Title: Reader's Special: Fourth Edition - One Shot Reward Fic Collection
Author: Disasteriffic Kaz
Info: A collection of 1 Shot Reward Fics for Prompters of my Reader's Special: Fourth Edition. Features many seasons, hurt/limp/awesome/caring!Sam/Dean/John/Bobby See each chapter for specific info for each 1 shot reward fic.
Author's Note: The Reader's Special: Fourth Edition was a smashing success! Prompters of the story were offered a One Shot Reward story of their choice. These are they. None of the chapters contained in this collection are connected. Each one is a stand-alone one shot per the Prompters request. Thank you to all of you who prompted the Reader's Special! You were fantastic as always!
Chapter Info: For Jenjoremy - A crossover with Grimm where the boys travel to Portland for a possible hunt, pose as agents and speak with Nick and a certain Blutbad during Grimm Season 1, any season of SPN. All plot details up to you but work in a visit to the trailer if possible.
A/N: So, meshing these 2 shows is a bit of a problem since they have two completely different mythologies. Hopefully, I've pulled this off with a little tap-dancing. Season 1 of both shows just to make it easier on me. :D
If you haven't seen/don't know Grimm…I recommend it. Great show. Good stories and characters and a wonderfully developed world of supernatural beasties that can hide in plain sight from the likes of you and me…unless you're a Grimm.
Do please Review once you've read. :D Every comment and vote of support helps keep me writing. Not to mention if I've pooched anything, someone can always tell me. :P
"I'm still not sure this is even a job," Sam said as he glanced through the newspaper clippings in his lap for the third time.
"There's bodies on the ground that look like they've been used for chewtoys." Dean shrugged in the driver's seat. "And last time I checked, Portland, Oregon didn't have a rep for the public being eaten on a daily basis."
Sam chuckled and folded the articles away. "Ok, fine. Well, whatever it is, it's not a werewolf. Only one of these kills happened on a full moon." He ran a finger through the frost on the inside of the window and shivered. "How come we can't end up this far north in the summer?"
"'Cause our luck sucks." Dean snorted a laugh and took the exit into Portland. The sun was just starting to set on the horizon behind them. The city lights started to glow as they drove down toward the city. It was big, and it'd been a while since Dean had been up this far North. "We'll find a motel and then hit up the local P.D. for info."
"Yeah, we'll have to." Sam shook his head. "I tried getting into their servers when we stopped for lunch but there aren't any reports for these killings on their system. It's kind of strange. It's like someone erased them."
"Huh. Maybe whatever's doing the killing can pass for human and works for the police." Dean scowled. "That could make things complicated."
"Let's not borrow trouble." Sam hoped that wouldn't be the case. "I did get one name from the system in connection with the deaths, even though there weren't any reports. A detective. Uh…" Sam flipped through his notes for the name. "Nick Burkhardt." He frowned and looked down at the city as they neared. "Have we ever been to Portland for a job before?"
Dean thought about it for a moment and tapped the wheel. "You know, I don't think so. Big city like this…that's kinda weird all by itself."
They drove into the city proper and found a motel not too far from where the murders had taken place but, Dean hoped, far enough away to keep them out of harm's way while they slept. Dean got them a room and only groaned once at the cheesy, macramé décor. "Think this place got left over from the seventies."
Sam laughed when Dean got tangled in the beaded curtain blocking the bathroom door. "Could be worse."
"How? Piece of crap," Dean growled and tugged several beaded cords free of his collar.
"There could be lava lamps." Sam grinned at his brother's disgusted face and tossed his bag on the far bed. He pulled out his suit while Dean snarled his way into the bathroom and changed quickly. He was arguing with his tie by the time Dean came out, already dressed, and Sam resisted the urge to kick him for using a clip-on tie. "You know that looks unprofessional."
"Whatever, bitch. I'm good to go and you're still gonna be screwin' with that thing when we get there." Dean smiled broadly at him and nodded happily when Sam flipped him off. "Come on. Let's go play Fed with the locals."
The Portland police department was bigger than Dean expected and he couldn't help the occasional nervous twitch as they passed cop after cop and then stood in the elevator with several uniformed officers on their way up to the detective's bullpen. He glanced at his brother and saw the same tension in his face. It wasn't that long ago that Dean's face was on wanted posters, and, while he was technically 'dead', thanks to the shifter, it was possible wanted bulletins were still sitting in offices somewhere waiting to trip them up at a moment's notice. The elevator doors opened and Dean stepped quickly off with Sam at his side. They got more than one curious look as they strode down the hall.
"This looks like it," Dean said and pushed open a set of glass-windowed doors into a busy squad room. "Yep. Dick central," he said under his breath, looking at the many men and women in street clothes milling around various desks.
Sam elbowed his brother with a grimace. "Behave."
"Can I help you find someone, gentlemen?" A shorter looking man of Asian descent in uniform greeted them with a wide smile.
"Yeah. Agent Hendrix." Dean flipped open his badge. "My partner Agent Manilow." Dean quirked a smile when he heard Sam's soft snort. "We're looking for a Detective Burkhardt."
"Didn't think they let pretty boys like you two be federal agents. I'm Sergeant Wu." Wu laughed and waved them in. "I kid. I kid. Over here. Nick! Got a couple new faces for you. Don't get excited. They're Feds. Agents Hendrix and Manilow."
Dean watched the man rise from his desk and turn to look at them. He was young and wearing a beat up leather jacket that Dean had to admire and shaggy dark hair that made him think of his brother. "Detective Burkhardt."
Nick looked up at both men and couldn't stop the smirk as he glanced at Agent Manilow. "Manilow? Any…"
"No relation," Sam said quickly and didn't give in to the temptation to kick his big brother. "We have some questions about a few unsolved murders in your city."
"Yeah, our boss got a bug up his ass and Manilow here ticked him off last week flirtin' with his wife. Hey!" Dean laughed and batted Sam's elbow away. "My partner's a little sensitive about it."
Nick chuckled and put a hand over his mouth to hide the smirk. "Uh, yeah. Sure. What murders? We've got a few to choose from."
Dean gave a wry, understanding smile. "I bet, in a city this size. These would be memorable."
"Bodies with their guts ripped out and signs of, well…" Sam shrugged. "…that, uh, someone ate some of the…remains."
"Oh, those." Nick's face closed down and he didn't miss the way Dean's eyes narrowed knowingly at him. "They're unsolved and we don't have any leads." Federal agents asking about kills he damn well knew were Wesen in origin was about his worst nightmare and these two didn't look like they'd be easily put off. He smiled and tried to look innocent, glad that his partner, Hank, wasn't there to laugh at his attempt. "There's really not much I can tell you."
"We'd like to see the reports," Sam said with an easy smile and didn't miss the way the detective had suddenly closed down. The man knew something he didn't want to say, and, much as Sam hated to admit it, it added weight to Dean's theory that maybe someone in the police department wasn't as human as they seemed…like perhaps Detective Burkhardt.
"I'll have to talk to my captain," Nick said and shrugged apologetically. "If you guys can come back…"
"We'll come back tomorrow." Dean clapped a hand to Sam's shoulder and gave him a nudge toward the door. "Make sure you've got 'em ready."
Nick watched the agents leave and scrubbed a hand through his hair. "That was way too easy," he muttered.
"Dude!" Sam hissed once they were in the hallway. "He knows something and we're just leaving?"
"No shit." Dean snorted. He slapped the button for the elevator. "He's not gonna tell us a damn thing, and sure as hell not in the middle of the squad room." He stepped into the elevator when the doors opened and grinned at Sam. "I say we make a quick visit to the morgue, have a look at the bodies, and then tail our friendly neighborhood detective when he leaves work. See what he gets up to off the clock."
Sam climbed out of the Impala and looked dubiously at the storage facility they'd followed the detective to. "Looks like Bobby's junkyard." The yard beyond the tall, chain link fence was packed with trucks, vans, dilapidated RV's and shipping containers.
Dean nodded and headed down the fence near an overpass. "Be a good place to hide out and cook up your victim's entrails."
Sam groaned. "Well, now I'm not hungry anymore."
"Suck it up, geek." Dean chuckled and pointed. "There. We can climb that and get over the fence." He jogged over to a stack of crates at the edge of the overpass and climbed quickly up. Dean pulled off his leather jacket and flung it over the single string of barbed wire at the top. "Don't tear my leather goin' over, dude. I will maim you."
Sam laughed and waited for his brother to go over the top of the fence in an agile vault. "Relax." He planted his hands on either side, making sure to fist his hand in the leather as he jumped, rolled and brought the jacket with him. "Here, you big baby."
Dean made a point of studying his jacket critically before pulling it back on. "You're lucky."
"You're a prima donna." Sam grinned and started into the yard, slipping quietly between containers and vehicles. "You see his truck?" he asked softly.
Dean shook his head and stepped ahead of Sam. "Hang on. Gimme a leg up." He put his foot in Sam's hands when his brother bent and offered and reached up to grab the top of a shipping container. Dean rolled up onto the cold metal and stood to survey the crowded yard. He smiled and rolled back over the side to land with a thump beside Sam. "Got him. About thirty yards that way parked next to a little camper. There's a light on inside."
"We could be wrong, you know," Sam cautioned softly as they drew their guns and stalked closer. "Might just be a human. Maybe the guy's just naturally suspicious."
Dean snorted. "Right, and he spends his off time in a midget camper in the ass end of Portland for kicks? Nope. Something's hinkey about this guy. I know it."
Sam rolled his eyes but trusted Dean's instincts. He was rarely wrong about people, at least on a job. He slid up alongside the little battered, white camper. Detective Burkhardt's truck was parked next to it, and Sam heard the sound of low voices inside. He tapped Dean's shoulder, pointed to his ear when Dean looked at him and held up two fingers.
Dean nodded; he'd heard the voices as well. He moved up to the little door in the side and raised a brow at his brother. Sam gave him a shrug to say he didn't have a better idea and moved so he'd have a clear view into the trailer. Dean grabbed the handle and counted to three in his head before he yanked the door open and lunged inside, leading with his gun.
"Whoa! Whoa! Holy crap, don't shoot!" A tall man with a head of curly hair and a beard threw his arms up and staggered back into Nick at a small desk near the rear of the camper. "Friends of yours, Nick? 'Cause I gotta say, I'm not feeling the warm and fuzzies here."
Nick's hand inched to his own gun and stopped with Agent Hendrix's eyes firmly on him. "Agent? What are you…" He saw movement outside the door and his eyes widened as the taller man stepped into view. "…both of you, doing here? How'd you even find me?" Nick looked at his friend and smirked. "Monroe, put your hands down. They're not gonna shoot you."
"Maybe." Dean said quickly and shrugged one shoulder. "Kinda depends on what exactly you know about those murders that you aren't telling us."
"Dean." Sam had been cataloguing the interior of the camper with his eyes and had a feeling that they had definitely jumped wrong. "I think…they're Hunters, like us. Look at this place." Sam stepped up into the camper, ducking to get in the door and knew he was right.
"Oh, crap," Monroe said with feeling and sagged. He moved quickly behind Nick. "You're Hunters?"
"They're federal agents," Nick said and turned to see real fear on his friend's face. "Monroe?"
Monroe shook his head and made sure to keep Nick between him and the two very tall men. "You know how you track down Wesen and, you know, the whole 'Grimm' thing?" He made air quotes with his fingers, and his eyes never left Dean's gun. "They pretty much do what you do but for all the other supernatural crap out there that isn't us…Wesen. The stuff they can actually see as normal humans. Or not see, if it's invisible, I suppose. The point is, they know there's more out there than just people…and they hunt it."
"Whoa. Hang on." Dean lowered his gun an inch, sensing that Sam was right and he'd jumped wrong. At the same time Nick threw a what-the-hell-are-you-talking-about glance over his shoulder at his friend. Dean was pretty sure his own expression was similar. "What the hell's a…a vessin? Sammy?"
"Is that what's been killing people here?" Sam asked. He took a step further into the camper and stopped when he saw Dean's hands tense around his gun. He wisely took a step back with Dean's silent warning that he didn't trust the detective or his friend just yet. "Look, Monroe is it?" Sam smiled when the man behind the detective nodded. "You're right. We're not feds. We came here looking for whatever has been mauling these victims. If you're looking for it too, then maybe we can work together." Sam rolled his eyes when Dean slapped the back of his arm. "What? Dean, we followed a detective and drew our guns on him. You really think he's not gonna check us out after this and find out we're full of crap?"
"Well, he sure as hell knows it now." Dean groaned and lowered his gun. "Awesome. I'm Dean. This idiot masquerading as a genius is my little brother, Sammy."
Monroe snorted an uneasy laugh and bumped the back of Nick's shoulder. "How did you talk to these two already today and not peg them for brothers? I mean, it's obvious. Federal agents." He laughed with a shake of his head. "You guys kinda suck at the whole 'we're really not brothers' thing."
"Not helping, Monroe," Nick said with a groan. "Ok. I think maybe we need to start again. Who the hell are you two really?"
Dean blew out a breath and grudgingly put up his gun. He waved a hand at the cluttered interior of the camper - the artifacts, potion bottles, and the books lying open on the desk with hand drawn pictures of creatures on their pages. "Same thing you are, by the looks of it."
"He's a Grimm," Monroe said cheerfully and shrugged with an innocent look when Nick glared at him. "What? You are. No point in pussyfooting around it."
"What's grim?" Sam frowned in confusion. "Why do I get the feeling we're having a language barrier issue here?"
"He didn't say grim. He said 'a grim'." Dean quirked a brow in a tacit request for explanation.
"It's a bloodline. The Grimms have the ability to see Wesen." Monroe scratched his head, trying to find the best way to explain it. "There's a whole…I dunno…subset of, well, of creatures that Hunters more or less don't know anything about." He smirked at the look of disbelief on Dean's and Sam's faces. "You can't see us. You guys have nabbed a few of us over the years, but only in our Woged forms, and you guys are basically clueless. No offense."
"I'm not clueless. Shut up, Sam." Dean glared over at his brother's soft laugh.
Sam rubbed a hand over his face and smiled. "Right. I think maybe you need to give us a crash course in these…Wesen."
An hour later, Sam was leaned over the desk with Nick flipping through the pages of the Grimm diaries and shaking his head in wonder at the sheer number of creatures he'd never even heard of before. "This is…how can Hunters not know about any of this?"
"They look like normal human beings to you, Sam."
Sam shook his head slightly. "Lots of things appear human…until they change. We know about them."
Nick smiled and glanced at Monroe. "Wesen are…a very private society. They keep what they are hidden most of the time. A lot are just normal…folks…living normal lives, not hurting anyone. I only see their real faces when they're scared or, you know, pissed off." He chuckled. "I tend to have that effect on them, when they find out who I am."
"It'd be like if Dracula wandered into your living room, introduced himself, and asked for a drink," Monroe said with a smirk. His smile faded when he realized the other brother, Dean, was still sitting on the other side of the camper and hadn't taken his eyes off him. "Something on my face?"
"I dunno. I'm not a Grimm," Dean said evenly. "So what are you then?"
"Huh?" Monroe backed up a step and tried to look harmless. "I'm just a watchmaker, man. I repair clocks and watches and get dragged into the occasional life-or-death situation by Nick because he has no sense of responsibility for my well-being."
"I do too." Nick laughed, but he was watching Dean now as well. He'd been a cop long enough to sense when someone was dangerous even when they appeared calm and relaxed. He did not sense any bad intent from the man across from him, but he radiated 'dangerous'. "Why do you think he's not human?"
"He slipped up earlier." Dean sat up a little straighter and saw his brother stiffen from the corner of his eye. "He was talking about the Wesen and he said 'like us'." He nodded in Monroe's direction. "So what are you and should I have my gun back out?"
Monroe raised his hands slowly and took a step around the desk closer to Nick. "Look, man. I'm harmless. Just your friendly neighborhood Blutbad."
"Blut…werewolf." Sam pulled one of the Grimm diaries over and flipped through the pages. "I saw that. You're a werewolf?" He raised a hand out to his brother when Dean rose and drew his gun in one fluid motion, aiming it at Monroe, his eyes hardening. "Take it easy, Dean. That doesn't mean the same thing for Wesen that it does for the ones we're used to."
"Monroe's one of the good guys, Dean." Nick fearlessly stepped in front of his friend and could practically feel Monroe vibrating with tension behind him. "I don't know what kind of Blutbad you guys are used to, but…"
"The kind that change during a full moon and kill everything in sight," Dean said simply. "They change and they lose all their humanity."
"Yeah, well. I'm not like that. We aren't like that." Monroe said quickly. "None of that lunar cycle crap. The ones you hunt, they're, like…feral. Poor suckers. Got nothing to do with me."
The tension in the room was palpable. Dean in full-on Hunter mode tended to have that effect, and Sam walked over to his brother and put a hand on his gun, easing it down. "He's not a threat." He smiled at Dean's incredulous look. "It's in the books, Dean. He's safe. And anyway, look at the guy." Sam moved so Dean could see past him. "He's shaking in his sneakers."
"Monroe's a friend and he helps me." Nick sighed in relief when Dean's gun slowly lowered back to his side. "I'm kinda new at this, and half the time I don't know what I'm doing with any of it."
"Half the time?" Monroe said and grinned unrepentantly when Nick turned a quick glare to him. "I'm just saying."
"The only thing he's guilty of is being a pain in the ass." Nick smiled when Dean laughed.
"I sympathize." Dean ran a hand through his hair and put his gun up for the second time that night. He gave Monroe a measuring look and then shrugged. "He bites me, I'm gonna be pissed."
Sam laughed and moved back to the desk and Nick now that the crisis was averted. He couldn't help looking more closely at Monroe, trying to see what he knew now was hidden there, but all he saw was a perfectly normal human. He shook his head and leaned back over the books. "So, Nick. Do you have a likely candidate for the murders?" Sam wanted a month to camp with Nick's books and dig through them, learn everything he could about Wesen. It astounded him that the Hunting community knew next to nothing about them.
"We were narrowing it down when you two…dropped by," Nick said and smiled. He pulled one of the diaries over and opened it, turning pages until he found what he wanted. He pushed it over to Sam. "I think this is our killer. A Rissfleich."
"Rissflish?" Dean snorted. "That doesn't even sound real."
Sam smirked and looked over at him. "Wendigo."
"Point taken." Dean laughed.
"We have those, too." Nick waved at another of the books. "There seems to be a lot of overlap between your…your world and mine. I just never realized yours was…real. Figured all the stories just came from various Wesen encounters over the centuries that some folks survived to describe."
"I wish we had time to compare notes." Sam looked down at the book and the picture of the Rissfleich. "A tiger-like Wesen." He frowned at the book. "Damn, my German's a little rusty."
"It says they attack their prey with a pounce before tearing out their stomachs and feeding on the entrails." Monroe swallowed and sighed. "Very messy eaters."
"I think I know where to find him." Nick leaned back against the shelves and crossed his arms over his chest. "I interviewed a guy yesterday. He was definitely upset about talking to cops and I saw his face…his real face, I mean. He had tiger stripes. I'm learning not to believe in coincidences on this job."
"I hear that." Dean stood and came over to look at the picture. "Ugly bastard. Anything special required to kill a…a Wesen? Need anything chanted in Latin, Sammy's your man."
Nick looked over in surprise. "Does that actually work?"
"Only on some things." Sam said seriously. "Certain spells, rituals, some spirits, demons…dad had me reciting exorcisms in Latin when I was ten."
"Spirits? As in ghosts? No way." Monroe shook his head and then stared at the serious faces of both men. "Seriously?"
"Dude, you have no idea." Dean shook his head. "Don't want to either. So, where do we find the killer kitty?"
Nick looked at him. "No way. You two have no idea what you're up against here. We'll handle it. You guys take a night off and enjoy some of the local night life."
Dean shook his head, "Ain't happenin'. Me and him? We've been hunting things that go bump in the night and can shred you in under 30 seconds since we were kids. How long did you say you've been at this? We go after it together or we go separately. Don't make much difference to me." Dean gave Nick a tight smile. "We'll just follow you…again."
Nick looked at Monroe and got a shrug in response to his silent question of whether the brothers should come along. He sighed. "Alright then. You do what I tell you." He glared when Dean snorted. "I'm not kidding. You may very well know what you're doing, but this is my city and my job. I could just as easily turn you both in as frauds and let you cool your heels in lockup while we take care of this."
"He'll listen," Sam said quickly and stared his brother down. "We both will." He raised a brow at Dean to say they would do what they were told as long as they could and then smiled at Nick again. "Lead the way."
"Bullets should work on a Rissfleich, at least according to this." Nick tapped the Wesen's image on the page. He took out his own sidearm, checked that it was loaded and slid it back into his holster. "Let's get going."
Monroe watched Dean and Sam as they moved like a silent unit, weapons drawn and flanking him and Nick into the warehouse Nick had led them to. He shook his head and smiled when Dean glanced at him.
"What?" Dean asked softly.
"I think there must be a little Grimm in your family tree somewhere." Monroe gave a wry smile. "You're both kind of scary…like him." He hooked a thumb at Detective Burkhardt.
"I'm not scary," Nick said and rolled his eyes.
"Yeah, you are, but it's part of your charm." Monroe shrugged. "Or something." He opened his mouth to say more and stopped, inhaling deeply. He grabbed Nick's elbow and pulled him to a stop. "He's here. The Rissfleich. I can smell him now."
"You tell where?" Nick watched Monroe's face and frowned when he shook his head. "Ok, spread out, but stay where I can see you."
Dean nodded and gave a flick of his fingers to Sam to take the other side of the warehouse. He gave another nod to Nick and moved off to the far side. The center of the warehouse where the detective and Monroe walked was a mostly empty space. A few loading vehicles were parked here and there in the middle, and it was toward them they walked. The sides of the warehouse were lined with ten-foot shelves packed with crates, and, above them, a network of catwalks crisscrossed the air in a maze.
Sam looked up and kept his eyes on the catwalks. They were the best way the creature would have of catching them unawares. He felt a little off his game, hunting something they'd never even heard of before. He knew Dean felt a little out of his depth as well, though his brother would never admit it. Sam smirked and glanced over to where he could just make out Dean on the other side of the warehouse before he passed behind one of the loaders. Dean would put on a brave face in the face of Death himself, Sam thought.
"You sure you can't tell where he is?" Nick whispered and felt the prickle on the back of his neck that said they were being watched.
"I smell him. It's not a built-in Wesen location detection system," Monroe retorted sarcastically.
Nick grinned over at him. "You worked on that one, didn't you?"
"I can go home, you know." Monroe stifled a laugh and sniffed the air again. "He's close, but this whole place sort of smells like…rotting meat."
"That's comforting," Nick whispered and looked around the warehouse again. He spotted Dean easily enough, but when he turned to his other side, he realized they'd allowed one of the loaders to come between them and Sam. "Sam?"
Dean's head jerked down from the catwalks with the whisper of his brother's name and fear stabbed into his gut when he couldn't see him, his vision blocked by the large piece of machinery in the center of the room. "No." Dean glanced up and around and quickly strode across the open expanse of floor toward Nick and Monroe. His walk became a run when his eyes caught the barest hint of movement in the dark above. "Sam! Look up!" A dark shadow dropped the catwalk. Two shots sounded in the warehouse, deafening him for a moment, and then he was running. "Sammy!"
Nick burst into motion and beat Dean around the machinery in time to watch the Rissfleich stagger away from Sam, who was prone on the floor, and snarl at him. "Back off," Nick warned.
Dean sprinted past Monroe and slid to a stop in surprise. At first, he'd seen a man standing over his brother, but as he watched, the human face contorted and shifted and suddenly he was looking at the snarling visage of a tiger with clawed hands and vicious teeth. He leveled his gun at the creature when it took a step back toward Sam, and Dean saw blood dripping from the Rissfleich's chest where Sam had shot it. "Sam?"
The Wesen roared, seemingly knowing that it was caught and launched himself toward Nick. The detective and Dean both fired into the creature's body, but momentum was carrying him forward. At the last moment, Monroe slammed into the Rissfleich's side with a loud growl and rolled them both away across the floor, leaving Nick to stagger in surprise.
"Holy crap," Dean gasped when Monroe rose from the now dead man's body and he got a look the Blutbad's true face. It was definitely wolf-like with red eyes and fearsome teeth, yet, as Dean watched, Monroe shook himself and the wolf face melted away to be replaced by his human face once more.
"Monroe…thanks." Nick bent to catch his breath and smiled at his friend.
"All part of the service," Monroe said and got to his feet. He looked down at his sweater and groaned, brushing at a blood stain across the front. "I'm sending you my dry cleaning bill."
"Sammy?" Dean dropped to his knees next to his brother and grabbed his head. "Sam."
"Ow," Sam moaned and blinked his eyes open blearily. "That…that hurt."
Dean put a shaking hand over the blood covering his brother's stomach. "How bad?"
"Huh?" Sam raised his head slowly and looked down at himself. "Dude…s'not mine. He just…body slammed me into the concrete. I shot him." Sam let his head roll back into Dean's hand. "D'I get him?"
Nick chuckled and knelt next to the brothers. He patted Sam's leg with a smile. "Yeah, Sam. You got him."
Dean blew out a breath in relief and smiled. "Come on, sasquatch. Up." He pulled until his little brother was sitting up and held on to him when he listed sideways with a soft groan. Dean put a hand to the back of his head and rolled his eyes. "Well, some of the blood's yours, dude." He put his hand around where Sam could see the spots of blood. "Cracked your head but good."
"I'll call an ambulance and…" Nick stopped when Dean shook his head.
"Naw, we got this." Dean looked down at his brother. "Unless you think you need a hospital. Do ya?"
The look on Dean's face said clearly that Sam shouldn't bullshit him and he smirked. "No. I'm ok. Just…got my bell rung. Dean can fix me up."
Dean smiled over at Nick. "Our line of work, hospitals are for dire emergencies only. Occupational hazard." He got to his feet and brought Sam up with him, steadying him when he swayed a little drunkenly. "Good?"
Sam nodded slowly. "Yeah." He looked over at the Rissfleich's body and sighed. "He just looks like a person."
"I'll take care of it," Nick told them. He put his gun away and held a hand out to Dean. "Thanks for the help, guys." He shook Dean's hand and then Sam's. "Do me a favor? Next time you're in my city, let me know so we can compare notes."
"Deal." Sam smiled and held his hand out to Monroe, shaking it warmly. "I'd like to learn more about the Wesen. And Grimms. Always wondered if those brothers were actually Hunters."
Nick chuckled. "Not quite, but close, apparently." He smiled and then reached a hand out, tapping the knot of Dean's tie. "And uh…the whole federal agent thing would look a lot more convincing if you wore an actual tie."
Sam snickered at his brother. "Told you."
"Shut up. Come on, geek." Dean turned him away and pulled him into a walk. "Get you back to the motel so I can stitch that head up before your genius brains leak out."
Sam smiled and did his best to walk in a straight line as they left. "Hey…you still have my copy of Grimm's Fairy Tales in the trunk?"
"Why would I still have that?" Dean rolled his eyes.
Sam looked at his brother's face, saw the slight flush he was clearly trying to hide and began to laugh. "You do. It's still in there. You kept it."
"Aw, Dean. That's so sweet!"
"Bite me, bitch."
"I kept it for kindling." Dean pulled Sam's arm over his shoulders when he swayed again. "Gonna start a nice big fire with it."
Sam smiled happily and put a hand to his pounding head. "Nothing but a big softie. Don't worry, I won't tell anyone and ruin your bad ass reputation."
"Seriously. Shuddup before I dump your ass on the side of the road." Dean snarled, but he couldn't stop the smile as they reached the Impala. "Get in before you fall down." He helped Sam in, closed his door and went to the trunk. Dean opened it and reached unerringly for a panel in the back, pulled it up and took out a tattered, dog-eared copy of Grimm's Fairy Tales that Sam had loved as a kid. He held it up and shook his head as he looked at it. "Wesen. Our lives are weird."
I'm still waiting to receive prompts from these wonderful people. If your name is on the list, please review or PM me with your prompt for your One Shot Reward: Any season, anything. Your wish is my command for your help making the Fourth Edition as fun as the first three. :D
K Hanna Korossy
Only send me a prompt if your name is ON the list. This is not an open call for ideas. The people above have earned a one shot of their choice for contributing to the Reader's Special. If you missed your chance...better get in on the fun next time!