So this kinda turned into a Sweets fic, with him finding a place to call home. Yet somehow I made it very booth/bones. God knows why, haha. I hope you enjoy it.

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Sweets never tells anyone his entire life what his scars are from, not even Daisy. Though she figures it out on her own, because that what her whole job, her life is based on. Putting together clues and building a larger picture, even if she’s got one corner piece and a few middle pieces.

Before he was adopted he grew up in a pack, it’s the only thing he misses from Before.

When his mom and dad died it was truly the first moment he was ever alone, so when he found the Jeffersonian he clung to it. Held it tightly, because the way they moved inside that building, the connections between each person, it was like how interaction should be, complicated and hard, but true and deep.

The first time he sees Booth look and Dr. Brennan, he feels a pull in his chest like he did when his mom would look over the morning paper at his dad. They’d share a smile and go back to the mundane tasks.

It is that moment that he knows where his new home is, his pack.

They don’t take too long after that for them to realize that too.

At night, with a blue moon a few days away, Sweets buries his head into Daisy’s hair and breaths. He’s never been more content.

Now he just needs to wait a little longer for the Mother and Father of the pack to feel as he does with each other.

Dean wiped the sweat from his brow and looked over at Castiel, who had just finished his salt and burn. Two men, gangsters who had died violently and were very nasty contenders, had been terrorizing the people of the city by reliving the events that lead them to die in a hail of gunfire from the police who had caught them.

“Finally,” Dean said. “I thought we’d never get rid of those assholes.”

“I am glad we could help them cross over and finally rest.”

“Rest? They’re going to Hell, Cas. I’ve been there. I don’t think that’s resting.”

“At least they will know their torturer. It will be better than reliving the worst event of their mortal lives. It will be better than being forced to see all that they cannot have. It will better than the constant confusion and anger. As demons, they will forget their mortal lives. It will be better for them there. That is where they belong.”

Dean’s mouth thinned, he didn’t think they were talking about the ghosts anymore.

“I don’t expect them to thank me for damning them.”

Castiel gave Dean a sad half-smile. It reminded Dean of the smile the future Castiel sometimes wore, it was from the future was trying so hard to avoid. But the more Dean tried, the faster Castiel seemed to fall. Castiel strode up to Dean and placed a kiss on the corner of Dean’s mouth.

Then Castiel whispered softly, “The damned never do.”

I'm sorry, I don't know where my mind was at. It's a bit gross and weird and from out of left field. Probably not the greatest way for my first commentfic to go.

His leg jittered up and down, his teeth gnawing at his dark nails. The giant’s hand fell upon his thigh, soothing the worries out of his limbs.

“Hey, it’s cool man. We’ll be fine,” Jared whispered, his voice low so as not to alert attention.

Jensen just nodded his head and diverted his gaze from the guards. They were monsters, like the ones he dreamed up in his songs.

They were real. Monsters were real. Jared was real.

The black polish had finally worn away and the fingernail displayed the mutilated skin beneath. Blood welled in the quick. Jared’s face instantly changed, the ridges on his forehead turning Jensen’s beautiful giant into mythical horrific thing. The fangs gleamed.

The guards turned to see the giant, starving vampire salivate over his lover. Their prickly heads gurgled in speech and the cage door opened.

The last Jared saw of Jensen was the droplet of his blood hitting the sand.

(I had never even thought of this pairing but it really captured my imagination!)

"I can see you." River says clearly, her head tipped slightly to the side, her eyes too wide. The boy shifts in his seat but says nothing, looking away as if embarrassed. He doesn't believe her. "I can see you." she says again.
"I'm sure you can honey." Zoe says easily, unloading the mule with casual strength. The boy doesn't move when Zoe tosses a length of rope onto the crates where he sits. The rope falls right through him.
"Oh. You're a ghost." River says, adjusting the angle of her head. "That clarifies some things." Zoe rolls her eyes in the corner of her vision. The boy sits straight upright and looks around him in fear.
"It's okay," River says in the slow talking-to-wild-animals-and-Simon voice Jayne taught her. "Don't be afraid."
He turns to look at her, meeting her eyes for the first time. A thrill of electricity shudders down her spine.
"I'm not afraid!" He spits, the smell of fear and anger rolling off of him proving the lie. She can't hear him in her mind. The quiet is a welcome relief. She shrugs.
"You're dead. What do the dead fear?" She isn't afraid of him.
He looks away, breaking the aching connection she had been looking for.
"Moving on." He says, gently. The smell of his fear fades, replaced by the septic tang of grief. She climbs onto the crates to sit behind him.
"I've killed men before." She says, changing the subject, following his gaze to the opposite wall. He nods.
"Me too." He says.
"Do you regret it?" She asks, because who else is better to ask than a dead man, with hands lined with scars. Under the overlay smell of his emotion, she can smell men and gunpowder. He shakes his head.
"Not usually. They were bad people or they weren't people any more." He looks at his hands, massaging his knuckles with one hand. She leans back and rests her head against the wall.
"You'd like the Captain. Although, I think if I tell him that there's a ghost on board he'd try and charge you." She says, in a flickering moment of sanity. He laughs and meet her eyes again. They remind her of Simon and Jayne, as if they were one man, a scholar who carries a gun.
"Our secret then?" He asks, his lips twitching up in a half-smile. She smiles.
"Our secret." She nods, seriously. Her secret, her own ghost boy with blood on his hands.

Ha! I mean, I may a little bit for you on this later....

Sitting alone in the crowded London pub, Toro tried hard not to hear himself think.

"Toro?"

Toro jumped slightly and then looked up at Jim with irritation he couldn't suppress. Sometimes Jim didn't know when to leave a fellow alone.

"What?" Toro snapped.

"I was just saying MI6 ruled Dr. Kryuchkov's death natural."

"Bullshit." Toro muttered.

Jim sat down into the seat next to Toro and put his hand on Toro's shoulder. "I'm sure there are other people who can help you lad."

"Oh, I'm sure." Toro snarled. "People who have intimate knowledge of whatever was done to me are just lined up to defect from the MGB, or KGB, or whatever the hell it calls itself now." Toro took a long drink of his beer before looking at Jim again. "In the mean time, I'll just keep signing up for the communist party and you'll just have to keep watching me to make sure I don't sudden relapse brainwashing and go all Manchurian Candidate on you. Wonderful."

"Toro-"

Toro stood so fast he knocked his beer over onto Jim. Without apologizing, he ran out the door. Ignoring Jim's calls for him to wait, Toro lit up and flew into the sky. I knew the flaming streak he'd make would be easy for Jim to follow, but he just had to get away and knew of no faster way.


Hours later he found himself on a rooftop staring out at London. He sat alone for a while before he hear a noise behind him. "Jim," he thought and turned not knowing if he was going to shout or cry.

He did neither, because it wasn't Jim.

Standing by one of the chimmney's was a brown eyed brown haired figure that was so familiar the sight stopped Toro cold. For over a minute he could only stare into the eys of the man he'd loved.

"Bucky?" he whispered.

As if speaking had broken some kind of spell, Bucky disappeared, jumping from the edge of the roof.

The movement broke Toro's trance and with a shout he ran to the edge just in time to see something dodge around a corner. Flaming on, he gave chase through the dark alley ways.

He lost Bucky more than once, but each time, Bucky would reappear and pause long enough to allow Toro to catch up, than run ahead.

Finally, in a dark abandoned spot, Bucky stopped. Standing perfectly still, it pointed to the brick wall.

"Bucky," Toro whispered, "Buck is that you?"

Bucky said nothing he just pointed again.

"Are you a ghost."

Bucky nodded, then turned and ran disappearing around the corner.

"Bucky," Toro yelled, but when he rounded the corner, he saw nothing. He waited, waited for over an hour, but Bucky never came back.

Fightin back tears, Toro went to the spot Bucky had pointed to. Toro looked closer and found loose bricks. One by one, he pulled them out until he found a hidden compartment. Stuffed deep inside was a file folder with his name on it.

Toro opened it and gasped. The writing was in Russian, but the photographs of himself, and the little bit he could translate were all he needed to know what this was.

The file Kryuchkov had promised him, everything that had been done to him by the Russians, every trigger word, and conditioning was in his hands because Bucky had led him to it.

"I guess -I guess you're still watching out for me." Toro whispered.

"Thank you," he tried to say, but it came out as a sob.

The vampire's got Sam in her grasp, fingers wrapped around his skull and ready to twist just so, her face full of fangs uncomfortably close to his bare skin. And Dean's scrabbling for his machete yards away. He's not going to make it and the sudden, crushing helplessness makes Dean feel like his heart's about to pound clear out of is chest.

Then the vampire gives a snarl, a scream and let's Sam go, throwing him down hard against the dirt road. He groans, eyes groggy and unfocused, but manages to roll away to take a defensive position.

She scrabbles weakly at her back, going to her knees with the whisper of dead man's blood on her last, unnecessary breath. Cas breaks the woods, a crossbow aimed steady and Gabriel on his heels, though the Archangel's attempting -and failing- to look bored with the gory proceedings.

They're a sight for sore eyes, even Gabriel. "It's about time." Dean barks as he pushes the vampire flat to the ground, restraining her weak thrashing with one hand while brandishing the machete with the other. The kill is quick and easy, when he looks up Sam's holding the gasoline and a book of matches.

"That's it?" Gabriel asks later as they watch the bodies of her and her mate burn. "I expected more sparkling."

Sam snorts and pats him sympathetically on the shoulder. "You can't believe everything you read."

"Real vampires do not sparkle." Dean grouses, wiping his forehead with a sooty hand. Cas hands him a hanky and before Dean can ask who the hell carries hankies anymore, Gabriel's got an open bag of marshmallows in hand.

"Who's up for s'mores?" He asks around a mouthful of fluff.

I couldn't remember if vampires on Supernatural turn to dust -for shame D:- so I just went with good ol' salt and burn.

"I always knew it!" Donna let her hand slide along the side of one of the large stones as she circled it, the smooth sensation going against her expectations; as if it had been coated in varnish. She'd been to Stonehenge once before, but it was very different this time around. For once, it was about four-thousand years younger.

"So what's this do then, eh?" She asked, gazing up as the stars began to poke their pointy noses through the clouds overhead. She pulled her coat tighter around her neck, keeping her head skyward. "Is it a homing beacon, or some sort of alien... doohicky?"

A sharp laugh rang from behind her, only to quickly fall away as she turned to glare at the Doctor. "No," he said, thrusting his hands into his coat pockets. "Nothing like that."

"Than what?"

The Doctor strode toward the center of the ring of stones, and with a sigh leaned against one of the smaller, but still rather large, stones. "This."

Donna stared at the Doctor for a moment, then gazed around, an uneasy expectation beginning to well up within her. Time passed-- a sensation Donna had grown accostumed to loathe-- and after enough of it had gone she turned back to the Doctor with a huff.

"It's not doing anything!"

"Exactly!"

"I beg your pardon?" She said, testilly.

"This place, it does absolutely nothing! The only mystery of the place is the mystery of the place itself!" He hopped away from the stone he was leaning against and strode into the exact center of the circle. "There is nothing alien, nothing supernatural, about this place. It merely exists to exist."

"But, the they always have programs on the tele about this place. Books! There's so many theories, how could it possibly be for nothing?" Donna stormed to the center of the ring, beside the Doctor, and waved her arms around. "All of this can't be here for NOTHING!"

The Doctor smiled coyly. "Ah, but there's the mystery then, isn't it?"

Donna frowned as true a frown as she ever had before. "Oh, but I bet you're going to tell me you know the answer then, are you? To the mystery of all this nothing."

"Yup."

"Pray tell, knower of all, what IS the answer than?"

The Doctor let his gaze fall out toward the east, a seriousness suddenly cast across it in a way Donna had never seen on any other being; human, time lord, or otherwise.

"The answer, my dear Donna Noble," he said, "is simple." He looked back toward his companion. "Human nature."

"You're such a tease!" Donna cried in frustration.

"No, it's true! There was once a civilization, not too far from here, that convinced themselves that this place needed to be built. First it was one man, then he convinced another, and they convinced another, and so on. From that need, they found a means. From that means, this was created." He turned to appraise the scenery. "Human desire conquering all logic. Like the pyramids of Egypt."

"Or the stone heads of Easter Island." Donna chimed.

"Actually, that was aliens."

"Really?"

"Yup. The Roggeveen of Olora. They look just like that, too."

"Do they, then?"

"Great telekinetic ability, with those big brains."



Just a bit too big, had to split it in two ^_^</a>