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Catch My Fall - Fan fic

Title: catch my fall, part 1
Author: bodgei
Disclaimer: Sam and Dean aren’t mine, I’m just giving them the * relatively * normal life they deserve. They belong to any number of people now. I’m not making any money off this. ‘catch my fall’ belongs to Billy Idol.
Summery: Kate is woken in the night. And she has news for her husband.
Authors note: Part of the ‘Ten Years Gone’ storyline. All are married here, and I believe Dean’s daughter has been born, or soon will be. Don’t ask me what they were hunting, no one told me.

I've traveled and unwound my own truth yeah
I've laid my head on the rock of youth yeah
I’ve trusted and then broken my own word
Just to keep me free in this mad, mad word

It could happen to you so think for yourself

If I should stumble
Catch my fall yeah
If I should stumble
Catch my fall
Catch my fall

~Billy Idol

It’s two in the morning when the phone rings. It’s not that odd, when Sam is away he often calls in the middle of the night.

“I love you,” I answer the phone, rolling over on my back, “How was the Hunt? Are you coming home soon?” There is a long pause and suddenly I’m frightened.

“Ummm...” It’s Dean’s voice that comes down the phone line and I know something is wrong, “It’s Sam – he’s hurt.”

I don’t know how I get to the hospital where Sam is being treated. It seems like I’m on the phone with Dean most of the way, the phone bill is going to be astronomical. I get to the hospital around eight, and find the waiting room fairly quickly. Dean obviously hasn’t slept, but he smiles at me over his cup of coffee. There is a second cup next to him, I wonder if it is for me, or if he’s just stocking up. He stands and comes to me.

“It’s gonna be OK,” Dean says in that forced cheerful voice he uses when he’s worried. He hugs me tight, “Sam’s in recovery, they just came out a little while ago.” Dean smells of Hunt- lighter fluid, burning salt and something I can never quite identify. It’s just Hunt Smell.

“What happened?” I ask into Dean’s shoulder.

“He was shot.”

“Sam was shot?”

“In the chest.”

“And he’s going to be OK?” it seems unlikely.

“Yeah,” his arm is still around me as he guides me to the chairs, “He’s going to be just fine. I promise.”

I have so many questions I want to ask. But I can’t ask them, not here. I can’t ask about the Hunt they were on. I can’t ask the how or the why of anything. Not now. Not here. Not ‘til Sam’s OK. I’m shaking all over and I feel hot and sticky. I’m going to be sick.

“Dean?” how I’m feeling must show on my face, because Dean points down an empty corridor.

“To the left,” he says.

I bolt down the hallway and burst into the first restroom I come to. I barely make it into the stall before I puke. Then Dean is behind me offering damp towels. I take them gratefully and wipe my mouth.

“You done?” he asks.

I nod weakly.

“You know you’re in the men’s room?”

“I didn’t much care,” I mumble, resting my head on the closest thing that I don’t think is too icky. It happens to be Dean’s leg.

“Sam said you weren’t feeling well. I wasn’t thinking when I called you, if you’re sick you shouldn’t be here.”

“It’s a hospital Dean, it’s full of sick people.”

“But you could give something to Sammy, he doesn’t need the flu on top of being hurt.”

“It’s not something I can give Sam. At least not the way you think,” I don’t want to be having this conversation in the men’s room of a hospital. And I wanted to have this conversation with Sam first, “I’m not sick, I’m pregnant.”

Dean has the decency to look shocked, “Sammy didn’t say anything,” he says quietly.

“Sam doesn’t know. I didn’t know ‘til yesterday.”

“You can’t tell me he didn’t have some idea.”

“He might have, but he didn’t ask about it,” Dean isn’t listening.

“I mean with Mare I knew – I just knew. And Sam is – well he’s Sam, he should know,” Dean doesn’t seem to be taking this well.

“I’ll tell him when he wakes up,” I stand, with Dean’s help and we go back to the waiting room, “I’m hungry, could you get me something?”

Dean looks torn but he scoots out after a few seconds. I try to read a magazine while he’s gone, but I can’t. A nurse comes in before Dean gets back. She sits down next to me.

“Are you Mrs. Winchester?” she asks gently.

“Yes,” I say looking up. She’s young, thin and tired.

“We have your husband in a room. Where did his brother get to?”

“He’s getting me something to eat.”

“Well then, I’ll show you and when Dean gets back I’ll bring him in,” I nod. I don’t care, I want to see Sam, “Well come on then. He did well in surgery, but he’s still sleeping.”

She lets me into a room. I see Sam on a bed and he’s so still. Sam doesn’t even sleep still like that. He looks so small – well small for him. He has an oxygen mask on. I must look horrified because the nurse puts a hand on my arm.

“He’s doing better then they thought he would, he was lucky. The mask is just to help, he doesn’t really need it.”

“Was it bad?” I don’t know what to ask. I pull a chair next to Sam’s bed and take his hand in mine.

“Of course it was bad. He’s here isn’t he? His left lung was involved, but I’ll let the doctors tell you, they already talked to Dean about everything. I’m surprised he didn’t tell you.”

“He started, but…well, I got sick.”

“You must have been frightened. Him getting you out of bed in the middle of the night, you driving out here. But everything is going to be all right. He’s strong, and he has you and his brother pulling for him. He’s a lucky boy.”

“Yeah, he’s a lucky guy. He’s a good husband,” I brush a hand across his forehead, fingering the tips of his bangs, then I take his hand again. I don’t even notice when the nurse leave. I do notice Dean come in, he puts some food down on a side table and sits down next to me. Dean takes our hands, Sam and mine, in his.

“So, how’s he doing?” he asks giving my hand a little squeeze.


“He looks good,” Dean says hopefully, “Well he looks better than he did when I saw him last.”

“What happened Dean?” I ask. I can’t look away from Sam. I would love to brush away the hair from his forehead again but Dean is holding my hand. I don’t know if I want to know the answer to my question, I don’t know if Dean will tell me the truth.

“We were held up.”

“Mugged? Some one mugged the two of you?”


“Is where you say ‘you should see the other guy’?”

“No. We said ‘no’ and they just shot him. They just shot him and ran away,” Dean’s voice is so low, he must be telling the truth. He sounds embarrassed, desperate. I want to help, to make it easier for Dean, he’s my friend, but Sam is more important. Dean has to understand that, after all he’s been taking care of Sam all of his life. Dean squeezes my hand and then moves back a bit. I sit with San for a time before I look back to see what Dean is up to. I’m lonely, I want to talk to someone, but Dean is asleep head propped back against the wall. I’d wake him, but the man needs to sleep. I focus back on my husband, and notice that he is stirring.

“Hey,” I purr at him.

“Kate…” Sam’s eyes slowly focus on me. I had wanted Sam to see Dean first. It seems like both of them might need that.

“Dean?” Sam says weakly.

“Dean?” I call over my shoulder. The sleeping man practically leaps up and is at Sam’s side in the blink of an eye.

“Sammy?” Dean sounds like he might break. I decide that I should use the bathroom. Leave the boys alone. After the restroom I decide to sit in the weighting room. Give them sometime together. I want to doze off, but I’m agitated. I want to take Sam in my arms and just hold him until he is better. But they need each other more than either of them will ever need me.

“Hey,” Dean says coming into the weighting room, “You coming back in? You need to talk to him. You have big news.”

“You think he’s up to it?”

“I think it will make him feel better.”


( 27 comments — Leave a comment )
Apr. 11th, 2006 08:45 pm (UTC)

*hearts normal!SamandDean*
Apr. 11th, 2006 08:56 pm (UTC)
now all I have to do is finish this one and a few others that stopped in the middle... LOL. I must spend the last 2 weeks of april finishing things.
Apr. 12th, 2006 03:08 am (UTC)
whoa, that's good :)

keep up the writing! :D
Apr. 12th, 2006 11:09 am (UTC)
I've started the second part of this, lets jsut say Sam isn't as suprised as she would like. My goal for the rest of this month is to finish off the storys I've started!
Apr. 13th, 2006 02:37 am (UTC)
very cool goal :)

i'm almost done my time travel timeshifter fic!!
Apr. 13th, 2006 11:23 am (UTC)
I worked on this a little (after Lost last night) and a few others - they are all talking at once...sigh* I feel like I'm saying 'shut up!" all the time!
Apr. 13th, 2006 07:59 pm (UTC)
oh i can relate... when all the voices talk at once, and yeah, you do want to yell at 'em.
Apr. 13th, 2006 11:16 pm (UTC)
Dear Sam,

Shut up. I have these other two fics to finish and you are not the focus of either of them. OK so maybe you are the focus, but you arn't speeking. If you keep inturupting I will never get them done and I will be ignoring you much longer. I understand that the longer I ingore you the whineyer you get, so just let me be for like a week and I promise I will get back to you.


Dear Dean,

Please read the above note. Also I DO promise to make him suffer for haveing sex in the car (if you ever bothered to look at the stories ahead of time you'd know that already)


Dear John (Sir, not little John)

You have to talk louder. I simply can't hear you over your sons. We've got a good start but you keep faiding out on me.

With Respect


Dear Mare,

please read the above note. I need to know more about you I'd love to write soemthign from your POV.


Dear Kate,

can you just stick to one sotry at a time?


Apr. 14th, 2006 04:49 am (UTC)
Apr. 14th, 2006 11:20 am (UTC)
It's the truth - I was even watching the show last night and I hear Sam "you know you never even started... blah blah blah and you haven't finished this one over here"

"Sam, I'm trying to watch you not have sex with this girl who lokes alot like Kate"

"That's fine, but you have me stuck alone in this apartment over here!"

"Shut up!"


"I'll get to it Sam. Now will you shut up?"
Apr. 14th, 2006 07:14 pm (UTC)
pesky voices.

mine usually stop when i'm done writing whatever fic for a few days or so... longest time the were quiet was... hmm. my FW voices, Cade and Eddie, from when i finished The Warrior (begining of 04, i looked) until i wrote Deadlights (end of 05).

OH! D&S voices? they were quiet for maybe two weeks....
Apr. 14th, 2006 11:09 pm (UTC)
Sam babbles in my head all the flipping time... last night I was reading a book by Baxter Black and it used the technical term for a "reproductive specalest" in the animal husbandry feild and I hear "I'll have to remember that to use on Dean" - "thanks a fliping lot Sam - good night - go to bed - stop bugging me"
Apr. 14th, 2006 11:11 pm (UTC)

Apr. 14th, 2006 11:12 pm (UTC)
he even folded down the page - "You know I use *bookdarts* Sam"
Apr. 14th, 2006 11:14 pm (UTC)
oh that's too funny!
Apr. 14th, 2006 11:23 pm (UTC)
I can't stand boook abuse.
Apr. 14th, 2006 11:23 pm (UTC)
i hear you there. i have bookdarts and bookmarks too.
Apr. 14th, 2006 11:30 pm (UTC)
I need to get another set of book darts... sigh*

Sam steals lybrary books - it woudl nver work for us...
Apr. 14th, 2006 11:32 pm (UTC)
sorry to hear that about Sam... :S
Apr. 14th, 2006 11:34 pm (UTC)
I should say "Sam and Dean seem to have a lot of books that say 'property of (fill in the blank)' stamped on them"
Apr. 14th, 2006 11:34 pm (UTC)
Apr. 14th, 2006 11:37 pm (UTC)
they could have bought them I supose...
Apr. 14th, 2006 11:38 pm (UTC)
they could have.

we have several discards from the libraries. bought 'em at book sales and stuff...
Apr. 14th, 2006 11:49 pm (UTC)
we do as well. We are a you never get it new if you can get it used family. but I think Sam is a clepto... I know of a laywer who worked his way through law school as a cat burgler, and then kept up with it after becoming a firly well known Boston attorny. He would break into his own clients houses steal art and hang it on the walls of his offices, then have the clients over for meetings. He did this for YEARS before any of them noticed.
Apr. 14th, 2006 11:52 pm (UTC)
how about a former thief who worked for a security firm? they did that in FW...
Apr. 15th, 2006 01:21 am (UTC)
Looks good. Just a bit of critique.
I can't say I have had the chance to use this but my EN211b teacher (He is a grad student, not a professor) said that my Tempest chapter 1 needed more description and back story. All I have is an example I just started using this. I think you may be able to use this techinique.

Rewrite 1 of Tempest Chapter 1

A male snow leopard watched the sun rise over the mountains. Few people lived deep in the Rocky Mountains. Fewer knew about the caves. These mountains were his hide out. Completely alone, he enjoyed the rare luxury of peace and quiet. His real name was never known. He had always been known as Tempest. One month out of the year he hid out here away from the rest of society.

A wanted leopard, he traveled from place to place on his motorcycle. Wandering from city to city starting fights, stealing what he needed to survive. He had safe places all over the country and some out of the country. Though the thieves' guild did not condone violence some leaders offered him shelter. The others just provided food or gas and sent him on his way. City gangs often helped him out of fear or respect. He had other people he had assisted all over the 'States. Tempest stretched in the light of the brilliant sunrise. In a few hours it would be time to move again. His month of rest was over.

Rewrite 2 of Tempest Chapter 1

The first light of dawn caressed the Rocky Mountains while a male snow leopard watched. The sky's blue glow was infused with gold and crimson. It had a bloody quality to it. Completely alone, the leopard enjoyed the rare luxury of peace and quiet. He brushed a few twigs out of his fur. Few people lived deep in the Rockies. Fewer knew about the caves and he hoped to keep it that way. This was his vacation. While another people, humans and anthromorphs alike, enjoyed vacations in places of chaos he enjoyed his vacations in peace because, for him life had more than enough chaos already. His last job was almost enough to send him over the edge of sanity.
He was sitting in an unmarked van. His truck was parked in the basement of an abandoned building several blocks away. The people around him wore light weight bullet proof vests, completely useless against anything larger than a 9mm hand gun. They carried TEC-9s and were a pitiful force in comparison to him. He held an M-4 Carbine with a grenade launcher and wore armor that covered his entire body: Kevlar mostly, with heavy steel trauma plates covering the most vital areas. Only the most powerful or well placed shot from a rifle stood any chance of injuring him. As a leopard he was a bit too noticeable for any job this big so his helmet had a heavily tinted visor that covered his face. The reduction in his vision was acceptable compared to the alternate of being identified. The bulk of his armor hid the rest of his features, with his tail curled up on his back. All of them jumped out of the back of the van. His name was Tempest and was about to live up to it. The only trouble would getting out alive.
He shivered despite the warm breeze. It was time to go and stop dwelling on the past. Tempest pulled a hooked seed out of his spotted fur. He now knew where to go next.

The memory in the rewrite 2 is made to be fast. I could describe the people in the van in more detail. I could describe the weapons more. Any thing can be described more. That's all I have for now. ;)
Apr. 15th, 2006 12:34 pm (UTC)
Re: Looks good. Just a bit of critique.
cool. thanks. I doubt I'll re wrtie this, I never rewrite fan fic if I cna help it. But I have been trying to add more discriptions to my origanl peices (I don't think I've posted one in a while there was Karma Train awhile back and before that were the 'the biggest trunk in the world' stories)

As alwasy thaks for reading. And I'm glad you are still working on Tempest it has a lot of potential.
( 27 comments — Leave a comment )