Fic: Prophet
Nov. 10th, 2019 02:02 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ellerkayPutting the header for this fic under the cut because even the header contains SPOILERS for S15E04, Atomic Monsters.
Title: Prophet
Genre: Gen
Characters: Becky Rosen, Roy, Sam, Dean
Rating: Teen/PG-13
Word Count: 1,089
Disclaimer: All for fun, none for profit.
Summary: What happens to Becky after the events of S15E04, Atomic Monsters.
Warnings/tags: Spoilers for Atomic Monsters, coda, a little humor, a little bit of a horror vibe, fandom stuff, kinda meta
A/N: Who would have thought before Atomic Monsters that I'd be writing fic about Becky Rosen?? NOT ME, THAT IS FOR SURE. I'm over the moon that she's turned into a character I can actually enjoy.
Read on AO3
***
Becky stared at Chuck. He snapped his fingers and her vision blurred.
A split second later she found herself in London – in the middle of the British Library – with her husband and her children. A very, very unexpected kindness from Chuck. So was the location. Stranding them in an English-speaking country in a populated area, rather than…what? Hell? A black void? He could, it seemed, have sent them anywhere. Perhaps he’d been grateful for the beta read.
Becky remembered telling Chuck years ago, on their first date, how she’d always wanted to go to the British Library. She shuddered.
And then she pulled herself together. With the skills she had acquired from years of organizing fan conventions and fic exchanges, as well as from running her own business, Becky pulled out her phone and found the closest affordable hotel. Roy had his wallet in his pocket, thank –
Becky shuddered again and set off, pulling the kids and Roy after her.
“Later,” she said, when Roy, understandably bewildered and probably in mild shock, asked her what was going on. “I’ll try to explain later.”
If she could. It would be like trying to explain the plot of a particularly convoluted and outrageous Supernatural book.
Later, after the kids had fallen asleep (and Roy, who had laid down with them to try and calm them – poor things, they were all exhausted) Becky opened Discord and went to her main SPN fan group.
She didn’t know what else to do. Fandom had always been a go-to in times of crisis. Now she had Roy, too, of course…But fandom had been in her life longer, and Roy needed his rest. Plus, if there was anyone who might be able to understand what she was going through, it was Supernatural fans.
Carver Edlund, she wrote, is God.
She only had to wait a minute for a response. Haha yeah, praise be to Edlund for all he hath bestowed upon us.
Becky frowned at her phone. No, she typed. I mean I saw him today and he was a total creep and he has these weird powers and he said he was GOD.
A couple minutes went by with no reply. Finally, she got a DM notification from her oldest fandom friend; the only one she’d ever told about her short-lived relationship with Chuck.
Becky, are you okay? it said.
Becky sighed and put down her phone. What was she thinking? Of course they wouldn’t understand. How could they? They all still thought Supernatural was just a book series. The few times people had shown up in the fandom claiming to have actually experienced a vampire attack or met two FBI agents with rock aliases, they’d been dismissed as kooks.
But Becky knew the truth now. And she had to get the information into the hands of the only two people who had a snowball’s chance in hell of doing something about it.
***
Becky and her family got back to America, but Becky wouldn’t let them go home. She knew what was waiting for them there. Roy looked worried, but accepted it when she insisted they stay with his parents for a while. He was an atheist and didn’t even believe in ghosts, but after being involuntarily teleported to England, even he was starting to suspect there might be something more out there.
He didn’t push her for explanations until she told him she was going to need to hit the road for a while. Alone. She wasn’t sure for how long.
“Why?” he asked for the thousandth time, as she packed a suitcase with some of the things they’d picked up to replace their possessions, now far out of reach.
Becky sighed and looked up at him. “It’s complicated,” she said again. “But there is something I have to do. It’s important. I’ll try and explain it to you when I’m back.”
“Are you coming back?” he asked softly.
Becky’s heart felt like it was breaking. She put down the shirt she’d been folding and took his face in her hands. “Yes,” she said, and kissed him gently. “As soon as I can.”
If I can, she thought grimly. She knew all too well what happened to female characters in Supernatural. And she had the frightening feeling that she was becoming a part of Chuck’s story.
As she drove down the highway, through the night – just like Sam and Dean had done for all those years – Becky started to wonder if this was what Chuck had planned for her. He hadn’t killed her or sent her so far away she couldn’t come back. She was just tired enough that her thoughts were a little unmoored, and she imagined herself as a prophet of doom. Standing on street corners holding signs that said “Beware Chuck” or the classic “The End Is Nigh.”
A prophet. Just like Chuck had pretended to be. Becky started shivering and couldn’t stop even when she turned the heat in the car on high.
***
It took time, but eventually she managed to track down the Winchesters. Neither of them looked at all happy to see her. And who, Becky thought, could blame them? Dean had his gun at the ready in a second. Becky put her hands up, even though he wasn’t actually pointing it at her.
“Hi,” she said, helplessly awkward. “It’s…been a long time.”
“Not long enough,” Dean growled.
Becky pressed her lips together. “I know,” she said wretchedly. “And I owe you both an apology. A lot of apologies. Especially – Sam…” She barely glanced at him, unable to make herself meet his eyes. “I’m so, so sorry for what I did to you. I wish I could take it back and I know I never can and that an apology isn’t enough. And I don’t expect you to forgive me.” She took a deep breath. “But please, you have to listen to me. Please.”
“Why should we?” Sam asked quietly, sounding more curious than angry.
“Because I saw Chuck.” She risked a glance up and saw them exchange a look. A little part of her brain said squee! silent Winchester communication! She told it to hush. This was not the time.
“When?” Dean asked.
“A few weeks ago,” she said. “I know he’s God.” She took another breath. “And I know what he’s planning for you.”
Sam and Dean looked at each other again. Sam gave a barely perceptible nod. Dean heaved a sigh and tucked his gun back into his waistband.
“Okay,” he said. “Talk.”
Title: Prophet
Genre: Gen
Characters: Becky Rosen, Roy, Sam, Dean
Rating: Teen/PG-13
Word Count: 1,089
Disclaimer: All for fun, none for profit.
Summary: What happens to Becky after the events of S15E04, Atomic Monsters.
Warnings/tags: Spoilers for Atomic Monsters, coda, a little humor, a little bit of a horror vibe, fandom stuff, kinda meta
A/N: Who would have thought before Atomic Monsters that I'd be writing fic about Becky Rosen?? NOT ME, THAT IS FOR SURE. I'm over the moon that she's turned into a character I can actually enjoy.
Read on AO3
***
Becky stared at Chuck. He snapped his fingers and her vision blurred.
A split second later she found herself in London – in the middle of the British Library – with her husband and her children. A very, very unexpected kindness from Chuck. So was the location. Stranding them in an English-speaking country in a populated area, rather than…what? Hell? A black void? He could, it seemed, have sent them anywhere. Perhaps he’d been grateful for the beta read.
Becky remembered telling Chuck years ago, on their first date, how she’d always wanted to go to the British Library. She shuddered.
And then she pulled herself together. With the skills she had acquired from years of organizing fan conventions and fic exchanges, as well as from running her own business, Becky pulled out her phone and found the closest affordable hotel. Roy had his wallet in his pocket, thank –
Becky shuddered again and set off, pulling the kids and Roy after her.
“Later,” she said, when Roy, understandably bewildered and probably in mild shock, asked her what was going on. “I’ll try to explain later.”
If she could. It would be like trying to explain the plot of a particularly convoluted and outrageous Supernatural book.
Later, after the kids had fallen asleep (and Roy, who had laid down with them to try and calm them – poor things, they were all exhausted) Becky opened Discord and went to her main SPN fan group.
She didn’t know what else to do. Fandom had always been a go-to in times of crisis. Now she had Roy, too, of course…But fandom had been in her life longer, and Roy needed his rest. Plus, if there was anyone who might be able to understand what she was going through, it was Supernatural fans.
Carver Edlund, she wrote, is God.
She only had to wait a minute for a response. Haha yeah, praise be to Edlund for all he hath bestowed upon us.
Becky frowned at her phone. No, she typed. I mean I saw him today and he was a total creep and he has these weird powers and he said he was GOD.
A couple minutes went by with no reply. Finally, she got a DM notification from her oldest fandom friend; the only one she’d ever told about her short-lived relationship with Chuck.
Becky, are you okay? it said.
Becky sighed and put down her phone. What was she thinking? Of course they wouldn’t understand. How could they? They all still thought Supernatural was just a book series. The few times people had shown up in the fandom claiming to have actually experienced a vampire attack or met two FBI agents with rock aliases, they’d been dismissed as kooks.
But Becky knew the truth now. And she had to get the information into the hands of the only two people who had a snowball’s chance in hell of doing something about it.
***
Becky and her family got back to America, but Becky wouldn’t let them go home. She knew what was waiting for them there. Roy looked worried, but accepted it when she insisted they stay with his parents for a while. He was an atheist and didn’t even believe in ghosts, but after being involuntarily teleported to England, even he was starting to suspect there might be something more out there.
He didn’t push her for explanations until she told him she was going to need to hit the road for a while. Alone. She wasn’t sure for how long.
“Why?” he asked for the thousandth time, as she packed a suitcase with some of the things they’d picked up to replace their possessions, now far out of reach.
Becky sighed and looked up at him. “It’s complicated,” she said again. “But there is something I have to do. It’s important. I’ll try and explain it to you when I’m back.”
“Are you coming back?” he asked softly.
Becky’s heart felt like it was breaking. She put down the shirt she’d been folding and took his face in her hands. “Yes,” she said, and kissed him gently. “As soon as I can.”
If I can, she thought grimly. She knew all too well what happened to female characters in Supernatural. And she had the frightening feeling that she was becoming a part of Chuck’s story.
As she drove down the highway, through the night – just like Sam and Dean had done for all those years – Becky started to wonder if this was what Chuck had planned for her. He hadn’t killed her or sent her so far away she couldn’t come back. She was just tired enough that her thoughts were a little unmoored, and she imagined herself as a prophet of doom. Standing on street corners holding signs that said “Beware Chuck” or the classic “The End Is Nigh.”
A prophet. Just like Chuck had pretended to be. Becky started shivering and couldn’t stop even when she turned the heat in the car on high.
***
It took time, but eventually she managed to track down the Winchesters. Neither of them looked at all happy to see her. And who, Becky thought, could blame them? Dean had his gun at the ready in a second. Becky put her hands up, even though he wasn’t actually pointing it at her.
“Hi,” she said, helplessly awkward. “It’s…been a long time.”
“Not long enough,” Dean growled.
Becky pressed her lips together. “I know,” she said wretchedly. “And I owe you both an apology. A lot of apologies. Especially – Sam…” She barely glanced at him, unable to make herself meet his eyes. “I’m so, so sorry for what I did to you. I wish I could take it back and I know I never can and that an apology isn’t enough. And I don’t expect you to forgive me.” She took a deep breath. “But please, you have to listen to me. Please.”
“Why should we?” Sam asked quietly, sounding more curious than angry.
“Because I saw Chuck.” She risked a glance up and saw them exchange a look. A little part of her brain said squee! silent Winchester communication! She told it to hush. This was not the time.
“When?” Dean asked.
“A few weeks ago,” she said. “I know he’s God.” She took another breath. “And I know what he’s planning for you.”
Sam and Dean looked at each other again. Sam gave a barely perceptible nod. Dean heaved a sigh and tucked his gun back into his waistband.
“Okay,” he said. “Talk.”
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2019-11-10 07:16 pm (UTC)This made me feel a bit better--I was so upset by what Chuck did to her!!!
no subject
Date: 2019-11-11 02:49 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2019-11-12 11:05 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2019-11-14 03:11 pm (UTC)I'm so glad you liked this!! Thank you for the lovely comment. <333
no subject
Date: 2019-11-13 12:11 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2019-11-14 03:10 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2019-11-15 04:30 am (UTC)And this:
“Hi,” she said, helplessly awkward. “It’s…been a long time.”
“Not long enough,” Dean growled.
Becky pressed her lips together. “I know,” she said wretchedly. “And I owe you both an apology. A lot of apologies. Especially – Sam…” She barely glanced at him, unable to make herself meet his eyes. “I’m so, so sorry for what I did to you. I wish I could take it back and I know I never can and that an apology isn’t enough. And I don’t expect you to forgive me.” She took a deep breath. “But please, you have to listen to me. Please.”
“Why should we?” Sam asked quietly, sounding more curious than angry.
I loved this because if they'd actually met Becky, and if Show writers would let let the boys be the boys more often than they do, this is the way the conversation--her apology--would have gone.
no subject
Date: 2020-01-03 10:09 pm (UTC)