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In Spite of All the Danger (1/13)

Title: In Spite of All the Danger
Chapter Title: Dear Prudence
Wordcount: 446 this chapter
Rating: R (for one 4-letter word in this chapter) Overall, perhaps T
Characters/Pairings: Sam, Dean, OMC with appearances by Castiel and Ruby (in later chapters)
Warnings: None
Spoilers: None so far. It's set late season 4 so there will possibly be eventual mentions of what's gone on before
Disclaimer: If you recognize the character, it's not mine
Summary: The brothers, in the course of a simple salt and burn, meet up with a stranger who conveniently needs to be rescued
A/N: This is my first Supernatural fic so please be kind. I'm a little nervous regarding its reception. This entry is edited with input from my beta just_ruth Song on YouTube: Dear Prudence--The Beatles

He tried to get leverage on the thing that had its hand on his throat. It still amazed him that something so insubstantial could have such a grip. He had done the research and had come properly armed, but again ended up on the wrong side of the confrontation. He spared a quick glance to his right and saw the iron rod just out of reach. He stretched his arm out and his fingertips just brushed the metal. The spirit growled and he returned his attention to staying alive.

“Hey, asshole!”

He then heard the blast of a shotgun and the pressure was gone. He looked up at a younger face as a man with short dark hair gave him a hand up and he grabbed the rod. “Thanks.”

“Thank me after we gank this bitch.”

He saw the spirit materialize behind the other man and took a swing at it with the iron, dispersing it again. “I think we’ve made it angry.”

“No shit, Sherlock,” said the newcomer as he shot the spirit again. “Sam!” he yelled. “Any time now!”

Moments after the spirit appeared yet again, it seemed to burst into flames and disappear. “Wow, that was…something.” He’d never seen anything quite like it before.

“Are you nuts? Why are you doing this alone? This spirit’s been dangerous for years! It took me and Sam days to find out where she was buried.”

While he was yelling, a taller, more muscular man entered the house, snow dotting his shoulders and hair as well as caked on his boots. “Dude, what’s going on? Who’re you yelling at?”

“This crazy limey thought he could take of Dear Prudence alone.”

“Like you never did anything like that?” The second man turned to him. “I’m Sam and this jerk is my brother Dean.”

“Alan. Let me say thanks by buying you a beer. My throat’s a little sore.”

Dean shrugged. “I wouldn’t say no.”

“I’ve never known you to.” Sam looked at Alan. “Thanks.”

“’Kay. Let’s go, Sammy.” Dean headed for the door.

Alan walked with Sam to the porch. “I’ll meet you guys at Kelly’s. No relation, but I feel I have to patronize. My transport’s over that way.” He waved his hand toward the back of the house.

“Don’t take too long or we’ll run the tab up!” called Dean from the driver’s side of a dark, classic muscle car.

“I’ll try not to even though I believe you’d do it to teach me a lesson.”

Dean only gave him a cocky grin as he got into the car. Sam opened the passenger door and got in, folding his tall frame into the seat. Once they started towards the road, Alan left the porch.

Two: You Can't Do That


SPN Dean Writing

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