linda92595 (linda92595) wrote,

Satuday's Child Pt 4a

Saturday's Child Part 4

Author: Linda Atkinson

Fandom: Supernatural

Pairing: John/Dean

Warnings:  Graphic M/M sex. AU.  Gender Swap (John); Slash and Het John/Dean; M-Preg (John pregnant.)


Dean stood in the street just outside the house. He and Sam had just exorcised a poltergeist. The confused, but grateful, family had offered to let them stay over for the night, save them the expense of the hotel, but somehow the overwhelming tension and underlying suspicion aimed at them convinced the boys to move on.


Sam was seated on the hood of the Impala while Dean walked up and down the street trying to get a clear enough signal on his cell phone to make a call. It was six o'clock and time for his brother's nightly call to Dad.  He could see Dean's brows knitted in frustration. Finally, the expression on his brother's face relaxed and Sam could hear the phone ringing, and the smoky, ground-glass voice on the other end.  Followed by Dean's breathily exhaled, "John?" Sam snickered, and Dean shot him a look that said "Fuck off and die, bitch."


Far off in Lawrence, John settled back in the mind-numbingly red leatherette chair at the Pizza Hut, and grinned into the cell phone. He turned to the window muting his voice.  "How'd it go?"


"Fine, Sammy and I are all wrapped up. We're leaving in the morning."


John sighed. He hated being cooped up at home with the boys on the road. But he knew it wasn't safe for him to be out there.  And Dean and Sam were more than capable of handling the jobs on their own. Unconsciously, his hand drifted down to the slight curve of his belly. He was five months now, but the baby seemed to be spreading out to the side so he wasn't showing all that much. Most people would put the bump down to middle-aged spread. 


Dean exhaled into the phone again, "You okay?"


John rolled his eyes. "Yeah, I'm just having dinner. The kid seems to like pizza this week." John had had a relatively easy pregnancy, a little morning sickness at the end of the first trimester, but nothing but weird cravings the past four weeks. He had also noticed Dean's tendency to go moony now that John was starting to show. He could almost see Dean's dopey expression over the phone, even without the camera. "What was the job?"


Dean ignored the question. "Hey, put the phone down so I can talk to her."


John laughed. "Dean, I am not going to sit in Pizza Hut with a cell phone on my belly. People already think we're a little weird as it is. That'll just push them over the edge. Let me talk to Sammy."


Sam took the phone from his brother who was pouting. "Hey, Dad, how's it going?" He paused listening for a moment. "Yeah, it was just a poltergeist. Naw, it was not too much trouble. We tried exorcising it at dinner though, and it made maggots appear in all the food. Pretty much everybody, including Dean, puked." The unspoken "But not me." hung in the air. He glared over at Dean who flipped him off. "It was a real stellar moment in our lives."


Chuckling John asked, "Does Dean still get that stupid look on his face whenever I mention the kid?"


"And that would be distinguishable from the regular stupid expression he has on his face all the time, how?" Sam snorted. He could hear his father laughing on the other end of the phone.  Dean grabbed the phone from his younger brother.


"We're going to head back to the hotel. It'll take about six hours driving tomorrow, but we’ll be home. Be careful, okay?"


"Yeah, sure, same to you. Watch out for Sammy, he's just getting back into the swing of things. And Dean…" John coughed, clearing his throat. "You know…"


"Yeah, right back at you, dude."  Dean folded the phone and put it in his pocket. Turning to Sam he sighed and said, "Let’s hit the road, back to the hotel."


 Noting Dean's glum expression Sam said. "Why don't we just pick up our gear and head back tonight?"  Dean glanced up at him and smiled.


"Naw, we're tired, it was a whole lot of hurry up and wait. But we pulled out all the stops getting the damn thing out of there." Dean started the car and pulled into the lane of traffic. There were very few cars on the road, and they made it to the hotel fairly quickly. Dean pushed the door open.  There was something off in the feel of the room. Motioning to Sam he pulled the .45 out of his jacket and raked it around the interior. On the table beside the window sat his duffle bag, Dad's journal on the table beside it still opened to the page he had been reading. There was a box beside the journal, and it took Dean a few minutes to recognize it as a plastic thermal cooler- the kind that might hold a six-pack. Taped to the cooler was a note on hotel stationary, from the writing desk between the two beds. The words were scrawled on the crisp white paper in crimson ink. Dean supposed it was to make it look like blood. He picked up the note; it read "Have you talked to Johnny today, Deano?"


He flipped the page onto the table, and pulled the cooler over. Opening the lid his breath gushed out in one long exclaimed curse.  Inside the cooler floating in water and half melted ice was a fetus.  Dean's knees buckled. He staggered back, shins barking up against the chair leg. He fell heavily in the chair knocking it askew. 


Sam leaned over the cooler. "Oh shit," he cried out, and then carefully dipped his hand into the icy water. "It's a pig fetus, Dean--just a pig. You talked to him on the phone. He's okay, eating pizza even, in public--lots of people around."


Dean shook his head. "Get your stuff together, Sam. We're driving back tonight."



John tugged the pitcher of Coke over and filled his glass. He supposed he should go home, but it was only seven-thirty. He stood up stretching his back until it cracked then ambled over the jukebox. He dropped some coins in and the thrum of rock music hit the air. A pretty thirty-something woman was sitting in a corner booth and she smiled at him. John offered her a half hearted grin then went back to his table. He pulled the newspaper he had been reading over, leaning down. The silver chain around his neck slipped out of his tee-shirt and the amulet he wore swung into his line of vision. The thing was gaudy, almost gypsy-like. A silver pentagram with a large glass bead in the center hung on the chain. The bead was filled with rose-wood shavings, silver splinters, dog-wood petals and chips of bone from a relic, all suspended in holy water.  It would fend off damn near anything.


"Hi," a soft feminine voice pulled John's attention from the page. The young woman who had been sitting across the room was standing beside the table.  Without waiting for him to ask she slid out a chair and sat down. She smiled at him again. John sighed as she propped her arms on the table staring at him. "I think I've seen you here before." The rising lilt in her voice made it a question. "With those two cute younger guys, are they your sons?"


John grunted, at once relieved and annoyed that she was hitting on him to get to the boys. "The younger one is, the older one is my boyfriend." Boyfriend, he could have smacked himself on the head, that sounded lame to even him. She cocked an eyebrow at him.


"You live with your son and your boyfriend?" she grinned.  John pulled the paper over trying to ignore her and still be somewhat civil. Hell, just not telling her to fuck off was as civil as he really wanted to be, but they had to live here now.


”Yeah, we're a real progressive family."  Suddenly John glanced up. "How did you know I lived with them?"


"I just assumed, I mean, you three always come in here together." She leaned forward letting her hand wander across the table. Her fingers stopped just short of actually touching the amulet. "That's an interesting necklace."


"It's a good luck charm. Would you like to try it on?" He lifted the charm, trying to brush it against her hand. She drew back.  John began muttering under his breath, keeping his voice low and steady.


"Flamen Deus, phasmatis Deus Patris quod Deus Filius, Diligo Patris quod Filius, Divinus Diligo ut sustineo universum. Deus Omnipotens quod Omnipotens vos repleo partum per vestri Sanctus Presentia, audio meus votum in nomen Patris quod Filius, beatus mihi per vestri Diligo quod Pacis. In nomenea Patris, et Filius et Spiritus Sanctus."


Reaching into his pocket John tipped a small flask of holy water into his palm. The cap was just loose enough it splashed his skin.


The woman rose abruptly. "Well, there's no need to be rude about it. I was only asking about them…" She drew back, eyes flashing red in the warm overhead light. "It's only a matter of time, Johnny."


He reached out gently grasping her arm. She cringed as the holy water on his hand bit into her skin. "Don't run off, now. I'm sure the boys will be here in a while."


Aware of the fact that people were beginning to stare she pulled away. "No, I really have to run along." She tugged her arm free, and he could see the imprint of his palm burned into the pale flesh.  John smiled at her.


"We'll be around. I'll have them look in on you, real soon." He said cheerfully,

feigning a friendly wave. As she hastily disappeared out the door, John pulled out his cell phone again. Dean was too far away for him to call, but Bobby might be home. The phone rang three times and just as John was about to disconnect Bobby picked up. It practically killed him to mutter, "Bobby, I'm at the Pizza Hut in Lawrence. Can you come over here? I need your help."


Bobby's warm rich Southern accent, mellowed a bit by beer, filled the phone. "I'll be there in thirty, John-boy--just hang tight."


Bobby's truck pulled into the parking lot right on time. John was sitting at the table when he walked into the room. Pulling a chair out Bobby turned it around and straddled it.  "So you want to tell me what's going on?  You'd rather die a slow painful death than ask for help even from me, so why now?"


 "Just a minute, I really have to go take a leak." John stood up putting his hands behind him, and stretching. Bobby looked at the over sized tee-shirt pulled tight over John's abdomen. Suddenly the slight bulge seemed to take on new meaning.


"Holy shit, John!" Bobby snapped, and then lowered his voice to a whisper. He half rose out of the chair leaning forward.  "You're probably going to think I'm nuts, but are you pregnant?"


With a grunt John motioned to the bathroom door. Bobby waited drinking Coke out of John's glass until the other man came back. John settled in the chair, and then shrugged. "You're probably going to think I'm nuts, but yeah I am."


"So who… how?"


John scrubbed his hand over his face, "A demon did a little rearranging. It's some heavy duty black magic transmogrification spell. Old and really powerful one, too. Not to mention a little curse that goes with it."


"Sure you can't get rearranged without a curse, it's just not done, man. And the who… is it a demon?" Bobby looked intently at John. He flushed under the scrutiny.  Finally, John began to stammer out a reply when Bobby raised a hand. "So Dean finally grew a pair, and slipped it to you."


"Did everybody know about that but me?' John snapped. Bobby grinned at him.


"Oh, you didn't get the memo?"  Bobby chuckled at his own joke ignoring John's pained expression. "And these demons are on your tail, so you need a bodyguard until the boys get home."



Bobby was snoring softly on the sofa in the living room when the door swung open. He went from dead asleep to wide awake with a gun in hand before the figure standing in the doorway moved. Sam noticed the bulky form of his godfather swathed in blankets and pulled up short holding out his hands, "Bobby, man, its okay, its me and Dean."


Bobby dropped the gun, and rose from the couch. He moved swiftly and silently for so large a man, intercepting the boys at the door. Frowning he looked them over then held up a vial of holy water and ambergris. The liquid stayed clear and he finally relaxed.  "John told me you boys weren't coming in until tomorrow."


Dean pushed past him, pausing only for a moment to shake Bobby's hand. "Yeah, we didn’t think so either, but someone left us a message in the hotel room, and plans changed."


Bobby nodded, "Apparently John ran into a someone himself. That's why he called me, to run a little interference if need be."


Sam sighed, "Its getting to the point that we can't go on hunts. Not and leave Dad here alone. But we salted the doors and windows, so our someone was human--some minion or something. What about Dad?"


"No, the little lady had a real adverse reaction to Latin and holy water, so I'm thinking demon."


"Shit," Dean muttered. "It's getting to the point that we're damned if do and damned if we don't. But I can't see Dad staying locked in the house for the rest of his life."


Shrugging Bobby smiled. "Missouri got him a hell of a protection charm, rose-wood, silver, dog-wood petals, pieces of a saint's finger, holy water. The whole nine yards. They'd have a hell of time laying hands on him under all that."


"Unless they were human." Sam said groaning. "And they'll think of that given enough time. This baby had better be The Slayer, dude."


Dean turned to his brother frowning. "I don't care if she is or isn't. She's my kid, and he's, well, everything—so I don’t care what it takes."


"You boys had better hit the sack, it's late. We'll catch up in the morning." Bobby glanced at the clock. "Later in the morning, anyhow."


Sam stripped off his shirt and jeans, and flopped down on the bed. Sleep was elusive; he was tired but almost too tired to nod off. He could hear Bobby shuffling around on the sofa trying to get comfortable. And he could just make out the soft sounds of Dean trying to strip in the hall before going in to bed.


John was dead to the world. He was lying on his back right in the middle of the bed, snoring softly. His breath caught and he rolled onto one side hand creeping across the bed, searching the blank expanse even in his sleep. Dean felt the silly grin on his face. For all John's tough guy image he was soft-hearted, when it came to one of his kids. Dean couldn’t begin to count the times he and Sammy had double-teamed John and wriggled their way into getting what they wanted growing up. Half the time Dean could get his way all by himself, if manipulated John the right way. And he knew the right ways.


Dean felt a stab of shame at that thought; the idea that his father had fallen into this relationship, had even gotten pregnant by circumstances not of his choosing. John was a closed book emotionally, and while he never directly said to Dean that he didn’t want to continue the sexual part of their relationship, Dean felt that John still had reservations. Dean had no qualms about sin or wrongness he wanted what they had, but John never had been given a choice.


Lifting the blankets he slid into the bed. John grunted, raising his head, and smiled. "You boys decided to come back early."


"Hey, I couldn't stay away." John slid his body back until Dean was spooned up behind him.  "Are you really tired?" Dean whispered into John's hair. John chuckled; Dean could feel the muscles jumping in his back.


 "Not so much." John tilted his head back consulting the clock on the bedside table. "I've had about six hours sleep. You boys must have driven all night."


"Yeah, we split it up. So I grabbed a quick nap in the Impala." Dean leaned forward letting his lips trail over John's neck and back. "It's good to be home."


John rolled onto his back casually stroking a thumb across Dean's cheek. "You want to make love?"


"Like you wouldn't believe."  Leaning forward Dean pressed a kiss to the thin line of the older man's mouth. He could feel more than see John's smile. He licked John's lips open.  Sliding down he pressed a line of kisses across John's collarbone, stopping to nuzzle the thick bump where John's had broken it five years ago, and never had it set properly. He kissed passed various nicks and scars that his dad had accumulated over the years as well. His lips touched the tip of John's cock, but John laced his fingers through Dean's hair and pulled his head up.


"Dean, I wanted to ask you…uhm." John paused and Dean stoked his cock up and down once, John shuddered. "I wanted something, but I've never asked anyone, ever. I don't know why I've been thinking about it. I've never done it before, but I always wondered. You might not have ever done it either…"


"Is it a little kinky?" Dean asked grinning. Suddenly he lunged forward twisting his fingers around John's wrists forcing them to the bed. He squeezed, hard enough to hurt a little, and was rewarded by John's hips bucking up off the bed. John swallowed convulsively.  "Well hell, Sammy was right."  Dean snickered at the thought.


"Not that tonight, maybe later, but I want you to do me from behind."


"Doggy style, we've done that before."  Dean's voice was confused, and John was grateful for the darkness, and the fact that Dean couldn't see him stammering around like an idiot.  Suddenly Dean dropped his wrists. "You want it up the ass?"


"Not if you don't want…"


"Hell no, I'll do you anyway you like. I've got some rubbers and astroglide in my duffle bag. Just let me get something from the kitchen."


John sat up, his breath huffing out in a loud sigh. "You want to eat now?"


Dean disappeared out the door. In slightly panicked voice John hissed. "Dean, don't forget Bobby's in the living…"


Suddenly Bobby's rough drawl hit the air. "Shit, Dean. I didn't need to see that."



"Sorry, dude." Dean said over his shoulder, then the door swung shut and Dean hopped onto the bed.

"It's okay. Trust me on this; you're going to love this. At least the chick on the internet did."


"Internet… just what are you boys using that computer for?"


"Not the time or place, dude. Come here." Dean leaned in kissing John again. John slid his hands up Dean's arms, grasping his shoulders. Dean kissed down John's chest, stopping to suckle a swollen breast. The first time a few drops of clear fluid hit his tongue Dean had freaked out. Now he wanted it, and he was not disappointed.  Dropping lower he worshiped John's belly with fingers and tongue, then pushed his thighs open. John let out a hoarse growl when Dean's head dipped lower. Dean grinned.


 He'd never forget the sounds John had made the first time he had done this little favor for him. And he'd also never forget the fact that his dad given him the best blowjob he'd ever gotten in his entire life that night, too. John was pretty much incoherent at this point so Dean reached over squirting a dollop of lube on his fingers. He started with two, and John didn't even twitch. He slid both fingers in until he hit John's prostate, and his father made a sound that he had never heard come out of the man before.


"Oh god," John gasped. "I love this multiple orgasm thing."


"Yeah, well you're really going to love this then. Come on over and up on your knees."  Dean paused and rolled the condom on. John glanced at him.


"Is there a reason you need the rubber?"


Dean smiled at the pissy tone in John's voice. "Hey, don’t flip out on me. It's just cleaner this way."


"I won't even ask how you know that."  


Dean slid his hand down John's back, and tucked his hips into John's body. "


Take a deep breath and bear down." Then suddenly he was surrounded by a tight heat and it was perfect. John stiffened under him. "Breath, John. That's it. God this is so good. Are you okay?"


Dean pulled out then angled his thrust hitting John's prostate again. John jerked beneath him. "Holy shit, that's incredible."


"Yeah, bend down a little; I need to pick up something on the bed." John bent his elbows while Dean groped across the sheets, fingers seizing a small dark shape.  "Spread your legs a little and hold on."


"What is that?' John said through clenched teeth as Dean thrust in a bit harder still hitting John's prostate on every stroke.




"What?" John asked, then his voice died in his throat as Dean reached between his legs and slid the zucchini into his vagina.  John's thighs trembled and he cried out. Dean thrust once and John was coming again, everything letting go at once.


His knees gave, and John hit the bed face first, barely turning aside to avoid being suffocated by the pillows. Dean followed him down, still thrusting and flooded John's bowels with his seed.


Dean rolled over pulling out of his father's body. He picked a towel up and dropped it across John's chest.  "Oh man, that was hot. You're going to kill me if you keep pulling surprises like that one out of nowhere. Not that I'm complaining, but where did that come from?"


John mumbled then cleared his throat. "There was a gay porno film on cable last night. And they looked like they were having fun so I thought what the hell."


"You were watching gay porn on TV last night? You know that's what I like about you, Dad; you can be really open-minded when you want to be."


"Yeah, really open minded. You know what else I found out? I can get off from masturbating."


"So this is like a last fling before I go back to bunking with Sammy?" Dean asked bitterly. John caught him by the arm, pulling Dean down so that his head rested on John's shoulder."


. "Hell, no. Believe me orgasm is definitely better with your dick involved.  I have no complaints, and no intentions of giving this up. I'm in for the long run, Deano. I just thought you might want to watch, that's all."


Dean choked. "I don't know where this is coming from, but man, I'm liking it a whole lot."



Sam was sitting at the kitchen table in Missouri's house reading while Dean paced the length of the hall. Missouri was fussing around the kitchen and every now and then she would glance over at Dean and shake her head, making Tsking sounds. She winked at Sam. "From the way that boy acts, you’d think nobody ever had a baby in this world before."


Dean finally gave up and settled at the table across from Sam. "What do think is taking so long. Miss Darkhorse said she just wanted to check on Dad. But this is taking forever."


"She's got to check his weight, measure him and do some other things. She'll get done when she gets done. No point in trying to rush it."


"Actually, I kinda wanted to ask her about something. He's been acting a little odd lately." Dean said blushing. Missouri watched at the red stain that crept from the roots of his hair down the collar of his shirt.  She could guess how John had been acting.


"What do you mean by odd, honey? Maybe I can help you."


Dean cocked his head at Sam then took a deep breath. "It's just that he's been…well, horny. I mean really horny; last night he wanted…"


Sam flung his book on the table. "Dean, I really don't want to here about whatever perverted stuff you're doing to my dad, okay."


"Get bent, Sam, maybe if you'd get laid once in a while you wouldn't be this much of a prude."


"I am not a prude. I just don’t want to think about Dad having sex in any form whatsoever."


"He's seven months pregnant, Sam. That means he must have done it, at least once."


John appeared in the door followed by a diminutive elderly woman wearing jeans and a black and red plaid shirt. Her long gray hair was done up in a braid coiled around her head. Dean looked as if he might jump her at any moment. She smiled sitting down. "Everything is fine. I'm going to be dropping by every two weeks for a month and then once a week for the last two months. But they're both fine. As for what you were so indelicately discussing with your brother, its hormones. A sort of last hurrah for you and him before the baby comes, and your privacy and energy go. It's hard to think about sex when you haven't slept in three days."


John groaned and laid his head down on the table. "I thought that I was past all that kind of stuff."


"At least you have these two fine young men to help you out. You won't be alone."  Coloma said with a smile. Missy chuckled.


Dropping his book Sam pushed the chair back. "Two--how did I get drafted into this? At least Dean got something for his part in all this." He said frowning. "I'm getting screwed here, and not in the good way."





The house stood draped in shadow--a simple single story building surrounded by a stone wall. From the street there was nothing about the house that looked particularly frightening. The lawn was well maintained, hedges clipped neatly. For all intents and purposes the house was a simple family residence. Bobby Singer stood outside his truck just a few blocks down from the driveway leading into the house. Dean was seated in the truck, studying a simple black-line drawing of the floorplan of the house that Sam had printed off of the real estate agent's website.


Dean opened the door, and pushed the drawing out. "One door in the front, one in the back—easy in and out. It'll teach that bitch to mess around with me and mine."


Bobby frowned. "Look, Dean, I know she came after John, but don't let that mess with your head my man. She may not be alone. "


"Hey, the more the merrier, I always say." Dean pulled his .45 slamming in a clip loaded with silver tipped bullets.  He stepped out of the truck tucking a flask of holy water in one pocket and an extra clip for the gun in the other pocket. He handed a shot gun filled with rock salt out to Bobby. Bobby passed Dean a box, and he glanced down at it grinning in the moonlight. "Dude, I really like you, but not this much."


He tilted the box so that the soft light glinted off the Trojan's logo. Bobby grinned at him. "What have John-boy kick my ass--and even seven months pregnant he could still kick it, I don't think so. Actually, you fill them with holy water; they make a hell of a water balloon."


"You've got to be shitting me. Is putting holy water in condoms sacrilegious?"


Bobby grinned, "Hell if I know. They're thinner than regular balloons, and they break easier. No messing around when push comes to shove."


Shaking his head Dean patted the older man on the shoulder. "Only a mind like yours, or my dad, could come up with something like that."


Bobby grinned, "I'm going around the back, give me five minutes then kick in the front door."  He pulled his shirt sleeve up and checked his watch against Dean's. The younger man nodded.  They crept up the driveway to the front of the house. Bobby checked the fence to the backyard. It was dark, but there was enough moonlight to see that there were no dogs, or people moving around. Dean stooped over so that his shadow did not fall on the windows to the front rooms, then slid into the shadows draping the front door. He checked his watch as the minute hand ticked down. When five minutes had passed he reared back and kicked in the door.


The front rooms were minimally furnished, a sofa and several chairs. Dean sighed, no place to hide. Nothing stirred and Dean hurriedly crossed the room leaving the door open behind him. A light was on in a room down the hall. The door stood slightly ajar. Raising the gun Dean pressed his back against the wall, and slid down the hallway to the door. He just made out the corner of a bed, and a dresser. On the dresser top was a laptop computer. Bobby appeared at the far end of the hall, and assured that he had backup, Dean kicked the bedroom door open.


A willowy brunette was sitting in a chair by the window. She turned to the door smiling. "Hello, Dean. Why am I not surprised to see you here? Get my message."


"Yeah, I got your message, bitch. Here's an answer."


He raised the gun, and she cocked her head. Pausing ever so slightly Dean watched her face, her eyes flicked to the side, towards the end of the hall opposite the way he and Bobby had come in. A door slammed open, and Dean jerked the gun around. A figure appeared in the doorway, tall and bulky. He took two steps forward and Dean slid out of the door, moving back. The demon rose from her chair grabbing a knife from the dresser.


Dean smoothly sidestepped the knife, moving toward his opponent. The man was caught off guard for a moment, then swung a huge fist. The gun jumped in Dean's hand and his attacker was flung back, hitting the wall. The demon stepped out of the bedroom knife aimed for Dean's back.


Bobby jumped forward tossing one of his "water balloons" in her face. The demon writhed screaming as the holy water splashed over her. Face smoking she still made one last try for Dean, but Bobby tossed a second balloon and the smell of rotting flesh hit the air.  Most of the holy water missed the demon soaking the leg and rear of Dean's pants. He flinched, jerking the gun around and firing one round into the woman's half decomposed face. Dark tissue and black fluid jetted out spraying the wall.


Raking a hand over the seat of his jeans, Dean frowned at Bobby. "Dude, thanks for the shower." He grinned. "And thanks for watching my back."


"No problemo, kid. That's one more for our side."


"It's going to be a bitch trying to burn 'em without attracting attention. The house is far enough away from anything else in the neighborhood. So let's just light 'em up. We'll call the fire department from your truck."


"Drag her out her in the living room. I'll take this guy."


In a few minutes both bodies had been laid on the carpet in the living room. Dean pushed the chairs out of the way, and pulled a bag of salt out of his pocket. He and Bobby salted both bodies, then Dean stood guard while Bobby collected the gas can from the backyard. They kept the fire as small as possible, and headed to the door. They stood watching as the fire leapt around the still figures, until the bodies collapsed in on themselves. Once they were back at the truck Bobby called 911.






Tags: fiction het, fiction other, fiction slash, wip

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