Some Things You Can't Run From;; Gabriel and Sam
The skinwalker was getting restless. He’d expected that. Too, too long he’d remained in one place. It wasn’t a dislike of Sam, he doubted he could dislike Sam. Even the cabin that had seemed barely habitable for a human had become… homey.
He just couldn’t keep himself in one place. Gabriel hadn’t been able too since he’d abandoned his pack, and that just didn’t make for any sort of relationship because what would always happen was this.
He’d had his damnnightmare again- the one where he was with his family and then he’d been alone, covered in his own blood and wracked with pain- he woke up shaking with a whimper dying in his throat, glad Sam wasn’t awake. He’d had a rough time sleeping until now, and it was around five in the morning.
His chest ached dully as he plodded past where the young hunter, his steps silent as he reached the door. He’d done this before, gone on wolf-runs and left Sam alone just to get some energy out— he tries to convince himself that this time he’s not going to give into that urge to bolt as far away as possible. He drops the folded clothes— eugh those need to be washed.. or he needs to stop wearing them— in a neat pile near the door.
A moment later there’s a white wolf rushing down the drive. he only stops to look back at the cabin, blinking once, twice— he vanishes, not sure of direction, but he’s getting there fast.
From the files of nikkinextdoor: April 4, 2010 - I just changed someone's life
If you read my stuff at all, you probably have some idea about my kid and the relationship we have. She just turned 14 a couple weeks ago (re: me clogging up your dashboard with photos of her!) and her biological father left me when I was 6 months pregnant. I never saw him after the night she was born, until his funeral three and a half years ago. So he is gone, and to my knowledge, his parents had no idea that my daughter even existed. My daughter doesn’t lack for family … my ex husband adopted her many years ago and she has grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins, etc who all love her. But her biological father was the only child of his mother, and he never had any other children. Since he has passed, I feel like it’s my responsibility to tell this woman that she has a grandchild. My daughter deserves to know her biological family and … this woman deserves to know that her son lives on in the blood of my daughter.
So last Wednesday, I did the hardest thing I have ever done, and that was mail her a letter. I agonized over the letter, and in the end, it was non accusatory, non finger pointy, I just wanted her to know. I was prepared to wait weeks for a response. I was prepared for an angry reaction. I was prepared for a cold, indifferent reaction. She called me last night after receiving the letter, and she was absolutely over the moon about my daughter. She just cried and cried, she has no idea. He never told her. And she was so kind. She can’t wait to meet us. I just changed her life.
“Everyone dies, but not everyone lived.” Everything is already planned out for me; my future, that is. I’m supposed to excel in all areas in high school, in hope to get into my dream college so that I could become that great, world renowned doctor or surgeon. Then, I shall use my savings to build a comfortable life net, so that I may retire gracefully and live on a beach house with my husband, to have our kids and grandkids visit us every weekend. But, you see, that’s all so pedestrian. Honestly, that’s my mother’s idea of a great future, and as appealing as it may seem, I want to do things my way, on my own.
I want to grow up, to make mistakes and even more mistakes, but never the same mistake twice. I’d love to travel the world, visit Venice or Thailand or Australia, to eat things and see things that I could only dream about, or only see on the Travel Channel. I want to fall in love and in love again, and find myself stuck in a “pit” so that I may get myself out of it. Maybe a great Parisian chef can teach me how to cook, a Spanish flamenco dancer can teach me how to dance. I don’t want to live my life having everything laid out for me, because as you can see, following guidelines is not a strong point of mine. To be honest, I can see myself anywhere in ten years. Whether it be on the beaches of the Caribbean, or in the Air Force, I want to live and let live. Sometimes that happiest people are not those who are financially better off, or who have a more “prestigious” job, but it’s those who take advantage of all the time they have in the world and allow themselves to really live. Why waste a perfectly good life? Like a super model once said, “The only thing in common we have with the rest of the world is 24 hours.”
Stark Saturday [Tony & ...]
Passing time, like memories, was a vicious reminder of just how little of it existed. He would never have enough time, and he would never have done enough in the time that he was given. Each minute that passed reminded him that the shrapnel grew closer and closer to his heart.
However true this was, Tony Stark was not the type to dwell on it. He was alive because he chose to be. He gave himself more time, and he was going to do with it what he pleased. This included him going out at whatever hour he felt like and blowing far too much money on alcohol and things for himself and Steve that he knew would never be used or needed.
This was one of those days that Tony didn’t care to be reminded that time was ticking away. He had himself convinced that he had all the time in the world. He gave himself that time when he made the Arc Reactor. So, why shouldn’t he spend his self-given time doing whatever he wanted? The opposite just didn’t make sense.
Tony stood on the balcony of his high tower that loomed over the streets of New York. He had his hands in his pockets, and the wind whipped relentlessly around his frame. He wore a pressed dress shirt and slacks, along with his typical four hundred dollar sunglasses that protected his eyes just as well as a ten dollar pair from Walmart. Not like it mattered, though, since the sky was overcast and the sun had decided that it wasn’t ready for the day, either.
He retracted his hand from his pocket with his phone pressed to his palm. “JARVIS,” He glanced down at the phone as the screen lit up. “Call someone. I don’t care who, as long as it’s not Steve or Peter. They’re busy today.”
“Right away, sir,” The AI responded, and shifted through his contacts for someone to call. Soon, the phone was dialing, and Tony pressed it to his ear.
“Hey, it’s Tony,” He spoke when he heard the person on the other end answer. “I’m bored, and I want to go do something. How soon can you get here?”
been a long time coming
Sam could see him getting restless. The walls were starting to close in, and honestly, Sam wasn’t doing much better. For all his talk about wanting a normal life, he’d long since passed that. He was comfortable being on the road, and settling into an unfamiliar motel bed was just as normal as anyone else easing into a bed they’d slept in for years. So…he packed while Gabriel was out running, and when the door opened, Sam’s bag was waiting by the door. The cabin was relatively clean, straightened up and neat.
Sam moved over to greet him and shrugged. ”I think it’s time to go,” he said, and reached up to rub at the back of his neck while he looked around. He blew out a breath and looked at Gabriel. ”So. I think we should go.” Moving over to the counter, he picked up his cell phone and his wallet. ”Together.” And his gun. ”It’d be good.” And three clips and a bag of lollipops. ”And, I already put your stuff in with mine.” Then, he finally looked back over at Gabriel. ”Okay?”
Gabriel was, in fact, going completely nuts, his runs were getting longer, and he spent a lot of time on the front porch and near windows, whenever he wasn’t he was clinging to Sam, either sprawled across him on the couch, or in the bed, and generally just being in the way whenever Sam was doing something on his laptop or reading. Which probably didn’t help Sam’s need for space. At all.
Still, the bag near the door made him panic, and he didn’t shift for several moments, head down and tail tucked. He was just so worried he was being left behind, but then, of course, Sam proved all of his assumptions of people wrong, and he perked up, shifting and dragging on a set of Sam’s clothes(he refused to wear Dean’s now— but he should probably get his own at some point) and looking at Sam with a grin, he didn’t have any sort of problem going with the young hunter, he wanted to. The hunter would have had a hard time leaving him, but the question remained, “What stuff? I have stuff?” He was pretty sure he didn’t have enough to be a real concern for packing. He really couldn’t carry much when he was a wolf. He didn’t even have money except in a bank account. Gabriel shrugged, figuring it was the spare toothbrush he’d been using and things like that. “Where’re we going?”