Title: Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death
Genre: Gen, angst
Length: About 3100 words
Rating: Light R or hard PG
Characters: Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester
Spoilers: Mentions events that happened at the end of S12
Warnings: Language and a little bit of violent imagery
Author's Notes: My first attempt at Summergen! When I saw that my recipient was crowroad3, I was both overjoyed (because I'm such a huge fan) and horrified (because what could I write that would be worthy?) Thank you, my friend, for the fabulous prompts, and for being such an inspiration in general. Thanks also to the spn_summergen mods for running this challenge, which I know takes much time and dedication and blood and sweat and tears, and to every other participant, for providing so much awesome gen fic and Art that I still haven't quite worked my way completely through, and thanks also to my darling speedy beta, manzanita_crow.
Synopsis: Something bad happens when you break a blood oath with a reaper. Sam and Dean have to fix it.


~~~

They leave the Impala at the Timber Lake Trailhead. Dean slams the trunk closed, shoulders his pack, and raises his eyebrows at Sam, as if to ask you sure about this? Sam shrugs. He's as sure as he'll ever be. It's not like there's anyone they can ask. Not like he has one of the most powerful witches in existence on speed dial any more. Not like there's any real way of knowing if this is going to work, if the weeks of sweat and blood prepping for this are actually going to pay off.

He unfolds the map and lays it across the trunk. "If we head straight east, we'll pick up Route 34 at Farview Curve, and we'll miss all this." Sam runs a finger along the switchback twists and hairpin turns of a section of Route 34. "Or we can go northeast, between these two creeks. It will take a little longer, since we'll have to backtrack some once we get to the road, but we won't have to cross a creek without a bridge."

Dean squints up at the cold morning sky, down at the frozen ground. Scuffs at the hard crust of snow with his boot. "Creek's probably frozen, don't you think?"

"Yeah. Okay. East it is." Sam folds the map and keeps his face neutral. Doesn't want to reveal how relieved he is that Dean actually... spoke. Contributed. Acted like he gives a shit, about this job or literally anything else. He threads his arms through the straps of his own pack, checks his compass, and starts down the slope away from the trailhead.

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And now, let me put in a plug for the story that was written for my own prompt. After S10 ended with Dean killing Death, I got a plot bunny where Dean actually killed Sam, and Death put him away in the promised mysterious safe place, and then stuff happened. But I didn't know what to do with it, so I put it away and eventually submitted it as a Summergen prompt. tifaching ran with it and took it to some unexpected places and I don't want to give away any details, because I want you to experience the lovely way it unfolds. But I do want you to read it, because it's awesome! Please check out Message in a Bottle and show some love!

Whether you're a brother or whether you're a mother
Genre: Gen, h/c, angst
Length: About 1600 words
Characters: Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester
Spoilers: None
Synopsis: A kind of remix of With Gravy, a season 2 fic by the amazing kalliel, which you need to read first. Basically, I read her story and knew I had to hear Sam's side. (It's not as good as Dean's side, because seriously, she's amazing.)



~~~



Sam switches off with Mariana. Estimates she can go five minutes, tops, before slowing down to the point of ineffectiveness, to the point where he takes over again.

It's just numbers; 100 to 120 beats per minute. "Stayin' Alive" by the Bee Gees sets the perfect rhythm. It's all right, it's okay; I'll live to see another day.

She stops to give rescue breaths, and Sam wants to tell her not to, that it will tire her out faster, that it's actually more effective to do hands-only CPR. But he's not going to tell her how to keep her husband alive. He gets up to tap her shoulder, to take over, to get back into his rhythm. Life going nowhere, somebody help me, somebody help me yeah.
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Written for the Celebrating Sam event on ohsam. The prompt was "field surgery." This was supposed to be from Sam’s POV, but Dean kept taking over (as he so often does when I try to write Sam), so you get both sides.

Pairings: None (gen)
Warnings: Language, whumpage
Also available on AO3

~~~~~~~~~

Side A

Like many of the stupid things Sam does, it happens too quickly for Dean to stop it. Once minute he's on his ass in the damp slippery grass, fallen like a goddamn amateur, watching the spinthaak advance and hoping he can get off a shot before it rips his head off. The next minute Sam's charging between him and the spinthaak, close enough (too close too close too goddamn close) to shoot it right between the eyes. Dean sees its tail twitch forward before it goes down and he rolls out of the way, because he knows what's at the end of a spinthaak's tail. He hopes to god that Sam got out of the way in time. But a strangled cry of pain puts his heart in his throat.

Sam's on his knees, pawing at his chest, and in a second Dean's in front of him. He tries to pull his brother's trembling hands away to check for blood, because a spinthaak has pretty big fucking claws, too. "Sam. Sam! Did it get you?"

"I'm okay. Kill it." Sam bats his hands away and waves toward the spinthaak's corpse. He clutches his chest again and sinks to the ground with a groan.

"It's dead," Dean says. "You got it. You got too close, you moron! Where did it get you? Did it sting you?"

Of course it did, of course it did, because nothing but a spinthaak's sting would put him in this much pain. Sam's curled up on the ground, writhing, whimpering, and Dean doesn't want to think about what it takes to make his brother fucking whimper.

(But he already knows. He's had John Winchester's voice murmuring in the back of his head all morning. Spinthaak venom. Just a tiny bit in each quill, but it's one of the most painful things a human being can ever experience. Knew a fella got stung in the finger, said he'd have shot his own arm off if his friend hadn't been there to stop him. But the pain isn't what takes you out. The venom is a paralytic. The quill burrows its way to your core if you can't yank it out fast enough, gets to your heart or your diaphragm and boom, you're gone. No antivenin, no CPR. Your only hope is to get that quill out before it's out of reach. And you'll be in too much pain to get it out yourself. That's why you never hunt a spinthaak alone.)

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I tried not to do this. I'm sorry.


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This is wildly AU but it got stuck in my head and wouldn't go away. Spoilery for 12.03.

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Repost because it's not showing up in friends feeds for some reason...

When its time for leaving

Length: About 4000 words
Rating: PG for language and mild violence
Warnings: If you can handle the show, you can handle this
Characters: Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester, a tiny bit of John Winchester
Spoilers: Eh. Maybe a teeny one if you haven't watched all of season 2. Surely you've watched all of season 2 by now.

Synopsis: A pre-series fic that takes place right after Sam graduates from high school. It's hot, Sam's being weird, Dean's annoyed, and a little bit of Winchester family history is about to be made.

...

It's only the end of May, but south Texas is already hot as balls. The Gulf's not close enough to cool them off, but it's close enough to make the air humid and sticky and thick, like walking through warm Jello. Which is why Dean's surprised when Sam announces he's going to sit in the car instead of going into the bar with them. John stiffens, gives Dean the take care of this look, and trudges away from the car, and thanks, Dad. Because Dean can think of nothing he'd rather do than deal with Sam's shit right now, out here in this fucking swamp. He leans in the open window and peers into the back seat. Sam is slumped around a book, every single bit of body language radiating annoyance. And annoying.

"Come on, Sam. It's a billion degrees out here."

"I'm fine."




Read on my LJ or on AO3.

Sam is on his knees, hands bound behind his back, coughing up his own blood, knowing the face of the MoL's enforcer is the last thing he'll ever see, vision going dark around the edges, when he sees Dean run into the room, face frozen in horror, and somehow Mom is with him, somehow Mom and Dean are together, somehow his last desperate hope actually came true and Billie relented and let his brother into Heaven with their mother, and maybe they're here to meet Sam as he leaves this world, maybe Sam will be allowed to join them and maybe he won't, but it doesn't matter, this is enough, Dean made it to Heaven and Sam got to see him one last time and this is enough, so he struggles to his feet and it hurts, oh god it hurts, but he will not meet death on his knees, not this time, and he smiles before he spits a mouthful of blood at the bastard who twisted the blade into his gut, because this is a good day to die.

Written for the 2016 spn_j2_bigbang
Characters: Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester
Length: About 21K words
Rating: R for language and show-level violence

A season 2 casefic that takes place immediately after "Playthings." Still reeling from John's revelation that Dean might have to kill his brother, the Winchesters find themselves in Nashville. They're investigating a case in which people are being brutally murdered by their loved ones, which cuts just a little too close to home, considering that Sam is trying to get Dean to accept that he might have to kill his own loved one.

My first casefic! \o/ Huge shoutout to my lovely artist, stargazingchola. Please visit her art post and show her some love (note that the art is spoilery, so please read the fic before you visit her art post.)

Many, many thanks to my wonderful betas, celtic_forest and gingersnap1224.

Also available on AO3

The title and chapter titles are from the One Republic song Stop and Stare.

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Sam's conversation with Chuck. Because it's criminal that we didn't get this in 11.22. (Banged out in an hour or so, and it shows, but I had to get it off my chest.)

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