run off somewhere exotic with them as my…uh…companions. And not many clothes involved.
BETA: by shiny pdragon76



He has the fry in his hand for a long time before he decides to put it in his mouth. He looks at it, holds it up at different angles, observes the golden-yellow colour of it. He brings it to his nose, sniffs, then turns it some more between his fingertips.

Dean drops his head on the shiny plastic surface of the table.

“Just.put.it.in.your.mouth, Cas.” His voice is muffled by his arms. “It’s a fry, not some unholy shit.”

“I am deciding, Dean.”
( Fry )

>> They are not all saints

TITLE: They are not all saints
AUTHOR: ultraviolet9a
SPOILER: Vaguely for all season 4 and for The Graveyard Book.
GENRE: Gen. Supernatural/The Graveyard Book.
CHARACTERS: Sam, Dean, Silas
SUMMARY: “If you drop that match, I will have to harm you.”
RATING: PG13.
FEEDBACK: Dude… duh.
DISCLAIMER: Don’t own, no profit, don’t sue.
NOTES: Dear Mr Gaiman. Please please please don’t sue me. I meant no offence, it’s just that Silas haunted me. Dear Mr Kripke… well, you know how that one goes now, don’t you?
BETA: by lovely kattahj



Lisa, vampires are make-believe, like elves, gremlins and Eskimos.
-Homer Simpson



Like another story, years ago, this too starts in a cemetery. It’s not an ornate or overtly large one, just a cemetery this side of a small no-name town with an increasing rate in mysterious deaths the last weeks.

There is nothing unusual in the night breeze and the rustling leaves of the trees, nothing unusual about the silhouette of the town in the darkness. What’s unusual is that this tiny cemetery seems to have forgotten that graves are supposed to be covered up and the mausoleums locked, and it is strewn with salt and doused with gasoline from one end to the other. It makes one wonder who would have so much time and stamina, gasoline and salt to do all this, but the answer is probably easy: this is a hunter’s job. A Winchester one, to be more specific.

“If you drop that match, I will have to harm you.”

It isn’t a threat. It’s a statement, an undisputable fact like the Earth is round or This is the middle of nowhere (sort of) in the middle of the night and this guy has appeared out of the dark shadows around us and most importantly, we didn’t hear him.
( The stranger )

>> What was silent

TITLE: What was silent
AUTHOR:ultraviolet9a
SPOILER: stretches from pre-series up to 4.07
GENRE: Gen
CHARACTERS: Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Bobby Singer, John Winchester, Daniel Elkins, Castiel
SUMMARY: Like father, like son.
RATING: PG13. Just cussing, really.
FEEDBACK: Dude…duh.
DISCLAIMER: Don’t own, no profit, don’t sue.
NOTE: sweet charity fic. may7fic is crazy awesome and bought me. She wanted a story about John’s fallout with Elkins (that affects the boys up to the present) and she wanted some shiny sent John’s way and she wanted the Dean-John father-son thing in all its Winchester glory. I tried to stay close to that, but I tweaked it. A lot. Because I wanted Castiel, too. Amongst others. And wanted season 4 involved as well. Ahem.
BETA: All the pretty polishing I couldn’t have done without the shiny beta of the sparkly chemm80 and the amazing erinrua. Much love to e313for the handholding as well. Thank you, shiny ladies.



Bobby’s lifting stacks and stacks of books. The dust still flutters in the air, caught unaware in the draughts of Bobby’s whirlwind moves. It’s disconcerting, really, the whole whirlwind thing. If Bobby was a force of nature, he’d be something steady and unyielding, like a mountain, or a glacier. Something with deep roots, close to the ground, bearing weight. Living with it. Something with fewer moves, but heavier momentum.

He’s moving stacks around, freeing long lost surfaces of furniture, all the while grumbling “I’m sure it’s here somewhere”. One book is balancing on the edge, forming the top of a paper tower. Dean shoves his hands deeper in his pockets and watches it lose the fight with gravity.

Sam’s hand shoots out, grabs it midair, places it on top again, using his thigh to keep another book tower steady.

“Are you sure, Bobby?” Sam, the human book prop, says. “You sure it’s not somewhere else?”

“No.” It comes through gritted teeth. “If you say you ain’t got it, it’s here alright. It’s got to be here.”
( What was silent )

>> In this theatre

TITLE: In this theatre
AUTHOR:ultraviolet9a
SPOILER: 4.02-4.03
GENRE: Gen
CHARACTERS: Castiel mostly
SUMMARY: What do you think angels do in their free time?
RATING: PG13.
FEEDBACK: Dude…duh.
DISCLAIMER: Would I own him if I started praying? What? No? Damn.
NOTE:e313 wanted a sort of interpretation of the scenes between Castiel and Dean. I don’t think I ended up on the same road as her, but it’s a road and all roads lead somewhere. So there.
BETA: by lovely catdancerz



At first it feels strange. The whole humanity thing. The feeling of mortal flesh wrapped around celestial essence, and it’s odd how the flesh defines it somehow. Defines him. He tries to be gentle with the soul of his host, lulls it into some sort of divine ecstasy. Some sort of sleep, even though Castiel isn’t entirely sure what sleep feels like.

He learns to use the body carefully. Tries not to damage it, even when he feels like his own being needs to stretch, expand, unfold, be limitless again, the body holding him inside with tight stitches.

He lost six brothers this week.

He doesn’t want to have to use another vessel, even when invited. He understands how this one does not belong to him. A mere detail in the grander scheme, Castiel knows; a mere detail in the bigger picture, and it’s always about the bigger picture. But his thoughts often wander to the woman he blinded.

When he isn’t at war, he roams cities. He roams towns. Crosses forests and fields and water. Perches on windowsills and edges, bridges and roofs. Tries to look inside.
( Castiel )

>>Spur

TITLE: Spur
AUTHOR: ultraviolet9a
SPOILER: not really
GENRE: gen
CHARACTERS: Bobby Singer, Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester
SUMMARY: Bobby won’t add anything more to that. Spare words, practical words. People need to figure those out for themselves.
RATING: PG13
FEEDBACK: Dude…duh.
NOTES: 1,458 words. For the spn_summergen exchange, lovely i_speak_tongue wanted Dean and Bobby moments/missing scenes of early season 2. I tried to stay close to that, but, you know Bobby; he has a mind of his own. So don’t sue. Just playing around, is all. Much, much love and gratitude to the smart and lovely pdragon76 for the beta.



When he looks at the car, he’s already mourning the boy.
( Bobby’s seen things. )