Washed as white as snow

He tries to convince himself that she's just a girl.

Disclaimer: The Winchester boys aren't mine and River Tam doesn't belong to me, either.

Rating: T (Language, Angst)

Characters: Dean, River Tam (Gen)

Spoilers/Warnings: None for Firefly, although season three of Supernatural is fair game.

A/N: This is another story in my Rhapsody on a Windy Night 'verse. It was written for the Sixth Sense prompt at crossovers100 on Livejournal.

Beta: Just myself and my own mistakes.

You're the brother who runs from dogs.

He tries to convince himself that she's not dangerous, that she's a slip of a girl who wears flowery dresses and dances barefoot underneath a tree whenever they stop for gas, but her eyes pick him apart every time she cocks her head – sifting through the secrets crawling out of him, the worm in his rotten apple, and all that's left is his exposed belly and the goddamn howl in the distance.

But sometimes, when she's curled around Sam, he hopes that the promise she whispers is true.

Kisses can wake the dead.


The title of this story is a line from the poem "The Hippopotamus" by T.S. Eliot.