Cathryn (formerly catslash) (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
remindmeofthe) wrote2009-03-19 07:52 pm
remindmeofthe) wrote2009-03-19 07:52 pm
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So ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
apiphile is hosting a kissing fic meme, which you should all go post in, and she asked, um - someone else entirely for John Winchester/Comedian.
I poached it and immediately fucked it up, because it failed to be slash. Yeah. that's right. I wrote something that isn't slash. Quick, get your smelling salts!
So here it is, a hastily written Watchmen/Supernatural crossover ficlet in which canons mesh almost too well and also I make no promises about the Comedian's characterization, since I'm not as familiar with WM as I usually like to be before I try my hand at fic. But for commentfic, that's allowed.
John Winchester is surprised as hell to open his eyes and discover that he's not dead. By all rights, he should be. He can feel more than hear the ringing in his ears from the explosion, and the inescapable wet stink of the Vietnam jungle is mixed with acrid smoke.
Then he inhales again and realizes - the smoke doesn't smell quite right. He blinks a couple times, clearing his vision, and sees the trail in the air, follows it back to the masked figure sitting next to him.
Of course. The Comedian.
Suddenly, the fact that he's alive makes a whole lot more sense.
"You arright, kid?"
John's hearing is still shot, but he can read lips just fine - it's something they've all had to learn out here - and he nods, sitting up unsteadily.
The Comedian grins. "'Course you are. Would you be if you were alone? Fuck it, don't answer that."
He takes a puff of his cigar and stands, lithe and quick despite the armor and weaponry, then holds out a hand.
"C'mon, kid, up you go, I ain't got all day."
John grabs the offered hand and hauls himself up.
As it turns out, the answer to the Comedian's question is no, at least for the moment. John's equilibrium has gone the way of his hearing and he overbalances, can't correct himself, stumbles. The Comedian catches him like he was expecting it, which he probably was.
"Yeah, that's gonna happen for a few hours. It'll pass." And despite his claims to be in a hurry, he holds on to John, keeping him on his feet till his head stops swimming. The brown eyes behind the mask are sparkling with the dark amusement the Comedian always radiates, even just in photographs; John thinks, vaguely, that they look familiar.
"All right?" the Comedian asks after a moment or two. "You gonna fall on your ass if I let go?"
And the Comedian may have that edge that John recognizes instinctively as something not to be messed with, but John has his pride, bone-deep. He glares and steps back, staying upright through sheer force of will.
The Comedian grins again, a sudden and open expression that doesn't make sense on his face.
"That's my boy."
Then he just looks at John, for a long moment, until John is starting to wonder if he's still unconscious and dreaming. No, scratch that, he's sure he is, because the Comedian leans in abruptly and kisses his forehead before stepping back.
"Now go on, get the fuck outta here. Don't get killed. Remember, you don't gotta be a hero, that's my damn job."
John turns and goes, concentrating so hard on each step that the pieces don't start to fit together until much, much later.
apiphile is hosting a kissing fic meme, which you should all go post in, and she asked, um - someone else entirely for John Winchester/Comedian.I poached it and immediately fucked it up, because it failed to be slash. Yeah. that's right. I wrote something that isn't slash. Quick, get your smelling salts!
So here it is, a hastily written Watchmen/Supernatural crossover ficlet in which canons mesh almost too well and also I make no promises about the Comedian's characterization, since I'm not as familiar with WM as I usually like to be before I try my hand at fic. But for commentfic, that's allowed.
John Winchester is surprised as hell to open his eyes and discover that he's not dead. By all rights, he should be. He can feel more than hear the ringing in his ears from the explosion, and the inescapable wet stink of the Vietnam jungle is mixed with acrid smoke.
Then he inhales again and realizes - the smoke doesn't smell quite right. He blinks a couple times, clearing his vision, and sees the trail in the air, follows it back to the masked figure sitting next to him.
Of course. The Comedian.
Suddenly, the fact that he's alive makes a whole lot more sense.
"You arright, kid?"
John's hearing is still shot, but he can read lips just fine - it's something they've all had to learn out here - and he nods, sitting up unsteadily.
The Comedian grins. "'Course you are. Would you be if you were alone? Fuck it, don't answer that."
He takes a puff of his cigar and stands, lithe and quick despite the armor and weaponry, then holds out a hand.
"C'mon, kid, up you go, I ain't got all day."
John grabs the offered hand and hauls himself up.
As it turns out, the answer to the Comedian's question is no, at least for the moment. John's equilibrium has gone the way of his hearing and he overbalances, can't correct himself, stumbles. The Comedian catches him like he was expecting it, which he probably was.
"Yeah, that's gonna happen for a few hours. It'll pass." And despite his claims to be in a hurry, he holds on to John, keeping him on his feet till his head stops swimming. The brown eyes behind the mask are sparkling with the dark amusement the Comedian always radiates, even just in photographs; John thinks, vaguely, that they look familiar.
"All right?" the Comedian asks after a moment or two. "You gonna fall on your ass if I let go?"
And the Comedian may have that edge that John recognizes instinctively as something not to be messed with, but John has his pride, bone-deep. He glares and steps back, staying upright through sheer force of will.
The Comedian grins again, a sudden and open expression that doesn't make sense on his face.
"That's my boy."
Then he just looks at John, for a long moment, until John is starting to wonder if he's still unconscious and dreaming. No, scratch that, he's sure he is, because the Comedian leans in abruptly and kisses his forehead before stepping back.
"Now go on, get the fuck outta here. Don't get killed. Remember, you don't gotta be a hero, that's my damn job."
John turns and goes, concentrating so hard on each step that the pieces don't start to fit together until much, much later.
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Can I link to this in
Anyway, oh. I can see this. It's a whole AU that really works for me, lol. Thank you :D
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:D I saw the prompt, thought "zomg Vietnam" and off my brain went. Glad you liked!
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AS ARE YOU.
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Short bits with characters we aren't certain of are best. XD
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Also WHY IS IT WEIRD when names I know from other fandoms show up in previously unconnected spheres of my awareness?! Which is to say, I wish I could hypnotize you into bandom because
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Whoa, that is the sound of my worlds colliding. It is always weird when I spot a couple of random flisters who happen to know each other. DOUBLE that when one of them is an RL friend. :O
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*watches geek cred fly out window* Oh well. XD
Thanks! And have fun with the movie.
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