Fanfic Short Stories

Supernatural: Torch Song

After S7E10 (Season Seven, Time for a Wedding!) Chuck decides he and Sam need to talk. To seduce Sam, he'd use the tools of a writer: his words. He might start with humor and teasing, throwing out lots of euphemisms and innuendos until Sam calls him on it. Will a Norse relic help Chuck's wishes come true?

Set mostly in season 7 after episode 8 "Season Seven, Time for a Wedding" with the final scene set at the end of season 11.

Black Hawk, Colorado

Sam Winchester stepped out of the diner and shielded his eyes from the piercing sunlight as he looked down the main street of Black Hawk. Historic buildings of the gold rush era lined the street in their restored glory, and now the small town catered to tourists. Some visited for the beauty of the Rocky Mountains, while others were drawn to the casinos. Reports of gamblers with an unprecedented streak of luck had brought the Winchester brothers first to Central City, and now here.

He planned to spend the afternoon doing research, but he hadn't decided if he'd do that from his laptop in their hotel room or if he'd seek out the locals to answer his questions. The important thing was to keep busy, to stop thinking about his disaster of a love life.

A familiar voice interrupted his thoughts. "Sam."

He turned around. "Chuck!" The thoughts he'd intended to avoid by diving into research came flooding back. "You, umm... You know about the wedding?" He shook his head. "Of course you do."

"I'm still a prophet," Chuck confirmed. "Still writing the Supernatural series. I can't stop. When the visions arrive, I have to write them down." He paused. "I know it wasn't your fault. She used magic on you."

Sam nodded. Becky had resorted to magic to trick him into thinking he was in love with her. When the fog of that spell lifted, he'd been happy to escape the marriage and to put any thoughts of it behind him. That had worked for a few days, but recently he'd started fixating on what it all meant. And now to run into Chuck, who'd had some sort of relationship with Becky even after it became clear she was obsessed with Sam... At the very least, it was awkward. "What are you doing here?"

"I wanted to talk to you, and I was pretty sure you'd ignore me if I just called or emailed." Chuck gave him a self-deprecating smile. "The best approach seemed to be thrusting myself into your path."

"Yeah," Sam admitted. He would have avoided Chuck if he could. In fact, he'd already been trying to think of a way to send the prophet in Dean's direction.

"I decided to rent a cabin for a couple of weeks. Quiet spot, majestic views. It's supposed to be great for artists or writers who want to get away and focus on their work. Two miles from here by road, about half of that if you're up to hiking the trail. I think you'd like the exercise, and I'd rather not go solo. I need to put these away," he said, gesturing toward the bag of groceries he held in his left arm. "Just stay with me until we reach the cabin. Then you can turn around and leave, if that's what you want." He grabbed Sam by the arm and started walking. "This way."

"I feel like I'm being shepherded."

"Sometimes that's what you need." He glanced up at Sam. "But not necessarily what you want. You didn't want my opinion about the demon's blood, and I'm not under any delusion that you'll want to hear what I have to say now. Still, I think it will do us both some good to get everything out in the open."

Ignoring the awkwardness, Sam decided to go along with what Chuck had in mind. It might be good to talk with someone. He knew Dean would be willing to listen, but wasn't convinced he'd understand. Anyway, his brother had enough worries.

They'd walked a block, leaving the main street behind them. Chuck paused in front of a store. "Greene's Bedding," the prophet said. "They're known for environmentally-friendly products. See the sheets with sheep and clouds printed on them? Those are the 'Pasture' design."