cowboyguy | Cowboyguy's "Starting Over" Supernatural meme! (prompts post)

Alright, here goes...

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Hi, everyone! Welcome to my first ever Supernatural commentfic meme! In honor of the fact that I'm going to be moving soon, the theme of this meme is "starting over." God knows the Winchesters have been separated and reunited, argued and apologized, died and been brought back enough times, so I figure we've got lots of source material to start from. As long as there's something along this general theme, I don't care what you do. It can range from, "Hey, let's fix this apocalypse we started." to "Sammy, I'm sorry, I've been a total jerk today. Want a pizza?" (And who doesn't love a good curtainfic?) And, because it's me, any h/c you add in there can never, ever be a bad thing. No mpreg, though, because it generally squicks me. And warn for various levels of kink or possible triggers, just in case. Besides that, do what you want, and we'll operate under the "don't like, don't read" policy.

So here's what you do:
1. Post prompts. As many prompts as you like, one per comment. Seriously, there is no such thing as too many prompts.
2. Especially since we're getting closer to season 10, warn for spoilers. Since I have some friends who still haven't seen season 9, I'm gonna count that as spoiler-y, too. Anything up through the end of 8, though, we'll assume everyone has seen.
3. Any pairings or non-pairings you want. Wincest, gen, Destiel, whatever.
4. Fill the prompts! All the prompts! Fill as many prompts as you want, and multiple fills for one prompt are totally okay. Either post it as a reply to the original comment, or post with a link to the fic.
5. (Pssst! Share this with your friends. The more people, the better!)
6. Prompting and posting will continue either as long as people are interested, or until I'm drowned in a sea of fic. No deadlines on fics, either. We can wait. :)
7. Everybody have fun, be nice, and have an awesome time!

Let the prompting begin!

(Fills post located here.)

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

A short scene. Don't let this prevent anyone from writing another fill for this awesome prompt. I just couldn't get this image out of my head.

It was so quiet that the crunch of every footstep on the rubble that used to be their house was magnified. Dean couldn’t hear the usual sounds of birds in trees, because the trees had been pulled up and thrown about. Dean couldn’t hear the usual sounds of cars on the neighborhood streets because the streets were largely torn to pieces. But Dean could hear each snap and crack, each shift and slide, as he made his way through the mess.

There was a mass of scarlet fabric and metal springs that used to be couch he’d saved two weeks of salary at the garage to buy; it had been especially long so that Sam could spread out on it after a hard day and relax without hanging off either end. There was a hole where the fridge used to be in their kitchen; Sam had always kept it well-stocked. There were clothes from the upstairs closets mixed in with the carpet from the living room. There were broken bedposts nestled next to the front door’s coat rack. There was a toilet tank on one side of the rubbish pile and a toilet seat on the other.

Dean and Sam had seen enough disasters over the years to know to be careful. The insurance agent had already done an assessment, so now it was up to them to decide to take the money and run or rebuild from foundation up… after they cleared out anything they could salvage. There wasn’t much, though.

Dean listened to his footsteps, wincing every time a particularly loud something snapped underfoot. But he was more observant of his brother’s footsteps. While Dean’s path was slow, filled with disbelief that the house they’d tried so hard to have and make normal for six whole months had been destroyed in just one night, just one hurricane. Sam’s footsteps, however, were frantic. He shuffled and scurried all over, plucking out a waterlogged book and tucking it under his arm until finding one in slightly better condition and discarding the first for this one instead. Finally, under a pile of dark wood, he found what he was really looking for.

So it was when the footsteps stopped that Dean grew concerned. Filled with worry, he turned to find Sam standing in the middle of their ruin of a house, clutching a soggy photo album. Dean’s emotions, already so close to their breaking point, boiled over instinctively into a heart-wrenching, “Oh, Sammy…” The photos. Dean’s little brother was going to lose it.

For six months, you couldn’t pry his younger brother away from his new camera. While Dean fixed up the house, Sam documented it. It was the set of family photos he’d never had growing up. It was evidence that after all they’d been through, they finally ended up somewhere good. It was every happy moment from first paycheck to expanding from one bookcase to two matching ones. It was birthdays with candles and matches they kept in a junk drawer instead of a lighter used to burn the bones of unrestful ghosts. It was bowls of microwave popcorn during cheesy, late-night B-movie marathons instead of infomercials on motel TV sets. It was moving the lamp from one side of the room to the other and then back again as they figured out how best to use the room instead of flashlights searching abandoned haunted asylums. It was matching towels and washcloths instead of bloody motel linens used to clean up injuries after hunts. And Sam had captured it all, printed off every photo at the local drug store, and put together an album. An album of them. Of their success. Tangible proof that they’d finally made it.

If neighbors came by for a barbeque, they could see the framed photo of Dean working on the impala in the garage with his new tool set. Or they could see the framed photo of Sam’s last birthday where he’d been so tall the streamers woven across the room looked like they would decapitate him. Or they could leaf through the photo album and see Dean raking leaves or Sam’s organized spice rack. Now there was nothing—not even evidence of the memories.

Sam dropped the album back into the pile of rubble. Several damaged photos slid out of the little white corners that had held them in place. From one, a fluffy white sheepdog grinned up at them as Sam threw a ball across the yard. In another, Dean sampled the winning pie at the local county fair. As the dog in the car barked to them, its head sticking out the Impala’s back window, Sam stared down at the photo album and began to laugh.

This was all Dean could take. The sound of their damaged things underfoot. Their dog barking from the safety of their car, not understanding why it couldn’t go back home with them. And his brother swiftly going to pieces amidst the destruction. Dean couldn’t take it. They’d tried so hard to have a normal life here and now, like everything else in the Winchesters’ lives, it was gone.

Dean balled up his hands into fists at his side. The barking got louder. The laughter seemed to also. “Sammy,” Dean started, pleading. They had to leave. He couldn’t take another second of this torture.

But then Sam turned and Dean saw Sam’s expression. His whole face was lit up with laughter, his eyes wet with tears that weren’t remotely sad. “So get this… first there was demon blood,” he began. “Crossroad deals. Hell, the cage, and purgatory. Demon possession. So many monsters. So many kills. So many deaths. And a little weather tries to stop us?” He nudged the album with the toe of his sneaker. “This time we weren’t even hurt. And we know just how we want everything. It’ll be a breeze to put it all back together, won’t it, Dean?”

Dean took a deep breath and found it easier than he thought it would be to smile. “Yeah it will. I’ll call the insurance company… right after getting Tiffany out of the car. She must be going crazy having been cooped up since we left.”

“Keep her on leash. She could hurt her paws on—”

“Yeah, I know, Sam.”

As Dean clipped the leash onto the sheepdog’s big collar, he heard more shifting behind him. He glanced back over his shoulder to see Sam picking the photo album back up again and brushing it off.

This was so, so good! I love all the photos and memories of normal things Sam had been keeping while they settled in. It seems very much like something he'd do. And I'm glad it didn't break them to lose everything. They've been through much worse, but sometimes it's the little things on top of the big things that finally crack you.
Great job!

Thank you! Sorry for the occasional errors. I didn't even read it over once before posting. Oops.

I liked Dean being so sure this would be the thing that breaks them, so close to losing it himself. But all it took was hearing Sam laugh and be so sure they could rebuild in order to bring him back down. They're tough, our boys. If they haven't broken by now, they're not going to let themselves break over this ;-)

Thanks so much for such kind words!

How do you do this? This is so wonderfully written that I'm not even sure what I can say about it, because whatever I say will not do it justice.

Aw, thanks! There are a couple errors I'm going to have to correct. And I'm going to have to add another couple sentences to the end:

Dean wrapped the leash a few times around his hand, glad to have done so because the second the dog was out of the car, she took off, straining at the end of her leash to get to Sam. Sam, meanwhile, pulled out his digital camera and began documenting this latest stage in their house's life.

Awww... Sammy. :D

(That's another thing on my ever-increasing to do list: start making photo albums.)

Cowboyguy's "Starting Over" Supernatural meme! (prompts post)

FILL: The Pieces (1/2)

FILL: The Pieces (2/2)

Re: FILL: The Pieces (2/2)

Re: FILL: The Pieces (2/2)

Re: FILL: The Pieces (2/2)

Re: FILL: The Pieces (2/2)

Re: FILL: The Pieces (2/2)