So in preparation for the new season of Supernatural starting next week, I bring you a short-ish chapter story about a possible AU way of season 5 starting! This is pretty much a friendship/family piece, no slash, no romance, at least, not that I have planned at the moment. ;) It's my first SN fic so be kind and I hope I do the boys justice. Hope you enjoy!
It had been a week since Sam had broken the last seal, a week since Lucifer had risen, a week, and nothing had changed. Dean and Sam were holed up at Bobby's, waiting for the apocalypse to begin, for the rapture to start, anything. Yet it had been the calmest week the trio had ever seen, which was the only oddity they could find. No strange deaths and nothing to suggest there was anything supernatural going on in the world. That was what concerned Dean the most, if the supernatural forces out there weren't spending their energy on causing chaos, what were they spending it on? He paced across the living room floor, his shoes making a clunking sound against the floorboards.
His other concern was the complete lack of Castiel, had he survived the fight against the archangel? If he had, was he being punished for helping Dean escape? Either way the fault seemed to lie with Dean, he was the one who convinced Castiel to help him escape and he was the reason Castiel had had to find the archangel. Of course he was sure if Castiel had heard a bit of these thoughts he'd argue that Dean hadn't forced him to do anything, he had chosen to do them and the fault was his own. Even thinking that, Dean still felt guilty, Castiel had risked so much for him and he hadn't even been able to stop Sam from killing Lillith.
He wondered if indirectly having a part in an angel's death would seal his fate to end up back in hell one day. It wasn't like he had any doubts that that was where he'd spend eternity anyway. Feeling like the pacing wasn't really doing much good; Dean plopped down on the couch behind him and was immediately met by a flurry of feet. He jumped up and saw Bobby's dog looking up at him indignantly from where he had sat.
"Stupid, mutt," Dean said, having had quite enough of the creature. He had never expected Bobby to have an indoor dog, one that got to stay inside and only went outside when the thing wanted to. Much less a dog that could very much be considered a toy dog. It was a Shih-Tzu, what kind of grown man chose to have a lap dog that refused to listen and was much less inclined to fending off dangerous beings? Of course he'd asked Bobby that and Bobby had this big spiel about finding the dog malnourished and dehydrated on the street and couldn't let the thing suffer. Yet the aging hunter hadn't been able to properly explain why he still had the dog and why said dog was now chubby and had a collar with Bobby's number above its name, Pepper.
Dean was still locked in a glaring contest with Pepper-remembering how she'd thieved every spot Dean vacated even if he planned to come back-when Sam walked in.
"If you're done accomplishing nothing with that glare, I have pizza," Sam said, smirking as he walked to the only free table in Bobby's place. Dean glared one last time at Pepper, gave her one 'I'm watching you' gesture with his fingers for good measure, then went after the smell of pizza. As was custom at Bobby's place, if you wanted to sit to eat you had to find your own chair. Dean returned to the living room, pulled a chest off of a chair missing a leg, and carried it back to the table. Sam was back, sitting on a crate and Bobby was just walking in, stool in hand. He sat the stool in front of the table then grabbed plates and three beers out of the fridge.
Sam opened the top box of pizza and put two slices on each plate, setting a plate in front of each seat. This had become a sort of pattern amongst the boys after a week of having nothing to do. They ate, they slept, then they started the whole thing over again the following day. Dean bit into his slice of pizza, once a pleasure he looked forward to but now dull since they'd had this same pizza for dinner the entire week.
"Dude, I can't take this anymore," Dean said, letting the slice of pizza fall to his plate. It landed with a splat, getting droplets of oil all over the table. "Why the hell isn't something happening?"
Sam and Bobby looked at each, hoping someone would have the answer but of course they were all wanting to know the same thing.
"This is like the calm before the storm, boys," Bobby reasoned, his pizza hanging limply from his hand. "Something's gonna happen and we need to be prepared when it does because I get the feeling it's gonna be bigger than we're expectin."
That was as good an answer as Dean could have expected and he sighed and continued to eat his pizza. When he looked down he saw Pepper sitting on the floor next to his chair, staring at him for all she was worth.
"Bobby, could you make your poodle stop staring at me," Dean said, trying to push the dog away with the toe of his shoe. She just moved out of reach and sat back down, continuing to stare.
"She ain't hurtin nothin," replied Bobby.
"She's burning a hole in my head."
Bobby rolled his eyes but whistled and Pepper quickly joined her master, mainly because Bobby table fed her. Which was what he did the moment she sat within his reach, peeling a pepperoni and tossing it to her. Sam was silently eating, looking as he had for the last week, like he had the weight of the world on his shoulders. Dean knew Sam blamed himself for starting the apocalypse but Dean knew it wasn't entirely his fault. He'd been used and abused by Ruby who had effectively persuaded him into believing her lies. Dean had left Sam with her for six months; if anyone was to blame it was him.
Which seemed to be yet another pattern going around, things that are Dean's fault. Suddenly the last slice of pizza on his plate didn't look so appealing. Instead, Dean excused himself from the table and headed for the room that had been designated his. He stepped inside and went straight to the bed where he laid down hoping to fall asleep.