Title: When in Doubt, Send the Marines
Disclaimer: I don't own Sam, Dean, any of the kids or the title. The title is taken from the Tom Lehrer song of the same title, and all the names you recognise are from Supernatural. The only character that belongs to me is Col. Peterson.
Timeline: Post-apocalyptic future, clearly AU.
Genre: Humour, future.
Summary: Humanity survives the end of the world. Now what?
Notes: This is a humorous one-shot. There isn't anything else to this story. It exists in a vacuum and I have nothing to follow and nothing to explain how things got here. The whole thing is just designed to lead up to the punch line. Really, I'm not even sure anyone but me will find it funny, but it's a plot bunny for this one scene and it never ceases to amuse me. If someone gets inspired to continue the story, write a backstory or anything else, feel free to pick up where this leaves off.
Colonel Peterson looked out over the city that was no longer, from the now fortified home of some rich guy who'd had more money than sense a hundred years before. The original owner, a man named Thomas Bakker, had built a mediaeval castle with all the defensive trimmings including a moat and drawbridge.
When the city had gone up in flames and the demons and monsters had come boiling up practically out of the ground, people had fled for shelter. Amazingly, this one place was the only thing that had withstood the attacks. Peterson and a bunch of others from the air force barracks on the outskirts of town had fought their way through the craziness and had holed up with a bunch of civilians in the castle.
They still let people in, but only while the sun was up. They'd learned the hard way that anyone coming in after dark was too suspect to be let in. Some decent folks had probably died because of that policy, but he'd seen a lot of monsters hissing and spitting in frustration outside.
He was the one in charge, sadly, because he was the only one who'd watched way too much Buffy the Vampire Slayer, (hey, his girlfriend had really liked it) had a hugely superstitious grandmother and he'd kept his head enough to remember that when the creatures appeared. So, he was in charge of the castle, and he still didn't know why all those kids had insisted on naming it. It was an odd thing, but there were a couple dozen kids running around, all of them in some sort of strange cahoots with each other.
It was getting close to sunset when he heard a rumble in the distance. At first he thought it might be thunder, but it was too mechanical for that. A vehicle of some kind, then.
Suddenly, he heard it; over the engine was a sound he hadn't heard in years. It was music. Metallica.
What the hell?
And suddenly, it was in front of him. Some sort of big, black, gas-guzzling, 70s pimp-car. There were two men in it. Civilians from the look of them. Peterson knew better. He raised the gun. Knowing that they'd try to get in by tricking him. Knowing that there couldn't possibly be two civilians running around without trouble out there. Knowing that—
The kids had spotted the men and were lowering the drawbridge.
Peterson was already off his self-appointed post, hurtling down the stairs, trying to get to the kids who were letting these men – things – in.
"Hey!" he shouted as he vaulted down the last couple steps. "What the hell are you doing!"
The bridge was down, the men were in with their car, and the kids were already bringing the bridge up. Great. Now they were trapped inside with these guys who couldn't possibly be safe.
No one answered, and he was crossing the courtyard at a run.
"Lucas! Dude!" said one. He was tall, had a five-o'clock shadow and a James Dean attitude to go with the leather jacket he wore. He also seemed a little familiar.
The kid, a redhead that Peterson vaguely recalled was named Lucas Barr, leaped up. "Dean!"
Another one, a girl this time, hurtled over as well. "Sam!" she shouted, leaping at the second. He was really, really tall and was managing to look totally harmless, but Peterson could see the strength and control in the man's body.
"Hey Taylor," he said with an easy, dimpled smile.
"Dean! I knew you'd come!" said another. Peterson did a double take. Ben Braedon, that little hellion, was why the first one, Dean, looked familiar.
"Ben, hey man." Dean dropped an almost fatherly hand to the kid's head.
Asher and Mike, Sari and Richie, Rosie and a whole bunch of other kids all came pouring out from where the drawbridge controls were housed. Their parents followed.
Sam and Dean were borne over to Peterson on a wave of enthusiastic prepubescence. Then Ben, Lucas and Mike, who seemed to have some sort of pre-eminence with the kids hurried to the front, bringing a halt to the various exclamations of welcome from all the people.
"Sam, Dean," said Mike. "This is Colonel Peterson. He's been in charge and keeping us safe 'til now."
'Til now? thought Peterson. Mike continued. "Colonel, this is Dean and Sam Winchester."
"Yeah!" said Sari with enthusiasm. "We're safe now. Sam and Dean'll get rid of the monsters."
Two things ran through Peterson's mind as he shook hands with the men. The first, what am I? Chopped liver? And the second . . .
So this is why the kids wanted to name it Fort Winchester.