Story [Supernatural] "Salt Of The Earth" (1/1, PG)

Discussion in 'Non Star Wars Fan Fiction' started by Dantana Skywalker, Jul 25, 2008.

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  1. Dantana Skywalker Manager Emeritus

    Member Since:
    Apr 7, 2002
    star 5
    Title: Salt Of The Earth
    Author: Dana
    Rating: PG
    Spoilers: "All Hell Breaks Loose, Part 2"
    Summary: Dean and Sam pursue a demon in Utah.
    Author's Notes: Written for a fanfic challenge over at Livejournal. Now AU, obviously.


    331.12.22.18

    Dean fell asleep in Wyoming, with Sam behind the wheel. He felt like he hadn't slept for days. After their conversation by the car, his brother hadn't brought up the deal again. They also hadn't discussed Dad. One night at a motel, and then they had been off to Bobby's.

    A month later, they were on the road again, headed towards somewhere. Anywhere.

    When he woke, it was to towering mountains still capped with snow and a periwinkle sky, surrounding a glittering valley. He sat up, rubbed his eyes and blinked.

    "Where-" he began, but Sam cut him off, anticipating the question.

    "Utah," he said. "Heard on the radio that a fourteen-year-old girl murdered her parents in their bed last night. Went after her siblings, but the oldest one knocked her out and called the police."

    Dean's eyelids felt like sandpaper and his neck hurt something awful. This was not the kind of crap he wanted to deal with right now.

    "Demon?" he asked tersely.

    "Think so," his little brother replied quietly. "She's just the right age to be open to possession."

    After a long moment, as they passed through Park City, the eldest Winchester sighed. He pulled out his sunglasses and put them on. "I hate Utah."

    330.15.09.56

    They couldn't get in to see the girl, since she was in lockdown, but they arranged an interview with one of the neighbours for the next day, posing as reporters from back east.

    As much as Dean professed to hate Utah, he liked the food. "Except fry sauce," he muttered, as they left the Training Table. "What the hell's that about?"

    Another night in another motel. The sun was blinding. Dean felt kind of twitchy, like there was a clock somewhere inside him that he could hear, ticking off the seconds of his life. He tried not to dwell on it, but the thought kept creeping in at the edges, slowly whittling away at him. Is this the last time I'm going to do this?

    The living room was done in blues. Faded blue walls, darker blue pile carpet, slate-blue velour sofa with a robin's egg crocheted doilie on the back. The house smelled like mothballs, and Dean found his attention wandering to the bright sunshine, past the window with the little glass hummingbirds hanging in front of it.

    She'd heard the screams, but hadn't seen anything, she said. Such a lovely girl, always well-behaved and quiet. Until the day before the murders, when she'd started acting oddly. It had rained, and been so dark outside, even during the afternoon.

    "Oddly, how?" Sam asked.

    Dean stared at the wall. Several pictures hung there. A painting of Jesus Christ knocking at a door with no knob on the outside. An old man with black framed glasses. Some etching of a building, one they'd seen driving through Salt Lake, that looked like a German castle uprooted and dropped in the middle of the city. He thought about the door, wondered what it meant.

    The elderly woman offered them cookies. It might have just been his imagination, but it was possibly the best cookie he'd had in his life, and it was just a sugar cookie.

    359.23.17.10

    The neighbour's house had traces of sulfur everywhere, especially in the girl's room.

    "How many kids do these people have?" he wondered aloud, peering into yet another bedroom.

    "Six," Sam answered.

    He picked up a toy rabbit off the white dresser. Its lavender fur was incredibly soft, the black button eyes somehow bright and watchful. With a disturbing disquiet in his chest, Dean put it back down, trying not to think of the little child who would grow up not knowing his or her mother.

    Pictures lined the hallway, depicting each child's progression from infant to their current age. The victims smiled cheerfully out of a family portrait, a cherubic baby on the mother's lap.

    Th
  2. ophelia Cards Against Humanity Host. Ex-Mod

    Game Host
    Member Since:
    Jun 25, 2002
    star 6
    This was just beautifully done . . . it's really a mood and theme piece, and you don't often see those done well. I only know "Supernatural" through fanfic--and even of that was often very AU--but I picked up on Sam and Dean's dilemma immediately. The seared emptiness that Sam feels came through loud and clear, and the Utah Salt Flats are an excellent visual metaphor for "scorched earth" and "no future." I don't even know what the progression of numbers meant exactly, but I understood they were related to the idea of Sam's time running out, and they effectively conveyed a feeling of pressure. Lots of people try to incorporate the "ticking clock" thing into print media, and it almost never works, so well done there.

    As an aside, I have relatives out in that part of the state, and recognized many of the local references. Yep--that's Utah, all right. :p And the salt flats are eerily impressive, aren't they? I've repurposed them into fic myself before. I put them on an alien planet, since that's about what they look like.

    Neat little detail about demons not being able to get into the earth through the salt, too, btw. :)
  3. Dantana Skywalker Manager Emeritus

    Member Since:
    Apr 7, 2002
    star 5
    It's Dean, actually, not Sam. :D The numbers counting down are the 365 days he was given after he sold his soul.
  4. ophelia Cards Against Humanity Host. Ex-Mod

    Game Host
    Member Since:
    Jun 25, 2002
    star 6
    This is what happens when I read outside my insular little fandoms.

    I r dumm. :oops: :p


    At least I successfully identified Utah!
  5. Dantana Skywalker Manager Emeritus

    Member Since:
    Apr 7, 2002
    star 5
    Hee. It's okay. I'm glad you liked it. This is one my favourite pieces in this fandom so far.
  6. JadeSolo Manager Emeritus

    Member Since:
    Sep 20, 2002
    star 6
    I first thought the numbers were IP addresses. :oops: I need to finish my coffee before reading.

    Six kids. That was a lot of sex.

    [face_laugh] This story does exactly what the show does - switch from tragedy to humor without missing a beat, and without it being awkward. Loved how you used the salt flats as a natural barrier, but I especially liked the description of the neighbor's house. Creepy, funny, and sad all at the same time.
  7. Helen_Taft Jedi Knight

    Member Since:
    Mar 18, 2008
    star 2
    Wow! I loved this. What an angsty, in-character expose of Dean and his (typically) hidden turmoil after selling his soul. The way you had him mentally counting down was so heart-rending, as were his comparisons to that poor possessed girl and her now ripped apart family. =D= Beautifully written!
  8. Dantana Skywalker Manager Emeritus

    Member Since:
    Apr 7, 2002
    star 5
    LOL! Yeah, I realised before I ever posted the story to the 50 states challenge on LJ last year that they looked like IP addresses. Didn't stop me from using it, though. :p

    I'm glad you liked. :) I actually based the neighbour's house on a lady I used to live across the street from. Her decor was terminally stuck in the early '50s, and she was obsessed with butterflies.


    Hey, you snuck in there while I had the reply window open!

    Thank you so much!


    Dana
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