Not All Who Wander Are Lost

Which Supernatural character am I? Why, I'm glad you asked!

Sun, 07 Jan 2007 19:04:34 GMT

I was actually pleasantly surprised with this...the funny thing is, I really answered honestly to all of the questions!

Which Supernatural character are you?

You're Dean! You're like those M&Ms you love so much -- hard candy shell on the outside, soft chocolate center on the inside. You're a huge flirt, and quite proud of it, even though you'd rather chew off your own arm than talk about your real feelings. You kick ass and you're smart, but without any special powers or a silly college education -- all your kickass is purely your own, baby.
Take this quiz!

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Supernatural Christmas Fic

Wed, 03 Jan 2007 01:16:49 GMT

So, the story behind the story, first and foremost. I had this written before Christmas. I swear I did, honestly. The trouble? My parents computer was unable to get online. Now that I finally have access again I'm posting it, so I'm sorry it's so late!

Title: Home For The Holidays
Fandom: Supernatural
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: Sadly, not mine. I'm hoping to get full ownership Supernatural for Christmas, though. Or at least full ownership of Dean.
Summary: Sam and Dean have limited space and live in each others pockets. Where do they hide their Christmas gifts for each other?

Dean Winchester had been a hunter for as long as he could remember. It was a profession not only based on knowledge of all supernatural beings, but on speed, on the ability to think on your feet, and on attention to detail. Dean prided himself on noticing little things that other people, whether they were bystanders, other hunters, or his own family, might have missed. He'd connected the blood pattern made by the daevas in Chicago. He'd identified the scratch marks on Daniel Elkins floor for what they really were and found the P.O. box. Dean Winchester did not tend to overlook things.

He reminded himself of that as he stood in the middle of his latest investigation site. He had torn the room apart and put it back together, and still he had found nothing. Not the tiniest of hints. But Dean Winchester was not a man easily deterred from something he had set his mind to, and he was dead set on this mission. He would prevail, and he would succeed. He would figure out where Sam was hiding his Christmas present.

It had all been a truly brilliant plan. He had been subtle, something that was not necessarily easy for him, but he had done it, for the good of the cause. He hadn't mentioned anything about presents for weeks, not once during their entire hunt. Not even when Sam suggested they stay where they were for the holidays. He had waited, biding his time. And now, with less than three days until Christmas, he knew the time to strike was right. He had been watching the Subject, more commonly referred to as Sam, and gathering information on him for much longer than he had with any other subject he'd ever dealt with before. Try 23 years longer. He knew Sam well; he was the type to always be prepared, to always be on top of things. It was completely uncharateristic of Sam to wait until the last minute to purchase a Christmas gift. So, logically speaking, now was a perfect time to send Sam out for coffee and find said gift.

The whole thing was ridiculous, really. The room was only so big, and Sam only had so much stuff. And he hadn't taken anything with him, a trick Dean often used to prevent Sam from finding his present. So it must be in the room. But where? Dean was operating under a time frame here. An ordinary man might crack under the pressure, but Dean Winchester was no ordinary man. He was calm. He was collected. He was fast. He was the Bond of Christmas.

He was also begining to question his mental health, but never mind all that. There would be plenty of time to worry about that later. After Christmas.

Christmas! That gave Dean an idea. It was possible that Sam had gotten him something very small, and hid tied it to the trunk of the Christmas tree they had in their room. All the lights and decorations would do all the hiding for him, and Sam would think that by now Dean had forgotten that old trick. After all, the last time Sam pulled something like that they were kids. But Dean didn't forget things like that, he had a mind like a steel trap. He was so deeply immersed in his thoughts-- and in the tree--that Dean didn't hear the door open. It was a rookie mistake, one that was clearly beneath the Bond of Christmas.

"Dean." Sam didn't sound angry, which was a good thing. He also didn't sound confused, which was, sadly, not a surprising thing. Dean considered his options. Running away occurred to him, but Winchesters do not run at the first sign of trouble. And neither does Bond. Dean decided that the best plan of action was to act casual.

"Why, Sammy, didn't expect you back so soon." Totally cool, completely sauve.

"I can see that." Sam was barely containging his laughter.

"And how was getting the coffee?" No cracks in the exterior, none whatsoever. Dean was a rock. Completely steasfast.

"Fine. Do you want this coffee you were oh-so-desperately jonesing for twenty minutes ago?"

"Jonesing? I was not jonesing. I was not desperate."

"You said you needed coffee or you were going to die, Dean. You referenced your need for the coffee being as strong as an addicts need for heroin. You actually used the words, 'I need my fix.' You were about a step away from death throes."

Well. It wasn't the first time Dean had had to resort to theatrics in order to further his investigation, and it certainly wouldn't be the last. Still, it was necessary to keep up the facade if he was to eventually locate the target. Also, Dean kind of did feel like he would pass out if he didn't get any caffiene in his system soon.

Dean cleared his throat. "I don't know if I'd go that far, but thank you, yes, I would like my coffee now." Right back on track.

"Um, Dean?"

"Yes Sam?"

"Are you going to get out of the tree to get your coffee, or am I going to have to find a way to get it in there with you?"

Oops. "Tree? Oh! Tree! Dammit!" Dean stepped back into the middle of the room, brushing pine needles off as he went. "I was just checking the lights."

"Oookay, Dean."

***

Sam had outwitted the Bond of Christmas.

It wasn't an easy task, but he knew that he had managed. He also knew, of course, that Dean would kill him if he ever found out that he knew that was what Dean referred to himself as. But really, after catching him scouring the room over the years on multiple occassions, humming the Mission: Impossible theme, it had become clear.

He also didn't really have the heart to correct Dean on his movie spies.

However, Sam had bigger problems than his brothers movie mix ups. It was Christmas Eve, and try as he might, Sam was at a loss. He was completely befuddled. He had no idea where Dean had hidden his gift.

Sure, Dean might have delusions of granduer, or at least of spy capabilities, but Sam had gone to Stanford, for Gods sakes. So why couldn't he find the present?

It was immensely frustrating.

Sam's method was more subtle than Dean's; he didn't tear the room to pieces or climb into any plants, but even his technique was failing. So, finally, when Dean stepped into the shower around midnight, Sam took the opportunity and began rifling through his brothers bag.

Really, Dean had brought this on himself.

He had just finished with the first bag and was moving on to the second when the bathroom door burst open.

"Ah-HA!"

"Dean! Hey, man, I was just wondering if you had any extra socks? It's pretty freezing in here."

"Oh, you'd like me to think that, wouldn't you? But you can't fool me, dude. You're looking for your present. Well," Dean smirked, "You won't find it. I'm too good."

"Whatever, Dean." Sam said, fiegning disinterest.

Dean cast Sam a superior look and stomped back into the bathroom. Sam breathed a sigh of relief. It had been a close call, but he did have a point. It was freezing in the room.

Sam colapsed into bed and was half asleep by the time Dean came shuffling back out. There was a faint rustling before something small and soft hit Sam in the face. Sam blinked awake and pulled the rolled up socks off his face, glancing over at his older brother.

"Wouldn't want you to freeze," Dean grumbled, flopping down into bed. "Girl." He added.

***

"Merry Christmas!"

Sam had no idea Dean had it in him to be so loud at such an early hour. Without any coffee, even. It was actually a little unnerving.

"What time is it?" He opened one eye and peered blearily at his ridiculous brother who was, in all honesty, wearing a Santa hat.

"Present time, bitch!" Dean leaped onto the bed, sending Sam about a foot into the air. He landed and sat up. Resistance was useless, and besides, it was Christmas.

"Okay. Idiot. Hold on." Sam stumbled out of bed and across the room, where he began rooting through Dean's bag again.

"Dude, no. You can have your present, I've already got it out." Dean waved a shiny wrapped package to prove his point. "It wasn't hidden in the bag, anyway."

"I know, I'm getting yours." Sam dug around for a moment before triumphantly holding up a box of his own.

"You...you hid it in...my bag?" Dean stammered.

"The one place you would never think to look." Sam couldn't keep all of the pride out of his voice. It was the first time Dean hadn't found his present before Christmas Day.

"Bravo." Dean actually did sound rather impressed. That lasted all of five seconds, at which time the toddler in him reemerged. "Gimme!"

Sam had to laugh as Dean eagerly ripped at the wrapping paper before opening the box to reveal-- a book.

"The Barnes and Noble bag. The one I never would have looked in. Oh, you're good, Sammy." Dean raised the book suspiciously from the box, but after reading the title, he had to look up at Sam with a huge grin. "Rocking Down the Highway: The Music and Cars That Made History. Little brother, you surprise me every day." Sam was pleased; he had been trying to get Dean to get into reading for years. And a gift that was actually a surprised was the best of all.

Sam took the opportunity to open his own present, while Dean leafed through the book. After clawing his way through the layer of duct tape around the tissue paper ("Jerk!" "Heh heh heh!"), Sam finally got the present all the way open and blinked down at his gift. A gun. "A gun?"

"Look closer, buddy."

Sam leaned in and looked at the wooden stock. JW 1983. "Dad's gun...Dad's first gun?" Sam looked up at Dean, trying to keep this as far from a chick flick moment as he could.

"He would have wanted you to have it."

They both sat quietly for a moment, before Sam finally cleared his throat. "Well, do you want to clean the weapons or something? Maybe start looking for a new case?" Dean considered for a moment than smiled broadly.

"No, I want to kick your ass in a snowball fight."

"You wish!" Sam was on his feet in a flash and they both began to hastily pull on coats and shoes.

"Hey Dean?" Sam said as they walked outside. "Merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas to you too, Sammy." Dean replied, and then promptly stuffed snow into Sam's face.

Supernatural Christmas!

Thu, 16 Nov 2006 16:33:53 GMT

Jonesing for a Supernatural Christmas fix? You know Kripke's not giving us that any sooner than he's giving us the hugging (dammit!), but it's such an appealing idea, isn't it?

A Supernatural Christmas, I mean. Well, and the hugging.

pheebs1 has created the Supernatural Christmas Fic Community , and my goodness, they are going to be some fabulous stories! :)

Also, side note to anyone who feels like helping out the silly newbie...how do you make a cut that links your story elsewhere? *facepalm* Curse me and my lack of livejournal knowledge!

Supernatural Fanfic

Mon, 13 Nov 2006 23:24:35 GMT

Title: Defining a Genre
Fandom: Supernatural
Characters: Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester
Disclaimer: None of these lovely characters are mine; they belong to the genius that is Eric Kripke. Inspiration from “Smack,” an excellent book that I would highly recommend. But that’s not mine either. The bolded lines are quotes from it, however, because it’s a little bit genius, too.
Summary: There’s no fairy tale ending because it’s not the end yet.
I meant to be working on my other fic, but then out of nowhere a plot bunny attacked me in lit class! And we weren’t even talking about anything in this story, was the funny thing. Vicious little plot bunnies. Damn you Kripke!

It wasn’t a love story.

It was a horror film and a drama and a comedy and a tragedy, but no part of the Winchesters story had been romantic.

The Winchesters faced things every day that most people couldn’t dream up in their worst nightmares, and they fought it and they destroyed it and they came out the other side laughing and joking to cover up that inside they were crying and outside they were bleeding. They lived in the outskirts of towns and society, making the best of things, making each other laugh and keeping each other safe and trying to fit into a mold that they weren’t quite made for.

Sam knows it wasn’t a love story when he thinks about how love ended for each of the Winchester men. No matter how deep or passionate it ever was, it always came down to flames at the end.

John Winchester loved Mary with his whole heart, and when he lost her he lost nearly all of him. Their physical home had burned down that night, and so had the idea of home; and try as John might (and with all he had left, he tried) he never seemed to be able to rebuild any semblance of home again. After everything he’d been through John hadn’t been granted a moment of peace, the pain had only gotten worse and worse until the end, and that was far from a love story as far as Sam was concerned.

Sam Winchester loved Jessica with his whole heart, and when he lost her he lost himself for days. Home became the Impala and the road and Dean’s voice mumbling coordinates and weapons and song lyrics. All he had left was Dean, and all Dean ever cared about was everything but himself, and any amount of caring Sam gave to Dean, Dean immediately reflected back to Sam, to John, or to the people they were helping. All Dean had ever cared about was keeping Sam and John safe and happy, and all Sam needed to be happy was to see Dean in peace for once.

Dean Winchester loved his family and the hunt with his whole heart, and he never could seem to love anyone or anything quite so much, save perhaps the Impala. When Mary died and John became the hunter that he was, Dean somehow gained the responsibility of parent to both his little brother and his father as well. Sam suspected that Dean’s heart had been broken since he was four years old, and what kind of love story left someone like that?

The Winchesters were broken and beaten almost beyond repair, and their dark spots were black as midnight, their bright spots blindingly so. It was a story with love in it; it could never be argued that there was no love involved, but when the Demon is gone and so are John and Jess and Mary, and all that’s left are two brothers and the highway, just like before, Sam finds himself wondering what kind of story this really is, anyway.

It was a love story.

Everything their lives had ever been about had centered around, and boiled down to, love.

It was love for Mary that started the hunt, and love for Mary that continued to fuel it. It was love for Jessica that brought Sam back into it. It was love of the hunt and love of the adrenaline rush that kept them diving into fights again and again. It was love for each other that kept them alive all this time.

Dean knows it was a love story when he thinks about how love has ended for each of the Winchester men. John Winchester had loved more deeply than most people could ever understand; he loved so deeply that in the end he had died for it, and wasn’t that what romantics were always talking about anyway? John gave his life for Mary, he gave what little was left of him to honoring her memory and to fighting for her. He gave what little was left of him to keep his boys safe; his only family and the only thing he had left to love. He gave all that he had left to keep Dean alive, in the end. If that’s not love, what is?

Sam Winchester lived for love. For Jessica, for the memory of Mary, for Dean and the memory of his father. He came back to the fight out of love for Jessica, and he stayed in the fight out of love for Dean and John. He threw his whole heart into it and still had room left over for empathy and compassion and hope; he still had room left over for Sarah, and for Dean. Sam felt love more deeply than most people could ever understand; he had been loved his whole life and not matter what else happened, that love never faltered. Sam had always known that he was loved, and had always loved, no matter how far away he was.

Dean Winchester had loved and felt love more deeply than most people could ever understand. Every moment of Dean’s life had been about love, he lived for the hunt that was in reality a crusade for love. Never once did Dean doubt that his family loved him, just as surely as he loved them. His heart wasn’t as big as Sam’s, at the end of the day there wasn’t much room left to love anyone but his family, but that was enough for him. Dean loved his family with more dedication and devotion than most could fathom; he would give his life for them in a heartbeat and often nearly did. Some people would say it was dysfunctional and unhealthy, but damn if Dean’s whole life wasn’t a dysfunctional and unhealthy mess anyway, so it didn’t really bother him that all he needs to be okay is for Sam to be safe and happy.

It was a love story, but it was never your conventional Hollywood kind, and if it was a fairy tale, it was a twisted one. There were heroes and villains; demons and angels; Heaven and Hell; triumphant victories and earth-shattering losses; and constant battles. But when it’s all over and the Demon’s been destroyed, there is no happily ever after, there’s just what there was at the beginning again: two brothers, a stretch of road and a new case, new people to help and a new job to do.

It’s not a fairy tale ending by any means, but when the sun comes up and Dean and Sam slide into the Impala and take of for Illinois, with the radio blaring Kansas and Sam clicking away at the laptop, Dean decides that there’s a reason for that. There’s no fairy tale ending because it’s not the end yet, and Dean’s pretty sure he’s okay with that.

Sam still won’t believe this was a love story, but he’s at home and so is Dean, and he’s pretty sure he’s okay with that.

7 Days and Counting

Sun, 12 Nov 2006 22:33:54 GMT

Yes, only 7 more days until I get to go home!! True, I will most likely be very sick of home after a period of time, but for now I'm just so truly excited to be going home to see my friends and family again! I blame Supernatural for this.

No, seriously. If there's one thing that will make you grateful for your parents and brother, it's watching the Winchester boys suffer over it. Plus, my little brother's name is Sammy. Which I call him. Always. And he calls me Deangirl. Hence my screenname.

Oh man, now I really miss my family!

Anyway.

I have made a new Supernatural vid, to honor the memory of the Great John Winchester, because, well, I loved him. And I miss him terribly.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2fBs1VxhzBk

I know I've already posted this at TWoP, but I'm actaully relatively proud of it. I guess. Hehe.

Off to study for finals...toodles!

Remember, Remember, The Fifth of November

Sun, 05 Nov 2006 20:51:58 GMT

It's my birthday!
Yipee!
I may have a paper to write, but hey, I'm writing it on Supernatural (well, working it in, anyways). I may have a Latin test tomorrow, but the better to learn my exorcisms. The world is a brighter place when you just look at it from a Supernatural point of view! :)

Have a lovely 5th of November everyone! And, I love the poll results! :D Keep voting!

My Poll: Because Everyone Is Discussing It Anyway

Sun, 05 Nov 2006 02:51:28 GMT

View Poll: I Ship Dean/?

Supernatural Vid!

Thu, 02 Nov 2006 08:39:26 GMT

So, I did it. I made a Supernatural vid. It is of my personal opnion that it is not very good, however, my dearest Kristen has informed me otherwise. And she is very wise and all knowing. And beautiful. And writing a Supernatural fic I'm dying to read and storing my baklava in her fridge. So as you can see, she is an excellent judge of these things.

Where had I got to?

Oh yes! In any case, I'd like to know what you all think too, so if want to, take a look:http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=npd5Sej-u0E

And tell me what you think! I heart the comments, after all. :)

Stepping Into The 21st Century, or How Supernatural Can Make Me Do Almost Anything

Wed, 11 Oct 2006 23:02:16 GMT

Ah, yes, welcome to my Livejournal. In case you haven't noticed yet, I have NO idea what I am doing. It's sad, my friends, it's so sad. So why, you might be asking yourself, have I created an LJ with such haste if I have no idea what I am doing, instead of taking the time to figure it all out first?

Because the Win Non Con starts tomorrow, that's why. And since I can't make it to Nashville *sob* this is a necessary step. I decided.

It's not just the WinCon, of course. I also find that the best fanfic and icons are here, and what better way to immerse myself in all things Supernatural than to set up camp in a location where all of that is easily accessable?

Still, I have no idea what I'm doing. So I'm sorry, and please bear with me.