Fic: Twelve Days 6/12 | Gen pg-13
Title: Twelve Days
Authors: princess_schez & mlebayre
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Someone’s been reenacting a beloved holiday song, but with a very dark twist.
Authors Notes: Set during S2. Banner by princess_schez
“On the seventh day of Christmas my true love gave to me, seven swans a swimming...”
Dusk came, and Sam and Dean found themselves facing a large frozen lake, sitting in a makeshift stadium bench that had been set up for the event. They were too cold to even care about the occasional odd glance they got as they scanned the crowd.
“Look,” Dean said, nodding to his right. Down a few rows from them was Depressed Girl and her friend. From what they could see, she was playing with the tiny athame around her neck.
“How do you propose we get that from her?” Sam asked.
Dean sighed. “No idea.”
By then the show was beginning and seven skaters made their way onto the ice, each one dressed in a frilly white skater’s dress reminiscent of a swan. The familiar music was playing over the loudspeakers. Dean looked at his watch, wondering how long the torture was going to last.
But to his horror, one of the skaters stopped and frantically pointed to something in the ice. Dean shot a glance at Sam, as the brothers scooted further in their seats to try and see what was happening. The music stopped, yet before anyone could react, the ice split into two, a large chasm of freezing water below.
Screams from the stands drowned out the screams from the skaters as one by one, they rushed to make it off the ice. Two weren’t so lucky. "Stay here. Keep an eye on the girl.' Dean ordered as he and hoards of others rushed to aid the skaters holding onto the ice floes."
They divided into groups and formed a human chain; Dean ended up on the end of one. Skidding over the ice, he was about as graceful as a deer learning to walk. The sight of him would’ve been hilarious had the situation not been so dire. Crouching down, he reached out a hand to the girl.
The girl, slowly turning blue, was barely able to hold onto the end of the mini iceberg. She was a shivering mess when Dean got his arms around her and hauled her out of the frigid water.
He swiveled around and narrowly avoided going into the water himself before handing her over to others waiting with blankets. Dean stood up and accepted a blanket. As he wiped his face he looked around the stands for Sam and Depressed Killer Girl. Dean started when her friend ran up to him.
“Are you Dean?”
“Yu-yeah,” Dean stammered, a cold rush going through him. Only half of it was from the chill in the air.
“My friend, she’s not right... there’s something seriously wrong with her.”
“No kidding,” Dean said, searching for Sam.
“Your brother said you’d help her.” She held out a piece of paper.
“What’s this?”
“Devon’s list. He said he knows how she’s doing it and that you’ll both make her stop before anyone else gets hurt. Please, don’t let anything else happen, to Devon or anyone else.”
Dean took the list. “That little sword she wears around her neck, where did she get it from?”
“She found it right after her dad killed himself. It was in with some junk donated to the church and we were sorting through the boxes. I should have said something about her taking it, but it didn’t seem valuable and it was the first time I saw her smile in weeks.”
“When did she come up with this list?” Dean asked. He was getting a queasy feeling.
“A few days later. After she started wearing that necklace she started having dreams. She said that’s how she knew what she had to do.”
“We need that necklace.”
“She never takes it off.”
“Here’s my number.” Dean pulled a card with his and Sam’s phone numbers on them. “And my brother’s. If she shows up and still has the necklace, call one of us. Do not try to do anything yourself.”
Tears welled up in the girl’s eyes. “Will Devon be okay?”
“That’s always the plan.” Dean scanned the list. There was one word written in Sam’s handwriting. “Is there a McNash dairy farm?”
“No, but there is a petting zoo with that name.”
“They got cows, or goats, or something that makes milk?” Dean asked.
She nodded. “Take Coal Road, it dead ends at the zoo.”
Dean thanked her and ran to the Impala, swearing under his breath, “Damnit, Sammy.” As he drove off, he tried Sam’s number, and twice it went straight to voice mail.
Finding McNash Petting Zoo was easy, but a large metal gate blocked his entrance.
Dean cursed again under his breath. Exiting the Impala, he rushed over to inspect the gate, trying to open it. It seemed that some unnatural force was conspiring against him; the gates wouldn’t budge.
“Screw this,” he mumbled to himself, rushing back to his car. Revving the engine of his beloved car, he put it into drive and sailed through the gates.
Sorry Baby, he thought.
The gate crumpled behind him in a forge of twisted metal. Pulling up in front of the office, there was no one there, or in house that was on the property. But most of all, no sign of Sam. He ran to the barn, pulling the door open with one hand and his gun out with the other. The first thing that hit him was the smell of blood. The second odor took him a second to work out-milk.
“Sam. Sammy!”
He heard the rubbing sound of rope swinging with a heavy weight attached to it. Panic and chills ran through Dean at the thought that the heavy weight might be his brother’s. Rounding the corner into a wide stall Dean gulped down a gasp when he nearly collided with a man swinging from a rope.
A dead man.
A dead, bald, short, fat man.
“Sam!”
There were eight milk buckets scattered around. Eight llamas were in the paddock outside the stall. A mural of Swedish girls milking cows was painted on the wall. A moan came from a brown lump in the corner that was covered with hay. One of the llamas was chewing on it.
Dean darted forward, arms out as he dodged the llama. “Shoo…scat…get the hell out of the way!” He shoved on the llama’s side. The animal gave him a dirty look but stepped to the side.
Reaching down, Dean grabbed the moaning lump of brown by the arms and hauled his brother up.
“Ooh, oww, shit.” Sam rubbed at the back of his head. “I was too late.”
“You got taken out by a little girl?”
Sam gave him a snotty look and shook his head then winced. “No, I got taken out by the pissed off spirit she’s carting around.”
“You’re just lucky Depressed Girl’s - err, Devon’s friend found me. She gave me a list of the people Devon dreamed about harming after she started wearing that necklace.”
“I’m just glad you saw my note I scribbled,” Sam said, rubbing his head. “We need to stop her before she gets to the nine ladies dancing.”
“Yeah, that won’t be pretty,” Dean mused, trying to imagine how that one was going to take place.
“By any chance, did you catch where Devon was heading to from here?” Dean asked, once they had gotten back to the Impala.
Sam thought about it, trying to remember anything before he was knocked out. “The girl, Devon, she looked… possessed. After she… actually, Father Gregory, killed that guy, she kept mumbling something about dancing -”
“Yeah, the next line of the verse,” Dean added.
Sam continued, “But what that could possibly be is anyone’s guess.”
“Or maybe not!” Dean exclaimed. Sam looked to where his brother was pointing. Up ahead was a small advertisement for The Sugar Shack, a little strip club that was located a few miles out of town on the interstate. The picture depicted nine busty ladies in various states of undress.
It was a testament to Dean’s skills as a driver that he could look at a sign of half naked women and not plow the car into a nearby tree.
“But Dean, how could a teen girl walk that far in this weather?”
Dean didn’t have an answer, but up ahead, there was a man walking towards them. He was bundled up but still appeared to be freezing.
He flagged them down.
“Excuse me,” the man said, slight agitation in his voice as Dean rolled down the driver side window, “have you seen a teenage girl pass through here by any chance? She… she just stole my car!”
Authors: princess_schez & mlebayre
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Someone’s been reenacting a beloved holiday song, but with a very dark twist.
Authors Notes: Set during S2. Banner by princess_schez
“On the seventh day of Christmas my true love gave to me, seven swans a swimming...”
Dusk came, and Sam and Dean found themselves facing a large frozen lake, sitting in a makeshift stadium bench that had been set up for the event. They were too cold to even care about the occasional odd glance they got as they scanned the crowd.
“Look,” Dean said, nodding to his right. Down a few rows from them was Depressed Girl and her friend. From what they could see, she was playing with the tiny athame around her neck.
“How do you propose we get that from her?” Sam asked.
Dean sighed. “No idea.”
By then the show was beginning and seven skaters made their way onto the ice, each one dressed in a frilly white skater’s dress reminiscent of a swan. The familiar music was playing over the loudspeakers. Dean looked at his watch, wondering how long the torture was going to last.
But to his horror, one of the skaters stopped and frantically pointed to something in the ice. Dean shot a glance at Sam, as the brothers scooted further in their seats to try and see what was happening. The music stopped, yet before anyone could react, the ice split into two, a large chasm of freezing water below.
Screams from the stands drowned out the screams from the skaters as one by one, they rushed to make it off the ice. Two weren’t so lucky. "Stay here. Keep an eye on the girl.' Dean ordered as he and hoards of others rushed to aid the skaters holding onto the ice floes."
They divided into groups and formed a human chain; Dean ended up on the end of one. Skidding over the ice, he was about as graceful as a deer learning to walk. The sight of him would’ve been hilarious had the situation not been so dire. Crouching down, he reached out a hand to the girl.
The girl, slowly turning blue, was barely able to hold onto the end of the mini iceberg. She was a shivering mess when Dean got his arms around her and hauled her out of the frigid water.
He swiveled around and narrowly avoided going into the water himself before handing her over to others waiting with blankets. Dean stood up and accepted a blanket. As he wiped his face he looked around the stands for Sam and Depressed Killer Girl. Dean started when her friend ran up to him.
“Are you Dean?”
“Yu-yeah,” Dean stammered, a cold rush going through him. Only half of it was from the chill in the air.
“My friend, she’s not right... there’s something seriously wrong with her.”
“No kidding,” Dean said, searching for Sam.
“Your brother said you’d help her.” She held out a piece of paper.
“What’s this?”
“Devon’s list. He said he knows how she’s doing it and that you’ll both make her stop before anyone else gets hurt. Please, don’t let anything else happen, to Devon or anyone else.”
Dean took the list. “That little sword she wears around her neck, where did she get it from?”
“She found it right after her dad killed himself. It was in with some junk donated to the church and we were sorting through the boxes. I should have said something about her taking it, but it didn’t seem valuable and it was the first time I saw her smile in weeks.”
“When did she come up with this list?” Dean asked. He was getting a queasy feeling.
“A few days later. After she started wearing that necklace she started having dreams. She said that’s how she knew what she had to do.”
“We need that necklace.”
“She never takes it off.”
“Here’s my number.” Dean pulled a card with his and Sam’s phone numbers on them. “And my brother’s. If she shows up and still has the necklace, call one of us. Do not try to do anything yourself.”
Tears welled up in the girl’s eyes. “Will Devon be okay?”
“That’s always the plan.” Dean scanned the list. There was one word written in Sam’s handwriting. “Is there a McNash dairy farm?”
“No, but there is a petting zoo with that name.”
“They got cows, or goats, or something that makes milk?” Dean asked.
She nodded. “Take Coal Road, it dead ends at the zoo.”
Dean thanked her and ran to the Impala, swearing under his breath, “Damnit, Sammy.” As he drove off, he tried Sam’s number, and twice it went straight to voice mail.
Finding McNash Petting Zoo was easy, but a large metal gate blocked his entrance.
Dean cursed again under his breath. Exiting the Impala, he rushed over to inspect the gate, trying to open it. It seemed that some unnatural force was conspiring against him; the gates wouldn’t budge.
“Screw this,” he mumbled to himself, rushing back to his car. Revving the engine of his beloved car, he put it into drive and sailed through the gates.
Sorry Baby, he thought.
The gate crumpled behind him in a forge of twisted metal. Pulling up in front of the office, there was no one there, or in house that was on the property. But most of all, no sign of Sam. He ran to the barn, pulling the door open with one hand and his gun out with the other. The first thing that hit him was the smell of blood. The second odor took him a second to work out-milk.
“Sam. Sammy!”
He heard the rubbing sound of rope swinging with a heavy weight attached to it. Panic and chills ran through Dean at the thought that the heavy weight might be his brother’s. Rounding the corner into a wide stall Dean gulped down a gasp when he nearly collided with a man swinging from a rope.
A dead man.
A dead, bald, short, fat man.
“Sam!”
There were eight milk buckets scattered around. Eight llamas were in the paddock outside the stall. A mural of Swedish girls milking cows was painted on the wall. A moan came from a brown lump in the corner that was covered with hay. One of the llamas was chewing on it.
Dean darted forward, arms out as he dodged the llama. “Shoo…scat…get the hell out of the way!” He shoved on the llama’s side. The animal gave him a dirty look but stepped to the side.
Reaching down, Dean grabbed the moaning lump of brown by the arms and hauled his brother up.
“Ooh, oww, shit.” Sam rubbed at the back of his head. “I was too late.”
“You got taken out by a little girl?”
Sam gave him a snotty look and shook his head then winced. “No, I got taken out by the pissed off spirit she’s carting around.”
“You’re just lucky Depressed Girl’s - err, Devon’s friend found me. She gave me a list of the people Devon dreamed about harming after she started wearing that necklace.”
“I’m just glad you saw my note I scribbled,” Sam said, rubbing his head. “We need to stop her before she gets to the nine ladies dancing.”
“Yeah, that won’t be pretty,” Dean mused, trying to imagine how that one was going to take place.
“By any chance, did you catch where Devon was heading to from here?” Dean asked, once they had gotten back to the Impala.
Sam thought about it, trying to remember anything before he was knocked out. “The girl, Devon, she looked… possessed. After she… actually, Father Gregory, killed that guy, she kept mumbling something about dancing -”
“Yeah, the next line of the verse,” Dean added.
Sam continued, “But what that could possibly be is anyone’s guess.”
“Or maybe not!” Dean exclaimed. Sam looked to where his brother was pointing. Up ahead was a small advertisement for The Sugar Shack, a little strip club that was located a few miles out of town on the interstate. The picture depicted nine busty ladies in various states of undress.
It was a testament to Dean’s skills as a driver that he could look at a sign of half naked women and not plow the car into a nearby tree.
“But Dean, how could a teen girl walk that far in this weather?”
Dean didn’t have an answer, but up ahead, there was a man walking towards them. He was bundled up but still appeared to be freezing.
He flagged them down.
“Excuse me,” the man said, slight agitation in his voice as Dean rolled down the driver side window, “have you seen a teenage girl pass through here by any chance? She… she just stole my car!”