Fic: Twelve Days 7/12 | Gen pg-13
“On the ninth day of Christmas my true love gave to me, nine ladies dancing…”
The Sugar Shack, despite the type of business it was, had been turned into a winter wonderland under the name of “Santa’s Workshop.”
Getting out of the Impala the Winchesters spotted the teenage girl up ahead climbing out of the stolen car. Dean’s eyes however, kept moving over to the entrance, where the sounds of laughter and smells of beer and alcohol met his ears and nose. Dean ignored it all, focusing only on the task at hand.
The girl was quick. She made a mad dash for the back of the building. Sam and Dean followed suit. There were no visible security officers guarding the back, and the three intruders made it undetected into building.
It was dimly lit inside, but once their eyes adjusted to the darkness, they found the girl. She had ducked into one of the private rooms, passed where paying clients were getting lap dances.
Following Devon into a vacant room, she stopped and turned to face the Winchesters. Devon shut and locked the door behind them with just a flick of her hand.
“I know you’re following me!” she shouted.
“Yeah, and then you’ll know why we can’t stop,” Dean said.
Unconsciously, she rubbed the tiny athame between her fingers.
“Just hand over the athame and this will all be over,” Sam placated.
Devon looked at Sam, an unreadable look on her face. She gently rocked back on forth on her heels, perhaps thinking of making a run for it.
At that moment, Dean’s phone began to ring. He answered it, his eyes never leaving Devon’s face.
A frantic girl was on the other end. “Dean!” she cried. “You’ve got to help! I don’t know what’s going on!”
It was Devon’s friend.
“What’s happening?” Dean asked.
“I don’t know! There’s… there’s all these people and they’re standing on the cliff ready to jump!”
“How many are there?”
He could hear the girl counting.
“I don’t know, maybe nine or ten?”
Dean shot a look over at Sam. “After the nine ladies dancing, what came next?”
“Uh, ten lords a leaping?”
Shit, Dean thought.
“Alright, listen. Just go home and we’ll try and fix this. Don’t worry.” Dean hoped he sounded more convincing than he was.
Slipping the phone back in his pocket, he tried again to get the necklace.
“Look, I know that necklace seemed like a blessing, but it’s not, it’s a curse,” Dean pleaded.
Devon watched him, tears starting to gather in the corners of her eyes. “You don’t understand!”
“Yeah I do. You were in a really bad spot, your dad just died. You were angry with everything.”
“You don’t know what that is like!” she cried. A wave of energy burst through the room with enough force to push the brothers back a few steps.
“Yeah, I do know what that’s like! My own dad - our dad - died earlier this year, and there wasn’t a damn thing I could do to save him.”
Tears started falling down her face. “But was your mother drinking and taking pills all the time?”
Sam spoke up. “No, because our mother died when my brother was four and I was six months old.”
“It’s. Not. Fair!” she stomped her foot, a blast of energy sending them sailing back into the wall.
Sam’s head made contact with the wall as Dean’s back took the brunt.
The Sugar Shack, despite the type of business it was, had been turned into a winter wonderland under the name of “Santa’s Workshop.”
Getting out of the Impala the Winchesters spotted the teenage girl up ahead climbing out of the stolen car. Dean’s eyes however, kept moving over to the entrance, where the sounds of laughter and smells of beer and alcohol met his ears and nose. Dean ignored it all, focusing only on the task at hand.
The girl was quick. She made a mad dash for the back of the building. Sam and Dean followed suit. There were no visible security officers guarding the back, and the three intruders made it undetected into building.
It was dimly lit inside, but once their eyes adjusted to the darkness, they found the girl. She had ducked into one of the private rooms, passed where paying clients were getting lap dances.
Following Devon into a vacant room, she stopped and turned to face the Winchesters. Devon shut and locked the door behind them with just a flick of her hand.
“I know you’re following me!” she shouted.
“Yeah, and then you’ll know why we can’t stop,” Dean said.
Unconsciously, she rubbed the tiny athame between her fingers.
“Just hand over the athame and this will all be over,” Sam placated.
Devon looked at Sam, an unreadable look on her face. She gently rocked back on forth on her heels, perhaps thinking of making a run for it.
At that moment, Dean’s phone began to ring. He answered it, his eyes never leaving Devon’s face.
A frantic girl was on the other end. “Dean!” she cried. “You’ve got to help! I don’t know what’s going on!”
It was Devon’s friend.
“What’s happening?” Dean asked.
“I don’t know! There’s… there’s all these people and they’re standing on the cliff ready to jump!”
“How many are there?”
He could hear the girl counting.
“I don’t know, maybe nine or ten?”
Dean shot a look over at Sam. “After the nine ladies dancing, what came next?”
“Uh, ten lords a leaping?”
Shit, Dean thought.
“Alright, listen. Just go home and we’ll try and fix this. Don’t worry.” Dean hoped he sounded more convincing than he was.
Slipping the phone back in his pocket, he tried again to get the necklace.
“Look, I know that necklace seemed like a blessing, but it’s not, it’s a curse,” Dean pleaded.
Devon watched him, tears starting to gather in the corners of her eyes. “You don’t understand!”
“Yeah I do. You were in a really bad spot, your dad just died. You were angry with everything.”
“You don’t know what that is like!” she cried. A wave of energy burst through the room with enough force to push the brothers back a few steps.
“Yeah, I do know what that’s like! My own dad - our dad - died earlier this year, and there wasn’t a damn thing I could do to save him.”
Tears started falling down her face. “But was your mother drinking and taking pills all the time?”
Sam spoke up. “No, because our mother died when my brother was four and I was six months old.”
“It’s. Not. Fair!” she stomped her foot, a blast of energy sending them sailing back into the wall.
Sam’s head made contact with the wall as Dean’s back took the brunt.