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This ficlet is set in my Spike and Dean Winchester universe. It also contains spoilers for last night's Supernatural episode Mystery Spot.
I really need to get a Spike/Dean icon. ::goes off to search for pictures::
This time it was Sam that called him in the predawn hours, waking him from sleep. Spike had barely gotten any sleep recently. Between him and Bobby, Spike felt as if they had scoured every book on demonic deals that they could get their hands on. Spike had even tried summoning D’Hoffryn to try to find out whom the Crossroads Demon worked for, but he had no luck. The old bastard hadn’t even shown up.
“ ‘Lo?”
“Spike.”
“What happened?” A long silence greeted his question, and then Spike heard Sam take in a breath before letting it out slowly.
“Over a hundred Tuesdays and I couldn’t save him.”
“Sam…”
“It was a time loop,” Sam interrupted. “That trickster we thought we’d killed? Well turns out he’s very much alive. He wanted to teach me a lesson. Told me there was no way to save Dean.”
“Demons lie Sammy,” Spike said as he rubbed his face. He was so tired, but he wasn’t about to give up, not if there was any chance of saving Dean. Spike wasn’t about to give up even if there wasn’t.
“Then why have they all said the same thing huh?” Sam asked his voice cracking. “I spent months with Dean dead. Did you know that? It was all part of my ‘lesson’.”
“Bloody hell,” Spike swore. “I’m going the kill the bastard.”
“No you’re not,” Sam said, his voice soft and colder than Spike ever thought possible. “I am.”
“All right mate,” Spike said as he swallowed the lump in his throat. “I’ll hold him down for you.”
“Thanks,” Sam said with a chuckled, though it was brittle, sounding as if Sam were about to fall apart at any moment.
“We’ll save him Sammy,” Spike vowed. “Even if we have to put him in a bloody protective circle for the rest of his life, we’ll do it.”
When Sam hung up, Spike rose from his bed. It was still dark outside and Council headquarters was quiet. Pulling on his discarded shirt, and grabbing the notebook he had been using earlier, Spike left his room. He didn’t bother putting on any shoes; they would just make too much noise as he walked.
The library was empty when he got there, the hour being too late even for the staunchest researchers. Carefully he pulled over a stack of books and grabbed a pen that someone had left on the table and got to work. He would sleep when Dean was safe.
I really need to get a Spike/Dean icon. ::goes off to search for pictures::
This time it was Sam that called him in the predawn hours, waking him from sleep. Spike had barely gotten any sleep recently. Between him and Bobby, Spike felt as if they had scoured every book on demonic deals that they could get their hands on. Spike had even tried summoning D’Hoffryn to try to find out whom the Crossroads Demon worked for, but he had no luck. The old bastard hadn’t even shown up.
“ ‘Lo?”
“Spike.”
“What happened?” A long silence greeted his question, and then Spike heard Sam take in a breath before letting it out slowly.
“Over a hundred Tuesdays and I couldn’t save him.”
“Sam…”
“It was a time loop,” Sam interrupted. “That trickster we thought we’d killed? Well turns out he’s very much alive. He wanted to teach me a lesson. Told me there was no way to save Dean.”
“Demons lie Sammy,” Spike said as he rubbed his face. He was so tired, but he wasn’t about to give up, not if there was any chance of saving Dean. Spike wasn’t about to give up even if there wasn’t.
“Then why have they all said the same thing huh?” Sam asked his voice cracking. “I spent months with Dean dead. Did you know that? It was all part of my ‘lesson’.”
“Bloody hell,” Spike swore. “I’m going the kill the bastard.”
“No you’re not,” Sam said, his voice soft and colder than Spike ever thought possible. “I am.”
“All right mate,” Spike said as he swallowed the lump in his throat. “I’ll hold him down for you.”
“Thanks,” Sam said with a chuckled, though it was brittle, sounding as if Sam were about to fall apart at any moment.
“We’ll save him Sammy,” Spike vowed. “Even if we have to put him in a bloody protective circle for the rest of his life, we’ll do it.”
When Sam hung up, Spike rose from his bed. It was still dark outside and Council headquarters was quiet. Pulling on his discarded shirt, and grabbing the notebook he had been using earlier, Spike left his room. He didn’t bother putting on any shoes; they would just make too much noise as he walked.
The library was empty when he got there, the hour being too late even for the staunchest researchers. Carefully he pulled over a stack of books and grabbed a pen that someone had left on the table and got to work. He would sleep when Dean was safe.
