We're all going to Hell.

[Prompt #47 – A Summer Sport. Written for likely_evil. Set in the actual canon au.]

“Can I ask you guys something?”

The question comes in that hesitant “I know this is a dumb question but I grew up in a zombie apocalypse” tone that Olivia usually has when she’s about to ask something that should be obvious to everyone else in the world who grew up outside of one. It’s a question that usually comes when Hal’s asked her about something over text and she doesn’t want to come off as ignorant as she actually is. Or get that incredulous expression that comes with her not knowing something.

Bela and Sam are sitting in the kitchen with cups of coffee, mostly just trying to enjoy some time to themselves, and they both have gotten this question often enough that they manage to at least school their features about something she should obviously be aware of.

“Of course,” Bela replies with a small smile. “What is it?”

She looks anxiously between the two of them for a moment as she pours herself a cup of coffee, before finally spitting it out. “What are the Olympics?” There’s a beat, before the clarification just pours out of her as she overcompensates. “I know it’s some kind of sports thing, but I’ve never actually seen them so … I don’t really know for sure.”

Sam chuckles slightly, before nodding. “It is, a sports thing. Sit.”

Olivia blinks, looking confused. “It’s a complicated sports thing? I mean, in a lot of ways it’s just like a massive Super Bowl, right?” The Super Bowl had just passed, and she had gone up to Berkeley to go to Hal’s party as a result, which might have been where the Olympics had come up in the first place.

“Sort of,” Bela replies. “It’s actually a lot more prestigious than that.”

( *** )

708 words

[Prompt #40. Breakdown. Written for saved. IDK when this is set timeline wise, but this is what came to me.]

[♫ Better Days ~ Amos Lee]

Winchesters tend to live their life frayed at the edges.

Bela learns that about them early on. They’re pulled apart in all directions, duty and family and survival all rolled into one. Choosing any one side means losing a part of themselves, conceding a piece of them to the demons they battle on a regular basis, and there’s no real winner. Hell keeps rising and with each day the world becomes a little more frayed at the edges, and it’s all part of the struggle to try and keep themselves together before they fall apart completely.

Dean manages by drinking. He tries to hold on to his resolute, black and white world (save for Sam, he sacrifices everything for Sam), unwilling to lose himself completely in shades of gray. Bela always lived in the gray, having sacrificed her morals long ago for whatever it takes to keep herself alive. Sam, on the other hand, doesn’t do well in the in-betweens. His experience and his own personal demons won’t allow him to live his life in black and white, as much as he may scramble to keep purchase there, but his heroic ideals aren’t meant for the gray areas in between.

He tries to take things at face value, but trust isn’t a luxury they can afford. Sam all but gives it away sometimes, and she isn’t sure if it’s out of desperation or determination, but it’s not something she can understand either way. For Bela, trust is something that’s earned, and her bar is set so high that some may never reach it. She sits on her trust and her secrets like a dragon, not inclined to share because sharing it gives that person power over her, and she won’t be in that place again. Not after everything she lost to get out from under that last proverbial thumb.

Problem is, Bela loves Sam. How and when and why this happened is yet to be seen, but she does. He has more power over her than he’ll ever realize, and more than he’d ever use. That’s part of the reason why she loves him, even if he’ll never know it.

Because she loves Sam, the first tether to something real that she’s had in a long time, she does things she wouldn’t normally do. Takes risks she wouldn’t normally take. Turn down jobs she wouldn’t normally turn down. She plays less fast and loose with her own life and the lives of others and opts for the good rather than the advantage. Because she loves Sam, she finds herself thinking about the right thing to do, rather than weighing for the beneficial option.

Because she loves Sam, when he arrives at her door looking like he doesn’t know who to trust, and the world is making it too hard for him to find that right road again, she gives him something he can trust.

It’s a little ironic, but for some reason they both sleep better. The irony isn’t entirely lost on them, but then again, they’ve always been the type where it never really was.

516 words

The feeling of dirt is caught in her throat and everything is hazy. She isn't entirely sure how she got where she is, but everything hurts in a way that usually comes with blow to the head. Not that she's had many in her lifetime, but once is enough really. One hand presses against her forehead, as though that will help clear some of the memories from how she got there in the first place, but so far it's just a blur.

It's not right. None of this is right.

There's something glowing and beeping ahead of her, but she can't focus on that. Her eyes fall on the plaid shirt next to her and then follows it up to his face. She moves forward, one hand reaching for his shoulder and starting to shake him gently.

"Dean. Dean, wake up." Please don't be dead.

more placeholdering.