Salads and Sulfur - Conclusion

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Literature Text

Dean grimaced as a sudden brilliance filled the front of the classroom. The overhead projector, aimed at both combatants, had switched on with a buzz of electricity and drawn both of them out of their back and forth baiting.

At first, he thought the demon caused it somehow, with a surge of energy or something. But the look on her face said it all. Dean’s opponent knew no more than he did.

In fact, her face twisted into a confused rage and she squirmed in place. While her frustration grew, Dean cautiously straightened.

“Throw off your groove, there, bright eyes?” Dean taunted. He ignored the grumbled cussing and sidled around his adversary to investigate. His eyebrows shot up when he discovered why the demon was rooted to the spot.

There was a devil’s trap projected onto her back from the overhead projector. Dean grinned at the sight of the culprit standing in awe on the power switch, staring up at his handiwork. Oscar looked like he was in a daze.

Dean saw the demon turning around in the corner of his eye. He heard a hiss of rage before she lurched towards the projector, the only direction she could go.

Dean was quicker than the swipe aiming to knock Oscar to the floor. While the little guy staggered back, Dean reached out and grabbed him, scooping him into a protective fist.

He felt bad for startling the small hero of the case. Dean heard a yelp and felt surprised squirms against his fingers. But this was better than risking the demon being able to reach him, after he’d done such a good job restraining the monster.

All on his own. Dean was starting to see what Sam had meant. Oscar might be timid, but he was brave when it really counted.

Dean held the hand with Oscar secure inside closer to his chest, loosening his grasp. He smirked down at the surprised little face peeking between his fingers, glad to see him okay. Oscar actually relaxed in Dean’s grasp when he saw who had him, which surprised the hunter quite a bit. He’d always, always known the little guy to be skittish around him.

Now it looked like he trusted Dean, and that alone brought a smile to his eyes.

With that encouraging thought in mind, it was time to find Sam and make sure he was alright. Dean walked around the demon at a brisk pace that looked more casual than he felt, and his green eyes scanned the floor around the desk.

Before Dean could take another step towards the desk and check to see if his brother dodged the kicked book, Sam emerged from just under the shadow. Dean smiled again, relieved to see Sam okay. His journal was propped on one arm and his small voice was shouting out in Latin.

Oz had given him a safe moment to come out and chant the exorcism. Dean stood to the side, watching Sam’s confident strides into the open. Those tiny hazel eyes were fixed upwards on the demon, who writhed against the projected devil’s trap to no avail. She was stuck, grimacing and keening, while the ritual started to take effect.

When the demon’s host shrieked a ghastly shriek and threw her head back, Dean knew it was the moment. Oscar flinched in his hand from the noise while black smoke burst forth from the woman’s mouth, cast out by the holy words. The host collapsed onto the floor with an almost relieved sigh.

Dean took a few steps to close the distance between himself and his brother, and dropped carefully into a kneel to offer Sam a hand. “Great work, Sammy!” he said, getting a proud grin from the small hunter as he climbed on. Dean lifted him safely off the floor and cupped both hands next to each other.

Oscar tumbled onto his back on Dean’s palm, but soon Sam was right by his side, helping him up. Sam was beaming at the smaller man and clapped him on the shoulder, making him stumble a little. “Oscar’s quick thinking sure helped out,” Sam admitted. Oscar’s face and ears burned red and he shuffled his little cloth shoes on the hand beneath him.

“Don’t be shy, Oz, you really saved our bacon there. I couldn’t risk an all out brawl or we could have knocked Sam around here. I’m glad the friggin’ book didn’t do any damage.”

Sam chuckled sheepishly. “Yep, no trouble here,” he said, glancing over Oscar again for any injuries. Dean raised an eyebrow, knowing Sam’s hiding-something face any day. He’d have to look into it later. For now …

“I say it’s high time we get this lady home, then head back. Oz, you earned yourself a slice of pie,” Dean insisted.

He couldn’t help the grin that took over his face at the sight of Oscar’s wide, awestruck eyes.


On the way back to the motel, Dean stopped at a diner. Oscar huddled as far in the bottom of Dean’s pocket as he could. Above, Dean ordered a slice of pie to go. Oscar didn’t have it in him to be embarrassed for cowering. He could hear so many other humans out there, and it was no less stressful than before.

They survived the brief stop and Dean left with pie in hand. Oscar breathed easier after that. He might never understand how Sam was so calm about this all the time.

Not that Oscar could call Sam reckless anymore, after his deeds in the school.

Upon returning to the motel, the pie was set aside while Dean let Sam and Oscar onto the table. “Okay, guys, what’s the damage?” he asked as he sat at the table, peering intently down at them.

Oscar glanced over himself briefly before shrugging. “Nothing much, I’m just worn out from running so much.” He saw Dean’s gaze trail over his small form before the human nodded in acceptance of his words.

“Looks like I’m good, too,” Sam chimed in after a cursory glance over himself. He held his arms out from his sides. “Looks like we all made it, except for that shiner you got,” he said up to Dean with a wavering smirk.

“Not so fast, pint-size,” Dean countered with a raised eyebrow. Sam opened his mouth to argue, but Dean cut him off. “You’ve been favoring a leg since you walked out from under that desk. That book hit you, didn’t it?” He leaned forward, his chin practically on the table as he watched his little brother with concern in his intense green eyes.

Sam’s ears turned red. “It barely clipped me, I’m totally fine, Dean! Worry about your black eye!”

Dean didn’t waver. He was too protective of his little brother to worry about himself first. Oscar hung back, watching the exchange quietly. He knew when to avoid getting involved. Most of the time, it was better to mind his own business.

“Sam,” Dean spoke again, his gruff voice quiet and earnest. Almost pleading. “What kinda brother would I be if I didn’t help you out when you got hurt?” He reached over their heads and dragged a book closer. “Just sit down and lemme get you some ice at least.

Sam looked almost like he wanted to argue, but Oscar saw his expression soften. “Fine, Dean,” he grumbled, stalking over to the book to flop down to a seat. “But I’m not that bad.”

Oscar smiled faintly and hauled himself onto the book, too. His cloth shoes brushed against the tabletop as his legs swung back and forth. Dean vacated his own seat to go about improvising an ice pack for Sam. Oscar let himself relax, even going so far as to close his eyes as he sat there. He heard Dean return and he heard Sam grumble about it under his breath.

“Ready for that pie you earned, Oz?” Dean said, and Oscar opened his eyes in surprise. He looked up to see the human fixing a bemused look on him as he picked up the to-go container of pie.

“It’s … “ Oscar sighed, giving up on correcting the human. It wouldn’t work. “Yeah. I am,” he said instead, his eyes falling to the flaky crust and gooey filling as soon as the styrofoam lid was out of the way. It looked delicious.

Soon enough, he had fished some aluminum foil out of his bag, hastily shaping it into a plate he could use. Sam did the same, and they had their portions of pie with their knives at the ready to serve as utensils. Oscar took a slow breath, smelling the aroma of the food before he tried it.

For a long time, Oscar thought that pizza would be the most flavorful thing that he had a chance to eat. The first warm food he’d ever had in his life, he still remembered the taste of the sauce and garlic and cheese in that irresistible blend. Oscar assumed it would be his favorite food until the day he died, it was so good.

Now, he wasn’t so sure.

The pie’s sweet, fruity flavor was like a bolt of electricity flickering through him. It was the third time he’d received fresh food from Sam and Dean, and the burst of flavor still caught him off guard. Every bite was heavenly and he regretted that more humans didn’t bring pie around the motel. If they did, he’d have to make an effort to get it.

After finishing his portion and filling his bag with as many crumbs of the flaky crust as he could, Oscar glanced towards his vent. “I should probably go home,” he said wearily. The excitement of the day combined with his mad dash finally caught up to him, and with the case over, the brothers likely needed to sleep, too.

Dean glanced behind him, those keen eyes finding the vent almost right away. “If you want, Oz,” he said. “You earned a rest.”

“You should stop by tomorrow morning before we head out,” Sam interjected. “You can grab some extra food.” His voice bore the signs of exhaustion as much as Oscar’s did.

Oscar smiled. “Y-yeah … I might.”

A huge hand settled on the table near his seat on the book. Oscar stared at it before looking up at Dean, who arched his eyebrows. “Lemme give you a lift. It’s the least I can do for our very own demon-tracker.”

Oscar blinked, and then chuckled sheepishly. “I just got lucky, that’s all,” he mumbled back, slipping off the book and stepping up onto Dean’s palm. It only struck him after Dean grinned that he’d done so without hesitation.

As Oscar lifted up into the air on a hand bigger than his bed back home, he thought that he’d certainly come a long way since the last time they were there. He straightened to wave at Sam before Dean turned towards the wall, and the smaller hunter waved back at him with a grin.

In no time at all, long strides had carried Dean and Oscar to the vent near the dresser, and Dean knelt to let Oscar onto the floor.

“Get some rest, Oz,” Dean said, ruffling the poof of hair on top of his head with a fingertip. Oscar hunched in surprise from the contact and Dean grinned. “Stay outta trouble.”

“I’ll do my best,” Oscar said flatly, before brushing at his hopeless hair and slipping into the vent and leaving the room behind. He was well on his way home before Dean’s rumbling voice could barely be heard through the wall, probably answering some quip from Sam. Even though Oscar couldn’t hear the words, he smirked faintly.

Who’d have ever thought that Oscar, small, timid Oscar, would be friends with a human?
Dean keeps up his tradition of grabbing Oscar. Just not with as much fear this time. It looks like Oscar, even though he's timid, has gotten past his fear of at least one human out there. I know Dean's happy about that. ^-^

Honestly, I'm pretty proud of how this story turned out. The first one was so spontaneous for me, and this one maintained that sort of spirit to it. I'm really glad people ended up liking it along with me. Thanks for the support. I'm hopeful that, with a little more practice behind me now, I might be able to come up with another story about Oscar faster than a year. :)

The final part of my entry for nightmares06 .  I thank everyone who came this far with me (and Oscar shyly thanks you too, from his comfy home in the walls of course XD).


Pizza and Hexbags

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bittykimmy13's avatar
Yayyy Oz! :la: So smart!

And it's so heart-warming to see that he isn't so afraid of Dean anymore ;o;