Nic (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
trillianastra) wrote2010-08-20 10:17 pm
trillianastra) wrote2010-08-20 10:17 pm
FIC: I live in this country now [Supernatural/The Stand]
Title: I live in this country now
Fandoms: Supernatural/The Stand
Characters/Pairings: Sam Winchester/Nick Andros, Tom Cullen
Rating: PG-13.
Spoilers: none for Supernatural. Nothing major for The Stand.
Disclaimer: Supernatural is Kripke's, The Stand is King's, I'm just playing with their toys.
Prompt: "SPN/The Stand, Sam/Nick, Tom sees the demon taint in Sam, Nick sees how he tries to overcome it." (at comment_fic)
Summary: Nick and Tom find Sam Winchester unconscious in a deserted town - and he doesn't know how he got there.
A/N: Another comment_fic fill that ran away with me... ah well. I actually rather like this pairing, considering that it hadn't even occurred to me before today. Also, mute characters are hard to write.
~~
They found him lying on the floor of a convenience store, in a small Iowa town that had long been deserted. Nick wasn't sure what the name of the town was – they'd been through so many that he was starting to lose count.
Tom looked down at the young man, a frown on his childlike face. That was worrying. Nick had seen Tom happy, overjoyed, sad, tired, crotchety, hungry, and he knew how to deal with all of that. Things that made Tom frown didn't really come along that often.
He touched Tom's sleeve to get his attention, and looked questioningly at the man, then back at Tom.
Tom just shrugged. “He's not right.”
Nick sighed, and made a 'carry on' gesture, trying to look encouraging.
“Don't really know the words. He's... dirty. There's something dirty about him. Something bad.”
Nick rolled his eyes, and pointed at the small heap of their belongings, where Tom's garage was. As he wandered off to amuse himself, Nick turned his attention to the unconscious man, checking his pulse and breathing. He seemed to be alive, at least, and there were no obvious wounds that Nick could find.
He was looking around the store for supplies – hoping that there might at least be some bottled water left – when he heard the man cough and turned back.
The man – quite young, maybe the same age as Nick – coughed again. “Where am I?” he said.
Nick grabbed his notebook and wrote quickly, STORE, IOWA. WHAT'S YOUR NAME?
The man frowned. “Sam. Why...” he started to say, then he noticed Nick watching his lips, and said, “You're deaf?”
Nick nodded, and wrote, DEAF-MUTE. I LIP-READ. ARE YOU HURT?
Sam smiled faintly. “I don't think so. Are you alone?”
Nick shook his head, and pointed in Tom's direction, then wrote, TOM. HE'S... Nick paused, trying to think of the words, and eventually wrote, HAS LEARNING PROBS, and shrugged.
Sam nodded. “What about you?”
NICK ANDROS, he wrote.
“Nice to meet you, Nick.”
Nick smiled, and wondered about what Tom had said.
Sam got to his feet, and Nick explained – with gestures – that he was checking the store for supplies. Sam nodded and helped him look.
(Nick was taken aback for a moment when Sam stood up, because he was so tall. But, hey, now there was another person around to carry things, so he wasn't complaining.)
They didn't find much in the store – some water, some very flat soda, some boxes of crackers and a few tins. Sam bundled them all into a bag he found, and as Nick watched he realised that whatever Sam had done before, he was used to living like this (well, not like this exactly, but it was clear that the idea of living off whatever you found and just making do was not new to Sam).
Sam stayed with them, because, as he explained to Nick with a sheepish expression, he didn't have anywhere else to go. And besides, they hadn't found any of his belongings in the store – however he'd got there, he hadn't had time to take much with him.
Sam didn't know how he got to that store. He told Nick that the last thing he remembered was a feeling of falling. He said he had a brother, somewhere, that he wanted to find, but he had no idea where to look.
“You've been around a bit, haven't you Nick?” he said.
Nick nodded.
“Have you... did you ever meet someone called Dean? Dean Winchester?”
Nick shook his head. He wrote, WINCHESTER? LIKE THE RIFLE?
Sam read it and laughed. “Yeah, like the rifle.” The smile faded quickly from his face. “Did you, though? Seriously?”
Nick wrote, NO. WHERE DID YOU LIVE? He paused and added, BEFORE.
“All over. We used to travel around a lot. You know much about cars?”
Nick shrugged. Sam interpreted that as 'not much'. “Well, if you ever see a black Chevy Impala, let me know, yeah?”
Sam looked hopeful. Nick made the A-OK sign and smiled, but he was afraid that Sam wouldn't find his brother – or worse, that he'd find his brother lying dead somewhere.
They keep moving. Sam and Nick talk, in an awkward kind of way, with gestures and words and sign-language. Sam tells Nick about his brother. Nick helps him piece together his missing memory. There is still a sizeable chunk missing, but Sam seems more secure now, if not happier.
Sam does not know about the plague. This comes up quickly, when they are walking past the shell of a car with a rotting corpse in the driver's seat. It's the fifth car they've passed that day, and Sam asks, in a very businesslike way, what happened. (Nick wonders, still, what it was that Sam and his brother did together. None of it seems to make sense.)
When Nick realises that Sam really, genuinely, has no idea what happened, he rubs a hand over his face and sighs. Then he takes his pencil and paper and writes, PLAGUE. THOUGHT IT WAS THE FLU. PEOPLE STARTED DYING. Then he gestured around himself, trying to say 'and this is what's left'. He looked at Sam, pleading with him to understand.
Sam asks, “What about the people?”
NOT MANY LEFT, Nick writes. SORRY.
“It's not your fault.”
Neither of them mentions Sam's brother. The day before, Sam had been trying to remember places where his brother might go: Sioux Falls, Cicero, Blue Earth, Lawrence. Now all Sam can think is what happened to Dean. He doesn't say anything. Nick can read his concern all over his face. He reaches over and puts a comforting hand on Sam's shoulder, and tries to convey the fact that he's there, that if Sam wants to talk, he can.
Sam understands, and lets him know with a quick glance and a squeeze of his hand.
They keep moving. Tom does not like Sam, and makes this clear, though he can't or won't articulate why. He only repeats what he told Nick in the store: Sam is dirty, Sam is 'something bad'. Tom doesn't like walking next to Sam, and at first he tries to stop Nick from doing so either, until they convince him that Nick is in no danger.
Sam is unsettled by Tom's dislike. He admits to Nick that he thinks he knows why Tom reacts the way he does, though he doesn't know how it's possible. He says, “Do you believe in demons?”
Nick raises an eyebrow. At his expression, a ghost of a smile crosses Sam's face, and he starts to explain. Nick listens carefully, nodding occasionally, until Sam is done. Then he thinks for a moment and writes, I HAVE AN IDEA and brings Tom over.
It takes a long time, negotiating between Nick's mutism and Tom's own difficulties (which makes Sam marvel at the fact that they had managed to communicate at all until now), but eventually Nick is able to convince Tom that Sam is only 'dirty' because he was around dirty things, and now he just needed to be around nice things to get 'clean' again.
Tom frowned, and thought about that. After a long time, he nodded solemnly. “I guess he's okay, then. He can stay.”
Nick grinned, and gave Tom a thumbs-up. Then Tom went back to walking a little distance away, leaving them alone.
“Thanks,” Sam said. “I don't know how you did that.”
Nick shrugged, his eyes saying 'it's nothing'.
“No, it's not.”
That night, they find an empty motel with a couple of rooms that are still habitable. Tom claims one room for himself. Sam and Nick check out the second, where they find a couple of mattresses and not much else. It feels like heaven to them. When they get ready to sleep, after making sure that Tom is all right, they push the mattresses together and lie down in their clothes, exhausted.
Sam turns his head, and says, “Thanks, Nick. I don't know what I'd have done if you hadn't found me.”
Nick smiles, as if to say, 'don't worry about it'.
“I mean it, thank you. You don't know how much this means to me.”
Nick reached out and squeezed his hand. Then, he took Sam by surprise when he shifted across and kissed him, quickly and softly, on the cheek. Shortly afterwards they fell asleep, curled up together on the mattress.
Fandoms: Supernatural/The Stand
Characters/Pairings: Sam Winchester/Nick Andros, Tom Cullen
Rating: PG-13.
Spoilers: none for Supernatural. Nothing major for The Stand.
Disclaimer: Supernatural is Kripke's, The Stand is King's, I'm just playing with their toys.
Prompt: "SPN/The Stand, Sam/Nick, Tom sees the demon taint in Sam, Nick sees how he tries to overcome it." (at comment_fic)
Summary: Nick and Tom find Sam Winchester unconscious in a deserted town - and he doesn't know how he got there.
A/N: Another comment_fic fill that ran away with me... ah well. I actually rather like this pairing, considering that it hadn't even occurred to me before today. Also, mute characters are hard to write.
~~
They found him lying on the floor of a convenience store, in a small Iowa town that had long been deserted. Nick wasn't sure what the name of the town was – they'd been through so many that he was starting to lose count.
Tom looked down at the young man, a frown on his childlike face. That was worrying. Nick had seen Tom happy, overjoyed, sad, tired, crotchety, hungry, and he knew how to deal with all of that. Things that made Tom frown didn't really come along that often.
He touched Tom's sleeve to get his attention, and looked questioningly at the man, then back at Tom.
Tom just shrugged. “He's not right.”
Nick sighed, and made a 'carry on' gesture, trying to look encouraging.
“Don't really know the words. He's... dirty. There's something dirty about him. Something bad.”
Nick rolled his eyes, and pointed at the small heap of their belongings, where Tom's garage was. As he wandered off to amuse himself, Nick turned his attention to the unconscious man, checking his pulse and breathing. He seemed to be alive, at least, and there were no obvious wounds that Nick could find.
He was looking around the store for supplies – hoping that there might at least be some bottled water left – when he heard the man cough and turned back.
The man – quite young, maybe the same age as Nick – coughed again. “Where am I?” he said.
Nick grabbed his notebook and wrote quickly, STORE, IOWA. WHAT'S YOUR NAME?
The man frowned. “Sam. Why...” he started to say, then he noticed Nick watching his lips, and said, “You're deaf?”
Nick nodded, and wrote, DEAF-MUTE. I LIP-READ. ARE YOU HURT?
Sam smiled faintly. “I don't think so. Are you alone?”
Nick shook his head, and pointed in Tom's direction, then wrote, TOM. HE'S... Nick paused, trying to think of the words, and eventually wrote, HAS LEARNING PROBS, and shrugged.
Sam nodded. “What about you?”
NICK ANDROS, he wrote.
“Nice to meet you, Nick.”
Nick smiled, and wondered about what Tom had said.
Sam got to his feet, and Nick explained – with gestures – that he was checking the store for supplies. Sam nodded and helped him look.
(Nick was taken aback for a moment when Sam stood up, because he was so tall. But, hey, now there was another person around to carry things, so he wasn't complaining.)
They didn't find much in the store – some water, some very flat soda, some boxes of crackers and a few tins. Sam bundled them all into a bag he found, and as Nick watched he realised that whatever Sam had done before, he was used to living like this (well, not like this exactly, but it was clear that the idea of living off whatever you found and just making do was not new to Sam).
Sam stayed with them, because, as he explained to Nick with a sheepish expression, he didn't have anywhere else to go. And besides, they hadn't found any of his belongings in the store – however he'd got there, he hadn't had time to take much with him.
Sam didn't know how he got to that store. He told Nick that the last thing he remembered was a feeling of falling. He said he had a brother, somewhere, that he wanted to find, but he had no idea where to look.
“You've been around a bit, haven't you Nick?” he said.
Nick nodded.
“Have you... did you ever meet someone called Dean? Dean Winchester?”
Nick shook his head. He wrote, WINCHESTER? LIKE THE RIFLE?
Sam read it and laughed. “Yeah, like the rifle.” The smile faded quickly from his face. “Did you, though? Seriously?”
Nick wrote, NO. WHERE DID YOU LIVE? He paused and added, BEFORE.
“All over. We used to travel around a lot. You know much about cars?”
Nick shrugged. Sam interpreted that as 'not much'. “Well, if you ever see a black Chevy Impala, let me know, yeah?”
Sam looked hopeful. Nick made the A-OK sign and smiled, but he was afraid that Sam wouldn't find his brother – or worse, that he'd find his brother lying dead somewhere.
They keep moving. Sam and Nick talk, in an awkward kind of way, with gestures and words and sign-language. Sam tells Nick about his brother. Nick helps him piece together his missing memory. There is still a sizeable chunk missing, but Sam seems more secure now, if not happier.
Sam does not know about the plague. This comes up quickly, when they are walking past the shell of a car with a rotting corpse in the driver's seat. It's the fifth car they've passed that day, and Sam asks, in a very businesslike way, what happened. (Nick wonders, still, what it was that Sam and his brother did together. None of it seems to make sense.)
When Nick realises that Sam really, genuinely, has no idea what happened, he rubs a hand over his face and sighs. Then he takes his pencil and paper and writes, PLAGUE. THOUGHT IT WAS THE FLU. PEOPLE STARTED DYING. Then he gestured around himself, trying to say 'and this is what's left'. He looked at Sam, pleading with him to understand.
Sam asks, “What about the people?”
NOT MANY LEFT, Nick writes. SORRY.
“It's not your fault.”
Neither of them mentions Sam's brother. The day before, Sam had been trying to remember places where his brother might go: Sioux Falls, Cicero, Blue Earth, Lawrence. Now all Sam can think is what happened to Dean. He doesn't say anything. Nick can read his concern all over his face. He reaches over and puts a comforting hand on Sam's shoulder, and tries to convey the fact that he's there, that if Sam wants to talk, he can.
Sam understands, and lets him know with a quick glance and a squeeze of his hand.
They keep moving. Tom does not like Sam, and makes this clear, though he can't or won't articulate why. He only repeats what he told Nick in the store: Sam is dirty, Sam is 'something bad'. Tom doesn't like walking next to Sam, and at first he tries to stop Nick from doing so either, until they convince him that Nick is in no danger.
Sam is unsettled by Tom's dislike. He admits to Nick that he thinks he knows why Tom reacts the way he does, though he doesn't know how it's possible. He says, “Do you believe in demons?”
Nick raises an eyebrow. At his expression, a ghost of a smile crosses Sam's face, and he starts to explain. Nick listens carefully, nodding occasionally, until Sam is done. Then he thinks for a moment and writes, I HAVE AN IDEA and brings Tom over.
It takes a long time, negotiating between Nick's mutism and Tom's own difficulties (which makes Sam marvel at the fact that they had managed to communicate at all until now), but eventually Nick is able to convince Tom that Sam is only 'dirty' because he was around dirty things, and now he just needed to be around nice things to get 'clean' again.
Tom frowned, and thought about that. After a long time, he nodded solemnly. “I guess he's okay, then. He can stay.”
Nick grinned, and gave Tom a thumbs-up. Then Tom went back to walking a little distance away, leaving them alone.
“Thanks,” Sam said. “I don't know how you did that.”
Nick shrugged, his eyes saying 'it's nothing'.
“No, it's not.”
That night, they find an empty motel with a couple of rooms that are still habitable. Tom claims one room for himself. Sam and Nick check out the second, where they find a couple of mattresses and not much else. It feels like heaven to them. When they get ready to sleep, after making sure that Tom is all right, they push the mattresses together and lie down in their clothes, exhausted.
Sam turns his head, and says, “Thanks, Nick. I don't know what I'd have done if you hadn't found me.”
Nick smiles, as if to say, 'don't worry about it'.
“I mean it, thank you. You don't know how much this means to me.”
Nick reached out and squeezed his hand. Then, he took Sam by surprise when he shifted across and kissed him, quickly and softly, on the cheek. Shortly afterwards they fell asleep, curled up together on the mattress.