Random, Demented Ramblings

Smart!Dean fic, 4/?

2009-06-09T03:32:22Z

Chapter: 4/?
Word count: ~1500
A/N: This particular story is coming to an end, with only one or two more chapters after this, probably. There will be timestamps, but I'm not very good at writing one long fic. I spend too much time writing short, concise lab reports to be able to switch into long-fic mode. This chapter got away from me though, so it's possible that things will drag out longer.

Chapter Four

Sam was running out of things to do in Los Alamos. Dean was constantly in the lab—either at work or in his home lab—so staying at the house meant risking alone time with Eliot. Sam was not feeling brave enough for that yet. He suspected he and Eliot would never be buddies. Currently, they tolerated each other for Dean's sake, but Sam was worried the fragile truce might break if they were exposed to each other for too long. The problem was that there wasn't much to do in town. He'd checked first thing for any possible cases, but it seemed like someone—he suspected Dean—had taken care of anything supernatural in the town. He'd mostly sat in the library, trying to do research on any future cases Dad might send him.

Sam was pulling up to the curb in front of the house when Dean came walking out. “Eliot said I had to see your car—” he stopped and stared. “A bug? Really, Sam? Who's brother are you, anyway? You sure aren't mine.”

“It's not that bad,” Sam defended his car. “It gets better mileage than the Impala, which is important with all the running around I do—and it has plenty of room in the trunk for all the necessary weapons. We're not all obsessed with classic muscle cars like you.”

“Still, Sammy,” Dean shook his head. “Bobby couldn't find you anything better than a vintage bug? You're killing me. It's not even American.”

“Well, what does Eliot drive?” Sam asked defensively.

“Eliot drives a cop car and his motorcycle. And sometimes he gets pulled for mounted cop duty. Still way ahead of you on the coolness scale, dude.”

“Fine, fine. So my car sucks. Can we get back to the important stuff now?”

Dean's face fell slightly. “Sure. Come inside in case Eliot has to translate the physics terms for you.”

Sam felt insulted. “I could have gone to college. I'm not dumb, Dean.”

“No, but you've never seen me in high physics geekery, either. Eliot has. He's good at translating for people without a doctorate in physics. Just hear us out, okay?”

Sam sighed and followed his brother into the house. “Fine.”

When they were all gathered in the living room, Dean started to explain what he had come up with. “I haven't figured out a way to make a one-shot weapon yet. What I have now is in two pieces, and you're going to want to test it out on a lesser demon first. And it's not a miracle weapon, you're going to have to do some work to get to the point where you can use it.”

“How much work are we talking about, here?” Sam asked him suspiciously.

“Less work than it would be to try and get rid of a demon without this weapon, I'm sure,” Eliot told him. “Dean just doesn't believe in push-button miracle weapons.”

Sam grimaced. A “push-button miracle weapon,” as Eliot put, was what he'd been hoping for.

“I don't believe in turning war into a video game,” Dean said softly. “You're going to have get the demon to discorporate into its smoke form, then set off the gas bomb. It'll trap the demon in that form, and sort of bind it together into a cohesive mass, enabling the second part of the weapon to work on it. That one's a grenade sized bomb of...I guess you could call it sanctified nuclear energy. It operates on a conflicting wavelength with demonic energy, and the conflicting energy waves sort of...tear the demon apart.”

“What he means,” Eliot spoke up again, “is that this is sort of the nuclear energy equivalent of holy water. It won't really harm humans, but it's deadly to any being that operates on the same type of energy as demons. Might work on ghosts, too, but Dean hasn't studied their energy enough to know for sure. Be easier to do things like this is you hunters believed a bit more in letting your kids go to college and work in the real world for a while, then there'd be more of you with scientific educations. Could help.”

Sam bristled. “Hunting doesn't exactly go hand-in-hand with normal lives, it's a bit difficult to hold down a normal job and hunt supernatural creatures all over the country.”

“Never said it was,” Eliot replied mildly. “But it never hurts to have expert consultants available to you, and if there were more people like Dean out there, you could actually have small businesses, such as weapons manufacturers, catering to hunters.”

“It's something he and I have talked about a lot with Bobby, Sam,” Dean broke in. “Most hunters' kids that get out of the lifestyle and go to college tend to be like me. We're pretty much exiled from the community and that doesn't exactly motivate us to go out of our way to help hunters. We might know enough about the supernatural to realize that there's a menace out there, and something needs to be done about it, but we don't have warm and fuzzy feelings towards the people who are taking action. A lot more could be accomplished if there were people with hunting knowledge on the right side of the law. Think how nice it would be if police departments had special units that were actually equipped to handle the supernatural.”

“Los Alamos is fairly small, but we've been working on unofficially setting something like that up within the department ever since Dean told me about this stuff. Native tribes tend to be pretty aware of it, too, but they don't really have huge political clout.”

Sam shook his head. “Maybe you guys have some good ideas, but there's no way it'll ever happen.”

“Change has to start in the hunting community and work outwards,” Dean told him. “That's the only way it can work.”

“And the hunting community is full of hidebound old bastards,” Eliot stated.

“This is too revolutionary for me,” Sam told them. “Can you just show me the weapon?”

“Sure,” Dean stood up. “Just come out to the lab with me.”

When they got there, Dean pointed Sam to a large black case. “I only made a prototype. You'll have to test it out, and let me know if it works as expected. If it does, I'll make some more, and you can come back and get them. If not, it'll be back to the drawing board for me, and I'll let you know when I have something else to try out.”

Sam hefted the case. “Thanks, Dean.”

As he watched his brother load the unassuming black case into the trunk of the bug, Dean spoke up again. “Does John have you rushing off on a case right away?”

“No...” Sam replied, puzzled. “I probably have a few days before he starts asking me where I am.”

Dean shrugged. “Eliot suggested...now that I'm not locking myself in the lab all day, I should spend some time with you. I haven't seen you in years, and we haven't really had many conversations while you've been here. I tend to get pretty wrapped up in my projects, and I've been kind of ignoring you, leaving you to entertain yourself.”

Sam looked at him. His brother—and Eliot too, it seemed—was trying. “I could stick around for another couple days, I guess.”

Dean grinned, relieved. “Good. Eliot suggested we take you out on horseback, show you the area a little more.”

“Uh...horseback? Like, real horses?”

“Yep. Eliot taught me, when we met. Now we have a few of them, out back in the pasture. I'm surprised you didn't notice. It's really the only way to get around here.”

Sam shrugs, surprised by yet more changes his brother has gone through. “I sam 'em, just assumed they were the neighbor's, or something. Didn't think you went in for mustangs of the horse variety.”

“Well, Eliot was pretty into it, and he's really good with horses, so he convinced me to go with him one time, on a trail ride around the desert, and I came out of it a convert.”

“Just like that?”

Dean's smirk was wicked. “Well, there may have been some other persuading involved, but I don't think it's something I should be sharing with my baby brother. But it means we have our own horses now, with an extra for friends to use. Most people around here have horses too, though, so Rifle only really gets used by Bobby, or when Eliot doesn't want to use his own horse for mounted duty. He's bombproof, Sam, don't worry.”

“Fine. I will try this horseback thing you're so gung-ho about. But I reserve the right to hate it.”

“All I'm asking is for you to give things a chance, Sam.”

smart!Dean fic, 3/?

2009-05-29T05:29:14Z

Smart!Dean, chapter 3
Word Count: ~1600
A/N: The chapter where Eliot finally meets Sam. Everyone who thought that Eliot would be uber protective and hate Sam was right.

Chapter Three:

Eliot Smith was shorter than Sam, but he seemed larger. The man was, in a word, intimidating.

“Hey, babe.” Dean pranced—there really was no other word for it—up to the man for a kiss.

“Hey.” He looked at Sam suspiciously. “Who's this?”

“He's my brother, Sammy.”

“So, he finally decided to pull his head out of his ass and come see you?” Eliot glared at Sam. “Sure you want him here, Dean?”

Dean shrugged. “I'm hearing what he has to say. And if I can get over it, you certainly can.”

His partner grimaced. “Yeah, well, you're too quick to forgive people sometimes.”

Dean laid a hand on his arm. “Just—wait a little bit before you make up your mind? Please?”

Sam watched all of it in worried fascination. Eliot had the power to kick him out of here. And if he did, he wouldn't do it gently.

Eliot glared at Sam for a few more seconds before acquiescing to Dean's wishes. “Fine. But I reserve the right to decide that he doesn't belong anywhere near you.”

Dean grinned. “If you insist. Now that your protective streak is satisfied, I have burgers to grill. Either sit down and make nice with Sammy, or come help me in the kitchen.”

“I'll be there in a few minutes,” Eliot told him. Sam didn't want to admit how nervous he was about being in a room alone with his brother's very scary lover. Things were moving just a bit too fast for his liking.

As soon as Dean left the room, Eliot looked straight at Sam, and removed his gun from the holster. “Let me make this clear to you. I don't like you. I don't like your dad, and anybody in your little 'hunting community.' I like Bobby, but the rest of you can get can eaten by demons for all I care. If John Winchester comes here, I'll shoot him as soon as he steps onto the property. If you hurt Dean at all, I will kill you. I'm a cop, I think I could get away with it. And even if I didn't, it might be worth going to jail for. Understand?”

Sam gulped. He might be taller, but his brother's lover was scary. “Understood. I won't hurt him intentionally, I swear.”

“Good. Now, I'm going to help Dean in the kitchen. You can stay out here, Dean won't let me contaminate your food.” Eliot turned and walked away.

Not satisfied with this, Sam crept around looking for a spot to eavesdrop from. Finding that the walls were fairly thin in the house, he looked for a room that shared a wall with the kitchen. He knelt and pressed his ear against the wall.

“I don't like it, Dean,” Eliot's voice came through. “I know how much you've wanted to have your family back, but I've also heard from Bobby and Jack how messed up you were right after the argument. I don't want to have to pick up the pieces because he broke you. I prefer you whole and happy.”

There was a muted sound, then “I know, babe. But the reason Sam's here is because they need a weapon. Nothing normal can stop the really powerful demons. I feel like I have to do this, to make up for leaving the job behind when I was younger. I mean, I know demons are out there, I should be doing something to stop them, right? So the least I can do is make this weapon. There's nobody out there with my knowledge of demons and weapons development.”

“Damn. Alright, I see why you feel you have to do this. I know you need to try to create a weapon, and I guess I can forgive Bobby for sending Sam here. But just because I understand why he's here, doesn't mean I want John showing up anytime soon. I don't want you having any contact with that man. He has far too much knowledge of how to hurt you, emotionally, and I hate seeing you hurt. I hate anyone that makes you hurt, which means I hate your whole family sometimes.”

“I know. But you can't protect me from everything...and I'm going to have to deal with my family issues sometime. I might as well do it now, when I'm secure in my life, and I know you'll always be there to back me up. I already told Sam I didn't want any contact with John, by the way.”

“So you can be cautious when it comes to your family. I love you, and I hate seeing you get hurt, darling. I kind of wish your brother had never come here. I like our peaceful life. I'd almost forgotten about all this supernatural stuff.”

“Me too. I'm going to try and finish this as fast as I can. Much as I love my brother, I preferred not having to deal with all the issues from my dysfunctional family. I want to just go back to my lab, and you, and occasionally seeing Bobby.”

“I'll always be here when you need to unwind, darling.”

“I know. It's one of the many reasons I love you.” Sam, listening in, didn't hear anything for a few moments, then “pretty sure Sam will be suspicious if we stay in here any longer. It doesn't take that much time to grill burgers and make a salad.”

There was a sigh. “Time to face the music, I guess.” Sam crept away from the room before they could emerge and find him eavesdropping.

Soon Dean appeared in the doorway before him. “Sam? Food's ready. We just eat in the kitchen. We're not terribly formal here. We don't have a dining room, or breakfast nook, or whatever. Call it rebelling against society's expectations for gay couples.”

Sam grinned. “Have you ever conformed to society's expectations?”

“Nope. And neither has Eliot. Why should we change that just because we're sleeping together?”

The conversation was a bit stilted as they sat around the table. Eliot was trying, but it was clear he resented Sam's presence in their peaceful life. And Sam couldn't forget the conversation he'd overheard. Finally he managed to find a safe topic of conversation. “So, I got the impression from Bobby that he sees you guys pretty often. How'd that even happen, anyway?”

Eliot grinned. “Bobby's awesome. I don't know why he's associating with the rest of that bigoted bunch.”

“Eliot,” Dean sighed. “You're probably better off asking Bobby about his reasoning, Sam, but I can tell you what I know. Bobby knew I was considering college. I'd told him I wanted to go, if I could get a scholarship. He encouraged me, but he knew I'd probably be leaving. So he wasn't all that shocked when I said I was going to MIT. And I think, maybe, he had an inkling that I might be gay. Anyway, he was pissed as hell at the way everyone else reacted, and he knew I'd probably do something stupid if was cut off from everything and everyone I'd ever known, so he made me give him my contact information at MIT, right before I took off. He called me at least once a week back then, and he made me go to South Dakota and spend Christmas with him. By the time I graduated, we'd gotten into a routine. I went to Berkeley for grad school, and he figured I would be a little more settled and more comfortable there, so he started coming to visit me there. Then when I finished my Ph.D and came out here, met Eliot and all that, he'd gotten used to getting together for major holidays. Of course, when he realized my relationship with Eliot was serious, he came out here strictly for the purpose of meeting Eliot and giving him holy water. Bobby's really more of a father to me than John is by now, and I think he knows it.”

“So all this time you've been visiting Bobby, and he's been visiting you, and the rest of us never ran into you?”

Eliot broke in. “Bobby's pretty protective of Dean. I'm pretty sure he arranged it all so there was no chance of Dean seeing anybody who might upset him.”

“I can't believe Bobby actually likes Eliot.” Sam shook his head. “He's normally so suspicious.”

Eliot grinned. “He was suspicious, believe me. But he told me once that Dean looked happier with me than he had in a long time before I came into the picture. And Bobby knows that someone has to be here to ground Dean. He gets so wrapped up in his physics world that he forgets the outside world exists. If he's really wrapped up in a project, he won't eat or sleep until it's finished. My job is to pull him out of the lab once in a while and make him take care of his body's needs.”

“I have a cot in the lab,” Dean growled.

“Yeah, but you never use it for more than a short nap. You'd never get a full night's sleep if I wasn't here to drag you out of there.”

Sam watched the interaction with thoughtful eyes. As much as he resented someone else's presence in his brother's life, he realized that he hadn't been in that life for years, and he was glad Eliot had stepped in. The man seemed to truly love Dean, even more than he disliked Sam.

SFTAMB 2/?

2009-05-22T06:37:11Z

Supernatural fic, chapter two
Word Count: ~1700
A/N: So, panicky!nervous!Sam was pretty interesting to write, so I kept getting stuck in the beginning of the chapter. Once I got into physics talk, all was well. Visiting the websites of Oak Ridge National Laboratory and Los Alamos National Laboratory might help answer any physics questions you have at the end of the chapter.

Chapter Two
Sam barely stopped to sleep on the drive to New Mexico, worried that if he delayed too long, Dean would somehow find out he was coming, and disappear on him. After more than ten years without his brother, he wasn't going to chance losing him again. In addition, the frantic pace didn't leave him too much time to worry about what he was going to do when he finally saw Dean, or how Dean would react to his little brother showing up on his doorstep. After consultation with Bobby, they had realized that there was no way Sam would be able to get in to see Dean at his work, as none of the fake government IDs they had would give Sam the sort of security clearance he needed to get anywhere near the science labs.
    Half an hour out from Dean's house, Sam started panicking. What did he say to a brother that he'd thought was dead? He refused to even think about what he was going to say to their father when he saw him again. He couldn't believe the man had let him think that his brother was dead for all these years.
    Finally Sam's panicking took him to a long, low, adobe rambler outside town. From the road, he could just see another structure out behind the house. Before he could have another fit of nerves, he jumped out of the car and strode up to the door, knocking loudly.
    The man who answered the door was a few inches shorter than him, with green eyes and slightly spiky blond hair. “Who—Sammy?” He looked startled, as if he couldn't quite believe what his eyes were telling him.
    Before he could stop himself, Sam's fist was swinging into the man's face, carrying with it all his pent-up frustration. “Why the hell didn't you ever write and let me know you were still alive?”
    “Well, I guess that confirms that it really is Sam Winchester on my doorstep,” Dean muttered, holding his nose. He looked around. “If we're going to keep yelling at each other, why don't we head inside, so we're not giving a free show.” He prodded his nose. “I don't think it's broken, at least. Be tough to explain at the lab. The life of a scientist does not usually lead to broken noses.”
    Sam followed his brother into an airy living room filled with overstuffed couches and chairs. “Fewer things in here to throw than in my study,” Dean explained. “Now, sit down so I can do my own yelling.”
  Sam sat, obedience to his older brother still somewhat ingrained in him from childhood. He feels bad about the punch, but it was necessary to get all his anger out, before he listened to what Dean has to say.
    “Good. Now, tell me, why the hell would I write to someone I thought hated me? Yeah, you weren't in the room when the shit went down, but everyone knew I'd 'abandoned' the family and the hunting community to go to MIT. It was pretty easy to get ahold of me if you wanted. Hell, Bobby managed just fine—I'm assuming he sent you, by the way. When I didn't hear a word from you, I figured you shared Dad's views on faggots who ditched their families to go to fancy schools. You weren't in the room, Sam. You don't understand how nasty he was to me. Why would I want to stay in touch with someone who hates me for a small part of who I am? A part I don't even have a choice in, which he doesn't seem to understand. You tell me why I should have written a letter that I figured would get torn up as soon as anyone saw the return address.”
“Dean—shit, Dean, I didn't know any of that. I don't know how I can make you believe this, but I honestly had no idea where you were. When I came home that night, and you weren't there, I just figured that you'd gone out with friends to celebrate or something. When you didn't show up at all the next day, I asked Dad. He said you'd ditched the family, ditched the job, as soon as you could, and run off. I never thought...I didn't know there'd been a fight. I never thought that maybe Bobby knew something we didn't. I never thought that Dad knew where you were, and he was keeping it from me. I swear, Dean, if I'd known what happened, I would have written.”
    Dean shifted uneasily. “I guess...I'm not all that surprised that Dad didn't tell you. He's the sort of close-minded bigot that believes gays are also pedophiles, and he wanted to 'protect' you from me or some shit like that. It's the Marine in him, I guess. But I figured...I mean, I knew everyone was upset with me, but I never thought they'd pretend I was dead, without even giving you the choice to reject me. And, to be fair, if anyone had rethought their position, they couldn't have known where I was after the first four years, when I was at MIT.”
    “So, we both made mistakes, but the majority of the blame rests on other people?” Sam offered.
  Dean let out a bark of laughter. “Yeah, that sounds good enough. Now, since you're here, I assume you finally talked to Bobby about me? I'm pretty sure he's the only one that knows what's going on in my life.”
    “About that...I didn't actually go to Bobby specifically about you. I was hoping he would have a contact that would be able to help me out, and he started telling me all about this guy he knew, who was a research physicist, and would probably help me, and it took him a long time to actually tell me the name. At which point I freaked out.”
    Dean grinned. “Yeah, I'm sure Bobby danced around the issue quite a bit. He knows I like my privacy, and that I don't really have much to do with hunting anymore. What did you need help on that made Bobby send you to me?”
    “We need a superweapon. We managed to get the demon that killed mom, but now...well, lots of demons are after us, because of that, but there's this one bitch—she won't stop until she destroys the world. So we need something that can destroy her.”
    “That's a challenge. So, we talking mini-warhead, or something more sophisticated? I'm not going to be able to work on this at the big lab, wouldn't exactly be able to explain it to my bosses. So, it's going to have to be something I can work up here. Now, I've got a pretty good lab set up out back, but I can't do anything really fancy there. And nothing with restricted materials. I'll take you out there so I can make some notes while you tell me about it.” He offered a hand to help Sam out of his seat.
    He led Sam through the house to a back door that opened out into an expanse of desert. Off to one side, Sam could see the nondescript building he'd noticed when he drove up. Off to the other side—“Dean, is that the Impala?”
Dean grinned. “Yeah. The one thing from my past that I held onto. I made some modifications to it though—I was playing with different fuel sources. I toyed with the idea of making it run off a miniature nuclear reactor, but I was reminded of the potentially deadly possibility of radioactive leakage. We have huge hydrogen tanks at the lab, though, so it runs off a modified hydrogen fuel cell now. Oak Ridge is almost at the point now, though, where they can make fusion plasma devices possible. I'm hoping to be able to run the car off of fusion power in another year or two.”
    Sam shook his head. “I...have no idea what you're talking about.”
    “Renewable energy for physics nerds, Sammy. We don't bother with gasoline/electric hybrids. Those are far too plebeian for us. A few of us talked about solar powered cars for a while, but those don't work so well when it rains.”
“This is all too crazy for me. How do you guys even get your hands on this stuff?”
    “That sort of energy research is what happens at National Labs. This is what we do for a living. It just takes a while for the technology to filter down to the public.” As they talked, Dean had been leading him towards the nondescript building. “And some of us—” He flung open the doors, “—have really good home physics labs.”
    “Holy shit...” Sam breathed. “I don't even know what most of this equipment is.”
“Yeah, well, you're not a physicist, little brother. But this is where I'll be trying to work on your little superweapon.” He turned to Sam with a serious look on his face. “I have one condition though.”
“Yeah?”
    “Don't try to make me reconcile with Dad. I refuse to have anything to do with that man. I don't want you to be plotting ways to make us come together, all that shit. I'm finally at peace with myself and my life, and I don't want Dad ruining it. There's a reason Bobby's so secretive about visiting me. You can tell him whatever you want, just don't mention the fact that it was Dean Winchester who helped you out. Got it?”
Sam sighed. “I don't like it, but yeah, I understand where you're coming from, and I won't talk to Dad about you.”
“Good. Then I think I can help you out. Let's head back to the house.”
    Outside again, Dean cocked his head as they heard the sound of a car pulling up by the house. “Um—Bobby did tell you about Eliot, didn't he?”
    “Yeah, a little bit. I mean, I know he exists, if that's what you're asking about.”
Dean heaved a sigh of relief. “Good, 'cause he's about to walk in the door.”

SFTAMB 1/?

2009-05-15T05:09:04Z

Title: Supernatural Fic That Ate My Brain
Chapter: 1/?
Rating: R
Wordcount: ~1600
Pairing: Dean/Eliot Spencer (this fic is not related to Leverage in any way, but Dean wanted a hot boyfriend).
Summary: When Dean graduates high school, he tells his family that he's gay, and that he's leaving to go to MIT on a full scholarship. Now he's estranged from his family, and a research scientist at Los Alamos National Laboratory, working on weapons development. Bobby was the only one to stand with Dean when the shit hit the fan. Now he's the only person from Dean's past that he still has contact with. When the Winchesters need a superweapon, Sam goes to Bobby for help. Bobby tells him he knows a guy...
A/N: This was inspired by Dayspring's Infragible Road, and various other smart!dean fics. I liked the idea of Dean being a researcher who got to blow shit up for a living so much that I wanted to write my own. But I wanted to see how it could have happened if Dean was estranged from the family for some reason. Sam and John have a better relationship, and Sam never went to Stanford, because he thought it would destroy John if he left. He and John hunt together, but most of the events up through Season Three have taken place.

Chapter One

   “Sam?” Bobby looked cautiously out the door at the young hunter standing on his porch. “I wasn't expecting you here so soon. Whatever you need my help with must be pretty serious then.”
   Sam sighed. “Yeah. It's not urgent, but Dad and I would feel a lot better if we could just make some sort of headway with it.”
   “Alright boy. Come on in and tell me what the problem is and why you think I can help you.”

   Sam dangled a beer between his hands as he sat on the worn couch. “I came to you mostly because of your contacts. I don't think you will actually be able to do what I'm asking, but I'm hoping you know someone who might.”
   “Spit it out boy, what do you need?”
   “A superweapon. Nothing Dad and I can do is enough to kill Lilith, and she's not gonna stop until she's dead. I don't have a clue as to how to make something that'll obliterate a demon like her.”
   Bobby let out an explosive sigh. “I...might know someone who can help. He's a physicist, he works in some sort of weapons development at Los Alamos national laboratory. I don't really know much more than that about what he does, it's all government-classified stuff. He told me it takes an insanely high security clearance in order for him to tell anyone. The most he was able to tell me once is that if he was born fifty or sixty years earlier he would have been one of the guys working on the Manhattan Project.”
   “The Manhattan Project? Those were the guys who created the atomic bomb, right?”
   “Yeah, that's the group. This guy's from a hunting family, so you won't have to be circumspect about telling him what you need.”
   “If he's from a hunting family, why's he working the government? Isn't that kind of a 180 from his family background?”
   “He always liked the blowing shit up part of it more than the hunting, and the hunter lifestyle. He just...found someplace that would let him further develop his talents in that area. As for working for the government, Sammy, there's not a lot of jobs in that area that don't involve the government of some country. And he had a bit of a falling out with his family about leaving. I've always thought it was some way of cutting himself off from them irrevocably.”
   “You sound like you know him pretty well. Is he your age?”
   “Nah. Closer to yours. But I'm the only member of his family to keep in touch with him after he left. Only hunter who still talks to him, really. So I get phone calls to keep me updated on his life, and I visit him every now and then, or he comes up here for holidays occasionally. He's a good guy.”
   “If he's such a good guy, why is he so completely cut off from everyone in the community?”
   “There was...quite the explosion right before he left. Day of his high school graduation he announced he was gay, had dated guys in quite a few towns that the family'd lived in. His dad didn't take the news too well. Didn't want a faggot in his house. So, that's when he announced he was leaving.”
   “Man. And I thought the Winchester family was dysfunctional.”
   Bobby chuckled a bit, confusing Sam. “He'd be interested to hear you say that.”
   “So what's his name? And how do I get ahold of him? He sounds like the perfect guy for this.”
   Bobby hesitated. “His name is...Dean. Dean Winchester.”
   “WHAT? You've known all this time where he was and you never told us?” Sam exploded up off the couch.
   “Calm down! Sam...how much do you remember about when Dean left?”
   “What do you mean? He just disappeared one day.”
   The older man grimaced. “You were still fairly young, and pretty absorbed in school then, so it doesn't surprise me that you weren't really around when the shit hit the fan. John knew exactly where Dean was, at least for the first four years. Dean told us all before he left.”
   “Wait, Dad knew? He told me Dean just ran off and abandoned us. Where was he?”
   “I guess from John's point of view, running off and abandoning the family was exactly what Dean was doing. He just didn't get that Dean wasn't completely wrapped up in hunting the way he was.” Bobby sighed. “Dean left to go to MIT. Full scholarship.”
   “I had no idea...How'd he get into MIT? Dean was never into academics. I didn't think he even took the SAT. I always thought he was Dad's perfect little hunter.”
   Bobby snorted. “Dean's brilliant in some areas. Sam, he started studying calculus his sophomore year. Perfect score on the math section of the SAT. His physics teachers loved him. He got glowing recommendations from them, apparently. Do you remember...he disappeared for about a week the summer he was seventeen?”
   “Yeah, I think so. It was some sort of solo hunt, right?”
   “That's what he pretended. No, he was actually at some sort of physics camp sponsored by NASA. I don't really know what it was about. But it takes some serious recommendations from physics teachers to even get invited to apply to the camp.”
   “Wow. He kept a lot of stuff from us then.”
   “Don't be too upset with him, Sammy. John was never impressed with the sorts of things Dean was experimenting with. He wanted instant gratification, and competence with the weapons he had. Didn't stop to think that the tinkering Dean was doing would help in the long run.”
   “So...is all that why Dad was so upset when I started looking into colleges?”
   “I think he was worried you were going to leave him the way Dean did. By now, I think John's repressed all the things he did that drove Dean into leaving.”
   “What do you mean? I can't remember Dad doing anything in particular to Dean.”
   “I think...it was a lot of small things that led Dean to believe an exit like the one he took might be necessary. He told me once that while he'd always planned on leaving, he'd hoped that he would have a family to come back to on breaks. But he had an idea that things probably wouldn't turn out like he was hoping.”
   “What...what happened?”
   “Right after graduation, there was a pretty big gathering of hunters at your place to celebrate, you were outside, playing with one of your friends or something, Dean announced he was gay. John...didn't take it very well. Said he wouldn't have a faggot in his house. Dean shot right back at him. Said that was fine, he was leaving anyway. Told everyone he'd accepted a full scholarship to MIT, and was going to road trip across the country to Boston. Rubbed your Dad's face in it by insinuating that he had plenty of ex-boyfriends to stay with along the way.”
   Sam sank back into the couch. “I'm thinking I may need a couple of days here to wrap my mind around this before I go charging after him.”
   “You're welcome to it, boy. I need to decide whether or not I'm going to warn Dean and Eliot about you.”
   “Eliot? Who's Eliot? What else aren't you telling me?”
   Bobby grinned. “Eliot's Dean's boyfriend. A really good guy. He's some sort of cop. I've met him a few times, they come up here for holidays occasionally. Like I said, I'm the only one from the past that Dean's still in contact with. Dean's been with Eliot a few years, it's pretty serious from what I can tell. Now that I've thought about it, I don't think I'll warn them. They'll probably find some reason to go out of town right before you get there.”
   “Sounds like he's managed to just replace his family, then.” Sam sounded hurt.
   “Dean? Nah. It's just him and Eliot. I've never heard anything about Eliot's family, whether he even has one. Dean hasn't replaced his family, but he's found someone to give him what John was never able to—unconditional love and approval. He wanted to have yours, but when you never contacted him after he left...well, he assumed you knew what happened, and that you felt the same way John did.”
   “I think I need to go to bed. This is all too much for me to process right now. Finding out Dean's alive, and well, and gay, in a serious relationship—it's just weird.”

   Sam sat at the kitchen table the next morning. Bobby was grilling sausages for them, and Sam was grilling Bobby. “So, what does Dean do, really? How did he get into this whole weapons development thing?”
   “Well, Dean's always enjoyed blowing shit up, you know that son. He went to MIT to study physics, and he was naturally drawn to that side of it. I've already told you as much as I know about the specifics of his job. He really can't tell anyone about. I do know one thing—he's good at what he does. Very good. I was visiting him once, right after the year's Nobel Prize nominations were announced, and he got drunk, and started telling me about how it's damned hard to get a Nobel when your work is so highly classified that there are only a few dozen people in the world who know what it is that you're researching.”
   “You think he means his work's good enough to win a Nobel, if people only knew about it?”
   Bobby nodded. “I do.”
   “Well, shit. Guess I'm not the smart one in the family anymore.”

peaches!

2007-08-21T23:25:00Z

I've been picking up windfall peaches all day, and finally decided to make a peach cobbler, and mix up the fruit for several more, to freeze. There doesn't seem to be anything else to do with windfall peaches, since they'll be half rotten and half green, requiring lots of cutting just to get some usable fruit. They're not good to just eat. However, I'm not going to protest having lots of cobbler on hand.
Also got new goats a couple days ago. It's my new job to tame and train them, as well as put up pasture fencing for them. The only thing more aggravating than stringing electric fence wire? Stringing electrified mesh fencing. The tangles are worse. I've been training Bramble (the one in the picture) on a leash, as she is enough of an escape artist that I need some measure of control over her. She's way too cute for her own good.

Whee! Meteors

2007-08-17T03:34:35Z

A few times a year I am reminded of one of the few benefits to living out in the middle of nowhere. These times happen to coincide with the Leonids, the Perseids, etc. The Perseids were supposed to peak on Sunday night, so I climbed up to the roof around 11 pm, only to have the sky completely cloud over about 15 minutes later. I sighed, and hoped the next night would be clear. It was. Around 10:00 I climbed up to the roof with a blanket, mp3 player, and a thermos full of chai. I stayed up there until my chai ran out, about an hour and a half later (hey, the thermos was stainless steel, so the chai stayed really hot, I had to drink it slowly). Meteor showers are absolutely gorgeous, and my only complaint with them is that the skies are rarely clear at night in November, when the Leonids come. By the time I climbed down from the roof and went to bed, as sleeping on rooftops is a Bad Idea, I had seen probably a dozen really spectacular meteors, and many more lesser ones. I only wish I had a camera with a fast enough shutter speed to capture them.

Harry Potter Movie

2007-07-22T01:21:23Z

Saw the 5th movie a few days ago and I don't have much to say about it except that it was slashy. They changed a lot from the book, but I can sort of forgive them, because they put so much slash into it. And slash of my favorite pairings: Remus/Sirius, Harry/Cedric, Harry/Snape. Although what was with all the Harry/Sirius? And YoungSnape? Love.

Taper

2007-07-18T23:52:26Z

See, the thing about having absolutely no life other than swimming is that when you go on taper, you have nothing to do. And I do have no life other than swimming. I even have a very nice little award that, while it is prestigious, signifies to the entire team that my life revolves around the pool. But Pacific Northwest Swimming Championships start a week from tomorrow, and I'm tapering for them. Instead of spending five hours a day at the pool, I now only spend about two and a half hours there. In addition, I'm not feeling the need to nap in between workouts, because I don't have doubles most days. I have this huge chunk of time in the middle of my day that I didn't used to have, and now I have no idea what to do with it. In addition, I'm getting really sick of carbs. I'm a distance swimmer, I know I have to carbo-load, but a chunk of grilled salmon would be nice. It's probably a good thing that it's rainy around here right now, because otherwise I'd be tempted to go outside and play in the sun, and that is strictly forbidden. If anyone in my training group gets any tanner over the next week, we'll be in trouble. Hell, if anything about us noticeably changes we're in trouble. One guy got in trouble for showing up all scraped up from falling off his skateboard. And, of course, if anyone shaves their legs before the 26th...I don't envy them.
Really, it's this whole cycle that makes swimmers somewhat...inbred (I don't know how else to put it). For the most part, swimmers only date other swimmers. It just doesn't work to have it any other way. We go to bed early, because we have to get up for morning workouts. We only shave our legs three or four times a year, and then everybody, including the guys, do it. In addition, there's the small problem of everyone acting gay, even if they're straight. This confuses almost everyone, which is amusing at first, but then when you're actually trying to get someone interested in you it can get difficult. So, for the sake of swimmers everywhere, please don't assume that we're all gay just because we act like. Probably only about a quarter of the people in my training group are actually gay. Everyone else is quite happy to hook up with the opposite sex. Just because the boys play grab-ass in the locker room doesn't mean that they won't date a girl (don't ask me how this works). However, even I can get somewhat overwhelmed by all the gayness. Seeing M draped over K on the walk down to the outdoor pool is not what I need at 7:30 in the morning. Neither is seeing M hump anyone on the wall while I'm trying to warm-up. The leather speedos are...amusing, but the trend is starting to get out of hand. We don't need all the boys in the training group to have matching ones. And by the way, it isn't a contest to see who can squeeze their ass into the smallest suit. When it starts to look like a thong, go no further.

swimmers

2007-07-09T03:32:48Z

Swimmers are very strange people. I write this having gone an entire 48 hours isolated from the swim team. Very strange situation for me to be in, since a couple of weeks ago I went 60 straight hours surrounded only by swimmers. Now, the thing that most people don't understand about swimmers is that we're not actually all gay. We just act like it. Example: The Man Cave, at a meet a few days ago. A canopy was lowered, and towels were hung all around its sides, to make a cozy 10x10 tent that no girls were allowed inside. Or there's the sudden outbreak of leather speedos. Or underwear parties. Or the extreme popularity of lap tag, although there's a lot more violence than sex in that game. Every time we play, we leave blood on the carpet.
But you know, there is a fairly high number of gay swimmers on my team. Well, most of them just don't care what gender a person is, they just want someone. On the above mentioned travel trip, we had gay, straight, and just-don't-care people, all of which served to enforce the point that assigning rooms by gender is really stupid, because we're going to find ways to hook up anyway, even if it involves sneaking out to the hot tub at midnight (Who, me?). Since there were usually three people to a room, but only two beds, it was fun to see what people came up with. One room of straight boys went out and purchased an inflatable pool float, which when blown up and covered with blankets and pillows became a pretty good bed. The other room took the mattresses off the box springs and spread them around the room so that two of them slept on mattresses and the other on box springs. The room of gay boys just pushed the beds together to become one big bed, and they all slept in it together. There were only two girls rooms, and one of them (mine) only had two people. In the other room, it was assumed that one of the girls would spend the night in her boyfriend's bed, thus leaving the beds to the other girls. Much less complicated. Although almost all of this was facilitated by the alcohol brought along by one boy, which apparently can make even poker tournaments somewhat fascinating.

fanfic musings

2007-07-09T03:11:18Z

I've been wandering the intertubes this weekend, and two things have caught my mind. First, why is it that all the odd/rare/disturbing pairings involve Snape in some way? I've seen Snape/Fluffy, Snape/Kreacher...WHY? Fortunately, I haven't clicked on any of these fics, so my mind is spared that scarring. Hagrid/Filch, which doesn't involve Snape, is also too disturbing for me to contemplate.
The other thought that occurred to me, prompted by numerous broken links, was that I really should start saving to my hard drive all the really good fics that I come across. Sometimes I'm able to find the fic in question, after searching through multiple archives, and sometimes, as in the case of "Other than in Dreams" by Aspen, it appears to have well and truly disappeared. But then I remember the Wayback Machine, and all is good. Still, I wish more rec sites would actually post fics, instead of links, to save the trouble of searching the intertubes for them. And there are some fics that can't be reached even through the web archives. Why is it always the rare pair fics that seem to be gone? It probably isn't just them, it just seems like it because there are so many more fics available for popular pairings. But it frustrates me that there are few enough Harry/Oliver or Harry/Cedric fics to begin with, and then some of those disappear, leaving even fewer of them around to read. It was a pleasant surprise for me, however, to see how much has been added to the Weasley Slash Archive since I last was there.
A third note, which has come up as I write this: among the fics that I was actually able to read with a minimum of searching was "Lesson Learned" by Jai Marie. Sometimes, after reading reams and reams of fanfic!sex, it is restful and wonderful to read a fic with realistic first time kissing/sex. It is messy, it is awkward, and you may wonder if you're doing it right. It made me very happy to see this fanfic reflect that, with Harry and Cedric discovering the mechanics of gay sex. Poor boys. Yes, lube really is necessary. If you can't remember the spell, do something else. Don't bravely forge ahead without it. *snicker* As I'm not a gay male, I'm not really qualified to comment on the accuracy of the sex itself, but the kissing? Definitely how I remember it. You know, I feel sorry for those younger fanfic readers, who read all the perfect kissing/sex scenes and think that's how it really is supposed to happen, and then they get out there and experience the imperfect world for themselves.

kaelinkins @ 2007-04-12T14:56:00

2007-04-12T21:56:59Z

What Famous Leader Are You?
personality tests by similarminds.com

Oooo, freaky genius. Fun.

Looking at quizzes...

2007-03-05T04:21:43Z

You Are 78% Misanthropic

Here's the truth: Most people suck. You are just lucky enough to know it.
You're not ready to go live alone in a cave - but you're getting there.

How Misanthropic Are You?

Not very surprising...

You Are 48% Nerdy

You may be a bit surprised with this score, but your more of a closet nerd than an actual nerd.
Stop denying your inner nerd! You're truly dorkier than you think.

How Nerdy Are You?

Okay, my inner grammar cop got annoyed with this picture.

Float On by Modest Mouse

"Bad news comes don't you worry even when it lands
Good news will work its way to all them plans"

Laid back and real, people appreciated you for you are in 2004.

What 2004 Hit Song Are You?

Argh! This was one of Modest Mouse's worst songs on that album!

You Are Green Tea Pocky

Your attitude: natural and zen
Peaceful yet full of life. Deep and thoughtful.
You're halfway to tantric bliss!

What Flavor Pocky Are You?

rhia314 would like this quiz, although Green Tea is definitely not my favorite pocky flavor. That honor would go to chocolate coconut.

You Are the Very Gay Velma!

She might not even realize it...
But Velma is all about Daphne... not Fred!

What Gay Childhood Icon Are You?

okay...

You Are 70% Indie

You're a very indie person, and admit it, you look down a little on people who strive to be normal.
You'll indulge in a little mainstream pop culture every now and then. But for you, anything not indie is a guilty pleasure!

How Indie Are You?

You know, the whole "More indie than thou" attitude in Seattle really annoys me sometimes.

This Journal

2007-02-05T02:59:56Z

If you actually want to read my blog, or any of my fanfiction listings, head over to my blogger page: http://fruittheworld.blogspot.com/