Fic - All I gotta do is... (Sam & Dean, Gen)

[cityphonelines]

Title: All I gotta do is...
Fandom: Supernatural
Summary: All I got to do is stay black and die. - Bumpy Johnson, Harlem mobster/ganster
Rating: R (for language)
Word count: ~1400
Disclaimer: The characters? Not mine.
Beta: My kittyzams, any remaining snafus are mine.
Warning/Author's Note: Seriously, if you cannot put your tongue in your cheek about SPN or BtVS, this in NOT the fic for you. This is basically my meta on the 'race issues' *eyeroll* of SPN and it is really not PC at all. I have no issues with SPN when it comes to race.

There's a fanmix at the end. If you wanna just skip to that, I understand.


Sam's trying, he is; he has armfuls of books and pages of notes, but he doesn't have any answers, doesn't have anyone else out there that can help. Shit, he only had three directions to turn to begin with and if he's honest about it, a demon, a salvage yard owner, the dumbass that died and the idiot that made the deal in the first place aren't exactly a crack team. He makes no bones about telling Dean all this.

"We few, we happy few. We band of buggered," Dean says with a grin.

"Brothers," Sam corrects.

"What's that?"

"'We band of 'brothers'."

"No, it's 'buggered'; trust me I know my shit."

"It's Shakespeare, Dean," Sam sighs, because really, this is not the argument he wants to have, "it's from Henry V and the quote is 'brothers', trust me, I wrote a paper on it."

Dean turns and gives him that look, the look that simultaneously tells Sam he's underestimated Dean and also makes Sam want reach up to check if there's giant neon 'NERD' sign flashing on his forehead. "Yes, Sammy, you're obviously the only one in the room that wrote a paper on it, because it's not like I went to high school or anything."

And there it is, right on schedule, Sam feels like an ass. "I'm sorry Dean, I didn't mean-"

"Eh, whatever."

"No, really, I didn't mean to be a dick, but…" he starts picking at his cuticles to stall, because yeah, asshole wasn't what he was going for, but that doesn't change the fact that Dean is misquoting, "if you know it then-"

Dean interrupts him again, "I've forgotten my fair share of Shakespeare, but Sammy, I know my Buffy. Spike said 'buggered' and I'm stickin' with Spike's version."

"You watched Buffy the Vampire Slayer? Seriously?"

"Dude, the chicks? So hot. Plus, now that we've met real vampires it's funny to watch that whole 'stake 'em and they turn to dust' bullshit."

"Huh." Sam processes this new information and goes back to reading a passage that better be plagiarized from another book, because if not he's reading something from his already-been-read-and-deemed-useless pile and that means Dean's been messing with his stacks again.

Dammit.

He starts sorting them again, trying to remember by front cover and name if he's skimmed through them before or not. Six days to go and running around in circles isn't what he wants to do.

"Jess used to watch it, she even had a few seasons on DVD," Sam says absently, and talking about her doesn't even hurt anymore and that makes him feel more than a little guilty, "She thought it was a good representation of a woman having power and taking control."

"That's crap," Dean's eyes roll up in annoyance, "having a tiny blonde chick with superpowers isn't empowering, it's a bullshit fantasy. Now, Jo, taking off, surviving and hunting on her own? That's empowering. Stupid, but empowering. That's reality."

"Chick?"

"Yeah, 'chick'," Dean starts ticking synonyms off on his fingers, "babe, hottie, skirt, Gibson, whatever, the point is she's female."

Sam stares at his brother then blinks a few times before shaking his head and going back to the heavy book open in front of him. It's a bunch of nothing, in fact Sam's pretty sure that the more he reads the less he actually knows. The frustration and the excessive caffeine are giving him a headache.

Dean's sitting cross legged on top of the coffee table in the middle of the room they're in; the room they paid up for two weeks and have barely left. He's cleaning under his nails with the tip of his knife when he's suddenly blurts out, "Y'know, Cassie watched Buffy for a while too, but she kept getting mad at it and gave up."

The funny thing about having your brother sell his soul for you is this: time ticks down and barriers drop, and for some reason it makes you both talk about the ones that could have been way more freely than you ever have. It's bizarre.

"Why mad?"

"She said there wasn't enough minority representation. She said there was a lack of black. "

"That's not true; there was the slayer with the accent, that vampire guy, and Riley's friend, the principal and his mom, " Sam tries to remember more, there had to be more, "Oh! And Giles' girlfriend from England."

Dean looks at him indulgently, "Kendra, Mr. Trick and Forrest: died, dusted, demonized," he's ticking off on his fingers again, which Sam is finding endearing, but he knows that if the deal didn't exist he'd find it annoying, "they thought Principal Wood was evil at first. Spike killed Nikki Wood and he stole her coat, and Olivia couldn't cope and disappeared. That's a really good representation right there."

"I'm so frightened by you and your Buffy knowledge right now."

"Sammy, I repeat: Hot. Chicks."

Dean's smile is leering and wide, all teeth and tongue and arched eyebrows and Sam wonders for a moment if it was less about the women on the show and more about Spike right before he realizes something.

"Dean, have you ever noticed how African-Americans don't really last around us?"

Dean stops picking at his nails and stares at Sam in what appears to be amused shock. "Well, no Sam, I haven't noticed, because I'm not keeping a black list," Dean slowly realizes what he said and snorts, "heh, 'black list'."

"Ugh, could you be more prejudiced?"

"Prejudiced? Me? Dude, my last girlfriend was black-"

"Half," Sam says before he realizes how horrible it sounds, "um, I meant bi-racial."

"And," Dean continues on as if Sam hadn't spoken at all, "you're the one keeping a black people tally, not me."

Dean's right.

Dammit.

"I'm just saying that almost every person of color we meet ends up dead. It's kind of strange when you think about it."

"Excuse me, I must have heard you wrong," Dean pretends to scrub out his ear, "did you just accuse us of causing the deaths of black people we meet?"

"Well…" And ok, Sam knows it's irrational and stupid, they come across a lot of people and a lot of them die, but, well numbers don't lie, right?

"Sam," Dean's expression shows Sam that Dean can't believe his brother is the genius of the bunch, "Missouri? Still alive. Cassie? Still breathing as far as I know. Tamara? Still kickin'."

Dean has a point. Three of them actually and they're all valid, however…

"Ok, yeah, Missouri is one thing, but Cassie? You abandoned her, so she may be alive but she's someone you hurt and Tamara's husband was killed just hours after we met them." Sam feels like he's on a roll now. "Besides, I'm not talking about any African-Americans we've met that have lived. Think about it, all the others are gone."

Dean doesn't reply and actually, he doesn't look like he's thinking about it at all. The room is quiet for moment, just the sound of their breathing and Sam thinks about dropping it, going back to his reading, but he can't; he's right about this and what's more, he's worried about it.

"Dean," he says, putting his hand on the page and closing the book to keep his place, "count it out. Isaac, death by Drano and now his wife is alone. Henricksen's dead, died right after he helped us. We just exorcised an African-American guy, Gordon turned evil and then I killed him. And I killed Jake. Hell, I bet you anything that Sergeant guy we met in Rivergrove is dead, too."

"He was possessed. Besides, Jake killed you first," Dean points out, "and Gordon had plans to gank you."

"Doesn't matter. They're dead because of us, because of me. Every minority we come in contact with goes evil or dies."

"Sammy, we've taken out plenty of evil white people."

"They don't count, it isn't the same at all," Sam sighs deeply, "I just... I don't understand it, I mean, I had a black friend at Stanford," Sam ignores the scoff that comes from Dean, "and as far as I know he's fine, but it seems like lately every person of color I-"

"Fuck, stop saying that. It's just one step up from 'colored folk'. It sounds so stupid."

"It's perfectly acceptable."

"So was nigger, once upon a time."

"Dean!" Sam is appalled at hearing Dean say that word, "You can't just throw that word around. Besides, 'people of color' is a politically correct term."

"See what Stanford did to you?" Dean asks rhetorically, "'Politically correct term', my lily white ass. Fucking California. And anyway, why do they even consider that good terminology? Isn't everyone a color? I mean, one time, I bagged this Oriental chick, totally smokin' hot," Dean seems to get lost in the memory for a moment, "anyway, she was way paler than me. It's retarded wording."

"Asian. And don't say 'retarded'."

"What are you babbling about now?" Dean asks.

"Rugs are Oriental, people are Asian," Sam explains. "And saying 'retard' isn't nice."

"Like I said, fucking California."



Author's Note the second: This is a fic I've been wanting to write for ages. I don't expect agreement necessarily, it's just my opinions in fic form. If you're offended in any way, well, I'm not gonna apologize exactly, but I will say that sucks, because it wasn't my intention.

I realize that this fic can be read two ways, in a way that reads like I'm scolding SPN and BtVS, highlighting their faults, and the way I actually mean it. Which is to say that I think the 'race issues' on both (mostly SPN) are blown out of proportion, I don't feel at all that blacks are marginalized by the show and I probably never will feel that way. I do feel that by making a 'dead black folk list' you aren't part of a solution, but closer to being part of the problem. but that's me and my opinion. And you know what they say about opinions...





o1. Alphabet Aerobics by Blackalious Because Sammy is SMART.

My mind makes marvelous moves,
Masses marvel and move, many mock what I've mastered

o2. Bug Powder Dust Remix by Bomb The Bass Because Dean deserves a Zeppelin shout out

And I'll be spittin' rhymes wicked like it ain't for this shit
Houses of the Holy like Jimmy Page
But the song remains the same so I'm stuck in a rage

o3. Remember the Name - by Fort Minor

He doesn't need his name up in lights
He just wants to be heard whether it's the beat or the mic
He feels so unlike everybody else, alone
In spite of the fact that some people still think that they know him
But fuck em, he knows the code
It's not about the salary
It's all about reality
And making some noise

o4. Stressed Out - by A Tribe Called Quest

Yo, I know the feelin', when you feelin' like a villain
You be havin' good thoughts but the evils be revealin'
And the stresses of life can take you off the right path (no doubt)
Jealousy and envy tends to infiltrate your staff

o5. Soul Food - by Goodie Mobb

A heaping helping of fried chicken, macaroni and cheese and collard greens
Too big for my jeans
Smoke steams from under the lid thats on the pot
Ain't never had a lot, but thankful for the little that I got

o6. Oh No - by Mos Def, featuring Nate Dogg and Pharoahe Monch

Niggas ain't scared to hustle
It's been seven days, the same clothes
Ask them originals cause they know
Mos def, Nate Dogg, and Pharoahe
Step away from the mic, they too cold
The funk might fracture your nose

o7. Race Against Time - by Ja-Rule

In my race against time I - can't stop
Runnin' through the red light - livin' my life
Even if I'm gettin' too hot
I'ma keep runnin' through the red light - livin my life

o8. Do You Believe? - by The Beatnuts

Now behold the burning malice of a treacherous soul
First time I shot a gun duke, I was 12 years old
But since then, I've never put it down my friend
She go to war when I tell her
Fuck a who, why, when, til the end
Indeed it's good to have and not need
Even better when you can shoot back and not bleed, take head

o9. Fixation - by The Coup

Police performed a home evasion
So I cut off the illumination
And jumped out of the ventilation
They were in anticipation
Waiting in Voltron formation
I performed circumnavigation
And then crawled through the foilation
Started my legs to gyration
They caught me, took me to the station