[ 2 ] 𓇼 SEAFOAM AT DAWN
content warnings: mild cursing
word count: 1.3k
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The rising sun casted a rosy hue across the morning sky, reflecting off the waters. As the tides foamed up on the shore, she sat there, fingertips tracing shapes into the wet sand. A plane soared above her, she looked up. Her hand shielded her from the blaring rays. Of course, a plane would be there but it’s different from the commercial planes. Maybe, someone rich enough to do this. Smiling to herself, excited to what’s coming in. Well, at least the summer wouldn’t be boring because something interesting was going to happen.
She was right; something interesting would happen. But she would never expect it to involve her. The sun blinded her through the curtains, reluctantly, she woke up. Groggily, she burrowed herself in her bed. Some might call it “bed-rotting”, but she calls it “self-care”. Checking her notifications, she wiped through the probable spam and replying to the messages from Lyney.
Without hesitation, she immediately picked up the phone when she saw the call coming in. It was from Nahida who asked her if she could come by Café Lutece, a restaurant that is frequented by the locals.
Nahida was an elderly lady that helped out [Name]’s family when they first moved into Fontaine. Not only did she introduce [Name] to her childhood best friend, Lyney, but also provided [Name] for advice or anything she really needed. They were both indebted to each other. So of course, in exchange, [Name] help out too.
Both of them were seated at Café Lutece. [Name] looked at the tanned, elderly lady in front of her. The table has an assortment of snacks on the table as if it was a bribe. A lure to a trap. From what she could see, Nahida was pleading, stirring her teacup awkwardly.
Something like this was out of character for the Nahida she knows especially this is the one who helped her all the time like an all-knowing being. Her voice trembled a little, unusual for the confident Nahida she knew. “[Name], I understand this might be too much to ask-”
“Auntie Nahida, nothing you ask would be too much. You had already helped my family when I first moved here.” She replied, sipping a bit of her drink. But Nahida winced at her statement, nervously sipping her cup. When [Name] was going to ask her to elaborate, she continued,
“But can you please watch over my nephew? He’s around your age and I believe you can help him adjust to Fontaine.” [Name] opened her mouth, but Nahida added on, “I’m aware there are other Fontainian teens, but I believe you could help him the most. ” Nahida’s wrinkles seemed to tighten together as she continued to ramble about the situation.
Her nephew? It was strange, Nahida never mentioned her family very often. Now that [Name] think back on it, Nahida only shared stories that related to the teen’s problems but not even an ounce about her family. Does she even have relatives? This opened up questions that she would ask later. But for right now, [Name] reached out, placing her hand on top of the older woman’s hand, soothing her. “Yeah, I could definitely tour him around Fontaine, Auntie.”
“Are you sure because I don’t want to interrupt your summer? I understand if you don’t want to hang out with a stranger throughout the break.”
“Yeah, I’m sure, Auntie. Plus, I wasn’t going to do anything this summer.” She said, only partly lying. She was going to help Lyney with his magic show but that’s only part-time. Adding that to the technicalities, she had nothing to do. Lyney would understand after all, it’s Auntie Nahida.
Nahida was still anxious, anyone around them could see it, and [Name] wasn’t sure why. “Are you sure? He might be a bother, I’ll pay you.”
Although she did feel bad for taking the money, she did need it just in case. “Yes?” she chuckled lightheartedly. “I’m sure, Auntie. Why are you acting like he would be a pain? He’s related to you, I’m sure that he would be just as kind as you.” The graying woman was laughing nervously like there was some truth in what [Name] just said.
𓊝
Maybe, there was a reason why Auntie was hesitant, she should've told [Name] that the nephew was a spoiled man child with a pretty, doll-like face. He had indigo hair, obviously dyed and his roots were showing, cut in a perfect hime cut, fit for a prince. His eyes, though held a stark difference from his appearance, were softer like a kitten. But what she didn’t expect when she met him, she guessed that he didn’t know why she was there. He made eye contact with her and scoffed, waving his hand to shoo her off as if she was a pest. “Hey, this is a private estate. I know you know who I am and obviously, this is a bit weird to stalk me all the way to Fontaine.”
[Name] tried her best to keep her cool especially when this is Nahida's nephew. But man, expecting this “Kunikuzushi” guy to be like Nahida might have been an understatement. “What? I don’t know who you are but don’t go on assuming that I know.” Trying to stay calm, she greeted him, extending her hand, “Hi, I’m [Name]. Nahida asked me to tour you around Fontaine.”
He walked around [Name], up to the stairs of the estate. What an asshole! He really just let her hang there. Not taking his silence as an answer, she chased after him, yanking on his hoodie sleeve.
“Hey!”
Oh god, he almost fell. Luckily, he caught himself– Wait, he has good balance– shot a glare. Well, if he just was polite and heard her out, this wouldn’t have been a problem. Hell, he deserved it after being a total ass.
“Did you even listen to me?”
Scaramouche pulled his sleeve back, making [Name] stumble back. She grabbed the railings for stability. He huffed, “Why would I listen to you? Seriously, people want anything for views.”
[Name] scoffed, holding out her phone; it showed that she wasn’t on her camera app or memos. “I’m being serious. I don’t have any cameras on me and I’m not even filming you. I don’t know anything about you other than you’re Nahida's nephew.”
Thankfully, when the indigo haired was going to rebuttal, Nahida walked in, crossing her arms, “Now, that’s enough, Kunikuzushi. I told you that someone would tour you around, didn’t I?”
Scaramouche pursed his lips into a thin line, walking up the stairs to Auntie and left Name at the bottom. “I’m not as lonely as you think, Auntie.” He replied, stuffing his hands into his pockets. As [Name] walked up the stairs, Nahida rolled her eyes, scolding him,
“Kunikuzushi, I understand your situation with your mother but that doesn’t mean this is an open gate to throw attitude to someone, especially a person, I asked, to tour you around Fontaine.” He looked like a pitiful cat with big eyes, she would feel bad if he didn’t assume she was his fan.
Scaramouche frowned, crossing his arms, “I don’t need someone to tour me around, I’ve been here before.”
Auntie only laughed, “When you were five, Kunikuzushi.”
It was awkward to listen to this conversation when [Name] was already halfway up the stairs, maybe she can come back later. But she was conflicted since [Name] promised Nahida that she’d help but it doesn’t mean she has to stay. I’ll come back later if Nahida asks me to.
[Name] thought as she descended from the stairs, she glanced back, and he flinched but only slightly. He almost caught her staring; she whipped her head in the other direction and an audible crack was heard.
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Implied thoughts of cruelty, brief thoughts of being eaten
Summary:
What if Dean Winchester couldn’t trade his soul for his brother’s life? Unknown to Dean Winchester and those who wanted the apocalypse to happen, Sam's soul was thrown back in time and reincarnated into something not so big or human.
I used the actual show transcripts for the beginning but made some adjustments to make it fit better.
Beware the website I used didn't have a secure network and my browser, my normal-ass browser, warned me not to use it.
If you wanna find it, search up 2x21 Supernatural Transcripts.
“Sam!”
Dean shouts
Sam clutches his arm and makes his way over to his brother and Bobby. Relief feels him as he sees the two. He’s exhausted, but he feels safer at each step. He gets closer to Dean and Bobby.
“Dean!”
He calls back tired but relieved, a small smile appearing on his face as he stumbles his way to his older brother, finally free, finally safe.
Dean begins to stop walking and runs towards him. Sam’s confused, but Dean practically screams at him.
“Sam, look out!”
But it was too late. As pain filled his body, he feels like he’d about to collapse, Dean's panic cry.
“Noooo!”
Sam falls to his knees, gasping in pain. Dean slides to the ground in front of his brother. He grabs Sam's clothes.
“No, Sam!”
Dean tells his brother as if that would stop the bleeding.
Sam falls forward onto Dean’s shoulder.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa, Sam, Sam! Hey, Hey, hey. Come here, let me look at you.”
He places his hand on the wound of Sam's back, the blood has already completely soaked his hand.
“Hey, look at me. It’s not even that bad. It’s not even that bad, alright? Sammy? Sam?”
Dean grabs his brother’s face. His head is wobbling as if the energy helping him keep his head up was fading.
“Hey, listen to me. We’re gonna patch you up, okay? You’ll be good as new. Huh? I’m gonna take care of you. I’m gonna take care of you. I’ve got you. That’s my job, right? Watch out for my pain-in-the-ass little brother?”
Dean touches his brother's face, lightly tapping it as if he could keep him awake long enough that he magically heal and live.
He can feel the weight in his arms get heavier as panic feels throughout Dean's entire body.
“Sam? Sam! Sam! Sammy!”
Sam's eyes finally shut and his body slumps forward. No longer does it have the energy to sit up.
“No. No, no, no, no, no, no. Oh, God. Oh, God.”
He cradles his little brother in his arms, rocking back and forth as tears stream down his face. As he looks down, he doesn’t see the adult his brother becomes but instead the baby he ran out of the burning house in his arms.
“Sam!”
The last cry of his name, hoping Sam would wake up, hoping Sam would be alive, but he never opened his eyes again.
[4 Years Later.]
Sam was kicked from the colony, apparently not doing his assigned role from birth and, dare suggest something else, was a big no.
“Great, they didn’t even give me anything. I guess they were hoping I die out here.”
Sam carefully stayed closer to the trees, picking up a small broken branch to defend himself against smaller creatures however he knew if anything bigger like a lizard came he would probably have to either hide or climb to the tree hoping the lizard couldn’t climb up as well. Which was doubtful.
He sighed. He would have to think about where to sleep tonight or where to start a new colony and-
“Crack!”
Sam’s head turned around to face the sound. It sounded like thunder, but he could tell it wasn’t.
“What was that?”
He said with a mixture of curiosity and slight panic.
He stood still, deciding what to do now. He could either listen to all his instincts and run or he could indulge his curiosity and investigate quickly.
He sighed before lightly sprinting in the direction of where he heard the sound; he kept looking and couldn’t find anything out of place until he heard a small wicked giggle and the smell of the realm of the untouched filled his nose.
He instantly hid.
Why was a fairy here? He thought panicked.
He waited until the sound of the fairy and its stench disappeared. He peaked briefly to see a massive figure slumped against a tree.
Sam tilted his head. That was clearly a human. He’s never seen one, mainly because not many humans go into a middle of a large unattended forest.
Based on what the colony had told him, he knew that humans were worse than vile, wicked fae. The colony had warned him that with one squeeze, they could turn him into mush, or even force him to become their pet or worse, their food.
Sam shivered at the thought of being so easily killed or controlled, but as always, curiosity outwins any survival instincts as perusal.
Besides, who knows when another chance like this would come again, to see a real human up close and personal?
So whether stupidity or curiosity or some mixture of them both, he approached slowly, studying the features he could already clearly see, making a mental note in his head that he could jot down later on a leaf.
As he gets closer and closer to the giant human, he suddenly felt a gust of air heading towards him and on instinct jumped back, nearly stumbling backwards.
Where he looked up horrified at the now pissed of awake human, whose hand was slammed into the ground where he just stood a moment ago, and with the other hand a large silver object pointed directly at him.
“I’m gonna kill you, you friggin’ fairy!”
He growled furiously.
Sam's eyes widen in fear.
“Crap!”
And before he knew it, he was running away as fast as his tiny legs could run with a giant, monstrous figure chasing after him.
Even if he could explain to the human, he wasn’t a fae and how insulting to even be compared to such a vile, evil creature is. He doubt he would listen.
He heard that same crack again and quickly covered his ears as the sound this time caused him great pain, he let out a small cry continuing to run and as he did another crack was heard but this time something flew past him and into the tree in front of him, his eyes wide at the now hole in the tree.
He thought it looked rather similar to that of the holes in the rocks they launch at dragonflies they put in them.
He was practically cornered now. He closed his eyes. The human held the silver object once again. He couldn’t help to wonder what damage it would do to him if it did so much to a stern tree.
He closed his eyes, unable to hide his slight shaking, and waited. Instead of the crack sound he now associated with the object he heard the sound similar to rocks smashing together.
“Damit!"
He watched as the human hit the silver object with his hand and Sam took this as his opportunity to escape. He went to leave, but the loud deep voice of the Human shouted.
“No, you don’t!”
Before he could even move any further, large hard hands launched at him and grabbed him. The feeling felt as if he was suffocating at the tight, crushing grip.
Sam didn’t dare open his eyes too scared to ponder the idea of doing so and a small voice inside mocked him.
Where’d your curiosity go now?
it mocked.
He felt something cold suddenly touch his skin and followed by the human’s voice of confusion.
“What? Why isn’t it burning you?”
He asked demandingly.
Sam couldnt even fine the words to answer nor even open his eyes just keeping them shut.
He continued to feel the coldness of whatever item the human kept pressing against his skin.
“Just my luck a fae suddenly becoming immune to friggin’ iron.”
Sam felt as if he didn’t speak up now. He wouldn’t ever be able to again.
“I’m not a fae.”
He weakly said as the tight grip had not loosened.
The human scoffed
“Sure you're not.”
Sam finally opened his eyes. He stared at him. The human’s face gave him a weird sense of déjà vu.
“I’m not. If I was, I would probably cast a spell on you or something.”
The human glared
“You threatening me.”
Sam made a disbelief face
“How did you come to that conclusion of what did anything i say make you think that?”
The human raised an eyebrow.
“Then what are you, huh? A pixie practically the same thing.”
Sam looked confused
“I’m not a pixie. I don’t even know what that is.”
The human's glare lighten up and so did his grip, not enough to where he could escape but just enough so he can breathe.
“You're coming with me until I can figure out what you are, and if you're dangerous.”
“And well, if you are.”
He pointed to the ground and his boot and smirked.
“You get to briefly say hello to my boot.”
Sam couldn’t help but feel terrified at the idea of being crushed to death.
The human took him out of the forest and went into a large weirdly shaped black object. He looked around with his free hand and with a sigh.
“This will have to do.”
It was a long cylinder object; it smelled of rotten fruit. Sam shook his head.
“I’m not going in that. That reeks.”
The human raised his eyebrow.
“What part of this did you think you had a choice?"
And not even a second later, he was pushed down into the small neck of the cylinder object, that reeked of rotten fruit, and even though Sam could kind of see out of it, the world he saw through it was brown-tinted.
Before any more thoughts could be thought a large roar followed by everything shacking around him.
He let out a small shrieked cry of surprise the human only laughed at him causing Sam to roll his eyes in annoyance.
Sam rolled his eyes.
“Buckle up pipsqueak. We have a long drive ahead and you might as well cherish these hours while you can.”
Sam didn’t even know what drive meant, but he knew what cherishing his hours meant. He was taunting him, promising him a truly terrifying fate.
So Sam did what anyone stuck in his situation would do. He tried to escape, however, due to whatever weird contraption this human had put him in, his efforts were futile as he kept slipping back down, unable to grip anything. Still, he kept trying until he was too tired to attempt again, so exhausted he just accepted his fate.
That he was doomed.
End Notes: Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed it. There will be another part coming out, so I hope you will enjoy it as well.
I hope you guys are ready for some Kabra feels because I gottem right here.
Congratulations, Cahills!
Amy winced, Vesper One was the most positive evil-doer she’d ever encountered. Hopefully she’d never have to encounter another.
You’ve managed to release one hostage! Though, that does have its fair trade, of course. One hostage for another, if you will. Natalie Kabra is free. But you’ll have to find her. Good luck! :)
Amy sighed loudly and flopped down onto the hotel bed. Dan walked over and took the Vesper phone from her hand. He wrinkled his nose after reading the message. “Why free Natalie? I mean, it’s good that we’ve freed a hostage--”
“We haven’t,” Amy mumbled, “not really. He took another hostage in her place.”
“--but why Natalie?” He threw the phone onto the other bed, missing Atticus’s head by a mere two inches. “And why do we have to find her?”
They knew the answer: because that’s what Vesper One did. Whether or not he’d give them any hints, any time out of their next task (which had already been assigned and given a deadline), was far off in the negative.
Amy imagined Natalie, just thirteen years old, lost in someplace she had no idea. A forrest? A city? An island far away from civilization? Only thirteen, and so, so lost.
“What’s posh boy’s last name?” Jake asked. Amy turned her head to look at him, he’d picked up the Vesper phone. “Ian’s, I mean.”
“Kabra, he’s her brother.” Amy was slightly disappointed at the sudden drop she felt in her stomach. Ian had run. He could be as lost as his sister....
Jake pursed his lips -- which, Amy was happy to observe, scattered his normally attractive face (she felt less guilty looking at him like she was when he wasn’t as handsome). “‘Fair exchange’, yeah?”
Amy sat up, using her elbows to support her. “That’s what it says.” She became frantic for a moment, already guessing what he was suggesting.
“You don’t think they took Ian,” Dan said, his face unbelieving, skewed.
He shrugged. “A sibling for a sibling seems like a fair trade to me.” He looked up quickly, his eyes apologetic. “Not that I’m, like, supporting him or anything.”
Amy nodded. “No, no. I-It....” She stopped short, not wanting to acknowledge what she had caused with five simple words. Words that should’ve never been said.
The Vesper phone shook violently in Jake’s hand -- a new text. “‘Tick tock goes the clock,’” he read, “‘Head to Cahill Command, there’s a surprise waiting for you!’”
Amy picked at her thumbs. “The mole,” she whispered, “I guess we find out today.”
Dan his his head against the cabinet. “So we got this hotel room for nothing? We’re just going right back home!”
Atticus screeched suddenly, catching them all by surprise and forcing a jump. Jake went over to see what was wrong, but laughed. “He’s sleeping,” He said between chuckles, “that was a snore!”
Despite themselves, Dan and Amy laughed with him.
--
The first thing Natalie Kabra noticed when she woke up was how bright it was. The second was that it was much brighter than normal. Then she heard the people and the cars, and... music.
She stood up, her legs shaking, and inspected herself. New clothes -- she tried not to think about how they were put on her -- but that was all. Still scraped up, still bloody in some places, and still absolutely dirty and disgusting.
She moaned, but refused to cry.
She placed her right hand against the building’s wall to stabilize herself, then walked around the side, coming into some kind of plaza. Some kind of plaza she recognized. She squinted her eyes to look down the walkway, confirming her belief: she was near the Buell Theatre, which meant she was at the Denver Center for the Performing Arts, which meant she was in Denver, which meant she was near Elizabeth and Spencer.
A brief moment of elation filled her, before she realized her problem.
She had no way to contact them.
Natalie patted her pockets for a moment, hoping beyond hope that she’d have been given a phone. No such luck. She walked into the nearest theatre, going up to the ticket desk.
The attendant gave her a strange look. “Can I help you?”
“Yes,” she tried not to sound too snobby, she needed this man’s help and being offensive was not going to get it for her (no matter how much she wished she could pull the “I’m Ian Kabra’s sister, thank you!” line). “I was hoping to, um, use a phone.” Her confidence was suddenly lost at the realization of her situation. “I’m terribly lost, and I need to call a friend to pick me up.”
The attendant seemed confused for a second, told her to wait, and went into the back. She picked up a brochure while she was waiting. He came back out a few minutes later. “Boss says I can’t,” he shrugged, “I wish I could, Miss, but I can’t jeopardize this job.”
Natalie sighed. “I understand,” though I wish I could punch you, “I’ll find something.”
He nodded. “Good luck, Miss.”
Natalie frowned slightly, he sounded so sincere. “Yes, thank you.”
How could a man she just met want her to find her way? To be so apologetic about not being able to help her. Maybe it was the fact that she looked homeless.
On her way towards another theatre, a tall man in a black trenchcoat bumped into her. She turned around to yell, but realized that wouldn’t be the best thing. She wobbled a bit, the man reached out a hand to steady her.
“Careful, there,” he said in a Southern-United States accent. Despite the fact that she only knew three people with a Southern-United States accent (and she was quite certain this man was not one of them), he sounded familiar. Natalie looked up at him, he wore a hat that shaded his face, though he showed a dark complexion. Like Ian’s. She wiped away a few tears before they formed. “You alright?”
“No,” she choked, “I-I’m all by myself, and I have no way to contact anyone to come and pick me up!”
The man reached into his pocket and produced a phone. “Here. If your friend doesn’t answer the first time, just keep on tryin’ till they do, alright?”
She took the phone gingerly, awestruck once again that a stranger would want to help. “Th-Thank you.” She whispered.
He nodded. “I’ll be over by the poster for Grease, alright? Give me my phone back when we’re done.”
She nodded, looking over to find the poster. She dialed their home phone number, even though she knew they rarely used it (she was quite surprised she remembered the number). Voice mail picked. “The Coopers are not in the residence,” it said, “do leave us a message, though. We might call back.” There was a long beep.
“Spencer? Elizabeth? It’s Natalie. I, um, I need help--” The phone clicked, she was worried for a moment that’d she’d lost them.
“Natalie?” Spencer’s voice called, panting as if he’d just been running.
“Yes!” She cried, tears forming from relief. “Yes, yes!”
“Where are you?”
“Denver Performing Arts Center,” she wiped more tears away, “Spencer please come get me. I’m scared and dirty and hungry--”
“You don’t have to ask,” he laughed, “of course I’m coming to get you! Meet me by the sculpture garden, alright? It’ll be a little while, but I’ll be there.”
She sniffed. “Thank you.”
“Of course. I’m gonna hang up now, okay? I’ll be there as soon as the law lets me.”
“Okay.”
“See you soon.”
“Alright.” The line went dead.
She wiped a few more tears away before approaching the stranger, though it didn’t help much. News ones were formed. She handed the man his phone. “Thank you so much.”
He nodded. “You got ahold of your friend, then?”
“Yes. Thank you. Is there,” she bit her lip, “um, is there anything I could do in return?”
She could see a smile form beneath the shadow of his hat. He stood up, putting his phone back in his pocket. “You just stay safe, alright? That’s what you can do for me.”
She nodded, then ran off towards the sculpture garden.
