Song-Based One Shots

Crown Vic Headlights (SPN/Night Shift)

Two men from two very different worlds found themselves at the same bar, a local place in San Antonio, Texas.

One was a doctor at San Antonio Memorial Hospital, his past consisting of loving parents, a brother he let die in the barren wasteland that is Afghanistan, and an ex-girlfriend who he let go when his PTSD got out of control.

The other, sitting only two stools away, was a monster hunter who grew up with an enraged and vengeful father, stories of a beloved mother who burned on the ceiling, a brother who was more his kid than anything. Death, blood, and bodies filled the pages of his red ledger.

Though coming from different pasts, they aren't as different as one may think.

"How ya doin' today, TC?" The barkeep asked, startling the doc out of his thoughts.

"I-I'm fine. Hey, who is he?" He gestured to the mystery man. The bar was located close enough to the military base that most of its patrons were former or active vets with rarely any new faces.

"Don't know. Came in about two hours ago and ordered a few drinks. Hasn't said a word."

"Coulda just asked," the strange man cut in, turning to look at them.

He had short dark-blonde hair with the most startling green eyes TC had ever seen.

"Alright then. Who are you?"

"Name's Dean. Yours?"

"TC."

"Nice ta meet ya, TC," the man drawled, downing the rest of his drink before ordering another one.

"Ya new here?" TC asked, taking a sip of his own Irish Whiskey.

"Nah, ain't from around here. I'm here for a case."

"You a cop or something?"

"A PI, actually. My brother and I work together. He's out digging for info."

They each took a sip of their respective drinks.

"What's got you drinking your sorrows away tonight?" Dean asked.

TC took another sip before answering. "PTSD, depression, anxiety. The usual gifts from the Army."

"Ahh, I get that."

"You in the Army."

"No, but my dad sure made it feel like it. He was basically a drill sergeant to me and my brother since I was four. He was in the Marines during Nam. Got the Purple Heart and the Bronze Star."

TC let out a long whistle. "Guess we've all got our problems."

"That we do."

TC noted with interest that Dean downed an entire glass of what looked like whiskey in one gulp. "Looks like we've got the same coping mechanism, too."

Dean shrugged. "Didn't come from a long line of being corrupt. Just when that bottle comes around, you know, can't keep myself from tipping it up."

The army doc tapped his glass against the hunter's. "Got me feeling like I'm losing control, like I'm gambling and losing it all."

Dean reciprocated the half-cocked cheer. "Thank your creator for it not any worse. Don't wanna put myself or anybody else in a hearse."

TC nodded. "Wearing guilt and shame as a crown. Don't wanna show my face 'round my hometown."

Finding many commonalities between the two, the army doc and the hunter chatted through the long hours of the night and well into the morning.

They never got the other's number and never saw each other again, but they both felt better knowing there was another out there who knew what they were going through. Knowing they weren't alone. It made all the difference.