OhSam Triple Play 2015!

[ohsam-mod.livejournal.com]

The comm hosted this little event a couple of years ago, and as November 2 is an auspicious day for our darling Sam, today would be the perfect time to revisit this challenge. Welcome to the Triple Play 2015!





BOOST THE SIGNAL

<center><a href="http://ohsam.livejournal.com/845164.html"><img src="http://i127.photobucket.com/albums/p125/quickreaver/TriplePlayBanner_zps5764ce43.jpg"></a></center>


And here's how we play!

Step One (mandatory): Write a three-part prompt.
1.) Pick a setting
2.) Pick an additional character or characters (Sam is assumed, naturally.)
3.) Pick an H/C scenario, with Sam as the focus. Other characters can share the misery, but Sam should get the brunt of it. That's how we roll. :D

You can make as many prompts as your little heart desires, one set per comment, but it would probably work best if kept simple. For instance: 1.) the Impala 2.) Dean 3.) a hangover, or 1.) autumn 2.) Rowena 3.) a curse.

Step Two (optional): Participants can choose to make visual art: create a drawing, painting, photomanip, or video based around an offered prompt set. All three points must be addressed. The art can be doodled or extravagantly detailed, artist’s choice. And, of course, Sam should be the primary focus of the h/c. Please reply with your art under the prompt you choose, and either put the art beneath a cut or supply a link to it, with appropriate header and warnings! (See "Posting Guidelines" in the left sidebar.) As subject lines are no more, please begin your fills with the word FILLED and a TITLE in BOLD.

Step Three (optional): Participants could also choose to write a ficlet, again with Sam as the primary victim of our dastardly h/c scenarios. (No minimum or maximum word count is required; just go where the muse takes you, as long or short as you'd like.) Again, please reply with your fic under the chosen prompt set, using the appropriate header and warnings. (See "Posting Guidelines" in the left sidebar.) As subject lines are no more, please begin your fills with the word FILLED and a TITLE in BOLD.

If more than one author or artist wants to work with the same prompt, have at it! The ideal goal is to make a Triple Play, where a prompt set gets both art and fic – the art potentially inspiring the fic or the fic inspiring the art. But no matter how it's sliced, we get lots of delicious Sammy h/c! Have all the fun … at Sam’s expense. ;)

The usual courtesies apply:
→ If you notice that your fic is not on the master list after a decent amount of time (say, three days), please poke us in a PM. We might have missed it.
→ Anon posting enabled.
→ NO SPOILERS FOR UNAIRED EPISODES.
→ Play nice - no flaming and no character bashing, period. Any comments that break this rule will be deleted without warning.
→ Feedback is catnip for writers. Leave some author-love!
→ No spam comments.
→ Contact one of the mods if you have a question.
→ Spread the Sam love - pimp this meme!



MASTERLIST

Sick City by fireheart13
1.) Las Vegas
2.) Dean
3.) Gall stones

Better Than Trick or Treat by septembers_coda
1. town of 200 people
2. john
3. parasite

What's in a Job by cherry916
1. the bunker
2. a service dog
3. PTSD

Hour of Darkness by amypond45
1. Squatting in an abandoned building.
2. Mary.
3. Fever dream.

Twist in the Wind by thursdaysisters
1.) the bottom of a ravine
2.) the ghost of Sarah Blake
3.) broken bones

Untitled by caranfindel
1. The bunker (maybe a newly discovered part?)
2. Dean
3. Impaled

It's Gotta Be a Hex by tarotgal
1. Crappy motel room
2. Dean and John
3. Strep throat

We Shall Gather at the River by crowroad3
1. Monument Valley
2. Dean
3. Staked out in the burning sun

Break No Bones by milly_gal
a) Bobby's panic room
b) Bobby and/or Dean
c) broken leg

What You Don't Know (Can Kill You) by center_galaxy
1. A foggy deserted road.
2. Jess
3. Car accident.

Bleed by hugglewolf
1) The Bunker
2) Cas
3) Sam wakes up wounded and weak from blood loss on the floor of the Bunker—with no memory of how he got there, how he got hurt, or where Dean is.

Tornado Warning by ameliacareful
1.) Setting: somewhere flat and Midwestern
2.) Other character: Dean
3.) H/C scenario: tornado related injuries

(Art) Untitled by cassiopeia7
1. pacific northwest
2. dean
3. drowning

West of Omaha by laughablelament
1) the lonesome highway
2) Dean & whoever's in the trunk
3) feverish magic-induced flashbacks

It's Gotta Be The Pie by tarotgal
1.) the bunker in the middle of the night
2.) Dean
3.) stomach flu

Stone Number One by caranfindel
1. Bobby's
2. Hallucifer
3. Psychotic episode that doesn't seem to want to end

(Art) Vatican Prison by amberdreams
1) Vatican jail cell
2) Dean
3) stigmata

It's Gotta Be At Least 200 Stairs by tarotgal
1. fire escape
2. Dean
3. permanent limp

Remember by soserendipity
1. A cornfield at night.
2. Dean.
3. Bleeding out.

Surf's Up by firesign10
1) The beach
2) Jess
3) Kelpie attack

Can We Call It Bob? by soserendipity
1. Hanging off the ledge of a bridge/tall building
2. Dean
3. Dislocation

Cor Unum by crowroad3
1) the bunker
2) Dean
3) heart condition

The Forest at Night by thursdaysisters
1) Car accident
2) John
3) Head Injury

I Can Move Forward Looking Back by hugglewolf
1) A hunt
2) A hunter (one we've met, or a new one)
3) PTSD

To Sleep, Perchance to Dream by center_galaxy
1.) Stanford
2.) Brady
3.) Chronic insomnia

The Definition of Insanity by center_galaxy
1. The Impala
2. Dean
3. Gunshot wound to the gut

In the Woodsman's Cottage by thursdaysisters
1.) Setting: a forest
2.) Other character: Bobby
3.) H/C scenario: bear trap

Shaken by cowboyguy
1. A laundromat
2. Dean
3. Trying to heal from a bad fight while trying to wash blood out of their clothes

It's Gotta Be a Plane This Time? by tarotgal
1) Airport security gate
2) Dean
3) bullet wound

Trapped by cowboyguy
1. tunnels
2. Dean
3. mutism/voice loss

Cold as Ice by indiachick
1.) Byberry Mental Hospital
2.) Dean
3.) botched lobotomy

The Source of All Sorrows by center_galaxy
1.) Hospital
2.) Charlie
3.) coma

Draconids by crowroad3
1.) High school
2.) EMTs
3.) Fever

Like a Rock by caranfindel
1.) middle of nowhere
2.) Baby
3.) dislocated shoulder

Dead River by crowroad3
1. Impala
2. The ghost of a loved one
3. Poisoned

Broken Memories by cherry916
1) motel room
2) Jody Mills
3) head injury/concussion

Hidden by hugglewolf
1. backwoods
2. castiel
3. buckshot

Empty Hearts by center_galaxy
1.) Hospital
2.) Charlie
3.) Panic attack

Unsettled by cowboyguy
1.) the bunker in the middle of the night
2.) Dean
3.) stomach flu

Splintered by themegalosaurus
1. THE BUNKER
2. DEMON!DEAN
3. HAMMER

Fingerprint by anonymous
1. Impala
2. Dean
3. touch starvation

It's Gotta Be Four in the Morning by tarotgal
1. Roadhouse
2. Ellen
3. Respiratory illness

Bitter and Sick by indiachick
1. Setting is author's choice
2. Dean
3. Forced/tricked into ingesting demon blood

words like glass by anonymous
1.) Camp Chitaqua, post-apocalypse
2.) Dean, Stoner Cas
3.) disfigurement, mutism

Feathers and Claws by themegalosaurus
1) Decrepit old building
2) A priest
3) Demonic possession

Maleficus by crowroad3
1. Field at night
2. Witch doctors
3. Blood-letting

Sup by hugglewolf
1) A grassy field at night
2) Castiel
3) Poison

It's Gotta Be a Damn Ghost by tarotgal
1. A busy bar in Stanford
2. Jess/Brady/Becky/Zach/Luis (any or all!)
3. Beaten up (bruises, bloody nose, scrapes, or maybe even a broken bottle to the head/body!)

Somewhere, Beyond the Sea by center_galaxy
1) Somewhere watery
2) Dean
3) Amnesia

Dis(connected) by center_galaxy
1) On the end of a phone
2) Bobby or Castiel
3) Blood loss, in and out of consciousness

It's Gotta Be a Day and a Half Now by tarotgal
1.) Singer Salvage scrap yard
2.) Bobby
3.) exhaustion

Placebo by anonymous
1) the woods
2) Dean
3) bitten by a snake

Hiss by cowboyguy
1) the woods
2) Dean
3) bitten by a snake

Across the clouds I see my shadow fly by caranfindel
1) Coffee shop or Diner
2) Employee of said establishment
3) Gun shot wound

Check It Out by themegalosaurus
1. MOL Bunker
2. Dean (and/or Charlie, Cas, or Kevin)
3. A curse involving plaid shirts or plaid in general (you're screwed, Sammy! Will they figure it out?)

The End of the World (and Back Again) by harrigan
1. A boathouse
2. Dean
3. Permanent physical disability (knee/hip/leg etc)

If Only by foolscapper
1. Hell, the cage
2. Castiel
3. hallucinations

Bitten (art) by foolscapper
1.) zombie infested suburbia
2.) Dean, Bobby
3.) bitten

Play It Again, Sam by caranfindel
1) A hospital
2) Dr Cara Roberts
3) Axe wound(s) to the upper body

The Mustard Seed by kettle_o_fish
1. Out on a case
2. Dean
3. Sam develops minor healing powers (not angel-level resurrection or demon killing, more like curing lesser illnesses, fixing broken bones, moderate wounds, etc). However, each time he helps someone, there's a drain on his own health/strength. Dean wonders if it's worth the toll it takes on Sam.

Comments

[ameliacareful.livejournal.com]

The salt and burn went easy, the ghost appeared, a man in a suit standing in the grass but he crackled in the electricity of the early night and didn’t attack. Dean fired a salt blast through him anyway. Sam dropped the lit matchbook and the bones lit blue and yellow in the too still air. He’d thrown his jacket and his shirt over a gravestone, and dug in just his t-shirt, the air was so close.

“Feels like weather,” Dean said, looking up again at the night sky.

Sam may not have grown up in Kansas but he had spent enough time on the plains to know what Dean meant. Somewhere out there was a storm. The sky above them was the deep green of a bruise. Tornado weather. It was as if he could feel the air pressure dropping, a great storm cloud turning above them. He stuck his shovel in the dirt, time to fill the grave and finish this up.

Then the wind started coming up and he could smell the coming rain.

“Screw this,” Dean said. “It’s gonna come down in buckets.”

They ran for the Impala but the rain came sheeting in a wall, chasing across the grass behind them, catching and passing them long before they got to the road. The engine could barely be heard over the pound of the rain. Dean drove slow, the wipers unable to keep up with the onslaught. Sam found a radio station calling out Oklahoma counties under tornado warning. Beckham, Greer, Washita, Kiowa.

“They should just say all of them,” Sam said.

Small branches battered Baby. Sam watched Dean’s face, lit by the dashboard. The car lurched and Dean yanked her back onto the blacktop. “Sorry Baby,” he said. Glancing at Sam, “No shoulder.” What he didn’t say was that he couldn’t see well enough to stay on the road.

Up ahead was the blur of gas station lights where the blacktop met the highway. “Wait out the burst?” Sam suggested.

Dean hesitated.

“Gas station hotdogs with nacho cheese sauce? We can pick up beer,” Sam said.

“You’re trying to bribe me with hotdogs?” Dean said.

“And bad burritos,” Sam said.

Dean swung the Impala into the lot.

#

Inside they weren’t the only people stranded by the storm. About a dozen people were gathered around the register watching a television monitor mounted overhead where a tired looking weatherman was calling out sightings and urging everyone in the storm’s path to take cover.

Sam looked around. Two sides of the building were glass. Dean was doing the same thing. He looked at quirked his eyebrows in a way that said, ‘we are so screwed.’ Sam agreed.

Then the weatherman said, “We have a touchdown sighted near Hobart, around Highway 9 and Highway 283,” and everybody got still. The girl in the green and yellow uniform standing at the register actually covered her mouth with her hand. She was just a kid, early twenties, and her training had obviously not covered natural disasters. Everybody else fell silent.

“Is there a beer cooler room or a basement or an office with no windows?” Sam said, raising his voice. He knew they were on Highway 9 and he was pretty sure they weren’t far from Highway 283 from the way people reacted.

“There’s a beer cooler and an office,” the girl said.

“How big is the cooler?” Dean asked. Everyone pivoted towards Dean. Coolers were insulated, reinforced rooms. “Big enough for all of us?”

“I…I think,” the girl said.

“OKAY,” Dean said, “LET’S MOVE.” To the register girl he said, “Hey—” he leaned over and read her name tag, “Carla, you want to hit the Emergency Shut Off for the pumps?”

“I don’t think I’m supposed to do that unless it’s a real emergency,” she said.

Dean flashed her a smile that would melt the heart of the wicked witch of the west. “Sweetheart, a tornado is kind of an emergency.”

[ameliacareful.livejournal.com]

She bit her lip and reached down and pushed something. Dean gestured for her to lead the way.

“Why the cooler?” a guy asked.

“No windows, reinforced,” Sam said. He brought up the rear, herding.

“Won’t we effing suffocate?” a middle-aged woman asked. She was, Sam noted with amusement, smoking.

“It’s got a handle on the inside,” the girl said. No one was moving fast. Civilians were mind-boggling.

The rain had slowed. Sam glanced over his shoulder as everyone shuffled towards the back of the store. A car pulled into the lot, stopping at the pumps. He heard a sound like a train. Not so good. A girl in jeans got out and looked out into the dark.

He had it in his head that when you heard a tornado—and the classic description was sounding like a freight train—you had less than a minute to get to shelter. Already he was counting seconds in his head.

“Get them in, Dean,” he called and ran out the front door.

Outside he could hear the sound and feel it in his chest six…seven...eight…

The girl by the car look a little startled to see a big guy running up to her but he just grabbed her arm. “It’s coming,” he said, “Come on.”

She resisted his pull for just a second. She was little, Asian. The gas station was empty when he pulled the door open, seventeen…eighteen…Dean must have gotten them herded in. The sound was louder.

Dean appeared at the door in the back. “Sam!”

All the lights went out in the store, the electricity had gone out. The girl stopped, startled.

“It’s okay, we gotta keep going,” Sam said. He pulled her gently forward.

“SAM!”

It no longer sounded like a freight train, it was louder, like a jet engine or something. The door swinging shut cut the sound down. Maybe it would miss them or skip them.

“Keep talking!” Sam called.

“TO MY VOICE, SAM, KEEP COMING!” and then a flashlight beam. Dean had had his flashlight in his pocket. Sam pulled the girl around in front of him and picked up his pace, able to see where the aisles were—

The glass wall behind him blew in, his ears popped, the wind was like the inside of a turbine. Sam curled around the girl, her head under his chin, wrapping his arms around her. The glass wall on his right shattered and then it was like being inside of an amusement park ride without being strapped down. He had the sense of being tossed around but it didn’t feel the way it did when something magical did it. It felt more like falling or, well, natural. Things were hitting his back and his head and the backs of his legs. He was falling and he turned as best he could not to land on the girl, who didn’t need 6’5” of big sweaty guy landing on her.

Then something was on them. Blinding rain driven into them so hard that it hurt and a strange feeling of airlessness.

The sound was receding. He could breathe. He felt dazed.

Tornado Warning 3

[ameliacareful.livejournal.com]

For a moment he just lay there in the warm air, listening to the beat of his heart in his ears.

“You okay?” he asked the girl tucked in his arms and his voice sounded as if he had his fingers in his ears. He couldn’t tell what was laying on top of him.

She answered something he couldn’t hear. He swallowed and his ears popped. “Don’t move for a moment, okay?” he said loudly, although he still sounded muted. He wondered if he’d ruptured his eardrums.

He slowly loosened his hold. The girl moved a little in his arms.

As best he could figure out part of the roof was laying half on them, partly held up by debris so they hadn't been crushed but he felt tangled and trapped. “Are you okay?” he asked again loudly.

“Yeah,” she said and he could tell she was raising her voice so he could hear.

“Can you wiggle your toes? Does your head or neck or back hurt?”

“I can move everything,” she said.

He braced his shoulder against whatever was on them and then felt everything start hurting. He could lift part of the slab of whatever four or five inches. “Can you climb out?”

She wiggled out between his arms and he heard her sliding on debris. “Ow!” she said.

“You okay?!”

“There’s glass everywhere,” she said. “I cut my hand a little but I’m okay. I can’t hear so good. It’s like after a concert.”

“Me, too,” he said.

“Can you get out?” she said.

He could move everything but he didn’t think he could pull out of the wreckage without help and he could feel blood running on his leg. “Not yet,” he said. “Have you got a phone? Call 911 and tell them there are people trapped here.”

“Oh!” she said and after a moment her face lit up with the glow of her phone, shining in the rain.

#

RE: Tornado Warning 4

[ameliacareful.livejournal.com]

“SAMMY!”

His ears were still ringing but his hearing was better. “DEAN!”

The girl’s name was Suong Minh but mostly she went by Sue. She was eighteen and a senior in high school and was coming home from babysitting. Sam had kept her talking to keep her calm: emergency services were somewhat overloaded. She called her parents but they were stuck in their neighborhood by fallen trees. Lying still he hurt but not too bad (okay, his definition of too bad was probably not the average definition of too bad) but something was seriously going on because he was getting wonky. Sue turned on her phone so the screen was lit and waved it for Dean. “He’s here! He’s stuck!”

He was stupidly, irrationally grateful to see Dean, who had a scrape on his forehead but otherwise looked good. “How did you get out?” he asked.

“The roof is still held up by the back wall, like a lean to,” Dean said. “We just had to dig our way out.” Dean flicked the flashlight over the area. “Roof is not your best look.” He crouched and tried to shine the light under. “Are you pinned? Can you feel everything?”

“Feel everything way too well,” Sam said. “This is Sue. Sue, this is my brother, Dean. Are you okay?

“You’re the one under a roof. I’m fine.”

“Did you check the car?”

“Right, I’m going to check the car before I check you. Sue, can you hold this flashlight so I can move some of this?” Dean pulled some of the wreckage aside.

Sue stood holding the flashlight. A couple of more people trickled around. They were all soaked.

“Anything feel broken?” Dean said.

“No,” Sam said. “Not for certain.”

“He saved me,” Sue said to no one in particular.

“Yeah,” Dean said, sounding a little irritated, “he’s like that. Dale, can you help me lift this? Sam, you think you can move if we get this lifted off you?”

“I’ll let you know,” Sam said.

It was hard to read expressions in the light of the flashlight but Dean’s was a pretty clear, really?

“One, two, three,” Dean said and they lifted, grunting, and the chunk of roof came up about a foot.

Holy crap did it hurt when it did and Sam’s vision threatened to go black. He tried to elbow out, and felt hands pulling him. Then Dean going, “Whoa, whoa, whoa!” There was a clunk and he was being lifted by lots of people (of course lots of people, it took lots of people, Dean was going to make comments about his size any moment now.) Someone was saying ‘oh my God’ over and over again. Then he was on clear pavement. Someone was holding his right leg, keeping it off the ground. It didn’t feel broken but it felt cut up.

Sam tried to sit up, saw white specks and felt hands pushing him down. “Lie still, Sammy,” Dean said.

“Messed up, huh?” Sam said. Dean was sounding preternaturally calm. No jokes. That meant he was worried.

“You’ve just got some glass in your leg.”

RE: Tornado Warning 5

[ameliacareful.livejournal.com]

Sam closed his eyes and took deep breaths until his head felt clearer. When he opened his eyes again, Dean was looking down at him, visible in flashlight. “Sue called 911,” Sam said. Then he raised his head. His boot as sitting on a chunk of wood so his leg was raised and there was a long shard of glass sticking out of his thigh. Which was weird because it was the back of his thigh that hurt. Just some glass in his leg. Right. “Dean? Is it all the way through?”

“Yep,” Dean said. “And it’s going to stay there until the professionals pull it out.” He was pulling his belt through his belt loops.

“Good plan,” Sam said, feeling a little sick. Pull it out and he’d probably bleed like a drinking fountain. At least it wasn’t near the femoral artery.

“Next time, you lead everybody to the promised land,” Dean said. He looped his belt around Sam’s thigh above the shard.

“The promised land?” Sam said.

“Dude, it was a beer cooler.” Dean pulled the belt tight into a makeshift tourniquet and Sam gasped. “I’m gonna go find some Gatorade in that mess. Stay here.”

“Check the Impala,” Sam managed.

#

The good news was that the Impala had been parked next to one of the non-glass walls and other than some scratches, a flat tire, and a blown out back window was in good shape. The Gatorade Dean found was clear for which Sam was grateful. Dean’s preference was for the blue stuff. Sam considered it a color not found in nature. Although honestly, in the dark, he wasn’t sure it mattered. Once the storm had passed the temperature dropped. Not a lot, but down from the pre-storm humid stillness. Lying on the wet pavement in wet clothes was cold.

“Sam?” asked Sue, “Can I take a picture of your leg? Is that tacky?”

“No,” Sam said. “It’s okay. Just can you make sure no one can tell who I am?”

“Okay. I hate to have my picture taken, too.”

Sam did kind of hate to have his picture taken but mostly it was just habit. No photos of his face in the media.

Time was starting to move in little jumps. He’d close his eyes, open them, have the sense that he’d missed a chunk.

Dean knelt down and took his wrist, searching for pulse. Sam knew he was breathing too fast. Everything felt a little too far away. “How you doing,” Dean asked.

“Just don’t ask me to dance,” Sam said.

“Have you seen you dancing? It’s kind of scary.” Dean pulled his other foot up on the wood so both feet were elevated. “I’m giving them another thirty minutes and then I’m putting you in the back seat of the Impala and heading for a hospital.”

RE: Tornado Warning 6

[ameliacareful.livejournal.com]

“How long has it been?” Sam asked.

“Almost two hours.”

“Time’s jumping,” Sam said. “Like with Gadreel.”

He heard Dean’s sharp intake of breath.

“Sorry,” Sam said. “Kind of out of it.”

“It’s okay,” Dean said quietly and there was a hand on his forehead. “Just rest, okay?”

He closed his eyes again and Dean was saying, “Sam. Sammy.” He opened his eyes and red lights were splashing across everything, the sound of an EMT truck bouncing over the curb. “Sam? Come on little brother. Eyes here.”

Sam blinked at Dean. “Shock,” he tried to say but no sound came out.

“Took you long enough,” Dean growled at someone.

“There’s an entire subdivision that’s just basically matchsticks and trees down blocking the roads", said a woman’s voice. An EMT leaned over him and said, “Hi, can you tell me your name?” She had blond hair pulled back in a pony tail and looked so clean and dry.

“Sam,” he said and this time sound came out. “No medications or…allergies.”

“Well, Sam no medications or allergies, you know the drill. Are you in the health profession?”

He shook his head. “Accident prone,” he said.

He heard Dean laugh and felt his brother squeeze his hand. “You have no idea,” Dean said.

“This is a pretty impressive accident,” the EMT said.

“He saved me!” Sue said from behind him where he couldn’t see, sounding very young.

The EMT put a blood pressure cuff on him. “I’m Patty. Base, I’ve got a thirty-three year old male with a puncture wound through the right thigh and multiple abrasions. Blood pressure 90 over 78, tachycardic, patient is cold and clammy. He’s got a shard of glass going all the way through his leg. Going to need a surgeon.” To Dean, “How long ago, during the tornado?”

“Yeah,” Dean said. “I’ve been giving him Gatorade.”

“That’s smart.”

“Like he said, he’s prone to accidents.”

Sam lifted his hand (which was somehow incredibly heavy) and gave Dean the finger.

The EMT laughed. “Patient is responsive. Preparing to transport.”

“I’ll be there, Sam,” Dean said. “I’m coming with the Impala. We’ll get you fixed up.”

RE: Tornado Warning 7

[ameliacareful.livejournal.com]

They were back at the Bunker three days later. Castiel had healed the post-op. “This freaking long,” Dean explained, holding up his hands.

“It was not,” Sam said. “Every time you tell it, it gets longer. It’s like a fishing story.” He preferred not to think about it.

“What’s a fishing story?” Cas asked. He was sitting at the table with Sam while Dean leaned against the counter.

“When fisherman tell stories about catching fish, every time they tell the story, the fish gets bigger,” Sam said, showing with his hands. He went back to his laptop. There was still news of the aftermath of the tornadoes all over the Internet. He clicked on a link about Hobart, hoping he could show Cas where they were. People survive in beer cooler or something.

There was his leg. And the freaking piece of glass.

“What’d you find,” Dean asked. He came behind Sam. “I WAS RIGHT! THERE IT IS!” It was Sue’s photo. The headline was NO DEATHS THREE INJURED IN HOBART and under it, Sam’s leg. Dean was ecstatic. “Look at the size of that, Cas! Did I exaggerate?”

Cas studied the photo while Sam cringed. “No, you did not. That looks very painful, Sam.”

Dean shrugged, “He was in shock most of the time. I was hoping they’d give him the piece of glass. You know, like they used to give people their tonsils in a little jar.”

“Thanks, Cas. It actually hurt a lot,” Sam said.

And Dean had been worried but you’d have to know Dean to know it. Sam knew. He remembered Dean’s hand on his forehead. He remembered Dean telling him to rest.

Sometimes, though, Sam wished Dean would show it just a little better.

Fin

(Apologies: I can't clear my throat in less than 5,000 words.)

RE: Tornado Warning 7

[crowroad3.livejournal.com]

Ah man, great pacing, so great. Voices so great, from Dean's looks like weather to Sam's bad burritos. Felt the dropping pressure, heard the counties, heard that they should just say them all; oh, man, felt Sam's shocky pain.
The natural as much a threat as the supernatural, yeah. You've been in this landscape, I know; I feel it.
So great!

P.S. I wish I could clear my throat in more than 500 words, heh.

RE: Tornado Warning 7

[caranfindel.livejournal.com]

This is SO GOOD. Sounds like you've lived in Tornado Alley. ;)

RE: Tornado Warning 7

[madebyme-x.livejournal.com]

Wonderful fic! This was tense and edge of seat entertainment! The pacing was perfect, and I loved your OCs and how you captured Sam losing time as he slowly went into shock.

Plus, I really enjoyed all the tornado safety information. Awesome fic! Thank you for sharing :)

RE: Tornado Warning 7

[soserendipity.livejournal.com]

I love this! I have a thing for the boys battling the elements, I feel like I must have read all the natural catastrophy fics there are. But this combines so many things I like, it reads like something special - badass Sam and Dean, protective big brother mode, hurt and comfort, the boys in a true pickle, the boys actually receiving thanks for what they do, and a tornado on top. And Sam loving the Impala. And Dean loving Sam more than the Impala. And, guh, everything. Wonderful story, well done!

[thursdaysisters.livejournal.com]

Nah don't complain about word length this was a fun read, moved right along and I loved the little details :-D

RE: Tornado Warning 7

[laughablelament]

So much to love here, but Sue really stands out. Teenage girl with a cell phone, "he saved me" like a prayer. Oh, and I laughed right out loud when the EMT called Sam's middle finger responsive. Gold.

RE: Tornado Warning 7

[chaos-slave.livejournal.com]

I loved this story, frighteningly realistic of a tornado!

RE: Tornado Warning 7

[semirah.livejournal.com]

Gorgeous! I liked all the little details and the life you gave the side characters. I loved that Sam flipping Dean off was responsive enough for the EMT. I LOVE the last line. Oh, Sam. Me, too.

And I found it sweet and so true to character that Sam would stop and explain what a fishing story was to Cas.

RE: Tornado Warning 7

[quickreaver.livejournal.com]

Fantastic! Never apologize for length; it was exactly right.

RE: Tornado Warning 7

[cowboyguy.livejournal.com]

This was awesome! I loved all of the little details - the sheet of rain chasing them to the car, Sam's aversion to blue Gatorade, the subdivison of matchsticks and tree debris, the fishing story. I love that both of them think to ask for people's names in an emergency, because that's just the kind of guys they are, keeping things under control and trying to help. I loved Sam's "no medications or allergies" bit, and Dean being pissed at the EMTs but then immediately helpful and concerned again. And, oh man, Sam's spotty vision and slow-build pain and the realization that it's worse than he thought. Fantastic job!

RE: Tornado Warning 7

[reggie11.livejournal.com]

That was awesome! We don't really get tornadoes in Australia, only teeny tiny ones, so I'm always fascinated by tornado stories. I was a bit thrown by the town name, Hobart is the capital city of Tasmania. Great pacing and characterisation. You nailed their voices perfectly.

Re: RE: Tornado Warning 7

[ameliacareful.livejournal.com]

Hobart, Australia! I never even thought of that! You guys don't have regular tornadoes but do have fire tornadoes once in awhile. http://youtu.be/s1dH0zyzl0I

It's also a real town in western Oklahoma. I picked it randomly. :)

RE: Tornado Warning 7

[themegalosaurus.livejournal.com]

I LOVED THIS SO HARD. the tone of it was so spot on, the understatedness of sam's approach to the whole thing; the picture of the glass in his leg and dean's glee and sue's refrain 'he saved me'. i really, really enjoyed it. a lot. i'll be saving it (and reccing it) for sure.

RE: Tornado Warning 7

[ameliacareful.livejournal.com]

Thank you so much! Sue is based on some of my Asian women students who seem to be very concerned with credit being given where credit is due. And Dean's glee is well, you know, Dean.

RE: Tornado Warning 7

[madame-naan.livejournal.com]

Oh wow, this is wonderful! I loved the all the little character details. And as I've never experienced anything remotely like a tornado, all that stuff was fascinating (and scary).