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Title: Heroes for Ghosts
Author: [info]gaelicspirit
Genre: GEN
Characters: Dean, Sam
Rating: PG-13 for language and themes
Spoilers: This story is set in Season 1 after 1.16, Shadow
Summary: In an attempt to save a disillusioned hunter from himself, Dean and Sam are caught in a spell that sends them to 1870 Texas. Surviving the old west is hard enough. Escaping it could prove to be impossible.
Disclaimer: They're not mine. More's the pity

 

"Other things may change us, but we start and end with family."

~Anthony Brandt

Salvation, Iowa 2005

He stood quiet and still in front of the display case inside of Benjamin's Antiques and Weaponry.

He knew exactly what he was looking for, even though he had yet to actually hold the weapon. He'd known about it long before they'd found the nest of vampires. He'd seen it in action long before John shot Luther to save Sam.

"Can I help you, son?"

A wizened man with narrow, black-rimmed glasses emerged from behind a thick, green curtain. Dean could smell coffee and bread and something a little too sweet to be appetizing wafting its way from the back room.

"Just looking," Dean replied, his voice cracking slightly.

"You interested in an antique weapon?"

"Maybe," Dean replied, moving away from the display case and turning toward the shelves of books and ammunition.

"Well, if I can show you anything, you just let me know," the man informed him.

"Will do," Dean said without looking.

His head was too full, the memories too loud.

Back in 1835…Samuel Colt made a special gun. He made it for a hunter; a man like us, only on horseback…. This hunter used the gun a half dozen times before he disappeared, the gun along with him….

Dean had listened to his father's words. He hadn't known that it had been made especially for a hunter. Jake had never told them; Max hadn't revealed the information, and anything else was lost to the grave. He knew he could have spoken up then, in that moment where he and his brother sat quietly listening to the almost hypnotic sound of their father's gruff voice. He could have said he'd seen the weapon, seen it in action. He knew how it had been used at least once.

But he said nothing. Neither did Sam. They both let John tell them about this Colt, about his friend Daniel Elkins, and let the past—and their trip back to it—stay a secret.

He didn't know why; they hadn't even discussed why when they were momentarily apart from John preparing for this crazy plan.

"You think this Elkins guy knew about Zeke?" Sam had asked.

"Who knows, Sam?" He'd replied. "For all we know, Zeke was buried with the gun."

"So how'd Elkins get it?" Sam had pressed. "And when?"

"What makes you think I got any more answers than you do?" Dean had snapped. "We let it go, remember? We could've looked into what happened to it after we left, and we didn't."

"Only 'cause we're not obsessed," Sam had muttered just as John returned to the room where they were packing their duffel bags, halting further speculative talk.

Now, the fact that he'd not told his father about the weapon was pointless. They had the weapon. Finding it wasn't the problem.

Using it was.

Dean heard the old man shuffling around behind the display cases and moved quietly to another glass case of weapons, his eyes scanning the makes, the workings of the weapons inside. It had to be just right. If he was going to let his father go up against Meg, it could only be with the perfect ringer.

Look... I don't expect to make it out of this fight in one piece. Your mother's death…it almost killed me. I can't watch my children die, too. I won't.

What happens if you die? Dad, what happens if you die and we could have done somethin' about it? You know, I think maybe Sammy's right about this one. I think we should do this together. We're stronger as a family, Dad. We just are. You know it.

Dean rubbed his face, wanting more than anything to turn on his heel, leave this store, grab his dad and his brother and drive. Just drive. Away from Salvation, away from Monica and her baby, away from Lincoln and Meg and their dead friends.

Just…away.

He wanted to forget that he'd known about this weapon. He wanted to forget that people had died to protect it.

People his dad knew. People he knew. Pastor Jim, Caleb…they had been friends, family. He'd found refuge with Pastor Jim, had recovered from nightmares and pain more times than he could remember inside the safety of that man's shelter.

He'd gotten blind drunk for the first time with Caleb. Had watched the wiry hunter take out a den of werewolves by himself one time when Dean had been too sick to help. He'd trusted that man with Sam's life.

Now they were gone.

Because some demon was after the damn Colt.

And they had it. They had it and the remaining bullets. He didn't know how Elkins had gotten it, where or when the old hunter had found it, but he'd had it, as John said, all this time. And now it was in their possession, this gun that could kill anything. This gun Dean had seen kill a demon.

And John was putting it in his hands. His and Sam's. It would be up to them to face down this demon—alone, without their father, without their unified strength—while John tried to pull a fast one on the bitch busy wreaking havoc on what little was left of their family.

Swallowing, Dean turned to another shelf and his eyes fell on a Colt—a Navy revolver. A shiver went through him. He reached out and slid the protective glass to the side, grasping the Colt and lifting it from the case.

"You like that one, do you?"

"Know anything about it?" Dean asked the old man, turning the gun one way then another, hefting it and sliding the cylinder free to check the load. It was almost as if he recognized the weight of it, the way the grip melded into the curve of his hand.

"Well, let me see," he reached for a large index card that was tied with coarse string to the hammer, peering down the bridge of his nose at the typed information. "Looks like the dealer that rents this particular booth bought it at auction from an estate sale in Texas just a few months ago."

"Where in Texas?" Dean asked, mouth dry.

"Austin," the old man replied. "From the estate of a…Jane McAdams. It was purchased along with several other pieces."

Dean felt his heart thud heavily as he once more regarded the gun in his hand. The grip was some kind of dark material, not ivory as he half expected it to be. The barrel was scuffed and worn. The gun looked ancient.

It is ancient, he realized, registering why he felt such a connection to the weapon. He may have only seen it a couple of months ago, but it hadn't been new since the Civil War.

"What other pieces?" Dean asked.

"Well, let's see," the old man replied. "Looks like several history books, some furniture, pieces of a Civil War-era doctor's kit, that type of thing. Seems most everything has been sold, though."

"I'm," Dean paused, clearing his throat. He seemed unable to let go of the gun. "I'm looking for a Colt built around 1835. Or as close to it as I can get."

"Well, that one there is a '68," the man told him. "In excellent condition for such a weapon. With a decent cleaning, it'll still fire. What do you need it for?"

To save my father's life, Dean nearly said, literally biting his tongue to keep from speaking aloud. "For, uh, a reenactment."

"Don't know that I have one much older than that if you need it to work. I can see if I can dig up some more information on it, if it would help you. Or call the dealer who is selling it."

Dean didn't know why he was stalling. He knew this was Tom O'Maera's gun; the weapon he'd borrowed from the little girl who'd saved his life, the weapon he'd used to hold off the men trying to finish the job they started when they shot Sam. He felt it. In a sea of weapons, across a sea of years, it had found its way to Salvation, Iowa, to this antique shop. To the only place he'd been able to go in the time allowed him to find a stunt double of a weapon.

A stunt double for the weapon that had been the catalyst for Dean to have used this weapon in the first place. His head spun. There were too many coincidences tied up in this history, in this fold in time. Too many unanswered questions.

And right now, he had a job to do, and people waiting for him and he had to make a damn decision.

Look, besides us and a couple vampires, no one's really seen the gun. No one knows what it looks like.

With his father's words backing him up, Dean looked at the old man. "Naw, that's okay. I'll take this one."

"Excellent choice," the man replied with a crooked, tooth-free grin.

Dean felt strangely hollow as he watched the old man ring up the gun, then wrap it in a piece of paper. He slid the weapon in the pocket of his leather jacket and returned to the Impala, the bell above the door in the antique store ringing an ominous farewell.

The trip to the agreed-upon meeting place felt as if it went too fast and took too long. He needed to get back to Sam, back to Dad, but he knew the minute he arrived, John would be leaving them. Again.

And when he did, there was a very good chance that this time, he wouldn't be back.

You boys…you tell your Dad...You tell him…to hang on to you…. Nothing…nothing as strong as family.

The final words of a dying hunter were crawling around inside Dean's brain and he shook his head, willing silence to take control, quiet the voices, muffle the memories. He saw Sam and John standing outside of John's black truck in the middle of an open field, just beneath a highway overpass. He pulled to a stop, took a breath, and got out.

"Did you get it?" John asked.

For one moment, Dean considered lying. If he didn't have a fake Colt, John would have nothing to give Meg. He wouldn't be able to leave.

But then more of their friends would die.

Or they could take the actual Colt to Meg—together, all of them—but then Monica would die and another family would be sentenced to the same Hell Dean and Sam had lived their whole lives.

Pressing his lips together, Dean reached into his pocket and pulled out the paper-wrapped weapon.

Words danced on the tip of his tongue; he could almost taste the confession. It's a good gun, Dad. I've fired it before. A hundred years ago. It belonged to a hunter—a guy like us.

He handed the package to John. "You know this is a trap, don't you? That's why Meg wants you to come alone."

"I can handle her," his Dad replied with familiar, frustrating confidence. It twisted Dean's heart. "I got a whole arsenal loaded: holy water, Mandaic amulets—"

"Dad..."

"What?" John's question was edged.

Dean saw it in his father's eyes: he knew what Dean wanted to say, what he couldn't say. He knew he was probably walking away from them for the last time. He saw it and it burned through him.

It don't matter what you want…It matters what you're gonna do...Please…promise me….

"Promise me something," Dean forced out, bringing his eyes up to meet John's.

"What's that?" John asked, cautiously.

Dean felt Sam standing close to him quiet, tense. He felt his brother's uncertainty, anger and hope. He felt his father's resolution, regret, and excitement. Above it all, he felt his own fear. In this moment, he was willing to do anything—anything—to get these two out of this fucked up situation.

"This thing goes south, just get the hell out. Don't get yourself killed, all right? You're no good to us dead."

John swallowed, his dark eyes seeming to take in his sons as if quietly embracing them. "Same goes for you," he said softly. Then he took a breath, shaking himself slightly. "All right, listen to me. " He pulled the real Colt from his pocket. Dean saw that he'd made the right choice: the guns were close enough. "They made the bullets special for this Colt. There's only four of 'em left. Without 'em, this gun is useless. You make every shot count."

Dean couldn't speak.

"Yes, sir," Sam replied, his voice sounding young in the vacuum of air that Dean suddenly felt pressing around them.

John looked down at the weapon in his hands, his voice turning soft, sad. "I've been waiting a long time for this fight. Now it's here, and I'm not gonna be in it." He looked up at them and Dean felt breathless by the look captured in John's eyes. He couldn't quite identify it. It almost…looked like…pride. "It's up to you boys now. It's your fight. You finish this. You finish what I started. You understand?"

Dean pressed his lips together, holding back any words of protest, of warning, of truth. He didn't want his father to see the emotion his mask of determination was barely keeping in check. He wanted to send him off to this fight with the faith that they would all come back together when it was done.

He would see his father again.

His nod mirrored Sam's and he took the Colt from his dad and slipped it into the pocket of his coat.

Sam spoke up, his voice confident, encouraging. "We'll see you soon, Dad."

John smiled at them, both of them, and Dean felt cold. He was suddenly a child again, wanting to feel the weight of his father's hand on his shoulder—the recognizable weight of that one hand, resting there, reassuring in his solidarity, telling him without words that everything was going to be okay.

Because he wasn't so sure anymore.

"I'll see you later," John replied.

He looked at them one last time, and then as if looking any longer would change his mind, John turned, climbed into his truck, and drove away without a backward glance. Dean heard Sam sniff next to him, knew his brother was working to not give in to tears.

"Later," Dean said softly to the fading taillights of the truck.

Before Sam could say anything to him, Dean turned away, heading to the trunk of the Impala, the weight of the Colt tipping his jacket crookedly on his body. He knew Sam needed to hear something reassuring, a cocky we got this epithet of reassurance. But he wasn't sure he could muster the strength to speak those words.

I should have said something…I should have told him a long time ago.

"What good would it have done?" Sam asked quietly.

"How do you do that?" Dean asked quietly, not looking at his brother.

"I was thinking the same thing," Sam confessed. "Neither of us said anything. Both of us could have."

"He wouldn't have believed us," Dean said, looking down. "And he would have been pissed."

"You're only saying that because of what he said about my visions," Sam said, opening the trunk and holding out his hand.

Dean pulled the Colt from his pocket and handed it to his brother. "And because it's true."

"He would've believed us," Sam argued. "Why would we make something like that up?"

"If you're so sure, how come you didn't say anything?" Dean asked, half-turning to face his brother.

Sam swallowed. "'Cause," he shrugged, his eyes on the interior of the trunk. "By the time he found us again, he already basically knew where the Colt was. He would've gotten it with or without us." He looked up at Dean. "And all that stuff that happened in Texas? Happened to us. It was ours."

Dean looked away. He didn't know if he agreed with Sam's reasons; he didn't even really know what his own were. He felt certain he was going to regret keeping from his father the fact that they'd seen the Colt before.

But life doesn't allow for the nostalgic reparations that backward glances encourage.

"Dean?"

"Yeah." His voice was barely audible.

"We're gonna be okay," Sam asserted.

Dean looked at his brother, unable to reply, unable in the moment to agree. After a few heartbeats of time he turned away, heading to the driver's side of the Impala.

"C'mon," he said. "We've got a mom to stalk and a baby to save."

And a demon to kill, he promised himself. Because one way or another, you bastard, we are ending you.

The deep rumble of the Impala punctuated his vow.

www


a/n:
There you go! I hope you've enjoyed. I have treasured each and every one of your reviews.

I keep telling myself that I'm going to stop writing fanfic at some point and focus on my original stories, but then I get a new SPN-infused idea and it becomes an after this one promise to myself. I suppose I just enjoy this escape too much. I know one day ya'll are going to get tired of me, but I do enjoy your comments almost as much as I enjoy telling the story.

So, for now, you'll be seeing more of me. Even if it's just a one-shot here or there (oh, and a planned co-write with a lovely writer, LovinJackson).

Slainte!


Comments

( 56 Tall Tales — Tell Me A Story )
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adrenalineshots
Jun. 25th, 2010 10:29 pm (UTC)
So many wonderful things to say about this final chapter and epilogue. Never mind the fact that your writing skills managed to keep me interested -read gripping the edge of my seat- in a cowboys story, never mind that the whole plot is so well slotted in the rest of the series' canon that its easy to believe that it could've actually happen... this is SPN at its best!
Intriguing case, compelling and heartfelt characters, and the brothers coming out stronger in the end.

I do not need to tell you that this was an amazing ride. You should know that already ;)
What I want to tell you is thank you :)
gaelicspirit
Jun. 26th, 2010 01:16 pm (UTC)
Hi you,

Thank you so much for sticking with me despite the WIP and for leaving me feedback along the way. I have truly treasured your input and am so happy that you were entertained.

It sounds weird but, thank you for thanking me. It's such a simple thing, but it means so much. Because, as a fellow writer, you know how much time and worry and effort goes into a story and how much you hope each time you post that even though it's not going to hit the spot for everyone (can't please all the people all the time), you hope it hits it for enough.

I'm very happy this worked for you. I hope to hear from you again.

My best,
Gaelic
seesmooshrun
Jun. 25th, 2010 11:20 pm (UTC)
I don't know how you *do* that, but I will never look at that scene from "Salvation" the same way again.

Thank you so much for this story. I echo adrenalineshots in saying that this was wonderful. And thank you. It was a great ride. And unlike Sam, there are no sore muscles in the aftermath.
gaelicspirit
Jun. 26th, 2010 01:18 pm (UTC)
So, I have this particular way I see the moments after John drove away in that episode. I've written it in different stories -- some that haven't been posted yet because they're zine stories -- for different reasons, but it always has the same rhythm.

And I'm really glad you liked what you saw here. :)

I'm glad you enjoyed this ride, my friend, and I'm TOTALLY a fan of no sore muscles. *grin*
mdlaw
Jun. 26th, 2010 05:00 am (UTC)
I really enjoyed this. The case was interesting and you know believable. The boys were spot on. And Dean as a real cowboy, whoa. m :)
gaelicspirit
Jun. 26th, 2010 01:18 pm (UTC)
LOL - loved the 'whoa' on that end of that. *grins*

Thank you so much for reading and commenting. I really appreciate your time and I'm thrilled you enjoyed!!
amberdreams
Jun. 26th, 2010 08:21 am (UTC)
I am glad to hear you still have plenty of ideas to keep you (and us) going for a while, SPN certainly seems to provide the imagination with exceedingly fertile ground!

Your epilogue nicely tied your story in with the series; I liked the replacement colt being the one Dean had used in the past, this wasn't such a stretch as perhaps it should have been somehow, it seemed *right*.
You are a very cruel woman, beating poor old Dean up afresh for his return (and I love you for it!). It always twists my stomach to have Dean woozily worrying about Sam when he should be worrying abut himself *sigh*.

One plotting device that really made me chuckle - when you suddenly thought about Dean's amulet and how it would have survived (or not) the transition between present and past and back again - I don't know if you had had this in mind all the time but whatever - it was a neat save!!

That actually illustrated one of those time travel conundrums writers wrestle with - but I think there is an inherent problem here anyway, because if the premise is that clothing and other items will suffer some sort of degradation/trauma through the travelling, why would the organic material that forms a human body not suffer equally badly? I had the same problem with The Time Traveller's Wife - he travelled but his clothes didn't - and this never made sense to me. A scientific friend told me that Audrey Niffennegger's science was poor - I'm not one to judge but certainly the logic of that didn't work for me.

Also out of interest, on the same topic, I read somewhere recently that the farther back in time you go, the less likely it is that you could affect the timeline - which makes sense when you think about it. So Dean going back to his own immediate family timeline presumably could have had an effect, but going back to his great grand parents/great great grand parents time would have less consequential impact, no matter what he did.

I have no idea how that fits with canon for the show mind you, let alone with the whole idea of angels and demons, destiny and freewill!!!
gaelicspirit
Jun. 26th, 2010 01:28 pm (UTC)
Hi you! Thanks for the detailed comments! I really appreciate the time you took to read and offer me your thoughts.

Let's see...the amulet and leather jacket. I had actually always planned on that being one of those "oh, thank God I wasn't wearing them" moments because I seemed to remember (and this was probably just me, so no big) that Dean didn't always have the amulet on in the first Season. Or at least we couldn't always see it. Maybe it was more that we didn't always see it, but I wanted to have one of those, "okay, now I'm never taking this off because I almost didn't make it back to it" moments.

After your comment, though, I can see why it probably looked like I just remembered it. LOL. Ah, well. Perception and all of that.

I TOTALLY hear you in the whole "science" of clothes being shredded (or shedded) while the body survives the journey of time travel. But...honestly? We're talking about TIME TRAVEL. That's why I bought it in The Time Traveler's Wife -- because I was like, well, it's not like people have actually ever done this before and could say this is not the way it would happen. And there are times that the laws of physics have no hold for me -- especially in fiction.

Which is the reason I put in the "please suspend reality" caveat in some of these stories. Like this one, and Desolation Angels when they fought pirates in the middle of the desert. It's one of those requests for you to just escape and be entertained because I don't know exactly how it works. And that's part of the fun of it (for me, anyway).

As far as whether or not they directly impacted their present time, that's a very good point -- and exactly the reason I wrote it that way. :) I wanted it to be more of a pebble in a pond effect -- rippling its way through time. So that they wouldn't have necessarily seen a direct effect, but their influence was felt in smaller ways: Bird's strength as an adult and Zeke's chosen names for his kids, for example.

Their impact was on the people, not the history. And by changing the people in small, almost unnoticable ways, they changed the history. But that's also why I kept it vague because it's too easy to be specific. It's harder to wonder.

Do you know what I mean?

Thank you again for reading.
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msninacat
Jun. 26th, 2010 10:03 am (UTC)
I don't have the right words to tell you how much I enjoyed your story so I'm going to go pimp it instead. ♥
gaelicspirit
Jun. 26th, 2010 01:29 pm (UTC)
Dude -- I'm totally cool with pimpage. :) Thanks for that!
simplycolourful
Jun. 26th, 2010 10:03 am (UTC)
Dude! Nice twist :) I love it.
gaelicspirit
Jun. 26th, 2010 01:29 pm (UTC)
Thanks! :) *grin* I'm glad you liked.
aaricia_mtl
Jun. 26th, 2010 05:22 pm (UTC)
A real good story!
Thanks a lot!
gaelicspirit
Jun. 27th, 2010 01:59 am (UTC)
Re: A real good story!
Thank you! I'm so pleased you thought so. Thanks for reading.
ash48
Jun. 27th, 2010 09:52 am (UTC)
Hi there,

Popping by to let you know how much I throughly enjoyed your story. I always enjoy your stories, but finding the time to read them is often a challenge - especially as they are so wonderfully long and detailed.

I've been reading this the last few days and each day I've been desperate to get back to it to see what happens next.

As alway, love your OC's. They are always so strong and interesting. Of course the way you write the boys is probably one of my most favourite things - such wonderful love between them and the h/c is always spot one.

Love the way you tied this story to canon, especially the twist at the end with the colt. And what a perfect setting! The West. The show has a "western" feel about it, so it fit perfectly as a back drop.

Any. Awesome story. Fabulous writing. Loved it!

<333
gaelicspirit
Jun. 27th, 2010 01:11 pm (UTC)
Thanks so much, ash! I'm so pleased you were entertained by the story -- and I can't tell you how happy I am that you enjoy the OCs. :) That makes everything you said just a bit brighter. :)

I'm glad you were engaged each week. I look forward to seeing you again.

Best,
Gaelic
primrose_1
Jun. 28th, 2010 04:56 am (UTC)
Hooray! I was waiting for some little zinger that connected everything, and you delivered in spades! Of COURSE the gun Dean found to be the fake Colt should have special significance. Clever, girl, very clever. Beautiful wrap up to a great story. Thank you, by the way, for making Dean take a LONG time to get over the dizziness. I know that feeling, and it's good to have someone else, even fictional, share it. :)
gaelicspirit
Jun. 30th, 2010 01:50 pm (UTC)
Thank you so much for coming to the end with me. I hope you were able to get through these last chapters without tears. I'm still sending you hugs for your loss, but so happy you were able to find some escape here in these words of a wannabe storyteller.

I look forward to seeing you again!
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(Anonymous)
Jun. 28th, 2010 11:44 pm (UTC)
Yippee! I loved it! You are a master of the details, and didn't need to wory that you would be able to tie everything in. I thought it was wonderful. I think it just fits perfectly between the episodes.

Also, purely because of this story that I DVR'd the original Magnificent Seven movie this past weekend! I haven't had a chance to watch it yet, but am excited to.

Thanks for sharing all this with us.

Teri =)
gaelicspirit
Jun. 30th, 2010 01:53 pm (UTC)
Hi there!!

I'm so happy you enjoyed! *GRINS* The reason I liked the original Mag 7 (the movie) was Steven McQueen. He plays Vin Tanner, though, not Chris Larabee. Never was much of a Yul Brenner fan, but McQueen, man...he was tough as nails, and quietly dangerous and while he wasn't conventionally attractive (he's no Jensen), he had this sex appeal that just...mrrrowww. Good Lord. I may need to go watch that again myself.

The Chris Larabee I wove into this story as a cameo was the one from the TV Show played by Michael Biehn. The gal who asked that I write a western -- Kelly -- has a thing for that character and actor, so it was a gift to her. :)

Thank you so much for reading and swinging by to tell me that you enjoyed. Means the world to me. :)

My best,
Gaelic
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apieceofcake
Jun. 29th, 2010 06:58 pm (UTC)
You are a wonderful storyteller! So on a purely selfish level I'm glad the SPN bunnies keep sidetracking you .

Thanks for another very enjoyable read ♥

xx.
gaelicspirit
Jun. 30th, 2010 01:54 pm (UTC)
Yeah, those darn bunnies... ;)

In fact, I was thinking of seeking you out to see if you'd do a banner/icon thingy for this one-shot idea I have. I'm not sure when it will be written/posted, but I dreamed it and it won't let me go and I honestly can't wait to put it down on paper. It's a Season 5 story, and I haven't ventured there yet.

Thank you for reading and I'm really pleased you enjoyed it. :)

*hugs*
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patty1h
Jun. 30th, 2010 08:45 pm (UTC)
This was a wonderful story. I was engrossed by the time travel theme and thought you did an excellent job depicting the world of the 1800's.

The 'past' characters were beautifully fleshed out - I really loved Zeke and Bird. I like how you showed that Bird made a difference in the town's history. Nice touch.

Great job.

gaelicspirit
Jun. 30th, 2010 11:52 pm (UTC)
Thanks so much! *does dance* I'm so pleased you enjoyed and were entertained by this.

I'm thrilled you liked Zeke and Bird. I really enjoyed writing them. I actually miss Zeke a bit. Been kinda toying with bringing him back. :)

I hope to hear from you again!

Best to you,
Gaelic
hoodietime
Jun. 30th, 2010 11:46 pm (UTC)
I stayed up super-late the other night devouring this, and now I'm back to leave fb. ;)

I'm so impressed with how well-thought out this is, from the casefile itself, to the twists and turns you put in there, to your awesome OCs. And the idea of Dean as a cowboy was a bonus! YUM.

Anyway, thanks for the amazing read!
gaelicspirit
Jun. 30th, 2010 11:54 pm (UTC)
Wheee!! You came back!!

*bounces*

That makes me very happy. I'm glad you were entertained by it all and not really at all sorry you stayed up late to read! LOL!

Thanks for giving it a go and I truly hope to see you 'round here again sometime.

Slainte!
Gaelic
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arafel979
Jul. 2nd, 2010 01:58 am (UTC)
I LOVE! westerns, Gaelic, and your Supernatural western was simply awesome. I'd love an episode(or a movie!) just like this. :-)
I can see our Dean so perfectly and clearly, in my mind's eye, in this setting. As always, LOVED all the HurtDean in this one-the Fr. Ramirez "save" of our boy being especially *tingle*-inducing for me!!

And this little bit...

"Sam sighed softly. He couldn't leave Dean now…not now when they'd seen so much, survived so much, and when there were so many questions still to be answered. And there was something…breakable inside his brother."

is something of this one that I think will stay with me. Thanks and kudos, girlfriend. You done good. ;-)



gaelicspirit
Jul. 2nd, 2010 01:45 pm (UTC)
*claps*

I've missed you!!! Your thought process and impressions were always a welcome addition to my rambles.

This made me happy! First to see that you've read, but mostly that you enjoyed! I'm so pleased you had fun with it. :)

Thank you for spending time with me and taking a moment to let me know how the story impacted you.

Best to you always!!

Gaelic
lomer
Jul. 4th, 2010 04:11 am (UTC)
Great story!
gaelicspirit
Jul. 5th, 2010 01:48 am (UTC)
Thank you - so glad you enjoyed. :)
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