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Fic: Home: Strongest Conjuration

Home: Strongest Conjuration
For marbleglove
Prompt: Home is Where Your Story Begins, something years in the future, with Billy. What is he like?
By paburke
Disclaimer: faithdaria shares the blame for the OC and the universe, but we don't get any money out of Dean.


Bill Winchester entered the family home as silent as a ghost and with a sigh of relief.  At least, his Uncle Dean always claimed the ghost part and he would know.  Not that a ghost could sneak by him; it was rare for anyone (living or dead) to step onto the Winchester land without Dean knowing, no matter the time of day or night.  Bill had seen the bedroom curtain to his uncle’s house twitch as he was coasting past it with his headlights off.

He dropped his paramedic bag in its assigned location by the door.  Technically he had just finished an uneventful twenty-four hour shift and wouldn’t be required for another two days, but he lived and worked in the boonies of Missouri where it could be an hour to the nearest emergency medical personnel and even further to a hospital.  Dispatch had his number, if someone called 9-1-1 within a certain radius of his home, Bill would be paged.  Hopefully, he’d get some rest.  He was tired and pleased to his bones to be home. 

He peeked in the fridge and, as expected, someone had left a full dinner plate with his name on it.  Bill didn’t bother sitting down, just stood braced against the stove and ate the vegetables.  If he sat, he would wake up there with a crink in his neck when everyone else came down for breakfast.  He ate his sandwich and did a security sweep of the house.  The doors and windows were locked.  The salt lines were clean and sharp.  The wards etched into the panel molding were unmarred.  Someone would have done the same before bed but it wasn’t any one person’s job; it was all of their jobs.

Bill paused in the living room to see the progress on everyone’s projects.  His younger siblings were a creative and talented bunch, without a doubt.  Bill’s talent (or curse depending on how difficult a day it had been) dealt solely with people.  His corner of the living room was the most organized, with stacks of medical journal and books.  A new journal had arrived with the mail and was waiting for him atop the others.  He’d read it tomorrow after lunch. 

His sister had left a simple ‘Billy, run w/me?’ note on the journal.  Bill despaired ever losing the nickname among the family and wondered who was giving MJ a hard time.  Either the boys were being pains in the ass about trading off being her partner or she wanted a listening ear… or a quiet undemanding run.  With the snakes, wolves and other dangerous and occasionally supernatural critters around, it was unwise to be afoot alone.  Bill was far more concerned with the wildlife chasing his sister than he was about some human idiot trying to take advantage of her.  MJ could kick ass with the best of them, always carried a gun and could twist words into weapons like their father.

Bill found a pen and scribbled a ‘sure’ on the note.  He’d find out what was going on tomorrow.  He swallowed the last of his sandwich and headed for bed.  His sister would be waking him for the run before the heat of the day and he wanted a couple hours of sleep before then.

Bill lay on his bed and breathed in the calm security of home.  He could feel the familiar pressure of his family’s sleepy emotions.  No one was having nightmares or remembering traumatic events tonight.  Good.  He double checked the Colt 1911 on his bedside table.  It was filled with silver and iron just he had left it.  He put his work phone beside it.  He wasn’t expecting trouble; he was merely ready for it.

Bill made a mental not to toss the apartment advertisements that his partner had ‘so helpfully’ saved for him.  Some people thought it was weird for him to still live at home but between his loving family, the supernatural wards and the mental protections specifically tuned to his abilities, there was no reason for Bill to move out of the family homestead anytime soon.

 *
Home is a name, a word, it is a strong one; stronger than magician ever spoke, or spirit ever answered to, in the strongest conjuration.
CHARLES DICKENS
 *

Comments

( 2 comments — Leave a comment )
jebbypal
Feb. 22nd, 2013 12:20 pm (UTC)
interesting :)
faithburke
Feb. 22nd, 2013 11:48 pm (UTC)
:) It was fun, giving hints to Billy without spilling everything else we're working on....
( 2 comments — Leave a comment )