Fic: SPN (Sam/Dean): Thunder | R | 3292 words
Title: Thunder
Author: dragonspell
Fandom: SPN
Pairing: Sam/Dean
Rating: R
Warnings: Outsider!POV. Slight underage (Sam's 17).
Summary: It started with the thunder.
Word Count: 3292
A/N: Written for millaje's 2012 spnspringfling prompt.
It started with the thunder.
It rumbled and grumbled like a beast, like a dragon, like Old Rory’s combine with the broken thresher, echoing through the night. Headlights burst through the darkness, coating the outer room in a harsh glare and I followed on Daddy’s heels as he walked to the front desk. He stood to the right of the computer monitor and I hid beneath the old wooden counter in my usual spot, curling up in a corner of the open cupboard. This was how things were, how they’d always been. Daddy laughed at me and reached down to ruffle my hair. “Sure is late, isn’t it?” he asked. From my hiding spot, I could see the headlights shut off and the rumbling thunder stop. The beast had gone to sleep.
The bells above the door tinkled and I held my breath. Daddy made fun of me for it, wondering how I would ever take over the motel when I was older but I didn’t like strangers, not ones that came at night. Daddy said that when they were in the motel, they weren’t strangers but guests. “Welcome,” Daddy said as an army of boots stomped across the wooden floor boards and the door swung closed. “You boys looking for a room?” He pulled out the drawer above my head and wiggled the mouse that was inside, waking up the computer. “We’re pretty empty tonight, so you get your choice.”
“Two queens,” a man said and I heard him come closer. His voice was low and grumbling, like the growl of his car, and I hunched my shoulders against the noise. I pressed my face up to the back of the cupboard, peering through the crack at the man’s worn jeans. He must not have washed them or he’d been rolling on the ground because they had mud on them. His boots, too, looked old.
“Just passing through?” Daddy asked, making small talk. He said that he liked knowing the strangers’ stories, that it made his life more interesting. Mama called it gossiping. She said that Daddy had been born to run a motel. It was probably true. The motel had been Grandpa’s before he’d retired to Florida.
“Yep,” the man answered, his growl softening. “Me and the boys are heading up to Iron Mountain.” That was a lie. No one ever stopped in Wascota if they were going to Iron Mountain. It took too long. I was only nine and even I knew that.
“Going to go hiking,” another man added, his voice lighter and friendlier than the first’s. I could hear the smile in his voice. He stood in front of me, rattling the plastic bags of the candy display on the counter. His jeans looked older and dirtier than the first man’s.
“Pretty country,” Daddy said and that was a lie, too.
“Pretty here,” the gruff stranger replied. That wasn’t a lie. Wascota was the prettiest place on Earth.
“We like to think so.” Daddy clicked the mouse a few times. “I can put you in number three? Full kitchenette. Do you need a cot?” Just past the dirty jeans of the first man, I could make out the third stranger, a boy. He was tall but skinny, in clothes that looked a little newer and cleaner than the others’ but still old and worn. His brown jacket seemed to be swallowing him whole, eating him from the shoulders down until he turned and I could see the body underneath. He grabbed up two newspapers from the stands and came closer.
“Nah,” the second man said softly. “Sammy and me can share, can’t we?”
“It’s Sam,” the boy corrected. Though there was space in between the two other men, he stayed to the side, keeping close to the second man.
“Just the room,” the gruff man said and I heard a card slap on the counter. A plastic bag rustled. “Plus two of these.”
Keys jingled as Daddy removed them from the peg and handed them over. “Third door on the left. You and your boys have a nice night, Mr. McGillicutty.”
The second stranger grabbed the bags and the boots headed back toward the door, the bells ringing again as they exited one by one.
Daddy’s foot prodded at my side and I swatted at it before he bent down to look at me. “We’ll have to tell Mama that we have guests when she gets home.” He tapped my nose and I scowled. “Smile, Jane.” I scowled harder and he laughed.
Thunder-real thunder and not just the grumble of the stranger’s old car-had started to rumble in the distance. Before he’d put me to bed, Daddy had said that the weather man had been wrong and there must be a storm moving in. I’d stayed in bed for only a few minutes after he closed the door. Curiosity had driven me to the hidden panel in my closet.
I’d found the secret passages a long time ago, back when I was five. I remember them being bigger but maybe I’d just been smaller. I still fit, though. Grandpa once told me that the motel had originally been built as a hunting lodge but it had been remodeled in the twenties. He’d smiled slyly and put his finger along his nose. “Prohibition,” he’d said but I had no idea what that meant. I wonder if they’d added in the tunnels in the wall then. They were big enough to hide people in.
“Dean,” Sammy said and he sounded out of breath, like he’d been running. There was a low pitched whine at the end of his voice. I crawled closer, being careful not to bump the wall on my way by.
The beast they’d arrived in had rumbled to life a few minutes ago. I’d thought they’d all be gone but maybe it was just the one.
I knelt in front of the small peep hole in the corner and pressed my eye against it. If I were careful, I could pry out the boards and crawl into the room. Bags were piled against the wall and I frowned at the mound of white across the window sill. That was odd even for strangers who came in the night. Maria and Sophie would be mad if the strangers didn’t clean it up.
Sam was sitting on the bed, leaning backward with his eyes closed and one of the other men was kneeling in front of him between his legs. At first I thought that Sam was hurt because of the way his face was all scrunched up, how his back was arching, how he was clawing at the bed cover with one hand. His legs were trembling as he grabbed for the other man’s short hair. “God, Dean…” Sam whispered, shaking his head to get his hair back out of his eyes. “Dean…” I guessed from the way that Sam kept saying the name over and over again that it belonged to the other man.
Dean’s hands were on Sam’s thighs, pushing at his legs and I studied the silver ring on his finger. I didn’t know any other men that wore jewelry on their right hands. It was another thing that made the strangers seem like they were from another world. Sam gasped, still whispering Dean’s name, and then fell back against the bed, a pained whimper echoing through the room. Dean moved closer to Sam and then back, something long and wet sliding out of his mouth, hanging down in front of him. He moved away and my face went hot when I realized what they’d been doing. The boys at school talked about it all the time like they even had a clue. I hadn’t… Didn’t know… I covered my face as if that would stop me from seeing what I’d already seen.
Outside, a low rumble cut through the distant thunder and Dean groaned, wiping at his mouth. “Shit. Dad’s back.”
I scurried backward, moving quickly back through the tunnel.
Sitting on the porch, I drew my legs up to my chest and buried my face against my knees. The thunder was rumbling across the sky, louder than before, and the wind was cold but I didn’t want to go inside. Outside it was cool enough that my face didn’t feel so hot. I’d left the tunnel and slipped back into my room, climbing back into bed and pulling the covers over my head. I’d tried to sleep but all I could see in my head was Dean kneeling in front of Sam and the guilt and embarrassment kept me up.
I shouldn’t have seen that. Spying was wrong. Even I knew that. And despite how the boys at school talked, that was supposed to be private. You weren’t supposed to know things like that.
“You okay?” a voice asked and I jumped, my head jerking upward. Dean smiled at me and he was actually kind of pretty. Like movie star pretty with big green eyes and freckles and white teeth. He was the glossy cover of a magazine.
I flinched away from his eyes as embarrassment crawled across my skin again, spiders tapping on my arm. I didn’t even know that two guys could… And weren’t they…? I shrunk in on myself and Dean’s smile faltered. He squatted down beside me, his hand raised like he wanted to touch me. His leather jacket looked soft, like he’d worn it a thousand times, but too big like it wasn’t his. “You should go back inside,” he said.
“Dean, we ready?” a gruff voice asked, slowly coming up behind Dean. The voice matched the man’s face, bearded and rough. He looked like a bear.
Dean turned his head, calling over his shoulder. “Yeah, Dad. You sure this is the right place?” The thunder was really loud now, like the storm was on top of us but I couldn’t see any clouds. The night was clear for miles. Heat thunder, Daddy would have said.
“Wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t.” The man moved closer, slipping into the light of the moon, and his eyes took me by surprise. They were soft and kind and a little sad. “You’d best get inside, sweetheart.”
“Dad,” Sam said, stepping out of the darkness and into the parking lot.
“Done?” the man asked and Sam nodded and tossed him a gun. The man caught it one-handed and my eyes went wide. I scrambled backward and pushed myself to my feet, my back hitting a support post as fear pounded in my heart. This is why I didn’t like strangers that came at night. The man jerked his head toward the front door. “Inside.”
I bolted, half expecting one of them to catch me or shoot me in the back. The bells jingled and the screen door slammed behind me as I stumbled inside and rounded the corner, heading to my parents’ bedroom. I burst into the room and jumped on the bed, landing on top of Daddy because Mama was still working the night shift at the hospital. I could still hear the thunder outside. It was loud enough now that it sounded like I was standing in the middle of it.
“What the Hell?” Daddy said, jerking awake.
“They’ve got guns!” I said, the words coming so quickly that they sounded like one.
“What?” Daddy scrubbed at his face, rubbing away the sleep. “What time is it?”
“They’ve got guns!” I repeated. “The strangers!”
Daddy sat up, his big hands falling onto my shoulders. “Did you have a bad dream?”
“No, I’m not-” A dog howled and I turned my head to the window. Another one joined in, baying over the thunder and it was so loud I covered my ears, panic blooming inside my chest.
“That is some storm we’re having, huh?” Daddy said. He prodded me to the side and threw the covers off, getting up. “Sounds like the Rogers have lost their dogs again.” He snagged a pair of pants out of the laundry basket and pulled them on. “I’d better go see if they’re outside wanting to get in.” I grabbed his arm, clenching hard enough to make him hiss. I didn’t want him to go outside. “Jane? What’s wrong with you?”
“You can’t go outside,” I said. “You can’t. They’ve got guns!”
“Who?”
“The strangers!”
“Jane-”
“I’m not lying!” I hauled on his arm. “They’re-” The windows were starting to shake, the glass rattling and I couldn’t tell how many dogs were now barking. The look on Daddy’s face sent a cold chill straight to my heart. It was the first time I’d ever seen him scared.
“Stay here,” he ordered and headed towards the front door. I couldn’t let him go alone.
I came around the corner to see the room flooded with red-tinged light and Sam and Dean sitting against the wall on beside the door, their shotguns held upright like waiting soldiers. Their dad was on the other side of the room, his face grim as he watched the window. A line of white was spread in front of the door and the windows, like in the strangers’ room and I froze, looking back and forth between them, wondering if they would kill me if I ran. Dean frantically waved his hand for me to get down and I saw Daddy next to him doing the same as Sam stared at me with wide eyes. I dropped to the floor and squirmed across the boards towards my father. I just didn’t want him to be alone.
Outside, the thunder roared on, the dogs still baying like crazed hounds, and over all of it, I could hear horns. Loud horns that echoed through the night, sounding like an old time movie, like fox hunts, like Robin Hood. Shadows whisked past the screen door, moving too fast to see. Terror made my heart beat loud enough that I thought I should be able to hear it over the thunder.
A hand fumbled against mine and I followed it up to Sam’s face. He shook his head at me, long hair brushing his cheeks, and pressed a finger to my lips. His thumb wiped away the tears sliding down my skin and he gave me a nod before he leaned back against the wall, looking at the window overhead. Daddy grabbed me and pulled me close, whispering words into my hair. I couldn’t hear any of them, just feel his mouth move; I didn’t think they would have made sense even if I could have understood them. I stared at Dean, at his movie star-pretty face. He looked back, his mouth forming words, and his hands tight on his gun as he stood shoulder to shoulder with Sam. I buried my face against Daddy’s shirt.
It was horses that I was hearing. I could make that out, the sound of their hooves louder than thunder as they stampeded past the door. The hounds bayed and yipped above the horns and through it all, I could hear voices. Old, ancient voices, yelling words that I didn’t know. “Wod! Wod!” I covered my ears.
And then the thunder rumbled away, evaporating and fading into an echo that existed only in my head; the red light flickered and retreated, leaving the room in darkness. Daddy was still tense, clutching me like he never wanted to let me go, but Dean and Sam sagged against the wall. Their dad stood up, looking out the window.
“Well, son of a bitch…” Dean said. “I can’t believe that worked.” Sam frowned, his fingers tight on his shotgun.
“What the Hell was that?” Daddy whispered. His heart was beating hard in his chest. I could feel it against my palm. He tilted his head up to the window over his head and then back down to Sam and Dean.
“A hunt,” Dean said, sighing as he rested his head against the wall.
“A wild hunt,” his dad clarified. His gun clicked as he checked the bullets. He glanced up and residual terror squeezed my lungs. “Got many names. Best to think of it as a pack of spirits.”
“Spirits?” Daddy asked, getting to his feet and pulling me up too. He pushed me behind him, putting himself between me and the strangers. They were crazy but, then again, maybe I was too. “Like…ghosts?”
The man frowned and leaned his gun against the wall. “Not really.”
Dean stood, dusting off his jeans. “Ghosts are different.”
“These were gods,” Sam added quietly, still sitting down. He looked at me and then Daddy. Except for the too serious look on his face and his eyes that hinted that he’d seen more than any person should, he could have been a boy at school, a senior ready to graduate. He was normal. His dad grunted and Sam glanced at him. “Kind of. The Norse used to think that it had to do with Odin.”
“Odin,” Daddy said, his eyes flicking between the three strangers like he was trying to figure out if he believed them or not.
Dean reached a hand down to Sam and pulled him to his feet. “A little grain, some runes scribbled by Brain here and bye-bye, old dusty legend. Just stay out of their way and let them go.”
“That’s-”
“You saw it. You heard it.” Sam’s father grabbed his gun, putting it on his shoulder. “You’re safe now so what you do with it is your choice.” His eyes dropped to me and they softened. “Maybe this was just a bad dream.”
Daddy’s hand tightened on mine. “You want me to forget what just happened? If you hadn’t been here…” I flexed my fingers in Daddy’s grip, letting him know that I was still there.
“They won’t be back,” Sam said.
“Yeah.” Dean winced. “We dug up the-”
“Dean.” Dean turned towards his father and then back to us.
“-we took care of it,” he finished, eating whatever he meant to say. He smiled at us, but it was only halfway.
“Boys.” The bells jingled as Dean’s father opened the door. He nodded at both Daddy and me. “You take care now.” There was something sad about how he sad it, like he hoped it would be true but he didn’t believe it. The door banged behind him as he disappeared into the night.
“Great,” Dean said with a sigh. “Sleeping in the car again.” He clapped a hand on Sam’s shoulder. “Sorry, Sam.” He nodded to Daddy, just like his father, but followed it up with his movie star smile. It made my chest squeeze tight again, but it didn’t have anything to do with fear. I dropped my eyes to the floor and heard the bells sound on his way out.
Sam stood still for a moment, wrestling with himself and then looked at Daddy. “If you see a strange black dog wandering around, um, you…probably want to take care of it.” He tapped his shoe on the floor. “I don’t think that there’ll be one but, you know, just in case.”
The grumbling growl of the old car rumbled in the night, sounding like distant thunder, and Sam awkwardly held up his hand. “Bye,” he said and darted out the door after his brother. I heard a car door squeal and then slam. Headlights streamed toward the road and turned north, heading for the highway. Maybe for Iron Mountain.
Daddy pulled me close, silent as we listened to the thunder fade. It rumbled and grumbled like a beast, like a dragon, like the sound of knights riding out to slay the monsters in the night.
Author: dragonspell
Fandom: SPN
Pairing: Sam/Dean
Rating: R
Warnings: Outsider!POV. Slight underage (Sam's 17).
Summary: It started with the thunder.
Word Count: 3292
A/N: Written for millaje's 2012 spnspringfling prompt.
It started with the thunder.
It rumbled and grumbled like a beast, like a dragon, like Old Rory’s combine with the broken thresher, echoing through the night. Headlights burst through the darkness, coating the outer room in a harsh glare and I followed on Daddy’s heels as he walked to the front desk. He stood to the right of the computer monitor and I hid beneath the old wooden counter in my usual spot, curling up in a corner of the open cupboard. This was how things were, how they’d always been. Daddy laughed at me and reached down to ruffle my hair. “Sure is late, isn’t it?” he asked. From my hiding spot, I could see the headlights shut off and the rumbling thunder stop. The beast had gone to sleep.
The bells above the door tinkled and I held my breath. Daddy made fun of me for it, wondering how I would ever take over the motel when I was older but I didn’t like strangers, not ones that came at night. Daddy said that when they were in the motel, they weren’t strangers but guests. “Welcome,” Daddy said as an army of boots stomped across the wooden floor boards and the door swung closed. “You boys looking for a room?” He pulled out the drawer above my head and wiggled the mouse that was inside, waking up the computer. “We’re pretty empty tonight, so you get your choice.”
“Two queens,” a man said and I heard him come closer. His voice was low and grumbling, like the growl of his car, and I hunched my shoulders against the noise. I pressed my face up to the back of the cupboard, peering through the crack at the man’s worn jeans. He must not have washed them or he’d been rolling on the ground because they had mud on them. His boots, too, looked old.
“Just passing through?” Daddy asked, making small talk. He said that he liked knowing the strangers’ stories, that it made his life more interesting. Mama called it gossiping. She said that Daddy had been born to run a motel. It was probably true. The motel had been Grandpa’s before he’d retired to Florida.
“Yep,” the man answered, his growl softening. “Me and the boys are heading up to Iron Mountain.” That was a lie. No one ever stopped in Wascota if they were going to Iron Mountain. It took too long. I was only nine and even I knew that.
“Going to go hiking,” another man added, his voice lighter and friendlier than the first’s. I could hear the smile in his voice. He stood in front of me, rattling the plastic bags of the candy display on the counter. His jeans looked older and dirtier than the first man’s.
“Pretty country,” Daddy said and that was a lie, too.
“Pretty here,” the gruff stranger replied. That wasn’t a lie. Wascota was the prettiest place on Earth.
“We like to think so.” Daddy clicked the mouse a few times. “I can put you in number three? Full kitchenette. Do you need a cot?” Just past the dirty jeans of the first man, I could make out the third stranger, a boy. He was tall but skinny, in clothes that looked a little newer and cleaner than the others’ but still old and worn. His brown jacket seemed to be swallowing him whole, eating him from the shoulders down until he turned and I could see the body underneath. He grabbed up two newspapers from the stands and came closer.
“Nah,” the second man said softly. “Sammy and me can share, can’t we?”
“It’s Sam,” the boy corrected. Though there was space in between the two other men, he stayed to the side, keeping close to the second man.
“Just the room,” the gruff man said and I heard a card slap on the counter. A plastic bag rustled. “Plus two of these.”
Keys jingled as Daddy removed them from the peg and handed them over. “Third door on the left. You and your boys have a nice night, Mr. McGillicutty.”
The second stranger grabbed the bags and the boots headed back toward the door, the bells ringing again as they exited one by one.
Daddy’s foot prodded at my side and I swatted at it before he bent down to look at me. “We’ll have to tell Mama that we have guests when she gets home.” He tapped my nose and I scowled. “Smile, Jane.” I scowled harder and he laughed.
Thunder-real thunder and not just the grumble of the stranger’s old car-had started to rumble in the distance. Before he’d put me to bed, Daddy had said that the weather man had been wrong and there must be a storm moving in. I’d stayed in bed for only a few minutes after he closed the door. Curiosity had driven me to the hidden panel in my closet.
I’d found the secret passages a long time ago, back when I was five. I remember them being bigger but maybe I’d just been smaller. I still fit, though. Grandpa once told me that the motel had originally been built as a hunting lodge but it had been remodeled in the twenties. He’d smiled slyly and put his finger along his nose. “Prohibition,” he’d said but I had no idea what that meant. I wonder if they’d added in the tunnels in the wall then. They were big enough to hide people in.
“Dean,” Sammy said and he sounded out of breath, like he’d been running. There was a low pitched whine at the end of his voice. I crawled closer, being careful not to bump the wall on my way by.
The beast they’d arrived in had rumbled to life a few minutes ago. I’d thought they’d all be gone but maybe it was just the one.
I knelt in front of the small peep hole in the corner and pressed my eye against it. If I were careful, I could pry out the boards and crawl into the room. Bags were piled against the wall and I frowned at the mound of white across the window sill. That was odd even for strangers who came in the night. Maria and Sophie would be mad if the strangers didn’t clean it up.
Sam was sitting on the bed, leaning backward with his eyes closed and one of the other men was kneeling in front of him between his legs. At first I thought that Sam was hurt because of the way his face was all scrunched up, how his back was arching, how he was clawing at the bed cover with one hand. His legs were trembling as he grabbed for the other man’s short hair. “God, Dean…” Sam whispered, shaking his head to get his hair back out of his eyes. “Dean…” I guessed from the way that Sam kept saying the name over and over again that it belonged to the other man.
Dean’s hands were on Sam’s thighs, pushing at his legs and I studied the silver ring on his finger. I didn’t know any other men that wore jewelry on their right hands. It was another thing that made the strangers seem like they were from another world. Sam gasped, still whispering Dean’s name, and then fell back against the bed, a pained whimper echoing through the room. Dean moved closer to Sam and then back, something long and wet sliding out of his mouth, hanging down in front of him. He moved away and my face went hot when I realized what they’d been doing. The boys at school talked about it all the time like they even had a clue. I hadn’t… Didn’t know… I covered my face as if that would stop me from seeing what I’d already seen.
Outside, a low rumble cut through the distant thunder and Dean groaned, wiping at his mouth. “Shit. Dad’s back.”
I scurried backward, moving quickly back through the tunnel.
Sitting on the porch, I drew my legs up to my chest and buried my face against my knees. The thunder was rumbling across the sky, louder than before, and the wind was cold but I didn’t want to go inside. Outside it was cool enough that my face didn’t feel so hot. I’d left the tunnel and slipped back into my room, climbing back into bed and pulling the covers over my head. I’d tried to sleep but all I could see in my head was Dean kneeling in front of Sam and the guilt and embarrassment kept me up.
I shouldn’t have seen that. Spying was wrong. Even I knew that. And despite how the boys at school talked, that was supposed to be private. You weren’t supposed to know things like that.
“You okay?” a voice asked and I jumped, my head jerking upward. Dean smiled at me and he was actually kind of pretty. Like movie star pretty with big green eyes and freckles and white teeth. He was the glossy cover of a magazine.
I flinched away from his eyes as embarrassment crawled across my skin again, spiders tapping on my arm. I didn’t even know that two guys could… And weren’t they…? I shrunk in on myself and Dean’s smile faltered. He squatted down beside me, his hand raised like he wanted to touch me. His leather jacket looked soft, like he’d worn it a thousand times, but too big like it wasn’t his. “You should go back inside,” he said.
“Dean, we ready?” a gruff voice asked, slowly coming up behind Dean. The voice matched the man’s face, bearded and rough. He looked like a bear.
Dean turned his head, calling over his shoulder. “Yeah, Dad. You sure this is the right place?” The thunder was really loud now, like the storm was on top of us but I couldn’t see any clouds. The night was clear for miles. Heat thunder, Daddy would have said.
“Wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t.” The man moved closer, slipping into the light of the moon, and his eyes took me by surprise. They were soft and kind and a little sad. “You’d best get inside, sweetheart.”
“Dad,” Sam said, stepping out of the darkness and into the parking lot.
“Done?” the man asked and Sam nodded and tossed him a gun. The man caught it one-handed and my eyes went wide. I scrambled backward and pushed myself to my feet, my back hitting a support post as fear pounded in my heart. This is why I didn’t like strangers that came at night. The man jerked his head toward the front door. “Inside.”
I bolted, half expecting one of them to catch me or shoot me in the back. The bells jingled and the screen door slammed behind me as I stumbled inside and rounded the corner, heading to my parents’ bedroom. I burst into the room and jumped on the bed, landing on top of Daddy because Mama was still working the night shift at the hospital. I could still hear the thunder outside. It was loud enough now that it sounded like I was standing in the middle of it.
“What the Hell?” Daddy said, jerking awake.
“They’ve got guns!” I said, the words coming so quickly that they sounded like one.
“What?” Daddy scrubbed at his face, rubbing away the sleep. “What time is it?”
“They’ve got guns!” I repeated. “The strangers!”
Daddy sat up, his big hands falling onto my shoulders. “Did you have a bad dream?”
“No, I’m not-” A dog howled and I turned my head to the window. Another one joined in, baying over the thunder and it was so loud I covered my ears, panic blooming inside my chest.
“That is some storm we’re having, huh?” Daddy said. He prodded me to the side and threw the covers off, getting up. “Sounds like the Rogers have lost their dogs again.” He snagged a pair of pants out of the laundry basket and pulled them on. “I’d better go see if they’re outside wanting to get in.” I grabbed his arm, clenching hard enough to make him hiss. I didn’t want him to go outside. “Jane? What’s wrong with you?”
“You can’t go outside,” I said. “You can’t. They’ve got guns!”
“Who?”
“The strangers!”
“Jane-”
“I’m not lying!” I hauled on his arm. “They’re-” The windows were starting to shake, the glass rattling and I couldn’t tell how many dogs were now barking. The look on Daddy’s face sent a cold chill straight to my heart. It was the first time I’d ever seen him scared.
“Stay here,” he ordered and headed towards the front door. I couldn’t let him go alone.
I came around the corner to see the room flooded with red-tinged light and Sam and Dean sitting against the wall on beside the door, their shotguns held upright like waiting soldiers. Their dad was on the other side of the room, his face grim as he watched the window. A line of white was spread in front of the door and the windows, like in the strangers’ room and I froze, looking back and forth between them, wondering if they would kill me if I ran. Dean frantically waved his hand for me to get down and I saw Daddy next to him doing the same as Sam stared at me with wide eyes. I dropped to the floor and squirmed across the boards towards my father. I just didn’t want him to be alone.
Outside, the thunder roared on, the dogs still baying like crazed hounds, and over all of it, I could hear horns. Loud horns that echoed through the night, sounding like an old time movie, like fox hunts, like Robin Hood. Shadows whisked past the screen door, moving too fast to see. Terror made my heart beat loud enough that I thought I should be able to hear it over the thunder.
A hand fumbled against mine and I followed it up to Sam’s face. He shook his head at me, long hair brushing his cheeks, and pressed a finger to my lips. His thumb wiped away the tears sliding down my skin and he gave me a nod before he leaned back against the wall, looking at the window overhead. Daddy grabbed me and pulled me close, whispering words into my hair. I couldn’t hear any of them, just feel his mouth move; I didn’t think they would have made sense even if I could have understood them. I stared at Dean, at his movie star-pretty face. He looked back, his mouth forming words, and his hands tight on his gun as he stood shoulder to shoulder with Sam. I buried my face against Daddy’s shirt.
It was horses that I was hearing. I could make that out, the sound of their hooves louder than thunder as they stampeded past the door. The hounds bayed and yipped above the horns and through it all, I could hear voices. Old, ancient voices, yelling words that I didn’t know. “Wod! Wod!” I covered my ears.
And then the thunder rumbled away, evaporating and fading into an echo that existed only in my head; the red light flickered and retreated, leaving the room in darkness. Daddy was still tense, clutching me like he never wanted to let me go, but Dean and Sam sagged against the wall. Their dad stood up, looking out the window.
“Well, son of a bitch…” Dean said. “I can’t believe that worked.” Sam frowned, his fingers tight on his shotgun.
“What the Hell was that?” Daddy whispered. His heart was beating hard in his chest. I could feel it against my palm. He tilted his head up to the window over his head and then back down to Sam and Dean.
“A hunt,” Dean said, sighing as he rested his head against the wall.
“A wild hunt,” his dad clarified. His gun clicked as he checked the bullets. He glanced up and residual terror squeezed my lungs. “Got many names. Best to think of it as a pack of spirits.”
“Spirits?” Daddy asked, getting to his feet and pulling me up too. He pushed me behind him, putting himself between me and the strangers. They were crazy but, then again, maybe I was too. “Like…ghosts?”
The man frowned and leaned his gun against the wall. “Not really.”
Dean stood, dusting off his jeans. “Ghosts are different.”
“These were gods,” Sam added quietly, still sitting down. He looked at me and then Daddy. Except for the too serious look on his face and his eyes that hinted that he’d seen more than any person should, he could have been a boy at school, a senior ready to graduate. He was normal. His dad grunted and Sam glanced at him. “Kind of. The Norse used to think that it had to do with Odin.”
“Odin,” Daddy said, his eyes flicking between the three strangers like he was trying to figure out if he believed them or not.
Dean reached a hand down to Sam and pulled him to his feet. “A little grain, some runes scribbled by Brain here and bye-bye, old dusty legend. Just stay out of their way and let them go.”
“That’s-”
“You saw it. You heard it.” Sam’s father grabbed his gun, putting it on his shoulder. “You’re safe now so what you do with it is your choice.” His eyes dropped to me and they softened. “Maybe this was just a bad dream.”
Daddy’s hand tightened on mine. “You want me to forget what just happened? If you hadn’t been here…” I flexed my fingers in Daddy’s grip, letting him know that I was still there.
“They won’t be back,” Sam said.
“Yeah.” Dean winced. “We dug up the-”
“Dean.” Dean turned towards his father and then back to us.
“-we took care of it,” he finished, eating whatever he meant to say. He smiled at us, but it was only halfway.
“Boys.” The bells jingled as Dean’s father opened the door. He nodded at both Daddy and me. “You take care now.” There was something sad about how he sad it, like he hoped it would be true but he didn’t believe it. The door banged behind him as he disappeared into the night.
“Great,” Dean said with a sigh. “Sleeping in the car again.” He clapped a hand on Sam’s shoulder. “Sorry, Sam.” He nodded to Daddy, just like his father, but followed it up with his movie star smile. It made my chest squeeze tight again, but it didn’t have anything to do with fear. I dropped my eyes to the floor and heard the bells sound on his way out.
Sam stood still for a moment, wrestling with himself and then looked at Daddy. “If you see a strange black dog wandering around, um, you…probably want to take care of it.” He tapped his shoe on the floor. “I don’t think that there’ll be one but, you know, just in case.”
The grumbling growl of the old car rumbled in the night, sounding like distant thunder, and Sam awkwardly held up his hand. “Bye,” he said and darted out the door after his brother. I heard a car door squeal and then slam. Headlights streamed toward the road and turned north, heading for the highway. Maybe for Iron Mountain.
Daddy pulled me close, silent as we listened to the thunder fade. It rumbled and grumbled like a beast, like a dragon, like the sound of knights riding out to slay the monsters in the night.