FIC: Of Bastard Saints, 19
May. 26th, 2006 06:21 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
nilchanceTitle: Of Bastard Saints
Authors:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
nilchance and beanside
Rating: Adult
Disclaimer: We make no claim of ownership on the Brothers and Daddy Winchester. No infringement is intended, no money is made.
Author Notes: Set after the episode "Devil's Trap."
WARNINGS: Character maiming, violence, more angst than you can shake a stick at, WIP.
"Dad, when are you planning on that family talk thing?"
John sighed, looking at the signs. "I guess it's a good time as any."
Yeah, that was reassuring. Sam laid his head against the window, considering the fine lines gathering around his father's eyes, the tension around his mouth. "Okay," he said. "I know Dean's bound a greater demon, and I know it's bad. But you don't get this freaked out. Ever. What's going on? And don't give me the need to know bullshit."
John stared through the windshield, his eyes distant. Then he exhaled slowly through his teeth. "Jim told me once that hell was like the worst military hierarchy clusterfuck you can imagine. The demon we're dealing with is up there. Not Satan up there, but up there enough that there are a lot of small fry gunning for its position. If Dean dies without releasing the demon, he'll be dragged into that hourglass with it and stuck there for the rest of eternity. Takes out two birds with one stone for hell. So not only is he being worked over by that demon, but he's enemy number one right now for all of those bastards. There are a lot of them, one of him, no backup. Dean doesn't know we're coming."
Sam was kind of sorry he asked. Against his better judgment, he said, "Okay. Now what about the family stuff?"
John was quiet for a long moment, then took a deep breath. "I haven't even told Dean most of this. You know how some families, usually the kind of weird ones, have stories? Of family members who had prophetic dreams, or could stop watches, or who predicted the day of their death."
"Don't most of them?" Sam asked.
"You'd be surprised," John said. "Anyhow, sometimes, when two of those families mix, you get children with... gifts."
"Like me," Sam said flatly.
"Except that normally, the first child gets the gift. Dean didn't, or so we thought. Which made you doubly interesting to the demon." John looked back at the road and cursed, realizing that he was about to sideswipe a truck. Twisting the wheel sharply, he avoided the truck. "Fuck. I'm pulling over. I don't want to, but I can't do this while I drive."
Sam's eyes widened. "But, Dean-"
"I'll talk fast, Sam." John quickly pulled the van off at a city park. "I wanted to stretch my legs- leg." He hurriedly limped over to one of a line of chessboards set up, and lowered himself onto the stool. "Okay. Where was I?"
"Gifts."
"Oh yeah. So, Dean got jack-all. Except he didn't. Dean's got a fair amount of latent power, that he kind of uses as he needs." John's lip curved into a smirk. "Mostly, he seems to use it to get laid, to be honest. Or to get out of trouble. Or to make that phenomenally lucky shot. Or to heal faster than he really ought to be able to."
"I kinda noticed that one," Sam muttered. "After the daevas, I was still scabby and he's got girls fawning all over his new scars."
John smiled. "I doubt you were hurting for girls to coo over your scabs, Sammy."
Sam ducked his head, slumping onto the other stool. "Did we have a weird family?"
"Yeah. Your mom got prophetic dreams. Not like perfect movie reels of what would happen, but a grain of truth. The kind of thing I didn't put much stock in until after... after." John rubbed his eyes. "And I had this ability to fix anything you put in front of me. Basically latent. But apparently, physical trauma can force latent abilities into the forefront." John reached into his pocket, pulling out a quarter.
"Meaning?" Sam asked.
John flipped the quarter up into the air. It flew up, then started to fall down. At about eye level, it simply stopped. Just for a few heartbeats. Then it dropped. John pocketed it again. "That's about the extent of it, but it's more than I could do before."
Sam shook his head. A few years ago, that'd have been mind-blowing. His father, who was very much a cold beer and loaded shotgun kind of guy doing no-handed coin tricks still made Sam's brain hurt, but these days it was basically a Tuesday in the Winchester world. "So you think Dean has some ability?"
"I think that's the only way he could have bound that demon. Now that it is bound, I can tell you that it was Belial-"
"Why can you only tell me that now?"
"Names are power. Didn't want to call it down on us when we were sleeping, which is about how the bastard operates. Anyway. Belial's a lieutenant of hell, only slightly below Satan's five Princes. There's no way anyone should be able to bind a third tier demon. It doesn't happen. Even Crowley... maybe he managed a fifth level demon. Fourth, if you really believe his press."
"Or it was the LSD."
"Yeah." John grinned. "Probably that."
"So Dean lucked out. Or used his latent... whatever. Dean-ness." Sam shrugged tiredly. "Weird, and he'll gloat for years, but I'm not seeing how this is a stop the car conversation."
"There's more." John rubbed absently at the place where the prosthetic met his leg, his expression growing serious. When he spoke, it was clipped. "There was a girl back in the day. A hunter. One of the best I'd met, and that's with Elkins and Bobby. Amanda Sinclair. Her mother trained her early after her father and brother were torn apart by shadow demons. Starting when Sinclair was about 9. Sound familiar?"
Sam nodded, glancing sidelong as a jogger paused a bit too long beside them. She winked at John and kept jogging, looking back over her shoulder. Sam took his hand off his gun. "Yeah."
"Her mother died when she was twenty."
"Demons?"
"Carjacking. We tried to keep track of Sinclair, Bobby and me. No other family. She seemed solid enough, and I had other things to keep track of. I let it go. Things were quiet for a while. We'd hunt together once or twice a year. Think your brother had a crush on her. He was about 14, 15. Then she changed. Started acting-" John started as his cell phone rang, then grabbed for it. "Dean?"
Sam leaned close and heard Bobby say, "Sorry."
John grunted, then levered himself back to his feet. Jerking his head at the van, he waited until Sam nodded and started walking towards it. "If this isn't news, I'm hanging up."
"If you're sweet on me, John-"
John snorted.
"Yeah, thought so." Bobby said, "That all-points I put out for people to call if they saw Dean got an answer, and your boy just bought you some time. He met up with Katya's group. Charmed the pants off them, got them to buy that it'd been a problem with a concussion and that he was okay now. Also killed a hydra."
"A what now?" John paused mid-step. "They're supposed to be extinct."
"Like vampires?" Sam muttered, and grinned as John swatted him.
"Not so much. Things are going bugfuck out there. West coast's the center, but that's moving down with your boy. And they aren't peachy anywhere, what with a gate of hell opening in Lawrence-"
"Gate of hell? You didn't fucking call me?" John barked.
Sam offered a sheepish wave at the next jogger who paused to stare at them.
"I just got the word myself, John. The bad guys are throwing everything they've got. Folks are sighting the Horde again, for God's sake. Haven't seen them since-"
Just before Hiroshima. Hell's warrior caste. Brutal, unstoppable, sadistic. Destructive. Too goddamn smart. Hell only ever sent out one. It only ever had to send out one. John stopped mid-step, grimacing. "Tell me you're fucking with me. Where?"
"Where else, John? Goddamn Lawrence. Cover your backs. They want Dean, but a lot of these demons are just looking for a damn meal. And your other boy, or you, are big fucking targets."
"Okay," John said distractedly, stopping by the van to rummage for his keys. "Anything else?"
There was silence on the other end of the line. Then Bobby sighed. All teasing gone, he murmured, "John, he bought you time. But you know how it's gonna look when people realize what he's been up to. It looks like fucking Sin-"
"He's. Not. Sinclair." John growled. "You understand me? It won't come to that. He's got me, and he's got Sammy, and we won't let it come to that."
"But if it does." Bobby's voice was iron. "You couldn't pull the trigger on Amanda. You gonna pull the trigger on-"
John flipped his cell closed and put it back into his pocket. He looked at Sam. "You ready to go?"
His answer was something whipping past his head. John followed it with his eyes, watching as the trashcan slammed into the twisted thing hunching on the hood of the van. Damn. He was off his game. Shooting a glance at Sam, John drew his gun and moved around the van to catch up with the demon. There was the trashcan, but no demon.
"Dad!"
John dropped as Sam yelled, rolling out of the way as the demon's enormous fist slammed down where his head would have been. It gave him a second to study it, trying to place what they needed to do to kill it.
It was hideous. Barely humanoid, with elongated arms that seemed to be little more than bony sinew. Three milky eyes stared out at them above a gaping maw with jagged teeth.
"Fuck, ugly," John muttered. "Aim for the eyes, Sam."
"You think?" Sam yelled back, reaching for his gun. "Shield your eyes, I've got the magnesium clip."
"Sam-" Before John could finish, a brilliant white flash streaked across the park, imbedding itself in the creature's skin.
"Shiiiit!" John yelled, scrambling to his feet and hurrying away, to the other side of the van as fast as he could manage.
The creature went up like a three-week dead Christmas tree, a nearly ten foot tall bonfire. Then, to Sam's dismay, it turned, coming towards him. In the flames, he could see the skin cracking, twisting onto itself. "Oh, ew."
"Sam, get down."
"Huh-" A sharp, whistling noise came from the thing, and Sam hit the ground, diving behind a trash can.
The whistle ratcheted up until it was a piercing siren wail. Then, it stopped.
"Stay down!" John barked.
Before he had finished, with a thunderous noise, the creature blew, raining flesh and blood over the park. John scrambled to the back of the van, ignoring the bits of creature raining down around him. "Get ammo, now. No fire!" he added.
"Dad, it blew up. All gone. Boom," Sam added, stepping out from behind the trash can he'd used for cover.
John threw a shotgun to him, following it with a box of shells. Over Sam's shoulder, he saw that the civilians had scattered. Good. Less damage control. "Look again."
Sam turned, looking at the remains where the thing had been. The bits of flesh were wiggling. They moved, growing larger, until a dozen smaller creatures stood there. "Oh, crap."
"We call them gremlins."
"Oh, that's just great," Sam snarled. "We don't have time for this."
John shrugged. "They're not hard to kill at this size. It's just rounding them all up. You can shoot them, you can chop them. Hell, once upon a time, I wiped out about ten with a hockey stick. Even a good kick'll do it, if you aim right."
Sam stared at the gremlins starting to move, shuffling around as they found their bearings. He looked past them, at one of the heavy steel and wood picnic tables.
"Sam?" John asked.
Sam stared, feeling the spike of pain in his head intensify. Then, with a grating noise, the picnic table flew up from the ground, flipping in mid air. He brought it to a stop above the gremlins and then simply let go. He turned to his father. "Will that work?"
John nodded, eyeing Sam. Finally, he smiled. "Yeah. That'll do it."
Authors:
nilchance and beansideRating: Adult
Disclaimer: We make no claim of ownership on the Brothers and Daddy Winchester. No infringement is intended, no money is made.
Author Notes: Set after the episode "Devil's Trap."
WARNINGS: Character maiming, violence, more angst than you can shake a stick at, WIP.
"Dad, when are you planning on that family talk thing?"
John sighed, looking at the signs. "I guess it's a good time as any."
Yeah, that was reassuring. Sam laid his head against the window, considering the fine lines gathering around his father's eyes, the tension around his mouth. "Okay," he said. "I know Dean's bound a greater demon, and I know it's bad. But you don't get this freaked out. Ever. What's going on? And don't give me the need to know bullshit."
John stared through the windshield, his eyes distant. Then he exhaled slowly through his teeth. "Jim told me once that hell was like the worst military hierarchy clusterfuck you can imagine. The demon we're dealing with is up there. Not Satan up there, but up there enough that there are a lot of small fry gunning for its position. If Dean dies without releasing the demon, he'll be dragged into that hourglass with it and stuck there for the rest of eternity. Takes out two birds with one stone for hell. So not only is he being worked over by that demon, but he's enemy number one right now for all of those bastards. There are a lot of them, one of him, no backup. Dean doesn't know we're coming."
Sam was kind of sorry he asked. Against his better judgment, he said, "Okay. Now what about the family stuff?"
John was quiet for a long moment, then took a deep breath. "I haven't even told Dean most of this. You know how some families, usually the kind of weird ones, have stories? Of family members who had prophetic dreams, or could stop watches, or who predicted the day of their death."
"Don't most of them?" Sam asked.
"You'd be surprised," John said. "Anyhow, sometimes, when two of those families mix, you get children with... gifts."
"Like me," Sam said flatly.
"Except that normally, the first child gets the gift. Dean didn't, or so we thought. Which made you doubly interesting to the demon." John looked back at the road and cursed, realizing that he was about to sideswipe a truck. Twisting the wheel sharply, he avoided the truck. "Fuck. I'm pulling over. I don't want to, but I can't do this while I drive."
Sam's eyes widened. "But, Dean-"
"I'll talk fast, Sam." John quickly pulled the van off at a city park. "I wanted to stretch my legs- leg." He hurriedly limped over to one of a line of chessboards set up, and lowered himself onto the stool. "Okay. Where was I?"
"Gifts."
"Oh yeah. So, Dean got jack-all. Except he didn't. Dean's got a fair amount of latent power, that he kind of uses as he needs." John's lip curved into a smirk. "Mostly, he seems to use it to get laid, to be honest. Or to get out of trouble. Or to make that phenomenally lucky shot. Or to heal faster than he really ought to be able to."
"I kinda noticed that one," Sam muttered. "After the daevas, I was still scabby and he's got girls fawning all over his new scars."
John smiled. "I doubt you were hurting for girls to coo over your scabs, Sammy."
Sam ducked his head, slumping onto the other stool. "Did we have a weird family?"
"Yeah. Your mom got prophetic dreams. Not like perfect movie reels of what would happen, but a grain of truth. The kind of thing I didn't put much stock in until after... after." John rubbed his eyes. "And I had this ability to fix anything you put in front of me. Basically latent. But apparently, physical trauma can force latent abilities into the forefront." John reached into his pocket, pulling out a quarter.
"Meaning?" Sam asked.
John flipped the quarter up into the air. It flew up, then started to fall down. At about eye level, it simply stopped. Just for a few heartbeats. Then it dropped. John pocketed it again. "That's about the extent of it, but it's more than I could do before."
Sam shook his head. A few years ago, that'd have been mind-blowing. His father, who was very much a cold beer and loaded shotgun kind of guy doing no-handed coin tricks still made Sam's brain hurt, but these days it was basically a Tuesday in the Winchester world. "So you think Dean has some ability?"
"I think that's the only way he could have bound that demon. Now that it is bound, I can tell you that it was Belial-"
"Why can you only tell me that now?"
"Names are power. Didn't want to call it down on us when we were sleeping, which is about how the bastard operates. Anyway. Belial's a lieutenant of hell, only slightly below Satan's five Princes. There's no way anyone should be able to bind a third tier demon. It doesn't happen. Even Crowley... maybe he managed a fifth level demon. Fourth, if you really believe his press."
"Or it was the LSD."
"Yeah." John grinned. "Probably that."
"So Dean lucked out. Or used his latent... whatever. Dean-ness." Sam shrugged tiredly. "Weird, and he'll gloat for years, but I'm not seeing how this is a stop the car conversation."
"There's more." John rubbed absently at the place where the prosthetic met his leg, his expression growing serious. When he spoke, it was clipped. "There was a girl back in the day. A hunter. One of the best I'd met, and that's with Elkins and Bobby. Amanda Sinclair. Her mother trained her early after her father and brother were torn apart by shadow demons. Starting when Sinclair was about 9. Sound familiar?"
Sam nodded, glancing sidelong as a jogger paused a bit too long beside them. She winked at John and kept jogging, looking back over her shoulder. Sam took his hand off his gun. "Yeah."
"Her mother died when she was twenty."
"Demons?"
"Carjacking. We tried to keep track of Sinclair, Bobby and me. No other family. She seemed solid enough, and I had other things to keep track of. I let it go. Things were quiet for a while. We'd hunt together once or twice a year. Think your brother had a crush on her. He was about 14, 15. Then she changed. Started acting-" John started as his cell phone rang, then grabbed for it. "Dean?"
Sam leaned close and heard Bobby say, "Sorry."
John grunted, then levered himself back to his feet. Jerking his head at the van, he waited until Sam nodded and started walking towards it. "If this isn't news, I'm hanging up."
"If you're sweet on me, John-"
John snorted.
"Yeah, thought so." Bobby said, "That all-points I put out for people to call if they saw Dean got an answer, and your boy just bought you some time. He met up with Katya's group. Charmed the pants off them, got them to buy that it'd been a problem with a concussion and that he was okay now. Also killed a hydra."
"A what now?" John paused mid-step. "They're supposed to be extinct."
"Like vampires?" Sam muttered, and grinned as John swatted him.
"Not so much. Things are going bugfuck out there. West coast's the center, but that's moving down with your boy. And they aren't peachy anywhere, what with a gate of hell opening in Lawrence-"
"Gate of hell? You didn't fucking call me?" John barked.
Sam offered a sheepish wave at the next jogger who paused to stare at them.
"I just got the word myself, John. The bad guys are throwing everything they've got. Folks are sighting the Horde again, for God's sake. Haven't seen them since-"
Just before Hiroshima. Hell's warrior caste. Brutal, unstoppable, sadistic. Destructive. Too goddamn smart. Hell only ever sent out one. It only ever had to send out one. John stopped mid-step, grimacing. "Tell me you're fucking with me. Where?"
"Where else, John? Goddamn Lawrence. Cover your backs. They want Dean, but a lot of these demons are just looking for a damn meal. And your other boy, or you, are big fucking targets."
"Okay," John said distractedly, stopping by the van to rummage for his keys. "Anything else?"
There was silence on the other end of the line. Then Bobby sighed. All teasing gone, he murmured, "John, he bought you time. But you know how it's gonna look when people realize what he's been up to. It looks like fucking Sin-"
"He's. Not. Sinclair." John growled. "You understand me? It won't come to that. He's got me, and he's got Sammy, and we won't let it come to that."
"But if it does." Bobby's voice was iron. "You couldn't pull the trigger on Amanda. You gonna pull the trigger on-"
John flipped his cell closed and put it back into his pocket. He looked at Sam. "You ready to go?"
His answer was something whipping past his head. John followed it with his eyes, watching as the trashcan slammed into the twisted thing hunching on the hood of the van. Damn. He was off his game. Shooting a glance at Sam, John drew his gun and moved around the van to catch up with the demon. There was the trashcan, but no demon.
"Dad!"
John dropped as Sam yelled, rolling out of the way as the demon's enormous fist slammed down where his head would have been. It gave him a second to study it, trying to place what they needed to do to kill it.
It was hideous. Barely humanoid, with elongated arms that seemed to be little more than bony sinew. Three milky eyes stared out at them above a gaping maw with jagged teeth.
"Fuck, ugly," John muttered. "Aim for the eyes, Sam."
"You think?" Sam yelled back, reaching for his gun. "Shield your eyes, I've got the magnesium clip."
"Sam-" Before John could finish, a brilliant white flash streaked across the park, imbedding itself in the creature's skin.
"Shiiiit!" John yelled, scrambling to his feet and hurrying away, to the other side of the van as fast as he could manage.
The creature went up like a three-week dead Christmas tree, a nearly ten foot tall bonfire. Then, to Sam's dismay, it turned, coming towards him. In the flames, he could see the skin cracking, twisting onto itself. "Oh, ew."
"Sam, get down."
"Huh-" A sharp, whistling noise came from the thing, and Sam hit the ground, diving behind a trash can.
The whistle ratcheted up until it was a piercing siren wail. Then, it stopped.
"Stay down!" John barked.
Before he had finished, with a thunderous noise, the creature blew, raining flesh and blood over the park. John scrambled to the back of the van, ignoring the bits of creature raining down around him. "Get ammo, now. No fire!" he added.
"Dad, it blew up. All gone. Boom," Sam added, stepping out from behind the trash can he'd used for cover.
John threw a shotgun to him, following it with a box of shells. Over Sam's shoulder, he saw that the civilians had scattered. Good. Less damage control. "Look again."
Sam turned, looking at the remains where the thing had been. The bits of flesh were wiggling. They moved, growing larger, until a dozen smaller creatures stood there. "Oh, crap."
"We call them gremlins."
"Oh, that's just great," Sam snarled. "We don't have time for this."
John shrugged. "They're not hard to kill at this size. It's just rounding them all up. You can shoot them, you can chop them. Hell, once upon a time, I wiped out about ten with a hockey stick. Even a good kick'll do it, if you aim right."
Sam stared at the gremlins starting to move, shuffling around as they found their bearings. He looked past them, at one of the heavy steel and wood picnic tables.
"Sam?" John asked.
Sam stared, feeling the spike of pain in his head intensify. Then, with a grating noise, the picnic table flew up from the ground, flipping in mid air. He brought it to a stop above the gremlins and then simply let go. He turned to his father. "Will that work?"
John nodded, eyeing Sam. Finally, he smiled. "Yeah. That'll do it."
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2006-05-26 11:03 pm (UTC)I also like the way you gave all of the Winchester's abilities, it tends to bug when just one person in a family gets abilities, because a lot of times the other people have them they just don't know about them or admit to them.
no subject
Date: 2006-05-28 02:53 am (UTC)We figured that the powers thing isn't so much superpowers as the small, quirky kind of aptitudes that pretty much everyone has. Like balancing a spoon on your nose.
Thank you! I'm glad you like it.
no subject
Date: 2006-05-26 11:04 pm (UTC)And what happened to Amanda?
no subject
Date: 2006-05-28 02:55 am (UTC)Amanda is one of many skeletons in the Winchester closet. ;)
Thank you! I'm glad you're liking it.
no subject
Date: 2006-05-26 11:52 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-05-28 02:55 am (UTC)(Mmmm... icon.)
no subject
Date: 2006-05-27 01:47 am (UTC)I hope you don't mind if I friend you, I really don't want to miss the remainder of this, or anything else you write for that matter.
no subject
Date: 2006-05-27 01:53 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-05-28 02:57 am (UTC)Mmm... Karl Urban. Sadly, that's totally who I picture now as Sven the Viking.
no subject
Date: 2006-05-27 03:06 am (UTC)Great job, can't wait to see more!
no subject
Date: 2006-05-28 02:59 am (UTC)Thank you so much.
no subject
Date: 2006-05-27 03:51 am (UTC)"Like vampires?" Sam muttered, and grinned as John swatted him.
I love John so much. And I ave read about Amanda before! I know I have! I jsut don't remember what chapter it was! Curses.
no subject
Date: 2006-05-28 03:00 am (UTC)Thanks!
no subject
Date: 2006-05-27 06:30 am (UTC)Gremlins!
You think Gizmo is around there somewhere?
(In case you couldn't tell, I'm loving this story. Just finally got all caught up after being in Vegas for a week. Loving it!)
no subject
Date: 2006-05-28 03:01 am (UTC)Thanks! I hope you had fun in Vegas.
no subject
Date: 2006-05-27 06:49 am (UTC)*hee* The matter-of-fact moments like this really seems to be pinging for me with this story. I think it's the contrast with the high (quality) level of action and monsters/demons.
Amanda Sinclair ... possessed? or just seduced by the Dark Side of the Force? And John couldn't shoot/kill her when the opportunity presented? Or maybe didn't believe she needed killing, thought she could still be reached? Like none of the Winchesters could kill each other in that cabin "before". And the hunter community is worried that John won't follow through again? /guessing game
Yay Sammy! Got that TK working at just the right moment.
And family history/backstory. I keep waiting to find out if the show writers know where they're going with the demon's plans, if the demons/mothers/babies arc has actually been worked out logically, or if it's being spun out haphazardly. (What can I say, I was terribly horribly SCARED by The X-Files back in the day.)
As always, much enjoyed and eagerly awaiting the next (Dean POV ?!) section. Whee!
no subject
Date: 2006-05-28 03:05 am (UTC)Amanda was a special case, but the fall-out was bad enough to make the hunting community pretty wary about a repeat performance. And John'll get to the rest of that story in the next chapter. ;)
I've heard that Kripke has a 5 year plan for the series. I'm not sure if it'll be a good 5 year plan, but he has one. (Am bitter over Alias. And yeah, X-Files, now that you mention it. WTFCigaretteSmokingMan/DaddyBBQ?)
Thanks!
no subject
Date: 2006-05-27 07:18 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-05-28 03:07 am (UTC)Glad you're enjoying. Thanks!
no subject
Date: 2006-05-27 09:00 am (UTC)Someone recommended this, a long time ago. And I just now read it all in one shot. I was just gonna read a chapter or two, see what it was like, then save the rest for my day off. Didn't happen. It's awesome. And I'm addicted to it. I think all the characterization is just spot-on. I can see and hear the voices clear as day in my head. It's truly amazing.
no subject
Date: 2006-05-28 03:08 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-05-27 05:12 pm (UTC)I love how John and Sam are working together now. Love the monster-killing and gremlin-squashing sequences.
And the reason I'm feeling/enjoying these characters so much is because y'all are so damn good at characterization, dialogue and description. Big thanks and cannot WAIT to read what happens next.
DC
no subject
Date: 2006-05-28 03:08 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-05-28 12:43 am (UTC)And I don't know why, but I love this line Sam offered a sheepish wave at the next jogger who paused to stare at them. I can totally imagine Sam doing that.
no subject
Date: 2006-05-28 03:10 am (UTC)Thanks!
no subject
Date: 2006-05-28 07:22 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-09-11 11:55 pm (UTC)*howls at the gremlins* Heh. I'm reading this at work and had to keep from laughing out loud.
Great story so far!
no subject
Date: 2008-12-07 12:24 am (UTC)Wheeeeeee!
*jitters*