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daylight_darknightI have a thing for mixed genres in music, TV and writing, which is probably why this fic starts out extremely dark and serious and ends completely silly.
Title: Gryphons, Bazookas and Turtles
Characters: Dean, Castiel, Sam
Rating: PG for blood and swearing
Genre: Weird combination of humour, action/adventure and drama
Word Count: 1943
Spoilers: Up to 5x04
Summary: Sam, Dean and Castiel get stuck down in the sewers of New York City and find absolutely no turtles.
A.N.: Could vaguely be considered a sequel to my other fic The Painted Turtle of Healing.
Gryphons, Bazookas and Turtles
By Daylight
Three bloody figures dashed through a door into a dark room. When the last had made it through, they slammed the door shut bracing their shoulders against it. As soon as they had, something large and shrieking hit the other side. The entire room shook, the walls and floor creaking and cracking. The trio were almost thrown back, but they regained their footing and braced themselves once more. The pounding came again and again mixed with more shrieking and the piercing sound of something sharp scratching and scrapping. It slammed against the door until they thought the whole structure would come down, but it finally stopped and the inhuman screeching trailed off into the distance accompanied by the sound of things smashing and shattering.
The three waited until they were sure it had moved on before sighing in relief. They slid down until they were seated shoulder to shoulder their backs against the door, all breathing heavily. Eventually, one of them, the last to make it through the door, looked up, finally taking in their surroundings.
“Where the hell are we?” asked Dean.
Blinking, Sam raised his head, absentmindedly wiping away a small trail of blood from his forehead. “Umm…” He shone his flashlight across the depths of the room. It was small and dusty with cement walls and contained nothing but a scattering of garbage on the floor and a single broken lightbulb on the ceiling. “Some sort of storage room maybe.”
Dean winced as he put pressure on a particularly deep cut on his right arm.
“In other words, a dead end. Great. Just great.”
“We do have another way out,” Sam replied nodding his head to the man seated between them.
“Easy for you to say.” Dean scowled. “Cas, you up for a little flying? I think we’d better get out of here before that thing decides to give breaking the door down another try.”
“I need a few minutes,” replied the angel.
Frowning, Dean raised his flashlight to get a better look at Castiel. The angel was leaning forward, his face pale, his eyes pinched tightly closed. Dean swallowed convulsively when he saw the cause. There were five deep, red gouges across the angel’s chest.
“Shit.”
The brothers exchanged alarmed looks over Cas’ head, but another glance at the wounds revealed that they were already closing. The slashes which were so deep they could see glimpses of bone were slowly but visibly knitting together. Thank God for miraculous angel healing. Sam and Dean were lucky to have received only comparatively shallow scratches and bruises from being tossed around. If they’d gotten wounds like that, they’d be busy bleeding their life out all over the floor. Still, it didn’t look as if angel healing made the pain any less.
“Are you going to be alright?” Sam asked.
“Yes,” Castiel gritted out through his clenched teeth.
Dean grimaced, but there wasn’t anything he could actually do so he leant his head back and settled in to wait. Of course, he wasn’t one to stay silent for long.
“Dude, that was a gryphon.”
Sam nodded. “I noticed.”
“A frigging gryphon.”
“Uh huh.”
“In New York.”
“Yup.”
“In the sewers!” Dean rubbed the back of his head. “I mean rats, sure. Alligators, maybe, but a gryphon?”
Shoulders slumped wearily, Sam sighed. “Someone probably summoned it here.”
“And have I mentioned the fact that there was absolutely no sign of the Colt?”
Sam bristled. “I didn’t guarantee that it’d be here. All we knew was there was a magical creature in the sewers guarding something. It could have very well been the Colt.”
“Well, it wasn’t. It was just a useless pile of gold and jewels.” Dean smacked a hand against his forehead. “And I can’t believe I just called gold useless.” He glanced back at the door a thoughtful expression on his face.
“No, Dean,” intoned Sam.
“What?”
Sam rolled his eyes. “We are not going back for the treasure.”
“It was just a thought,” Dean replied with a shrug.
“And what were you planning to do with the gryphon? Pull its tail again?”
“I was trying to distract it before it ate Cas for dinner!”
“For which I am very grateful,” Castiel put in, still looking pale but at least in less pain.
“You’re welcome,” said Dean smiling smugly.
Sam shook his head. “But did you really need to keep taunting it and calling it a big ugly kitty?”
“Well, maybe if we’d been better prepared.”
“How was I supposed to know there’d be a gryphon down here? They’re usually only found in Asia.”
“I know and they’re usually supposed to be the size of wolves not the size of elephants!” Dean cried. “If we’d known, we could have brought better weapons. Cas could have gotten a bigger sword. I could have had a bazooka.”
“For the last time, we are not getting a bazooka!” Sam yelled hands raised.
“What’s a bazooka?” asked Cas looking from one to the other.
“A really cool, really big gun,” explained Dean. “Which would have made fighting the gryphon a hell of a lot easier.”
“How exactly would you even get your hands on one?”
“I’ve got a few contacts.”
“And we’d hide it where?” Sam questioned eyebrows raised. “It wouldn’t exactly fit in the trunk of the impala.”
“We’d store it somewhere and only bring it out for special occasions,” Dean insisted.
Sam began to bang the back of his head against the door.
Ignoring his brother, Dean turned his attention back to Castiel. “How are you doing?”
“Better,” stated the angel. His clothes remained torn and bloody, but the gashes had become merely dark red streaks and his face was back to its normal stoic expression having lost the worn lines of pain.
“Great. How ‘bout getting us out of here?”
Cas frowned. “I still require a little more time to recover.”
“Could you hurry it up? I think there might be rats in here,” Dean said shinning his flashlight into the dark shadowed corners of the room.
“Give him a break, Dean,” Sam spoke rubbing tiredly at his face. “He’s exhausted, just like us. We’ve been chasing every single possible lead on the Colt for months without any breaks.”
“Yeah well, it’s kind of important.”
“We’re not going to be able to make much use of it if we’re dead on our feet.”
The brothers glared at each other until Dean finally closed his eyes and looked away with a sigh.
“Don’t think I don’t know the real reason you dragged us down into these sewers,” he said.
Sam frowned. “What’s that?”
“Come on, there’s nothing I don’t know about you. You’ve loved them ever since you were a little kid. Admit it. You jumped at the chance to come down here and see for yourself.”
“See what?”
“I bet you were even hoping we might run into them.”
“Dean…”
The older Winchester leaned over towards Cas and said in a fake whisper, “Did you know that when Sam was young he wanted to be a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle?”
The angel turned towards the younger brother, his head titled, his expression one of completely serious curiosity and confusion.
Sam huffed. “Dean!”
Dean smirked. “You should have seen him running around with his little, homemade purple mask fighting off evil foot soldiers with a broom handle.”
“I will never understand this obsession with turtles,” said Castiel.
“It’s not me, just him,” Dean insisted. “He wanted to be Donatello ‘cause he’s the geeky one.”
The look on Sam’s face clearly indicated he was busy debating different ways of killing his brother.
“I, of course, would be Leonardo,” announced Dean with a grin. “The cool one.”
Sam snorted. “More like Michelangelo.”
“No way. He’s a goof.”
“Exactly.”
Dean scowled.
“I suppose that would make Cas Raph…” Sam cut off when he saw Dean shake his head. He nodded in understanding as the two silently decided it was probably better not to connect Cas to a character who just happened to share the same name as the archangel who killed him.
Castiel narrowed his eyes as he glanced at the two of them.
“He could be Splinter,” Dean suggested.
“No. Bobby’s Splinter. Casey Jones?”
“Nowhere near hot-headed enough,” said Dean shaking his head. Suddenly, he snapped his fingers. “I’ve got it! Our friend who helps us out and brings us information from the world above…”
Sam’s eyes grew wide.
“April O’Neil,” the brothers cried in unison and immediately fell apart laughing.
The angel frowned. “Dean? Sam?”
But the brothers were too busy bent over laughing, completely forgetting the ache of their injuries as tears started to stream down their faces.
“Dean!” Cas tried again.
“What?” Dean managed to get out, his lips still twitching and his chest jumping with suppressed laughter.
“Are you alright?”
“Just great, April,” said Dean and fell over laughing once more.
Forehead furrowed, Castiel turned to Sam. “I fear your brother might be suffering from some sort of damage to his brain.”
“And you only just figured that out,” said Sam between laughs.
“Hey,” cried Dean, but he was too busy laughing to retaliate.
It was unclear how long they would have remained rolling around on the floor if there hadn’t been a sudden shriek and crash against the other side of the door announcing the return of the gryphon. Dean swore as the three of them scrambled to their feet bracing the door once more.
“Are you ready, Cas? Because I don’t think we can wait any longer,” said Dean hearing the sounds of metal bending as the door hinges began to give in from the repeated attacks.
“I’m ready,” announced the angel raising his hands.
“Wait,” interrupted Sam. “Take us to Bobby’s.”
“What? No,” exclaimed Dean. “We are not leaving my car alone in New York City.”
“Dean, we are all exhausted and we need patching up. We’re going to Bobby’s. The car will survive without us for a day or two.”
Castiel nodded in agreement.
“Fine,” Dean grumbled.
Then there was no more time for discussion as the door began to bend inward. Castiel placed his fingers on there foreheads and they were gone. The sudden dizzying feeling of weightlessness and acceleration soon passed and the sight of Bobby’s library appeared before them. Unfortunately, Cas still wasn’t completely recovered and arrived feeling faint and light-headed from the effort. Sam grabbed the wobbly angel attempting to stop him from falling over only to realize his own balance was off from the dizzying journey. Dean, who was more used to angel flights, was steady but when he tried to help the angel, he suddenly found himself being pulled to the ground by the combined weight of both Castiel and Sam.
All three of them landed on the floor with a loud crash. They lay there a moment breathing heavily before Sam and Dean glanced at each other and immediately started cracking up once more.
Bobby wheeled into the room, alarmed expression on his face and shotgun tucked under one arm, only to find his three friends blood splattered and lying on the floor, two of them quivering with laughter.
“Are you boys alright?” he asked in confusion.
Sam and Dean were too busy laughing but Castiel slowly pushed himself up onto his elbows and met Bobby’s gaze. “I’m fine,” he said in his usual hoarse tone. “But I’m afraid Sam and Dean have been rendered insane.”
The brothers, of course, found this hilarious and began laughing even harder.
Bobby merely shook his head and rolled out of the room to fetch the first aid kit.
Title: Gryphons, Bazookas and Turtles
Characters: Dean, Castiel, Sam
Rating: PG for blood and swearing
Genre: Weird combination of humour, action/adventure and drama
Word Count: 1943
Spoilers: Up to 5x04
Summary: Sam, Dean and Castiel get stuck down in the sewers of New York City and find absolutely no turtles.
A.N.: Could vaguely be considered a sequel to my other fic The Painted Turtle of Healing.
By Daylight
Three bloody figures dashed through a door into a dark room. When the last had made it through, they slammed the door shut bracing their shoulders against it. As soon as they had, something large and shrieking hit the other side. The entire room shook, the walls and floor creaking and cracking. The trio were almost thrown back, but they regained their footing and braced themselves once more. The pounding came again and again mixed with more shrieking and the piercing sound of something sharp scratching and scrapping. It slammed against the door until they thought the whole structure would come down, but it finally stopped and the inhuman screeching trailed off into the distance accompanied by the sound of things smashing and shattering.
The three waited until they were sure it had moved on before sighing in relief. They slid down until they were seated shoulder to shoulder their backs against the door, all breathing heavily. Eventually, one of them, the last to make it through the door, looked up, finally taking in their surroundings.
“Where the hell are we?” asked Dean.
Blinking, Sam raised his head, absentmindedly wiping away a small trail of blood from his forehead. “Umm…” He shone his flashlight across the depths of the room. It was small and dusty with cement walls and contained nothing but a scattering of garbage on the floor and a single broken lightbulb on the ceiling. “Some sort of storage room maybe.”
Dean winced as he put pressure on a particularly deep cut on his right arm.
“In other words, a dead end. Great. Just great.”
“We do have another way out,” Sam replied nodding his head to the man seated between them.
“Easy for you to say.” Dean scowled. “Cas, you up for a little flying? I think we’d better get out of here before that thing decides to give breaking the door down another try.”
“I need a few minutes,” replied the angel.
Frowning, Dean raised his flashlight to get a better look at Castiel. The angel was leaning forward, his face pale, his eyes pinched tightly closed. Dean swallowed convulsively when he saw the cause. There were five deep, red gouges across the angel’s chest.
“Shit.”
The brothers exchanged alarmed looks over Cas’ head, but another glance at the wounds revealed that they were already closing. The slashes which were so deep they could see glimpses of bone were slowly but visibly knitting together. Thank God for miraculous angel healing. Sam and Dean were lucky to have received only comparatively shallow scratches and bruises from being tossed around. If they’d gotten wounds like that, they’d be busy bleeding their life out all over the floor. Still, it didn’t look as if angel healing made the pain any less.
“Are you going to be alright?” Sam asked.
“Yes,” Castiel gritted out through his clenched teeth.
Dean grimaced, but there wasn’t anything he could actually do so he leant his head back and settled in to wait. Of course, he wasn’t one to stay silent for long.
“Dude, that was a gryphon.”
Sam nodded. “I noticed.”
“A frigging gryphon.”
“Uh huh.”
“In New York.”
“Yup.”
“In the sewers!” Dean rubbed the back of his head. “I mean rats, sure. Alligators, maybe, but a gryphon?”
Shoulders slumped wearily, Sam sighed. “Someone probably summoned it here.”
“And have I mentioned the fact that there was absolutely no sign of the Colt?”
Sam bristled. “I didn’t guarantee that it’d be here. All we knew was there was a magical creature in the sewers guarding something. It could have very well been the Colt.”
“Well, it wasn’t. It was just a useless pile of gold and jewels.” Dean smacked a hand against his forehead. “And I can’t believe I just called gold useless.” He glanced back at the door a thoughtful expression on his face.
“No, Dean,” intoned Sam.
“What?”
Sam rolled his eyes. “We are not going back for the treasure.”
“It was just a thought,” Dean replied with a shrug.
“And what were you planning to do with the gryphon? Pull its tail again?”
“I was trying to distract it before it ate Cas for dinner!”
“For which I am very grateful,” Castiel put in, still looking pale but at least in less pain.
“You’re welcome,” said Dean smiling smugly.
Sam shook his head. “But did you really need to keep taunting it and calling it a big ugly kitty?”
“Well, maybe if we’d been better prepared.”
“How was I supposed to know there’d be a gryphon down here? They’re usually only found in Asia.”
“I know and they’re usually supposed to be the size of wolves not the size of elephants!” Dean cried. “If we’d known, we could have brought better weapons. Cas could have gotten a bigger sword. I could have had a bazooka.”
“For the last time, we are not getting a bazooka!” Sam yelled hands raised.
“What’s a bazooka?” asked Cas looking from one to the other.
“A really cool, really big gun,” explained Dean. “Which would have made fighting the gryphon a hell of a lot easier.”
“How exactly would you even get your hands on one?”
“I’ve got a few contacts.”
“And we’d hide it where?” Sam questioned eyebrows raised. “It wouldn’t exactly fit in the trunk of the impala.”
“We’d store it somewhere and only bring it out for special occasions,” Dean insisted.
Sam began to bang the back of his head against the door.
Ignoring his brother, Dean turned his attention back to Castiel. “How are you doing?”
“Better,” stated the angel. His clothes remained torn and bloody, but the gashes had become merely dark red streaks and his face was back to its normal stoic expression having lost the worn lines of pain.
“Great. How ‘bout getting us out of here?”
Cas frowned. “I still require a little more time to recover.”
“Could you hurry it up? I think there might be rats in here,” Dean said shinning his flashlight into the dark shadowed corners of the room.
“Give him a break, Dean,” Sam spoke rubbing tiredly at his face. “He’s exhausted, just like us. We’ve been chasing every single possible lead on the Colt for months without any breaks.”
“Yeah well, it’s kind of important.”
“We’re not going to be able to make much use of it if we’re dead on our feet.”
The brothers glared at each other until Dean finally closed his eyes and looked away with a sigh.
“Don’t think I don’t know the real reason you dragged us down into these sewers,” he said.
Sam frowned. “What’s that?”
“Come on, there’s nothing I don’t know about you. You’ve loved them ever since you were a little kid. Admit it. You jumped at the chance to come down here and see for yourself.”
“See what?”
“I bet you were even hoping we might run into them.”
“Dean…”
The older Winchester leaned over towards Cas and said in a fake whisper, “Did you know that when Sam was young he wanted to be a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle?”
The angel turned towards the younger brother, his head titled, his expression one of completely serious curiosity and confusion.
Sam huffed. “Dean!”
Dean smirked. “You should have seen him running around with his little, homemade purple mask fighting off evil foot soldiers with a broom handle.”
“I will never understand this obsession with turtles,” said Castiel.
“It’s not me, just him,” Dean insisted. “He wanted to be Donatello ‘cause he’s the geeky one.”
The look on Sam’s face clearly indicated he was busy debating different ways of killing his brother.
“I, of course, would be Leonardo,” announced Dean with a grin. “The cool one.”
Sam snorted. “More like Michelangelo.”
“No way. He’s a goof.”
“Exactly.”
Dean scowled.
“I suppose that would make Cas Raph…” Sam cut off when he saw Dean shake his head. He nodded in understanding as the two silently decided it was probably better not to connect Cas to a character who just happened to share the same name as the archangel who killed him.
Castiel narrowed his eyes as he glanced at the two of them.
“He could be Splinter,” Dean suggested.
“No. Bobby’s Splinter. Casey Jones?”
“Nowhere near hot-headed enough,” said Dean shaking his head. Suddenly, he snapped his fingers. “I’ve got it! Our friend who helps us out and brings us information from the world above…”
Sam’s eyes grew wide.
“April O’Neil,” the brothers cried in unison and immediately fell apart laughing.
The angel frowned. “Dean? Sam?”
But the brothers were too busy bent over laughing, completely forgetting the ache of their injuries as tears started to stream down their faces.
“Dean!” Cas tried again.
“What?” Dean managed to get out, his lips still twitching and his chest jumping with suppressed laughter.
“Are you alright?”
“Just great, April,” said Dean and fell over laughing once more.
Forehead furrowed, Castiel turned to Sam. “I fear your brother might be suffering from some sort of damage to his brain.”
“And you only just figured that out,” said Sam between laughs.
“Hey,” cried Dean, but he was too busy laughing to retaliate.
It was unclear how long they would have remained rolling around on the floor if there hadn’t been a sudden shriek and crash against the other side of the door announcing the return of the gryphon. Dean swore as the three of them scrambled to their feet bracing the door once more.
“Are you ready, Cas? Because I don’t think we can wait any longer,” said Dean hearing the sounds of metal bending as the door hinges began to give in from the repeated attacks.
“I’m ready,” announced the angel raising his hands.
“Wait,” interrupted Sam. “Take us to Bobby’s.”
“What? No,” exclaimed Dean. “We are not leaving my car alone in New York City.”
“Dean, we are all exhausted and we need patching up. We’re going to Bobby’s. The car will survive without us for a day or two.”
Castiel nodded in agreement.
“Fine,” Dean grumbled.
Then there was no more time for discussion as the door began to bend inward. Castiel placed his fingers on there foreheads and they were gone. The sudden dizzying feeling of weightlessness and acceleration soon passed and the sight of Bobby’s library appeared before them. Unfortunately, Cas still wasn’t completely recovered and arrived feeling faint and light-headed from the effort. Sam grabbed the wobbly angel attempting to stop him from falling over only to realize his own balance was off from the dizzying journey. Dean, who was more used to angel flights, was steady but when he tried to help the angel, he suddenly found himself being pulled to the ground by the combined weight of both Castiel and Sam.
All three of them landed on the floor with a loud crash. They lay there a moment breathing heavily before Sam and Dean glanced at each other and immediately started cracking up once more.
Bobby wheeled into the room, alarmed expression on his face and shotgun tucked under one arm, only to find his three friends blood splattered and lying on the floor, two of them quivering with laughter.
“Are you boys alright?” he asked in confusion.
Sam and Dean were too busy laughing but Castiel slowly pushed himself up onto his elbows and met Bobby’s gaze. “I’m fine,” he said in his usual hoarse tone. “But I’m afraid Sam and Dean have been rendered insane.”
The brothers, of course, found this hilarious and began laughing even harder.
Bobby merely shook his head and rolled out of the room to fetch the first aid kit.
(no subject)
Date: 2009-11-09 10:33 pm (UTC)