Title: (Minor Tremor 1) - (Minor Tremor 2) - (Minor Tremor 3) - (Minor Tremor 4) - (Minor Tremor 5) - (Minor Tremor 6) - (Minor Tremor 7) - (Minor Tremor 8) - (Minor Tremor 9) - (Minor Tremor 10) - (Minor Tremor 11)
accompaniment(s) to: With a Bang
Rating: SPN/DA Crossover - PG - Gen – AU in the year 2020
Spoilers: General (for all aired episodes)
Disclaimers: SPN & DA characters are owned by their various creators.
Summary: Alec POV. Alec has Post-Traumatic-Crab-Disorder.
Alec liked the back porch.
He wasn’t sure if it met all the requirements a typical back porch was supposed to, but it was one of his favorite places to be. Well, within the finite and limited places to be had in the house.
The hand-rolled cigarette was removed from his fingers and briefly examined before Dean took a drag off it. The exhale of smoke turned into a sigh of disappointment when it became clear there was nothing there burning but tobacco.
“You like it?“ Alec took it back before it was flicked into the bushes. “I’m working on a few new hobbies.”
“It’s what people always do in the movies to relax.”
“That’s nice,“ Dean spit over the railing. “It’s never too late to start a cancer collection.”
“Your pessimism doesn’t affect me,” Alec said. “Besides, many people enjoy tobacco products without developing tumors.”
“Just more of you to love.” Dean said. “How’s that for the bright side?”
Biting down on the cigarette, Alec shoved his hands under his arms and bounced a few times to warm up. The early morning sun was taking its sweet time coming up behind the rain clouds and with a brush of cold wind it didn’t bode much else besides more rain. But that was okay. Alec was looking forward to a couple more shitty days that required nothing but his silence. It was kind of Zen-like laying around and listening to water collect in the pots he’d strategically placed under the leaks in the attic roof.
Boring as hell, but definitely Zen.
“Want some waffles?” Dean asked. “I was thinking about chipping a couple out of the freezer.”
“You gotta eat something, Alec.”
“No I don’t.”
“How about some Lucky Charms?” Dean tried to sell it with a smile. “I’ll even pick out all the horse shoes for ya.”
Alec executed a smoke ring that perfectly framed his uncle’s face.
“So you almost died eating a crab,” Dean said. “Just because you fall off the horse doesn’t mean you give up.”
Alec glanced over at the mug of hot steaming water he’d been enjoying for breakfast. What more did any guy really need besides hot water and a smoke anyway? If he really wanted to be honest the combination of weak coffee and an unfiltered cigarette was making him thinking about throwing up again. But thinking about the alternative in the kitchen’s cupboards and drawers didn’t make his stomach feel any better.
He ground out his smoke into the damp wood of the porch floor.
“Alec, lots of people have allergies.”
“Oh, yeah? Name one famous person with an allergy.”
“Because they’re aren’t any.”
“I think I heard somethin’ about Jodie Foster bein’ a lesbian once?”
“I broke into the doctor’s office again.” Alec said. “I looked up everyone in the local population and only one other person in this whole town has a food allergy and he’s 98.”
“See?” Dean pointed. “You’re not alone.”
“He has a nut allergy,” Alec made a fist. “What I wouldn’t GIVE for one of those.”
“Ok, ok, I think you’re just looking at this all the wrong way,” Dean said. “Think of it like your other.. Uh, gift?”
Alec narrowed his eyes.
“Okay,“ Dean conceded. “It’s a weird kinda shitty gift but it was given to you and there’s no arguing it’s pretty special…”
“Are you fucking kidding me?”
“It’s called gettin' a philosophy. Apparently it brings meaning to what seems like meaningless bullshit. Like almost getting killed by a crab.”
Alec wondered if his uncle might have been doing more listening than sleeping at Sam lectures in the church down the hill. He followed Dean back inside when he heard the door opened for him. There wasn’t much point in standing out in the rain with no more cigarettes to pretend to like.
“Damn,” Dean grumbled. “Would you look at the size of that thing?”
Looking around for any and all possible things his uncle may be referring to, Alec tried to get into the mood for food. Besides the inadequately sized television and the causal disaster of their living room there was only one other object of note.
The not so tiny cat.
“Have you been feeding him after I do?” Dean demanded. “’Cause I think the bastard is doubling in size by the hour.”
“What makes you say that?”
“Look at him!” Dean poked his boot at the ample belly spread over the floor. “He’s gettin’ a little sloppy don’t ya think?”
“That’s not fat.”
“What would you call it?”
“No way.” Dean reexamined the pendulous belly that had been swinging under the cat’s undercarriage. “Oh, man. Seriously?”
“’Fraid so.” Alec nodded. “Couple weeks.”
“B-But he’s just a child himself.”
“Must be a family thing.”
His uncle picked up the yawning feline with a frown of disgust.
“Hey,” Alec took a seat at the table. “Did you say something about waffles?”
“What? Oh yeah, right, uh, you got it… want some eggs too?”
Alec got comfortable to the sound of the toaster and the sizzle of butter melting in the pan. Scratching the purring cat behind the ears, he thought that eating again might not be such a bad idea.
Besides, he’d always read that smoking could cause low birth weight.