out of sight, out of mind
Title: out of sight, out of mind
Rating: PG-13
Characters/pairings: Sam, Dean, Bobby
Fandom: Supernatural
Word count: 6, 748
Notes: Written for the ohsam fic challenge for a prompt by quickreaver -- Season 7. Dean finally cuts off the damned cast and they make ready to leave the cabin.Sam has taken to long walks/runs in the woods to shake off Lucifer but as luck would have it, he gets disoriented and the hallucinations act up and he finds himself well and truly lost.
I was really rushed in finishing this so it didn't turn out exactly like I planned, but I hope you enjoy it anyway.
Summary: There were monsters in these woods, and no matter how fast he ran, they caught up to him.
When he looked back, the cabin blew away. Sam thought it was made of stone but he couldn’t trust these things.
It turned into straw as it left, whispering through the leaves and in a hurry, definitely had somewhere to be. Somewhere better than this. Sam had nowhere to be himself, but he had things to run from. There were monsters in these woods, and no matter how fast he ran, they caught up to him.
One of them was a caterpillar, another was himself.
The caterpillar was as long as he was, had eyes yellow like shining orbs, and gained on him every moment. In the forest shade the crawling creeping menace shined, while every time Sam tripped over a black root he fell further into the shadows.
There were monsters in these woods and he had to run but the caterpillar chased the breath out of him until it was frozen, racing it to arctic temperatures and fogging up the air with white clouds that surrounded him. They were like smoke how they furled around, twisting up his arm. In his hand they solidified, growing into an icicle. Sam put the icicle in his pocket. He might need it later.
“So...just you and me, huh?” the caterpillar’s voice was also his own. Sam looked around and found it was hanging from a tree by a rusted chain. The chain groaned in agitation as it slightly swung side to side.
“You are never gonna be okay, Sam,” the caterpillar told him coyly, its chain rattling menacingly at Sam.
With no response the creature began to change. A bubble formed around it, filmy and bulbous. As it tightened the caterpillar curled and contorted. He could see it smiling with all of its pointed teeth inside its cocoon and its yellow eyes that pierced the darkness until the shell became thick, opaque, and perfectly reflective, concealing the monster but showing him a mirror of himself in its place.
Sam backed away from the mirror and ran from it.
There were two monsters in these woods. One of them was a caterpillar.
- - -
Though it had seemed reasonable at the time, Dean Winchester was beginning to think that letting his maybe-psychotic, definitely-hallucinating little brother go for a walk in the woods by himself had not been such a great idea after all.
But Dean hadn’t been thinking straight, going stir crazy stuck inside this cabin, and he had thought it would just be one of Sam’s hippie, granola munching, in touch with nature, I’ll be right back after I’ve found myself kind of hikes. Not a bread crumbs eaten by birds, he was never seen or heard from again sort of deal. But now that Sam had been gone almost three hours, Dean was pretty sure it was the second one.
After all, it was getting dark, it had to be nearly freezing out, and Dean’s brother had the added bonus of being partially or completely crazy. Yeah, Dean was definitely going after the kid.
Dean was cursing Sam as he pulled on his shoes. You know, “Jeez Sam, am I really gonna have to haul your ass out of those woods?”, “Do you know how freaking cold it is out there?”, “A goddamn nature hike, Sam? Nice going getting yourself lost!”
But deep down, in a dusty place he liked to shove feelings and other chick things and wash them down with cheap booze, Dean knew he didn’t blame Sam so much as he was worried about him, and blamed the world for giving Dean’s brother yet another thing to deal with.
He supposed things had been getting too good around here these last three weeks, what with all the broken legs and head injuries. A traumatic romp through the woulds would definitely spice things up.
In the middle of pulling on his coat, Dean’s attention immediately turned to the door as Bobby came through it, grumbling about the cold that he was letting into the cabin in the form of a freezing draft.
“Hey, just cause you got that cast off don’t mean you got to be walking around all the time,” Bobby said, setting a brown paper bag of groceries, or maybe books, atop the table. “Sit down, son.” He settled himself onto the couch as he said this. “You ain’t goin’ out, are you?” Bobby questioned when he looked over at Dean and saw that he had his boots on and was zipping up his jacket. “There’s ‘sposed to be a storm coming. You picked a piss poor time to go for a walk.”
“I’m not going for a walk, Bobby,” Dean responded in frustration. “Sam went for a walk, probably got lost with that messed up mind of his. I’m going after him.”
“Dean,” said Bobby urgently. “I ain’t kidding ‘bout that snowstorm, and its gettin’ dark. If Sam’s out there in those woods, we better find him and fast.”
“Snowstorm? It’s October.”
“Yeah, in Montana. In the mountains. Ain’t that rare.”
“Well that’s just great,” Dean sighed. “You got a flashlight?”
“Sure do. But hang on a minute. There’re a couple other things we oughta bring.”
“This better not take long,” Dean grumbled. The longer he waited the harder it would be to find Sam.
“Just give me a bit to get some supplies together.” Bobby heaved himself off the couch. “Thought it might be an interesting idea to be, you know, actually prepared for a mountain rescue,” he said, before disappearing into the other room.
Dean huffed a breath, turning to the window. Through the curtains he could see the darkening sky was filled with clouds and even a few dusty flakes of snow that had already begun to flutter down.
- - -
The floor of the forest was now covered in white possums, baby possums that yelped every time Sam took a step and the mother possum warned, “Tread lightly, boy.”
Sam wanted to run from the monsters in these woods but he was making roadkill here so he slowed to a careful walk, and the squealing of the possums dissipated, making way for a new soundtrack of echoes.
The echoes were the forest. They were one and the same, haunting and hunting him, edging him forward.
When Sam stopped to stare at the web of branches crawling like veins in the sky, the wind called to him. “Keep moving, Sam,” it said.
The veins rustled. “Don’t stop again, Sam,” they instructed, dripping blood onto the back of Sam’s neck.
“You have to get going, Sam,” the crickets urged. And Sam did.
It was easy to forget why he was traveling. He thought he might have somewhere to be, but then he remembered. He had nowhere to be himself, but he had things to run from. One was himself and he couldn’t remember what the other one was.
Himself, he thought the other one might be himself.
That made sense.
It was just that everything in these woods looked like a contender for a possible foe, definitely a reason for hasty escape. Trees sneered at him unpleasantly, their furrowing branches glaring. Vines hissed at him as he walked past.
“Get going, get going.” The crickets again.
Sam walked faster.
A great horned owl swept overhead. “You’re not in hell anymore,” it hooted. “You’re with us.”
His pace quickened.
“You got away.” A wolf howling in the distance. “We got you out, Sammy.”
He leaped forward, hurling himself as fast as he could go.
A woodpecker. “I’m the one who raised you from-”
The ground dumped him and Sam went tumbling down.
- - -
Brothers were annoying, little brothers doubly so, but nothing was quite as annoying as a hell-ridden, half crazy little brother with a stubborn independent streak.
If Dean didn’t have this pain in the ass little brother, he could be indoors right now, instead of romping through the woods, freezing his ass off, and bellowing Sam’s name in the feeble hope that he would hear it wherever he was and be lucid enough to respond.
As it was, Dean did have a pain in the ass little brother who was very much missing and Dean was very much going out of his mind. There was always something to worry about, wasn’t there?
About half an inch of snow had accumulated on the ground already and Sam had been gone a while, especially since Bobby had taken so long in getting together their gear - gloves, scarves, hats, and winter coats. They were keeping Dean relatively warm, sure, but Sam had left the cabin in a cargo jacket and Dean knew it was possible to freeze to death in under an hour.
He didn’t know exactly how cold it was, but he was guessing one million degrees below zero.
“Looky here...” Bobby said suddenly.
Dean’s next call of “SAMMY!” died in his throat and his head snapped around to see what Bobby had stopped for, his heart drumming in his chest. Please let this be a sign that Sammy’s okay.
Bobby walked closer to one of the trees. Dean followed.
“What is it?” he asked.
“Snow’s covered most of Sam’s tracks... He left this part of the woods a while ago.”
“Thanks, Bobby. You’re so helpful. I’m glad we’re wasting time standing here talking about how Sam’s not here right now. Because you know I really hadn’t noticed that.”
Bobby sighed exasperatedly. “That’s not the news, son, I’m just telling you, ya idjit.” He pointed to the tree with his gloved hand. “Like I said, tracks on the ground are worthless but the branches on this tree have been broken recently. Someone ran past here, probably going pretty fast.”
“Sam?”
“Well it was a definitely a someone, not a something. Ain’t many critters in these woods. Some deer, but deer ’d be better at avoiding trees than a-”
“Unbalanced mountain man?” Dean finished.
“Yes. And look at the height of these branches,” Bobby pointed. “Was definitely someone tall coming by here.”
“Sammy, you damn sasquatch,” Dean murmured affectionately. “So this means...?”
“This just means we’re heading in the right direction,” Bobby sighed.
“And that’s if this is Sam we’re following and not some genetically deficient buck.”
“Bingo,” Bobby agreed.
Dean buried his face in his gloves. When he closed his eyes he could see Sammy lost somewhere far up in the mountains, his body laying, cold and empty on the forest floor and blood staining the snow...
His eyes snapped open. “Let’s go.” Dean’s voice was set, and it pushed him forward. “Just gotta keep moving. We’re going to find Sam.”
Alive, at least. Please let him be alive. Dean would take care of the rest.
- - -
“My Queen, what have we here?”
“Let’s see, my Queen, what have you found?”
“Something quite interesting, I dare say.”
“Well, let’s have a look...”
Sam felt a hand on his face, dainty and light. His eyes opened, revealing two lovely faces with peering, wondering looks.
“It’s alive!” the first Queen gasped, her hand covering her mouth.
“Get it up,” the second Queen instructed, and then Sam felt delicate but forceful hands grab him, pulling him to his feet.
The two Queens then stepped back, examining him, their lips pursed, their eyes gazing. The first Queen had light hair, piled high on her head around a shimmering crown. Her dress was white and elegant. The second Queen was younger, her golden hair flowing down her back. Her green eyes were piercing as she searched him but she smiled as she caught his eye. There was an exquisite grace to both of them, how they seemed to glow in the dark forest.
“My Queen, it is a boy...” It was the first Queen that said this.
“A boy?” the second Queen’s full lips frowned slightly, gazing at the length of Sam’s body. “No,” she disagreed. “No, it is a man we have here.”
“A man?” the first Queen smiled, shaking her head of snowy curls. “No, not yet.”
“He is a man, my Queen. This I know for sure.”
“I think not. Certainly a boy stands here.”
“Maybe once, but a long time ago.”
“He is but a boy, you are quite mistaken,” assured the first Queen.
The second Queen scoffed. “He’s a man, and I will prove it to you, my Queen.” She produced a golden tape measure from her cape and quickly got to work measuring every part of Sam while the other queen watched carefully. Measuring him from foot to head, head to foot, fingertip to fingertip. “Just as I suspected she said when she was done, waving the tape measure. “Bigger than breadbox but smaller than an island.”
“Measure his brain next, my Queen. It may provide you with more answers.”
“Unnecessary,” the second Queen declined. “I can see it from here, and he is quite certainly a man.”
“I see a boy,” the first Queen insisted.
“Stand where I am standing, my Queen, he looks more like a man from this angle.”
“I don’t want to stand where you’re standing then,” the first Queen sighed. “I like him as a boy.” She pinched his cheek gently.
“That is your problem then,” the second Queen said.
“It is everyone’s problem and no one’s problem,” the first Queen replied. “Some people only see what they want to.” She lifted Sam’s chin with her finger. “There is nothing wrong with that and everything wrong with that.”
“He has a serious case of that.” The second Queen smiled at Sam.
“A case of what?” Sam found himself asking. The second Queen gasped, taking a step back.
“It can speak!” she applauded.
The first Queen nodded simply. “Yes, there may be hope for him yet.”
From somewhere behind him Sam heard a voice murmuring something sounding very near to “I doubt it,” and then a peal of laughter.
“Say more things, won’t you?’ the second Queen urged. Following this was more murmurs from the bushes.
Sam cleared his throat. “I--” He was interrupted by a great deal of hushed whispering.
“Oh for goodness sake,” the first Queen said briskly. “Come out then, if you’re going to gossip.”
The bushes rustled. “No!” a voice called. “He’ll eat us!”
“He’ll chomp us to bits with his jagged teeth!” another voice agreed.
“Wrong, he’ll swallow us whole and then smack his lips,” a third voice contributed.
The second Queen giggled. “Look at him,” she said merrily. “He couldn’t hurt anyone anymore.”
“He’s only a danger to himself,” the first Queen confirmed, giving Sam an affectionate pat on the cheek.
There was more movement in the bushes and then the three creatures emerged. A rabbit, a squirrel, and a small mouse.
The mouse’s eyes were wide. “What happened to him?” it asked.
“What’s wrong with it?” the rabbit inquired.
“Ask him,” the first Queen suggested.
The three creatures looked around at each other, keeping their distance from Sam, each of them afraid to speak to him.
Finally the rabbit spoke up bravely, “Did you meet the monster?”
Sam gave a small shrug. He couldn’t say what happened to him even if he wanted to.
“I saw the monster once,” the mouse shared. “It looks like you.”
“I thought you were the monster at first,” the squirrel admitted. “But the monster could never go so long without blood.”
“It also looks nothing like you,” the mouse added.
Sam shifted his weight uncomfortably. He didn’t know what these creatures were twittering about. All he knew was that the word ‘monster’ was making him cough up a slough of images. A spinning fan, a swirl of blood, one saved message.
“Of course he’s not the monster,” the first Queen laughed. “He’s going to slay the monster. It’s his destiny.”
“You are?” the mouse said in awe, its eyes shining.
“Thank you, thank you!” said the squirrel graciously.
“No, no,” Sam disagreed. “I’ve had enough destiny.” He knew that much.
“If you’re not going to do it for destiny, do it for yourself,” the second Queen chimed in. “You can never be free until the monster is dead.” She pointed to a chain around Sam’s ankle he had not noticed before.
Sam pulled at it, rattling the strong chain. “But I don’t want to kill anyone,” he pleaded.
“Well until you do you’re stuck here in the forest with us,” said the rabbit smugly.
“But I don’t even know where to find the monster.”
“I do believe it will find you, my dear,” said the first Queen. “If you wait around long enough.”
“Don’t let it come here!” the mouse squeaked.
“Oh, you’re safe for now,” the first Queen assured. “But you ought to get going if you want to slay the beast before morning.”
“Yes, before morning!” the squirrel cheered.
“And when dawn comes we feast in celebration!” the mouse shrieked joyously.
“The beast dead, a new day!”
“We cheer!”
“Burn the world! Burn the world!”
“Whoa, hold on,” said Sam. “I don’t want to burn the world and I don’t want to kill anyone.”
“No?” said the rabbit. “But you’ve done it before, I think.”
“I have?”
“Hm,” the rabbit hummed. “Yes, you’re much further gone than I thought.”
“What do you mean?” Sam asked.
“You can’t do it, can you?” the rabbit asked sadly. “You can’t save us from the monster and you can’t save yourself.”
“I’m don’t know,” Sam said. His head ached. “I’m sorry.”
“Dear, dear, sweet child,” the first Queen cooed, patting him gently.
“How worthless,” the rabbit mocked.
“Don’t speak of him like that,” the second Queen hushed, joining the first at his side. “He’s perfect.”
“He’s broken.”
“He’ll save us.”
“He will,” the first Queen agreed. Her fingers ran through his hair in a sheltering way.
“He will,” the second Queen repeated. She caressed his face in a tempting way.
“He will.”
“Won’t you?” the second Queen says this. He focuses on her green eyes. There is something so familiar and yet strange about them. Her hand traces his spine.
It’s painful
“What do I have to do?”
“Burn the world! Burn the world!”
“Hush!” the first Queen silences the creatures. “You have everything you need to complete your task.”
“Fine,” Sam agreed. He pulled away from the Queens as much as he wanted to lean into their touches. As much as he wanted to stay. He didn’t want to put anyone in danger. He took a step forward. “I guess... I’ll go then. Where do I--”
“Oh, but you can’t go alone!” the first Queen gasped. “Imagine it, my Queen, this young thing out and alone by himself!”
“I wouldn’t dare!”
“Why, he’d trip on rock!”
“He’d stumble on a tree branch!”
“He’s much too young and vulnerable!”
Sam sighed, for as much faith as they had in him these Queens didn’t seem to think much of his ability.
“Yes, my Queen, you’re quite right. We must find him a companion.”
“Someone noble,” the first Queen agreed.
“Someone strong and foreboding.”
“I could do it,” someone spoke up. It was the rabbit.
Sam stared. “Um.”
“Of course!” the first Queen cried. “Yes, perfect!”
“No one could be better suited for the job!” the second Queen agreed.
“What?” Sam asked in utter confusion, looking at the small, adorable rabbit, but he was ignored.
“Yes, so it’s decided. You will accompany our hero on his journey.”
“Well,” the rabbit smirked. “It looks like I’m going to have to lead this poor, helpless boy as he--”
“You’re...a bunny!” Sam interjected, feeling angry.
“Yeah, and you’re like some sort of escaped mental patient with an inferiority complex but you don’t hear me complaining,” the rabbit replied in a bored tone. “Besides, rabbits make great companions. We know all the nooks and crannies of the forest, and I mean, we’re not that great at hunting, but...” The rabbit smiled coyly, circling Sam for a moment. “I think you’ve all but left that side of the chase behind, haven’t you?”
“Sure,” Sam deadpanned. “All I have to do now is slay the frickin beast of the forest. With no weapon.”
“Oh, by my dear,” the second Queen smiled. “Anyone can slay a beast, but its not a story until you do it wounded, unarmed, and with the fate of the world on the line.”
“Great,” Sam said. He turned to the rabbit. “Fine, let’s go then.”
“Yes, come along,” the rabbit agreed, hopping ahead of him. “No, don’t get too close to me though. Insanity is infectious.”
Sam sighed, turning to follow the rabbit, walking a couple of paces behind. As he left the clearing the two Queens called,
“Deeper into the forest!”
“Deeper into the mind!”
- - -
The chain dragged along the ground as he walked.
If Sam turned and ventured in the other direction, the way he had come, he’d be pulling at it, but this way the chain was leading him, guiding him into the even darker parts of the black forest.
The rabbit walked slightly ahead of him, bouncing side to side on the snowy ground, hopping over Sam’s chain. They said nothing to each other. An unfortunate companionship they were, forged but not seamlessly.
Sam heard a wolf howl somewhere far away, the hoot of an owl. A woodpecker was pounding pounding pounding a tree, looking for someone who’d left a long time ago.
“So,” the rabbit finally spoke, breaking Sam out of his reverie. “Don’t think I didn’t notice.”
“Notice what?” Sam asked carefully.
“That you hate me.” The rabbit smiled at Sam, falling back to walk more in stride with him. “It’s kind of funny, I gotta admit.”
“I don’t--I don’t hate you...”
“Yes you do,” the rabbit nodded. “But don’t worry, most people do.”
“No, I don’t, I just--I really don’t think you can help me.”
“And why not?”
“Because you’re--you’re just so...fluffy.”
“Hey, look who’s talking, Rapunzel.”
Sam sighed, brushing hair out of his eyes. “Right.”
“Look,” said the rabbit. “Maybe I can’t help you. I can’t fix you, okay. But this thing that you’re trying to do...you can’t do it alone.”
“And you can help me,” Sam said skeptically.
“Always with the criticism, why is that?”
“Well, because you’re so...small...”
“Enough short people have kicked your ass to disprove your little bigger is better theory, sasquatch. What else you got?”
“Well, there’s the fact that you’re a bunny.”
“Rabbits are the fiercest animals, try again.”
“Okay,” Sam agreed complacently. “But you’re still an animal.”
“Says the guy on the leash,” the rabbit snickered, hopping over Sam’s chain.
“Right,” Sam mumbled, kicking up the chain with his foot. “So this..monster...when I was--a while ago I saw something.” Sam spoke fast as the memories came to him. He felt he had to get the words out quickly before they left him. “There was this--this caterpillar.”
“Yup.”
“So that was the monster?” Sam asked, trying to think how he would even go about killing a giant magical caterpillar.
“Yeah, well of course you’ve met the monster. You are it’s soul prey. When it closes it’s eyes it sees you. It breathes to find you.”
“Great,” said Sam. “So then how far until we find this caterpillar?”
“Not caterpillar,” the rabbit corrected. “Time are changing, you know.”
Sam tried to think about that as good news but he was pretty sure he didn’t want to kill any giant magical butterflies either.
“And we’re almost there.”
- - -
It’s FRICKIN COLD!”
“Yeah, well shoutin’ about it ain’t gonna make it any warmer,” Bobby huffed in response.
Dean shivered, tucking his gloved hands into his armpits in an effort to warm them. “Doesn’t mean I’m not gonna do it,” he mumbled.
“Son, Sam’s been out here hours longer than either of us so quit your complainin’.”
Dean sighed, his breath immediately fogging in the frozen air. As if he needed reminding of that little detail. As if he wasn’t worried enough already.
“Are we there yet?” he joked, trying to lighten the mood, keep his mind off of Sam. “I mean I though you were supposed to be good at this tracking thing.”
“I am,” Bobby insisted. “That’s what worries me.”
“So what? You’re saying that--”
“I’m not saying anything,” Bobby interjected. “But Dean. You and I, we can’t say out here much longer with us freezin’ to death. We’ve come a long way. If we don’t find Sam soon maybe we oughta--”
“No,” Dean interrupted, realizing what Bobby was about to suggest.
“We can call someone, Dean. Get some help...”
“I’m not just going to leave Sam out here, Bobby.”
“I care about Sam too, but Montana’s a big place. And it’s cold as a witch’s titties out here.”
“You’re the one who told me not to complain. That Sam’s been out here hours longer?”
“Yeah well I meant that--”
“That what?” Dean asked irately. “That it might have been too long? That Sam might be dead?”
“I said I wasn’t saying anything! Okay, forget I said a word, let’s just keep walkin’.”
“Maybe we should split up,” Dean suggested. “Cover more ground that way.”
“You want to die?” Bobby asked harshly. “You’re talkin’ suicide, boy. We’d sure be screwed if we split from each other. The best way to stay safe is to stick together.”
“Fine,” Dean agreed grudgingly, marching ahead of Bobby.
“We’ll just keep walking, Dean,” said Bobby from behind him. “We won’t turn back unless you want to.”
“Best idea you’ve had in--”
“Dean, stop!”
“WHAT?” Dean yelled, halting in his tracks.
“Dean, look,” Bobby said excitedly.
“I’m looking, what is it?” Dean asked in annoyance.
“There,” Bobby pointed. “Footprint.”
Dean’s eyes followed Bobby’s gloved finger to the ground in front of him where there, clearly stamped into the snow was the imprint of a shoe. His heart started beating fast. “Sam’s?”
“Think so,” said Bobby, bending down and peering at the tracks. “Sam have shoes like these?”
“Uuum...” Dean said, trying to recall. “Possibly, I don’t know. It’s gotta be Sam’s though, right?”
“Yeah, it’s gotta be.”
“So all we need to do is follow the tracks, right? And they’ll lead us to Sam like a damn breadcrumb trail.”
“Yeah, that’s generally how tracking works,” Bobby rolled his eyes.
“Awesome,” Dean said, starting ahead quickly with Bobby on his tail.
“One thing though,” Bobby added as they practically ran through Sam’s footprints. “How is it that you with your young eyes don’t notice this?”
“Shut up,” Dean called over his shoulder. He felt a smile tug at his lips.
We’re coming, Sammy. We’re coming.
- - -
They don’t find the beast when it’s sleeping, or even distracted by burning down a village. No, it’s waiting poised for them in the darkest part of the forest. It’s claws out, it’s teeth bared, it’s yellow eyes hungry.
It had transformed, grown into a building sized monstrosity with a snout that could swallow down a man whole, and great leathery wings like a bat.
“So,” the dragon said simply. “You finally found me.”
“That’s right,” Sam said, taking one step closer to the dragon and noting that the other end of the chain around his ankle was tightly locked around the dragon’s neck. “Wasn’t hard.”
“I’m not surprised,” the dragon admitted. “You always did have an eye for trouble...Sam.”
“Did I?” Sam asked.
“Yes, though I suppose you don’t remember...There are a lot of things that I could tell you, my boy.”
“Alright, well,” the rabbit interjected. “Can we just skip the monologue and get straight to the part where we kill you?”
“You’re going to kill me?” the dragon smiled. “How?”
“With um...” Sam shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “Well, its a bit of a surprise...”
The dragon laughed grandly. “I would love for you to kill me, Sam, I really would. Do you still have it in you, I wonder?”
“Do it,” the rabbit urged. “Use it now.”
“Use what?” Sam whispered.
But the rabbit didn’t have time to answer that because the dragon was laughing again. A mighty, horrible laugh. It then took a great breath and exhaled, spewing a huge gasp of fire at them. Sam ducked just in time. He pulled the rabbit away right before a second giant flame shot from the dragon’s mouth, aimed at the ground.
“You’re never gonna be okay, Sam,” the dragon taunted. “Look at you, cowering for your life.” With this the dragon released another puff of flames that nearly missed him.
Sam could feel the heat, and smell the smoke as a some of the leaves of the trees were set on fire. The forest was too wet to burn, but the dragon was giving it the old college try.
The dragon blew more and more fire at him and Sam ran like hell to dodge it, courageous thoughts of slaying the beast nearly gone from his mind.
“Oh come ON! You’re hardly even fighting back,” the dragon said as Sam ducked to avoid a breath of fire that flew over his head.
Sam straighted, staring at the dragon who was poised to take another breath. “Tell me,” he said.
“Tell you hhhhhhwhat?” the dragon replied politely.
“Tell me...everything.”
The dragon snickered, then swung it’s tail around and whipped it at Sam, knocking him to the ground. “My dear boy. Don’t you know that half the battle is not knowing? Because once you know, you certainly aren’t going to keep fighting.”
The ground hit him hard. He coughed, sputtered. His head was spinning. Sam ached. The breath had been knocked out of him, but he got to his feet. He wasn’t going to listen to the monster. There were things he needed to know. But he could only see a few select images when he really tried to strain to remember. Shreds of bloody skin, a hole in the ground, ‘To Palo Alto: one way.’
“No,” Sam said, his voice strong though he felt so bruised.
“You know what I did, Sam?” the dragon smiled with its yellow eyes shining. “What we did?”
“You think I’m like you, you’re wrong.”
“Do it then. Kill me.” The dragon blew more flames at Sam so he did what the dragon would never expect. He walked straight into the flames.
He was burning. The dragon roared, screaming at him, the flames searing from his mouth and eating at Sam’s flesh. Inside the flames the heat was so intense, it was everywhere. But there was one thing that was cold.
The dragon finally stopped for a breath and from his pocket Sam pulled out the icicle. He thought the it would surely have been melted away by the flames, but it wasn’t. It was frozen to the core, completely solid.
“Excellent!” the rabbit yelled. “Use it!”
Sam waved the icicle in front of him, feeling foolish. The dragon chuckled at him, breathing more fire but the icicle would not melt.
Still, he was beginning to feel the icicle was useless, too short to poke anywhere and too fragile to throw. But Sam brandished the icicle some more until it grew into a sword. A long, slender, silver sword fitting perfectly in Sam’s hand. Before the dragon could blow more fire Sam lunged forward with his sword, aiming for the dragon’s chest.
But his blade could not find purchase in the dragon’s thick scales and it merely bounced off. The dragon took advantage of Sam’s close vicinity and swiped at him with it’s claw, slashing Sam’s arm.
He was bleeding. Blood dripped down into the snow. Sam could barely lift his arm but he raised the sword over his head, bringing it down. Still he could not penetrate the dragon’s hide.
There was cruel, insane laughter coming from the dragon now. Sam felt so helpless. He could almost not hold onto the the sword any longer and even worse, it was changing. Becoming smaller and smoother until it was an ice white stone that fit in the palm of his hand. A lot of good that would do him.
To his surprise, the dragon looked at the stone and screamed in rage. “Doesn’t mean anything!” it yelled.
Believe in it, you gotta believe.
“You gotta make it stone number one,” Sam murmured, staring at the object in his hand. Raising his arm, the threw it as hard as he could at the dragon. “And build on it.”
The stone embedded itself into the chest of the great dragon and white fibers spread from it, infecting the area around it and then the whole body of the dragon, turning the beast into stone itself. The dragon gave one last mighty cry before it fell down with a terrible thump, its fall broken only by the piles of white snow.
“The beast is dead!” the rabbit cried. “Burn the world!”
Sam looked at the dragon, the chain was still around it’s huge stone neck, and still around his ankle. He tried to pull it off but it remained firmly.
“Hey,” he said to the rabbit. “I thought I would be freed. If I killed the dragon...”
“You think I care?” the rabbit said gleefully. “Burn the world! Burn the world!” the rabbit ran off into the forest.
“Wait!” Sam called after it, but if it heard him it did not turn around.
Sam collapsed on the ground beside the huge stone corpse. The snow was coming quickly, maybe it would cover him.
He had fought the beast and won, but he was still trapped here with it. Why did he feel like he had been in the place before?
He didn’t know how long he laid there before the Queens arrived.
They danced onto the scene, magnificent gowns floating, golden hair blowing in the breeze. They whispered.
“There it is, my Queen.”
“Yes, my Queen, I see it.”
“Are you well, my dear?” the first Queen asked, gliding over to him and helping him up from off the ground.
“You’ve saved us,” the second Queen told him. She produced two teacups and a teapot from her cape and poured herself and the other Queen a cup of tea.
“You said--you said I would be free,” Sam accused.
“Ah yes,” the first Queen agreed. “Except we failed to estimate just how much damage you’d do to yourself.”
“But you’re quite okay,” the second Queen assured him, drinking her tea.
“I’m bleeding,” Sam said miserably.
“So am I,” the first Queen shared, revealing a wound in her abdomen which stained her white dress.
“Me too,” the second Queen agreed.
“I know,” Sam stated. “It’s my fault.”
“Spilt blood, my dear, don’t cry over it.”
“I thought the expression was spilt milk...”
“Not in your case,” the first Queen replied briskly.
“I’ve also been burned,” Sam added.
“Fire is nothing to fear, my dear,” said the second Queen, brushing soot from his hair. “My life began with fire.”
“As did mine,” the first Queen nodded.
“Yes,” said Sam. “And I wish I could take that all back.”
“Some things can’t be undone,” the first Queen said sadly, looking him over. “You may be one of them.”
“Where did I go wrong?” Sam wondered.
“My dear,” the second Queen laughed laughed girlishly. “In life you will seldom be able to see points where you can say ‘yes this is the spot, this spot here is where it all went wrong.” The Queen took another small sip of tea. “However, in your life I can see a very big ‘yes this is where it went wrong.”
“More like just a big ‘yes,’” the first Queen added.
“No,” said Sam. “That wasn’t where it all went wrong. That was the best decision I ever made.”
“Then stop running from it,” the second Queen suggested pleasantly.
“You’ve had enough running, I should think,” the first Queen agreed.
Sam couldn’t argue. He felt so tired.
“This is where we leave you,” the second Queen told him as his legs collapsed from underneath him and he fell once more into the snow. He watched the two Queen glide away, whispering.
“My Queen, it is done.”
“My Queen, it is over.”
“The monster is dead.”
“The knight rests his head.”
“Sleep, my dear, sleep.”
- - -
The tracks were getting newer, fresher. Bobby had pointed this out to Dean, although he didn’t need him to. It was almost as though he could feel that Sam was somewhere nearby. His Sammy senses were tingling.
They had dressed for the weather, but the storm was still unnerving. Dean could barely stand it. He knew they had to find Sam, and soon. But they were almost there. They were almost. He could feel it so much.
So much that it was almost comical the way Dean didn’t see his brother laying in the snow at first. He was nearly covered by the white flakes, Dean could barely see anything except what he shined his flashlight on, but still Dean was surprised that he almost tripped over Sam.
“Bobby, Bobby, it’s Sam,” Dean said unnecessarily, immediately going to his knees, brushing off the snow to check for a pulse. It was there, but just barely.
Sam was ice cold to Dean’s touch as he tried to wake him. “Sam. Sammy.”
Sam’s eyes slowly opened just a little. “Dean,” he said.
Dean could have died with relief. “Dammit, Sam. I thought I lost you.”
“You did,” was Sam’s tired response.
“Dean, come on, let’s get him back,” Bobby urged. Together they got Sam to his feet though he had to lean on Dean for support.
One arm went over Dean’s shoulder’s, the other over Bobby’s, and they pulled.
- - -
Sam seemed to drift in and out as they were bringing him back to safety. He usually knew where he was but a lot of things seemed to concern him.
“No, it blew away,” Sam insisted as they pulled him into the cabin.
“Shh, Sam, it’s okay,” Dean soothed, because he didn’t know how else to respond to that. In the light of the cabin he could see that Sam was in a bad state. He skin was drained of color, there were a few blisters on his hands from the cold. His clothes were dirty, ripped, and torn, his hair wet and frozen.
Bobby went to get blankets and heat up some water while Dean helped his brother to the couch. Sam laid down stiffly.
“Am I free, Dean?” he asked.
“Yeah, Sam.” Dean put on a brave smile for his brother. “Yeah, we got you out.”
“Come on,” said Bobby, laying down a stack of blankets next to the couch. “We need to get his clothes off.”
Dean nodded. He had to focus. “Yeah.” He pulled off Sam’s jacket. “God, he’s frozen.”
“He’s gonna be okay, Dean,” Bobby assured him, pulling off Sam’s shoes and socks despite Sam’s protest of “Noooo! Chain!”
“Um, Bobby,” Dean said as pulling off Sam’s torn shirt revealed a deep set of parallel scratches in Sam’s arm. “You think something got at him?”
“Naw, looks like he did it to himself,” Bobby replied, lifting Sam’s other hand to show him. Dean took note of the blood under Sam’s fingernails and nodded.
“Right.”
“I didn’t!” Sam yelled.
“I’ll get the first aid kit,” Bobby sighed.
While Bobby was gone Dean pulled off Sam’s pants and boxers and began putting blankets over him. Sam didn’t like it. The tighter Dean tucked the blankets, the more blankets he put on, the more Sam protested.
“No! No! Don’t make me! No! Not the monster. Not a caterpillar.”
“Sam, you’re not making sense,” Dean pleaded, clutching Sam’s frozen hand in his, in an attempt to unthaw his brother.
“Dean,” Sam said urgently, his eyes wide. “I’m burning.”
Dean shook his head. “That’s just the frostbite, stupid.”
Bobby returned with the first aid kit and Dean carefully cleaned Sam’s wounds before piling more blankets on top of him.
“It’s a cocoon,” Sam insisted desperately.
“That’s right, Sam,” Dean agreed, complacently as he tried to make Sam drink the hot tea from the mug he was holding.
“You’re a queen,” Sam told him.
“Thanks, Sammy,” Dean smiled, wishing this was an appropriate time to tease his brother about the stupid stuff he was saying.
“No,” Sam shook his head. “No, you’re not. And I am not a dragon.”
Rating: PG-13
Characters/pairings: Sam, Dean, Bobby
Fandom: Supernatural
Word count: 6, 748
Notes: Written for the ohsam fic challenge for a prompt by quickreaver -- Season 7. Dean finally cuts off the damned cast and they make ready to leave the cabin.Sam has taken to long walks/runs in the woods to shake off Lucifer but as luck would have it, he gets disoriented and the hallucinations act up and he finds himself well and truly lost.
I was really rushed in finishing this so it didn't turn out exactly like I planned, but I hope you enjoy it anyway.
Summary: There were monsters in these woods, and no matter how fast he ran, they caught up to him.
When he looked back, the cabin blew away. Sam thought it was made of stone but he couldn’t trust these things.
It turned into straw as it left, whispering through the leaves and in a hurry, definitely had somewhere to be. Somewhere better than this. Sam had nowhere to be himself, but he had things to run from. There were monsters in these woods, and no matter how fast he ran, they caught up to him.
One of them was a caterpillar, another was himself.
The caterpillar was as long as he was, had eyes yellow like shining orbs, and gained on him every moment. In the forest shade the crawling creeping menace shined, while every time Sam tripped over a black root he fell further into the shadows.
There were monsters in these woods and he had to run but the caterpillar chased the breath out of him until it was frozen, racing it to arctic temperatures and fogging up the air with white clouds that surrounded him. They were like smoke how they furled around, twisting up his arm. In his hand they solidified, growing into an icicle. Sam put the icicle in his pocket. He might need it later.
“So...just you and me, huh?” the caterpillar’s voice was also his own. Sam looked around and found it was hanging from a tree by a rusted chain. The chain groaned in agitation as it slightly swung side to side.
“You are never gonna be okay, Sam,” the caterpillar told him coyly, its chain rattling menacingly at Sam.
With no response the creature began to change. A bubble formed around it, filmy and bulbous. As it tightened the caterpillar curled and contorted. He could see it smiling with all of its pointed teeth inside its cocoon and its yellow eyes that pierced the darkness until the shell became thick, opaque, and perfectly reflective, concealing the monster but showing him a mirror of himself in its place.
Sam backed away from the mirror and ran from it.
There were two monsters in these woods. One of them was a caterpillar.
- - -
Though it had seemed reasonable at the time, Dean Winchester was beginning to think that letting his maybe-psychotic, definitely-hallucinating little brother go for a walk in the woods by himself had not been such a great idea after all.
But Dean hadn’t been thinking straight, going stir crazy stuck inside this cabin, and he had thought it would just be one of Sam’s hippie, granola munching, in touch with nature, I’ll be right back after I’ve found myself kind of hikes. Not a bread crumbs eaten by birds, he was never seen or heard from again sort of deal. But now that Sam had been gone almost three hours, Dean was pretty sure it was the second one.
After all, it was getting dark, it had to be nearly freezing out, and Dean’s brother had the added bonus of being partially or completely crazy. Yeah, Dean was definitely going after the kid.
Dean was cursing Sam as he pulled on his shoes. You know, “Jeez Sam, am I really gonna have to haul your ass out of those woods?”, “Do you know how freaking cold it is out there?”, “A goddamn nature hike, Sam? Nice going getting yourself lost!”
But deep down, in a dusty place he liked to shove feelings and other chick things and wash them down with cheap booze, Dean knew he didn’t blame Sam so much as he was worried about him, and blamed the world for giving Dean’s brother yet another thing to deal with.
He supposed things had been getting too good around here these last three weeks, what with all the broken legs and head injuries. A traumatic romp through the woulds would definitely spice things up.
In the middle of pulling on his coat, Dean’s attention immediately turned to the door as Bobby came through it, grumbling about the cold that he was letting into the cabin in the form of a freezing draft.
“Hey, just cause you got that cast off don’t mean you got to be walking around all the time,” Bobby said, setting a brown paper bag of groceries, or maybe books, atop the table. “Sit down, son.” He settled himself onto the couch as he said this. “You ain’t goin’ out, are you?” Bobby questioned when he looked over at Dean and saw that he had his boots on and was zipping up his jacket. “There’s ‘sposed to be a storm coming. You picked a piss poor time to go for a walk.”
“I’m not going for a walk, Bobby,” Dean responded in frustration. “Sam went for a walk, probably got lost with that messed up mind of his. I’m going after him.”
“Dean,” said Bobby urgently. “I ain’t kidding ‘bout that snowstorm, and its gettin’ dark. If Sam’s out there in those woods, we better find him and fast.”
“Snowstorm? It’s October.”
“Yeah, in Montana. In the mountains. Ain’t that rare.”
“Well that’s just great,” Dean sighed. “You got a flashlight?”
“Sure do. But hang on a minute. There’re a couple other things we oughta bring.”
“This better not take long,” Dean grumbled. The longer he waited the harder it would be to find Sam.
“Just give me a bit to get some supplies together.” Bobby heaved himself off the couch. “Thought it might be an interesting idea to be, you know, actually prepared for a mountain rescue,” he said, before disappearing into the other room.
Dean huffed a breath, turning to the window. Through the curtains he could see the darkening sky was filled with clouds and even a few dusty flakes of snow that had already begun to flutter down.
- - -
The floor of the forest was now covered in white possums, baby possums that yelped every time Sam took a step and the mother possum warned, “Tread lightly, boy.”
Sam wanted to run from the monsters in these woods but he was making roadkill here so he slowed to a careful walk, and the squealing of the possums dissipated, making way for a new soundtrack of echoes.
The echoes were the forest. They were one and the same, haunting and hunting him, edging him forward.
When Sam stopped to stare at the web of branches crawling like veins in the sky, the wind called to him. “Keep moving, Sam,” it said.
The veins rustled. “Don’t stop again, Sam,” they instructed, dripping blood onto the back of Sam’s neck.
“You have to get going, Sam,” the crickets urged. And Sam did.
It was easy to forget why he was traveling. He thought he might have somewhere to be, but then he remembered. He had nowhere to be himself, but he had things to run from. One was himself and he couldn’t remember what the other one was.
Himself, he thought the other one might be himself.
That made sense.
It was just that everything in these woods looked like a contender for a possible foe, definitely a reason for hasty escape. Trees sneered at him unpleasantly, their furrowing branches glaring. Vines hissed at him as he walked past.
“Get going, get going.” The crickets again.
Sam walked faster.
A great horned owl swept overhead. “You’re not in hell anymore,” it hooted. “You’re with us.”
His pace quickened.
“You got away.” A wolf howling in the distance. “We got you out, Sammy.”
He leaped forward, hurling himself as fast as he could go.
A woodpecker. “I’m the one who raised you from-”
The ground dumped him and Sam went tumbling down.
- - -
Brothers were annoying, little brothers doubly so, but nothing was quite as annoying as a hell-ridden, half crazy little brother with a stubborn independent streak.
If Dean didn’t have this pain in the ass little brother, he could be indoors right now, instead of romping through the woods, freezing his ass off, and bellowing Sam’s name in the feeble hope that he would hear it wherever he was and be lucid enough to respond.
As it was, Dean did have a pain in the ass little brother who was very much missing and Dean was very much going out of his mind. There was always something to worry about, wasn’t there?
About half an inch of snow had accumulated on the ground already and Sam had been gone a while, especially since Bobby had taken so long in getting together their gear - gloves, scarves, hats, and winter coats. They were keeping Dean relatively warm, sure, but Sam had left the cabin in a cargo jacket and Dean knew it was possible to freeze to death in under an hour.
He didn’t know exactly how cold it was, but he was guessing one million degrees below zero.
“Looky here...” Bobby said suddenly.
Dean’s next call of “SAMMY!” died in his throat and his head snapped around to see what Bobby had stopped for, his heart drumming in his chest. Please let this be a sign that Sammy’s okay.
Bobby walked closer to one of the trees. Dean followed.
“What is it?” he asked.
“Snow’s covered most of Sam’s tracks... He left this part of the woods a while ago.”
“Thanks, Bobby. You’re so helpful. I’m glad we’re wasting time standing here talking about how Sam’s not here right now. Because you know I really hadn’t noticed that.”
Bobby sighed exasperatedly. “That’s not the news, son, I’m just telling you, ya idjit.” He pointed to the tree with his gloved hand. “Like I said, tracks on the ground are worthless but the branches on this tree have been broken recently. Someone ran past here, probably going pretty fast.”
“Sam?”
“Well it was a definitely a someone, not a something. Ain’t many critters in these woods. Some deer, but deer ’d be better at avoiding trees than a-”
“Unbalanced mountain man?” Dean finished.
“Yes. And look at the height of these branches,” Bobby pointed. “Was definitely someone tall coming by here.”
“Sammy, you damn sasquatch,” Dean murmured affectionately. “So this means...?”
“This just means we’re heading in the right direction,” Bobby sighed.
“And that’s if this is Sam we’re following and not some genetically deficient buck.”
“Bingo,” Bobby agreed.
Dean buried his face in his gloves. When he closed his eyes he could see Sammy lost somewhere far up in the mountains, his body laying, cold and empty on the forest floor and blood staining the snow...
His eyes snapped open. “Let’s go.” Dean’s voice was set, and it pushed him forward. “Just gotta keep moving. We’re going to find Sam.”
Alive, at least. Please let him be alive. Dean would take care of the rest.
- - -
“My Queen, what have we here?”
“Let’s see, my Queen, what have you found?”
“Something quite interesting, I dare say.”
“Well, let’s have a look...”
Sam felt a hand on his face, dainty and light. His eyes opened, revealing two lovely faces with peering, wondering looks.
“It’s alive!” the first Queen gasped, her hand covering her mouth.
“Get it up,” the second Queen instructed, and then Sam felt delicate but forceful hands grab him, pulling him to his feet.
The two Queens then stepped back, examining him, their lips pursed, their eyes gazing. The first Queen had light hair, piled high on her head around a shimmering crown. Her dress was white and elegant. The second Queen was younger, her golden hair flowing down her back. Her green eyes were piercing as she searched him but she smiled as she caught his eye. There was an exquisite grace to both of them, how they seemed to glow in the dark forest.
“My Queen, it is a boy...” It was the first Queen that said this.
“A boy?” the second Queen’s full lips frowned slightly, gazing at the length of Sam’s body. “No,” she disagreed. “No, it is a man we have here.”
“A man?” the first Queen smiled, shaking her head of snowy curls. “No, not yet.”
“He is a man, my Queen. This I know for sure.”
“I think not. Certainly a boy stands here.”
“Maybe once, but a long time ago.”
“He is but a boy, you are quite mistaken,” assured the first Queen.
The second Queen scoffed. “He’s a man, and I will prove it to you, my Queen.” She produced a golden tape measure from her cape and quickly got to work measuring every part of Sam while the other queen watched carefully. Measuring him from foot to head, head to foot, fingertip to fingertip. “Just as I suspected she said when she was done, waving the tape measure. “Bigger than breadbox but smaller than an island.”
“Measure his brain next, my Queen. It may provide you with more answers.”
“Unnecessary,” the second Queen declined. “I can see it from here, and he is quite certainly a man.”
“I see a boy,” the first Queen insisted.
“Stand where I am standing, my Queen, he looks more like a man from this angle.”
“I don’t want to stand where you’re standing then,” the first Queen sighed. “I like him as a boy.” She pinched his cheek gently.
“That is your problem then,” the second Queen said.
“It is everyone’s problem and no one’s problem,” the first Queen replied. “Some people only see what they want to.” She lifted Sam’s chin with her finger. “There is nothing wrong with that and everything wrong with that.”
“He has a serious case of that.” The second Queen smiled at Sam.
“A case of what?” Sam found himself asking. The second Queen gasped, taking a step back.
“It can speak!” she applauded.
The first Queen nodded simply. “Yes, there may be hope for him yet.”
From somewhere behind him Sam heard a voice murmuring something sounding very near to “I doubt it,” and then a peal of laughter.
“Say more things, won’t you?’ the second Queen urged. Following this was more murmurs from the bushes.
Sam cleared his throat. “I--” He was interrupted by a great deal of hushed whispering.
“Oh for goodness sake,” the first Queen said briskly. “Come out then, if you’re going to gossip.”
The bushes rustled. “No!” a voice called. “He’ll eat us!”
“He’ll chomp us to bits with his jagged teeth!” another voice agreed.
“Wrong, he’ll swallow us whole and then smack his lips,” a third voice contributed.
The second Queen giggled. “Look at him,” she said merrily. “He couldn’t hurt anyone anymore.”
“He’s only a danger to himself,” the first Queen confirmed, giving Sam an affectionate pat on the cheek.
There was more movement in the bushes and then the three creatures emerged. A rabbit, a squirrel, and a small mouse.
The mouse’s eyes were wide. “What happened to him?” it asked.
“What’s wrong with it?” the rabbit inquired.
“Ask him,” the first Queen suggested.
The three creatures looked around at each other, keeping their distance from Sam, each of them afraid to speak to him.
Finally the rabbit spoke up bravely, “Did you meet the monster?”
Sam gave a small shrug. He couldn’t say what happened to him even if he wanted to.
“I saw the monster once,” the mouse shared. “It looks like you.”
“I thought you were the monster at first,” the squirrel admitted. “But the monster could never go so long without blood.”
“It also looks nothing like you,” the mouse added.
Sam shifted his weight uncomfortably. He didn’t know what these creatures were twittering about. All he knew was that the word ‘monster’ was making him cough up a slough of images. A spinning fan, a swirl of blood, one saved message.
“Of course he’s not the monster,” the first Queen laughed. “He’s going to slay the monster. It’s his destiny.”
“You are?” the mouse said in awe, its eyes shining.
“Thank you, thank you!” said the squirrel graciously.
“No, no,” Sam disagreed. “I’ve had enough destiny.” He knew that much.
“If you’re not going to do it for destiny, do it for yourself,” the second Queen chimed in. “You can never be free until the monster is dead.” She pointed to a chain around Sam’s ankle he had not noticed before.
Sam pulled at it, rattling the strong chain. “But I don’t want to kill anyone,” he pleaded.
“Well until you do you’re stuck here in the forest with us,” said the rabbit smugly.
“But I don’t even know where to find the monster.”
“I do believe it will find you, my dear,” said the first Queen. “If you wait around long enough.”
“Don’t let it come here!” the mouse squeaked.
“Oh, you’re safe for now,” the first Queen assured. “But you ought to get going if you want to slay the beast before morning.”
“Yes, before morning!” the squirrel cheered.
“And when dawn comes we feast in celebration!” the mouse shrieked joyously.
“The beast dead, a new day!”
“We cheer!”
“Burn the world! Burn the world!”
“Whoa, hold on,” said Sam. “I don’t want to burn the world and I don’t want to kill anyone.”
“No?” said the rabbit. “But you’ve done it before, I think.”
“I have?”
“Hm,” the rabbit hummed. “Yes, you’re much further gone than I thought.”
“What do you mean?” Sam asked.
“You can’t do it, can you?” the rabbit asked sadly. “You can’t save us from the monster and you can’t save yourself.”
“I’m don’t know,” Sam said. His head ached. “I’m sorry.”
“Dear, dear, sweet child,” the first Queen cooed, patting him gently.
“How worthless,” the rabbit mocked.
“Don’t speak of him like that,” the second Queen hushed, joining the first at his side. “He’s perfect.”
“He’s broken.”
“He’ll save us.”
“He will,” the first Queen agreed. Her fingers ran through his hair in a sheltering way.
“He will,” the second Queen repeated. She caressed his face in a tempting way.
“He will.”
“Won’t you?” the second Queen says this. He focuses on her green eyes. There is something so familiar and yet strange about them. Her hand traces his spine.
It’s painful
“What do I have to do?”
“Burn the world! Burn the world!”
“Hush!” the first Queen silences the creatures. “You have everything you need to complete your task.”
“Fine,” Sam agreed. He pulled away from the Queens as much as he wanted to lean into their touches. As much as he wanted to stay. He didn’t want to put anyone in danger. He took a step forward. “I guess... I’ll go then. Where do I--”
“Oh, but you can’t go alone!” the first Queen gasped. “Imagine it, my Queen, this young thing out and alone by himself!”
“I wouldn’t dare!”
“Why, he’d trip on rock!”
“He’d stumble on a tree branch!”
“He’s much too young and vulnerable!”
Sam sighed, for as much faith as they had in him these Queens didn’t seem to think much of his ability.
“Yes, my Queen, you’re quite right. We must find him a companion.”
“Someone noble,” the first Queen agreed.
“Someone strong and foreboding.”
“I could do it,” someone spoke up. It was the rabbit.
Sam stared. “Um.”
“Of course!” the first Queen cried. “Yes, perfect!”
“No one could be better suited for the job!” the second Queen agreed.
“What?” Sam asked in utter confusion, looking at the small, adorable rabbit, but he was ignored.
“Yes, so it’s decided. You will accompany our hero on his journey.”
“Well,” the rabbit smirked. “It looks like I’m going to have to lead this poor, helpless boy as he--”
“You’re...a bunny!” Sam interjected, feeling angry.
“Yeah, and you’re like some sort of escaped mental patient with an inferiority complex but you don’t hear me complaining,” the rabbit replied in a bored tone. “Besides, rabbits make great companions. We know all the nooks and crannies of the forest, and I mean, we’re not that great at hunting, but...” The rabbit smiled coyly, circling Sam for a moment. “I think you’ve all but left that side of the chase behind, haven’t you?”
“Sure,” Sam deadpanned. “All I have to do now is slay the frickin beast of the forest. With no weapon.”
“Oh, by my dear,” the second Queen smiled. “Anyone can slay a beast, but its not a story until you do it wounded, unarmed, and with the fate of the world on the line.”
“Great,” Sam said. He turned to the rabbit. “Fine, let’s go then.”
“Yes, come along,” the rabbit agreed, hopping ahead of him. “No, don’t get too close to me though. Insanity is infectious.”
Sam sighed, turning to follow the rabbit, walking a couple of paces behind. As he left the clearing the two Queens called,
“Deeper into the forest!”
“Deeper into the mind!”
- - -
The chain dragged along the ground as he walked.
If Sam turned and ventured in the other direction, the way he had come, he’d be pulling at it, but this way the chain was leading him, guiding him into the even darker parts of the black forest.
The rabbit walked slightly ahead of him, bouncing side to side on the snowy ground, hopping over Sam’s chain. They said nothing to each other. An unfortunate companionship they were, forged but not seamlessly.
Sam heard a wolf howl somewhere far away, the hoot of an owl. A woodpecker was pounding pounding pounding a tree, looking for someone who’d left a long time ago.
“So,” the rabbit finally spoke, breaking Sam out of his reverie. “Don’t think I didn’t notice.”
“Notice what?” Sam asked carefully.
“That you hate me.” The rabbit smiled at Sam, falling back to walk more in stride with him. “It’s kind of funny, I gotta admit.”
“I don’t--I don’t hate you...”
“Yes you do,” the rabbit nodded. “But don’t worry, most people do.”
“No, I don’t, I just--I really don’t think you can help me.”
“And why not?”
“Because you’re--you’re just so...fluffy.”
“Hey, look who’s talking, Rapunzel.”
Sam sighed, brushing hair out of his eyes. “Right.”
“Look,” said the rabbit. “Maybe I can’t help you. I can’t fix you, okay. But this thing that you’re trying to do...you can’t do it alone.”
“And you can help me,” Sam said skeptically.
“Always with the criticism, why is that?”
“Well, because you’re so...small...”
“Enough short people have kicked your ass to disprove your little bigger is better theory, sasquatch. What else you got?”
“Well, there’s the fact that you’re a bunny.”
“Rabbits are the fiercest animals, try again.”
“Okay,” Sam agreed complacently. “But you’re still an animal.”
“Says the guy on the leash,” the rabbit snickered, hopping over Sam’s chain.
“Right,” Sam mumbled, kicking up the chain with his foot. “So this..monster...when I was--a while ago I saw something.” Sam spoke fast as the memories came to him. He felt he had to get the words out quickly before they left him. “There was this--this caterpillar.”
“Yup.”
“So that was the monster?” Sam asked, trying to think how he would even go about killing a giant magical caterpillar.
“Yeah, well of course you’ve met the monster. You are it’s soul prey. When it closes it’s eyes it sees you. It breathes to find you.”
“Great,” said Sam. “So then how far until we find this caterpillar?”
“Not caterpillar,” the rabbit corrected. “Time are changing, you know.”
Sam tried to think about that as good news but he was pretty sure he didn’t want to kill any giant magical butterflies either.
“And we’re almost there.”
- - -
It’s FRICKIN COLD!”
“Yeah, well shoutin’ about it ain’t gonna make it any warmer,” Bobby huffed in response.
Dean shivered, tucking his gloved hands into his armpits in an effort to warm them. “Doesn’t mean I’m not gonna do it,” he mumbled.
“Son, Sam’s been out here hours longer than either of us so quit your complainin’.”
Dean sighed, his breath immediately fogging in the frozen air. As if he needed reminding of that little detail. As if he wasn’t worried enough already.
“Are we there yet?” he joked, trying to lighten the mood, keep his mind off of Sam. “I mean I though you were supposed to be good at this tracking thing.”
“I am,” Bobby insisted. “That’s what worries me.”
“So what? You’re saying that--”
“I’m not saying anything,” Bobby interjected. “But Dean. You and I, we can’t say out here much longer with us freezin’ to death. We’ve come a long way. If we don’t find Sam soon maybe we oughta--”
“No,” Dean interrupted, realizing what Bobby was about to suggest.
“We can call someone, Dean. Get some help...”
“I’m not just going to leave Sam out here, Bobby.”
“I care about Sam too, but Montana’s a big place. And it’s cold as a witch’s titties out here.”
“You’re the one who told me not to complain. That Sam’s been out here hours longer?”
“Yeah well I meant that--”
“That what?” Dean asked irately. “That it might have been too long? That Sam might be dead?”
“I said I wasn’t saying anything! Okay, forget I said a word, let’s just keep walkin’.”
“Maybe we should split up,” Dean suggested. “Cover more ground that way.”
“You want to die?” Bobby asked harshly. “You’re talkin’ suicide, boy. We’d sure be screwed if we split from each other. The best way to stay safe is to stick together.”
“Fine,” Dean agreed grudgingly, marching ahead of Bobby.
“We’ll just keep walking, Dean,” said Bobby from behind him. “We won’t turn back unless you want to.”
“Best idea you’ve had in--”
“Dean, stop!”
“WHAT?” Dean yelled, halting in his tracks.
“Dean, look,” Bobby said excitedly.
“I’m looking, what is it?” Dean asked in annoyance.
“There,” Bobby pointed. “Footprint.”
Dean’s eyes followed Bobby’s gloved finger to the ground in front of him where there, clearly stamped into the snow was the imprint of a shoe. His heart started beating fast. “Sam’s?”
“Think so,” said Bobby, bending down and peering at the tracks. “Sam have shoes like these?”
“Uuum...” Dean said, trying to recall. “Possibly, I don’t know. It’s gotta be Sam’s though, right?”
“Yeah, it’s gotta be.”
“So all we need to do is follow the tracks, right? And they’ll lead us to Sam like a damn breadcrumb trail.”
“Yeah, that’s generally how tracking works,” Bobby rolled his eyes.
“Awesome,” Dean said, starting ahead quickly with Bobby on his tail.
“One thing though,” Bobby added as they practically ran through Sam’s footprints. “How is it that you with your young eyes don’t notice this?”
“Shut up,” Dean called over his shoulder. He felt a smile tug at his lips.
We’re coming, Sammy. We’re coming.
- - -
They don’t find the beast when it’s sleeping, or even distracted by burning down a village. No, it’s waiting poised for them in the darkest part of the forest. It’s claws out, it’s teeth bared, it’s yellow eyes hungry.
It had transformed, grown into a building sized monstrosity with a snout that could swallow down a man whole, and great leathery wings like a bat.
“So,” the dragon said simply. “You finally found me.”
“That’s right,” Sam said, taking one step closer to the dragon and noting that the other end of the chain around his ankle was tightly locked around the dragon’s neck. “Wasn’t hard.”
“I’m not surprised,” the dragon admitted. “You always did have an eye for trouble...Sam.”
“Did I?” Sam asked.
“Yes, though I suppose you don’t remember...There are a lot of things that I could tell you, my boy.”
“Alright, well,” the rabbit interjected. “Can we just skip the monologue and get straight to the part where we kill you?”
“You’re going to kill me?” the dragon smiled. “How?”
“With um...” Sam shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “Well, its a bit of a surprise...”
The dragon laughed grandly. “I would love for you to kill me, Sam, I really would. Do you still have it in you, I wonder?”
“Do it,” the rabbit urged. “Use it now.”
“Use what?” Sam whispered.
But the rabbit didn’t have time to answer that because the dragon was laughing again. A mighty, horrible laugh. It then took a great breath and exhaled, spewing a huge gasp of fire at them. Sam ducked just in time. He pulled the rabbit away right before a second giant flame shot from the dragon’s mouth, aimed at the ground.
“You’re never gonna be okay, Sam,” the dragon taunted. “Look at you, cowering for your life.” With this the dragon released another puff of flames that nearly missed him.
Sam could feel the heat, and smell the smoke as a some of the leaves of the trees were set on fire. The forest was too wet to burn, but the dragon was giving it the old college try.
The dragon blew more and more fire at him and Sam ran like hell to dodge it, courageous thoughts of slaying the beast nearly gone from his mind.
“Oh come ON! You’re hardly even fighting back,” the dragon said as Sam ducked to avoid a breath of fire that flew over his head.
Sam straighted, staring at the dragon who was poised to take another breath. “Tell me,” he said.
“Tell you hhhhhhwhat?” the dragon replied politely.
“Tell me...everything.”
The dragon snickered, then swung it’s tail around and whipped it at Sam, knocking him to the ground. “My dear boy. Don’t you know that half the battle is not knowing? Because once you know, you certainly aren’t going to keep fighting.”
The ground hit him hard. He coughed, sputtered. His head was spinning. Sam ached. The breath had been knocked out of him, but he got to his feet. He wasn’t going to listen to the monster. There were things he needed to know. But he could only see a few select images when he really tried to strain to remember. Shreds of bloody skin, a hole in the ground, ‘To Palo Alto: one way.’
“No,” Sam said, his voice strong though he felt so bruised.
“You know what I did, Sam?” the dragon smiled with its yellow eyes shining. “What we did?”
“You think I’m like you, you’re wrong.”
“Do it then. Kill me.” The dragon blew more flames at Sam so he did what the dragon would never expect. He walked straight into the flames.
He was burning. The dragon roared, screaming at him, the flames searing from his mouth and eating at Sam’s flesh. Inside the flames the heat was so intense, it was everywhere. But there was one thing that was cold.
The dragon finally stopped for a breath and from his pocket Sam pulled out the icicle. He thought the it would surely have been melted away by the flames, but it wasn’t. It was frozen to the core, completely solid.
“Excellent!” the rabbit yelled. “Use it!”
Sam waved the icicle in front of him, feeling foolish. The dragon chuckled at him, breathing more fire but the icicle would not melt.
Still, he was beginning to feel the icicle was useless, too short to poke anywhere and too fragile to throw. But Sam brandished the icicle some more until it grew into a sword. A long, slender, silver sword fitting perfectly in Sam’s hand. Before the dragon could blow more fire Sam lunged forward with his sword, aiming for the dragon’s chest.
But his blade could not find purchase in the dragon’s thick scales and it merely bounced off. The dragon took advantage of Sam’s close vicinity and swiped at him with it’s claw, slashing Sam’s arm.
He was bleeding. Blood dripped down into the snow. Sam could barely lift his arm but he raised the sword over his head, bringing it down. Still he could not penetrate the dragon’s hide.
There was cruel, insane laughter coming from the dragon now. Sam felt so helpless. He could almost not hold onto the the sword any longer and even worse, it was changing. Becoming smaller and smoother until it was an ice white stone that fit in the palm of his hand. A lot of good that would do him.
To his surprise, the dragon looked at the stone and screamed in rage. “Doesn’t mean anything!” it yelled.
Believe in it, you gotta believe.
“You gotta make it stone number one,” Sam murmured, staring at the object in his hand. Raising his arm, the threw it as hard as he could at the dragon. “And build on it.”
The stone embedded itself into the chest of the great dragon and white fibers spread from it, infecting the area around it and then the whole body of the dragon, turning the beast into stone itself. The dragon gave one last mighty cry before it fell down with a terrible thump, its fall broken only by the piles of white snow.
“The beast is dead!” the rabbit cried. “Burn the world!”
Sam looked at the dragon, the chain was still around it’s huge stone neck, and still around his ankle. He tried to pull it off but it remained firmly.
“Hey,” he said to the rabbit. “I thought I would be freed. If I killed the dragon...”
“You think I care?” the rabbit said gleefully. “Burn the world! Burn the world!” the rabbit ran off into the forest.
“Wait!” Sam called after it, but if it heard him it did not turn around.
Sam collapsed on the ground beside the huge stone corpse. The snow was coming quickly, maybe it would cover him.
He had fought the beast and won, but he was still trapped here with it. Why did he feel like he had been in the place before?
He didn’t know how long he laid there before the Queens arrived.
They danced onto the scene, magnificent gowns floating, golden hair blowing in the breeze. They whispered.
“There it is, my Queen.”
“Yes, my Queen, I see it.”
“Are you well, my dear?” the first Queen asked, gliding over to him and helping him up from off the ground.
“You’ve saved us,” the second Queen told him. She produced two teacups and a teapot from her cape and poured herself and the other Queen a cup of tea.
“You said--you said I would be free,” Sam accused.
“Ah yes,” the first Queen agreed. “Except we failed to estimate just how much damage you’d do to yourself.”
“But you’re quite okay,” the second Queen assured him, drinking her tea.
“I’m bleeding,” Sam said miserably.
“So am I,” the first Queen shared, revealing a wound in her abdomen which stained her white dress.
“Me too,” the second Queen agreed.
“I know,” Sam stated. “It’s my fault.”
“Spilt blood, my dear, don’t cry over it.”
“I thought the expression was spilt milk...”
“Not in your case,” the first Queen replied briskly.
“I’ve also been burned,” Sam added.
“Fire is nothing to fear, my dear,” said the second Queen, brushing soot from his hair. “My life began with fire.”
“As did mine,” the first Queen nodded.
“Yes,” said Sam. “And I wish I could take that all back.”
“Some things can’t be undone,” the first Queen said sadly, looking him over. “You may be one of them.”
“Where did I go wrong?” Sam wondered.
“My dear,” the second Queen laughed laughed girlishly. “In life you will seldom be able to see points where you can say ‘yes this is the spot, this spot here is where it all went wrong.” The Queen took another small sip of tea. “However, in your life I can see a very big ‘yes this is where it went wrong.”
“More like just a big ‘yes,’” the first Queen added.
“No,” said Sam. “That wasn’t where it all went wrong. That was the best decision I ever made.”
“Then stop running from it,” the second Queen suggested pleasantly.
“You’ve had enough running, I should think,” the first Queen agreed.
Sam couldn’t argue. He felt so tired.
“This is where we leave you,” the second Queen told him as his legs collapsed from underneath him and he fell once more into the snow. He watched the two Queen glide away, whispering.
“My Queen, it is done.”
“My Queen, it is over.”
“The monster is dead.”
“The knight rests his head.”
“Sleep, my dear, sleep.”
- - -
The tracks were getting newer, fresher. Bobby had pointed this out to Dean, although he didn’t need him to. It was almost as though he could feel that Sam was somewhere nearby. His Sammy senses were tingling.
They had dressed for the weather, but the storm was still unnerving. Dean could barely stand it. He knew they had to find Sam, and soon. But they were almost there. They were almost. He could feel it so much.
So much that it was almost comical the way Dean didn’t see his brother laying in the snow at first. He was nearly covered by the white flakes, Dean could barely see anything except what he shined his flashlight on, but still Dean was surprised that he almost tripped over Sam.
“Bobby, Bobby, it’s Sam,” Dean said unnecessarily, immediately going to his knees, brushing off the snow to check for a pulse. It was there, but just barely.
Sam was ice cold to Dean’s touch as he tried to wake him. “Sam. Sammy.”
Sam’s eyes slowly opened just a little. “Dean,” he said.
Dean could have died with relief. “Dammit, Sam. I thought I lost you.”
“You did,” was Sam’s tired response.
“Dean, come on, let’s get him back,” Bobby urged. Together they got Sam to his feet though he had to lean on Dean for support.
One arm went over Dean’s shoulder’s, the other over Bobby’s, and they pulled.
- - -
Sam seemed to drift in and out as they were bringing him back to safety. He usually knew where he was but a lot of things seemed to concern him.
“No, it blew away,” Sam insisted as they pulled him into the cabin.
“Shh, Sam, it’s okay,” Dean soothed, because he didn’t know how else to respond to that. In the light of the cabin he could see that Sam was in a bad state. He skin was drained of color, there were a few blisters on his hands from the cold. His clothes were dirty, ripped, and torn, his hair wet and frozen.
Bobby went to get blankets and heat up some water while Dean helped his brother to the couch. Sam laid down stiffly.
“Am I free, Dean?” he asked.
“Yeah, Sam.” Dean put on a brave smile for his brother. “Yeah, we got you out.”
“Come on,” said Bobby, laying down a stack of blankets next to the couch. “We need to get his clothes off.”
Dean nodded. He had to focus. “Yeah.” He pulled off Sam’s jacket. “God, he’s frozen.”
“He’s gonna be okay, Dean,” Bobby assured him, pulling off Sam’s shoes and socks despite Sam’s protest of “Noooo! Chain!”
“Um, Bobby,” Dean said as pulling off Sam’s torn shirt revealed a deep set of parallel scratches in Sam’s arm. “You think something got at him?”
“Naw, looks like he did it to himself,” Bobby replied, lifting Sam’s other hand to show him. Dean took note of the blood under Sam’s fingernails and nodded.
“Right.”
“I didn’t!” Sam yelled.
“I’ll get the first aid kit,” Bobby sighed.
While Bobby was gone Dean pulled off Sam’s pants and boxers and began putting blankets over him. Sam didn’t like it. The tighter Dean tucked the blankets, the more blankets he put on, the more Sam protested.
“No! No! Don’t make me! No! Not the monster. Not a caterpillar.”
“Sam, you’re not making sense,” Dean pleaded, clutching Sam’s frozen hand in his, in an attempt to unthaw his brother.
“Dean,” Sam said urgently, his eyes wide. “I’m burning.”
Dean shook his head. “That’s just the frostbite, stupid.”
Bobby returned with the first aid kit and Dean carefully cleaned Sam’s wounds before piling more blankets on top of him.
“It’s a cocoon,” Sam insisted desperately.
“That’s right, Sam,” Dean agreed, complacently as he tried to make Sam drink the hot tea from the mug he was holding.
“You’re a queen,” Sam told him.
“Thanks, Sammy,” Dean smiled, wishing this was an appropriate time to tease his brother about the stupid stuff he was saying.
“No,” Sam shook his head. “No, you’re not. And I am not a dragon.”