Untitled #25 (Gen, PG)
Title: Untitled #25
Rating: PG
Category: Gen oneshot
Word Count: 2040
Characters: Sam and Dean
Spoilers: None
Summary: Sam's returned from Stanford, Jess died five months ago, and Dad is missing. But, other than that, some things never change.
Author’s Notes: From here. For ongiara who asked for something set somewhere in the time frame of season 1 till early season 3 that has the boys butting heads while still trying to get used to being on the road together again, that has angst and some fancy martial arts moves and that is going to actually scare me. As in creepy (like mythology-wise or ghost or zombie or monster creepy). (The whole package or in parts.)
Disclaimer: The following characters and situations are used without permission of the creators, owners, and further affiliates of the television show, Supernatural, to whom they rightly belong. I claim only what is mine, and I make no money off what is theirs.
- - - - -
"I think we've got a case."
Across the table, Dean looked up, mouth full, and said, "Yeah?"
Sam glanced up just long enough to see the mashed up ball of what used to be a hamburger in Dean's mouth before he sighed and flicked his eyes back to the newspaper. "Yeah. Down south, near the border, there have been a strange number of deaths recently."
"It's hot down there. People die in heat."
"No, no, I think it's something different. I've got this feeling..."
Dean swallowed and shook his head. "If that's all you've got is just a 'feeling,' Sam, then I say no.” He pulled a wad of napkins from the dispenser in the middle of the restaurant table and proceeded to wipe his hands. “You can't trust your gut sometimes--especially when you've been out of this as long as you have been. I say we should be going after Dad."
"Like we have any clue where he is," Sam grumbled, turning a page in the newspaper rather than make eye contact with Dean. It'd been a little over five months since Jess's death and Sam’s departure from Stanford, but Dean still treated Sam like he'd just returned to hunting yesterday. It was a daily fight resisting the urge to remind Dean that, yes, he remembered everything there was to know about hunting and Dean should stop treating him like he was still four years old.
"Better than the bunch of people who wandered off into the desert and got lost story you're going for," Dean said.
"I don't know. Lots of accounts of dead plants, shattered rocks, animal deaths...pretty weird stuff to be happening in the same area with the deaths."
Dean snorted and wadded up his burger wrapper and used napkins. "Fine. Rock, paper, scissors, then." He held out his hands, one in a fist sitting on top of the other opened palm.
Sam rolled his eyes. Some things never died. But, at least this was one thing Dean wouldn't argue with and one thing Sam could win.
So, one, two, three, and yup, always with the scissors, Dean, always with the scissors.
Some things never changed no matter how long you were gone.
- - - - -
Down south, in a town not far from the Mexican border, they met with one of the local police who at first claimed there was foul play involved in the deaths of six townspeople. However, as Sam continued talking--Dean being too ornery in the heat to attempt any suaveness with the officer--the cop eventually admitted there was something odd about the cases.
"Odd?" Sam said, flicking glancing over to Dean. "Odd how?"
"All died too similarly. Out in barns or abandoned buildings. All of 'em died with their eyes wide opened--like they were scared or somethin'." The officer reached up and scratched underneath his hat. "Bunch of dead plants around the buildings too."
"Dead?" Sam echoed.
"Yeah. All black and shriveled up. Looked like somebody poisoned them, but we've sent them down to the lab for testing and nobody can make heads or tails of it."
"And these dead plants, they were at all the murder sites?"
The officer nodded. "Every single one. Something odd, I tell ya. You'd think these people were being poisoned, but we can't find anything."
"What's the cause of death?" Dean asked.
"Not sure. Doc's leaning towards heart failure, but you can't have six people die the same way all because of heart failure. Something's just not right." The officer shook his head. "Just not right."
- - - - -
Too many interviews and too much research later, they were back in the motel when Sam said, "I think I know what we're dealing with."
Dean looked up from where he was sitting on the bed, fat book on his lap and sweat on his face. "And?"
"I think--but hopefully I'm wrong--I think we've got ourselves a basilisk."
"A basilisk?" Dean echoed, eyebrows raised skeptically. "C'mon, those things are just old mythology.” He chuckled. “Like unicorns."
"Yeah? And those bugs we nearly got killed by a few weeks ago over in Oklahoma? Those were just coming off an old Native American myths about cursed land, but they sure seemed real enough. And, besides, we’ve seen crazier shit than that and you know it."
Dean rolled his eyes and closed the book on his lap. "Basilisks, huh? Isn't it like a big, ugly snake of some sort?"
"Yeah. Um, it's said to be the 'king of snakes.' There are a few different stories here, but they have the power to kill plants and break rocks with their breath. It's said that if you look directly at it, you'll die."
"Great," Dean grumbled. "We're dealing with a killer snake. A very killer snake." He wiped a hand over his face. "How do we stop it?"
"Well, basically, I think we've got to hold a mirror up to it. Looking at itself should kill it."
"But we can't look at it to do this."
"No. Otherwise, we'll die too."
Dean groaned. "Snakes, man. Why couldn't it just be a simple salt and burn?" He swore and flopped back on the bed, arm coming up to cover his eyes while Sam returned his attention to the research.
- - - - -
It was sunset when they left the motel, cool enough that they could do their job without heat exhaustion sinking in and light enough that they could see well enough to do said job. With Sam's research, they'd gotten a fairly good idea of where the basilisk was located, based on the places of recent deaths. Too, since the deaths occurred at night, Sam reasoned that the basilisk would be leaving its home at night and that was when they could place the mirror in front of it den to kill it.
"I still say this is a crappy idea," Dean grumbled as they trekked across the field behind a cluster of homes.
"But if we don't do anything about it, more innocent people are going to die," Sam pointed out. His mind flicked over to Jess who had died far too early and far too innocent with no idea what had happened until it was too late.
"Yeah, well? We could die, Sammy. Think about that."
Sam sighed. He thought about saying something back to Dean, like at least they knew what they were getting themselves into and they would be fine so long as they stayed out while it was still light out. But, he decided against it. Dean was already on edge because of the case and having Sam poke at him wouldn't help matters any.
They eventually split up as the sky began to grow darker with the reasoning being that they could cover more area that way. The field wasn't especially big, but if they didn't find the basilisk tonight, then it was likely that someone else would die.
Sam suddenly stopped where he was walking as he spotted a hole in the side of a sloping hill surrounded by dead plants and rock fragments. This had to be the basilisk's home.
Cautiously, he crept forward, holding the mirror in front of him and keeping his eyes on his feet. He didn't dare to look ahead any farther, fearing that the basilisk would come sneaking out of its home.
He stopped in front of the hole and placed the mirror right outside. The basilisk would see itself and die just as it was leaving to go and kill someone else. The plan seemed perfect.
Perfect, of course, until Sam felt something cool brush against the back of his pantleg. He swallowed and lifted his eyes up to the sky. There was a soft hissing sound, and a long body curled around his ankle.
Although he couldn't look at it, he knew it had to be the basilisk. The stupid thing was out before sundown, dammit.
His heart leapt into his throat immediately, beating madly. He couldn't look at the snake or else he would die, but he somehow had to pick his mirror back up from the ground. Yet, if the basilisk breathed directly onto his skin, he'd be harmed that way. He couldn't touch it either to get it off him because, again, skin contact. It probably wouldn't be deadly, but most likely, it'd be painful if the ruined plants and rocks were any indication of what happened.
The basilisk made a noise that almost sounded like a chuckle as it wrapped itself around Sam's ankle and began to slither up his leg. Sam swallowed, throat tight. A giant snake was working its way up his body. Not just any snake either, but one that would kill him if he so much as looked at it. He had to get that mirror somehow. Get the mirror while keeping his eyes up to the sky.
Slowly, he started to crouch down, and the basilisk, feeling Sam's muscles move, tightened itself on his leg to stop him.
"Sam!" Dean suddenly called out from behind him. "Don't move!"
"Dean! Don't get too close! It's on me!"
"Yeah, I know!"
How was Dean going to help him if Dean couldn't look at the basilisk? There didn't seem to be a winning solution to this mess. Sam's heart continued to beat faster as the basilisk slithered higher up him, its coils wrapping around his waist. Even though Sam chided himself for thinking as such, he couldn't shake the thought that either he or Dean was going to die on this hunt.
"Dean..." Sam began, unable to stop the waver in his voice. He was already regretting his choice to bring them on this crazy hunt. They should have gone after Dad. At least going after Dad wouldn't have ended up with them getting killed in the middle of a desert by a monstrous snake.
Suddenly, though, right when Sam was about to say he was sorry for running off to Stanford and everything else he had ever done to hurt Dean, the basilisk screamed. It tightened around Sam, squeezing the air out of him, before relaxing and dropping away. Then, the basilisk screamed again and exploded into a gooey mess all over Sam's pants and feet.
"Is it dead?" Dean called from behind Sam.
"I...I think so," Sam answered. Tentatively, with his eyes still turned upward, he poked his foot out, kicking the soft corpse in front of him. When there was no movement from the body, he swallowed and dared himself to look downward. A splattered mess of blood and guts and shiny snake skin was on the ground.
"Yeah," Sam breathed, "it's gone."
Dean came up beside him, mirror in hand. He looked down at what remained of the basilisk and exhaled. "Fucking snakes, man. God." He gave a lazy kick to the mess and shuddered. "Gross." Then after a beat, he looked over to Sam. "You all right?"
"Yeah," Sam said with a nod. "Yeah, I'll be okay." He wiped a trembling hand over his face where a few splatters of blood had hit. "How...how'd you know it was on me? You couldn't have seen it or else you would've died."
"No. I was looking around and saw you freeze up like you used to do when you got really scared as a kid." Dean shrugged. "So, I kinda figured something was up."
Sam smiled. Dean, always the big brother. "Thanks."
"Sure, no problem." Dean looked down at Sam's pants, which were covered in blood and slime. "I'm guessing you're going to want to get those cleaned up, huh?"
"Yeah, I'm thinking so. At least before somebody sees me and wonders what the hell I did to myself."
Dean slapped him on the shoulder. "All right, c'mon. But," he said, as Sam walked with him away from the field, "you get any of that shit inside my car? Oh man." Dean shook his head. "You'll be in trouble." He glanced over at Sam and, almost as an after-thought, he added, "Jerk."
Sam grinned. He knew the lines to this one. "Bitch."
After all, some things never changed no matter how long you were gone.
End
Rating: PG
Category: Gen oneshot
Word Count: 2040
Characters: Sam and Dean
Spoilers: None
Summary: Sam's returned from Stanford, Jess died five months ago, and Dad is missing. But, other than that, some things never change.
Author’s Notes: From here. For ongiara who asked for something set somewhere in the time frame of season 1 till early season 3 that has the boys butting heads while still trying to get used to being on the road together again, that has angst and some fancy martial arts moves and that is going to actually scare me. As in creepy (like mythology-wise or ghost or zombie or monster creepy). (The whole package or in parts.)
Disclaimer: The following characters and situations are used without permission of the creators, owners, and further affiliates of the television show, Supernatural, to whom they rightly belong. I claim only what is mine, and I make no money off what is theirs.
- - - - -
"I think we've got a case."
Across the table, Dean looked up, mouth full, and said, "Yeah?"
Sam glanced up just long enough to see the mashed up ball of what used to be a hamburger in Dean's mouth before he sighed and flicked his eyes back to the newspaper. "Yeah. Down south, near the border, there have been a strange number of deaths recently."
"It's hot down there. People die in heat."
"No, no, I think it's something different. I've got this feeling..."
Dean swallowed and shook his head. "If that's all you've got is just a 'feeling,' Sam, then I say no.” He pulled a wad of napkins from the dispenser in the middle of the restaurant table and proceeded to wipe his hands. “You can't trust your gut sometimes--especially when you've been out of this as long as you have been. I say we should be going after Dad."
"Like we have any clue where he is," Sam grumbled, turning a page in the newspaper rather than make eye contact with Dean. It'd been a little over five months since Jess's death and Sam’s departure from Stanford, but Dean still treated Sam like he'd just returned to hunting yesterday. It was a daily fight resisting the urge to remind Dean that, yes, he remembered everything there was to know about hunting and Dean should stop treating him like he was still four years old.
"Better than the bunch of people who wandered off into the desert and got lost story you're going for," Dean said.
"I don't know. Lots of accounts of dead plants, shattered rocks, animal deaths...pretty weird stuff to be happening in the same area with the deaths."
Dean snorted and wadded up his burger wrapper and used napkins. "Fine. Rock, paper, scissors, then." He held out his hands, one in a fist sitting on top of the other opened palm.
Sam rolled his eyes. Some things never died. But, at least this was one thing Dean wouldn't argue with and one thing Sam could win.
So, one, two, three, and yup, always with the scissors, Dean, always with the scissors.
Some things never changed no matter how long you were gone.
- - - - -
Down south, in a town not far from the Mexican border, they met with one of the local police who at first claimed there was foul play involved in the deaths of six townspeople. However, as Sam continued talking--Dean being too ornery in the heat to attempt any suaveness with the officer--the cop eventually admitted there was something odd about the cases.
"Odd?" Sam said, flicking glancing over to Dean. "Odd how?"
"All died too similarly. Out in barns or abandoned buildings. All of 'em died with their eyes wide opened--like they were scared or somethin'." The officer reached up and scratched underneath his hat. "Bunch of dead plants around the buildings too."
"Dead?" Sam echoed.
"Yeah. All black and shriveled up. Looked like somebody poisoned them, but we've sent them down to the lab for testing and nobody can make heads or tails of it."
"And these dead plants, they were at all the murder sites?"
The officer nodded. "Every single one. Something odd, I tell ya. You'd think these people were being poisoned, but we can't find anything."
"What's the cause of death?" Dean asked.
"Not sure. Doc's leaning towards heart failure, but you can't have six people die the same way all because of heart failure. Something's just not right." The officer shook his head. "Just not right."
- - - - -
Too many interviews and too much research later, they were back in the motel when Sam said, "I think I know what we're dealing with."
Dean looked up from where he was sitting on the bed, fat book on his lap and sweat on his face. "And?"
"I think--but hopefully I'm wrong--I think we've got ourselves a basilisk."
"A basilisk?" Dean echoed, eyebrows raised skeptically. "C'mon, those things are just old mythology.” He chuckled. “Like unicorns."
"Yeah? And those bugs we nearly got killed by a few weeks ago over in Oklahoma? Those were just coming off an old Native American myths about cursed land, but they sure seemed real enough. And, besides, we’ve seen crazier shit than that and you know it."
Dean rolled his eyes and closed the book on his lap. "Basilisks, huh? Isn't it like a big, ugly snake of some sort?"
"Yeah. Um, it's said to be the 'king of snakes.' There are a few different stories here, but they have the power to kill plants and break rocks with their breath. It's said that if you look directly at it, you'll die."
"Great," Dean grumbled. "We're dealing with a killer snake. A very killer snake." He wiped a hand over his face. "How do we stop it?"
"Well, basically, I think we've got to hold a mirror up to it. Looking at itself should kill it."
"But we can't look at it to do this."
"No. Otherwise, we'll die too."
Dean groaned. "Snakes, man. Why couldn't it just be a simple salt and burn?" He swore and flopped back on the bed, arm coming up to cover his eyes while Sam returned his attention to the research.
- - - - -
It was sunset when they left the motel, cool enough that they could do their job without heat exhaustion sinking in and light enough that they could see well enough to do said job. With Sam's research, they'd gotten a fairly good idea of where the basilisk was located, based on the places of recent deaths. Too, since the deaths occurred at night, Sam reasoned that the basilisk would be leaving its home at night and that was when they could place the mirror in front of it den to kill it.
"I still say this is a crappy idea," Dean grumbled as they trekked across the field behind a cluster of homes.
"But if we don't do anything about it, more innocent people are going to die," Sam pointed out. His mind flicked over to Jess who had died far too early and far too innocent with no idea what had happened until it was too late.
"Yeah, well? We could die, Sammy. Think about that."
Sam sighed. He thought about saying something back to Dean, like at least they knew what they were getting themselves into and they would be fine so long as they stayed out while it was still light out. But, he decided against it. Dean was already on edge because of the case and having Sam poke at him wouldn't help matters any.
They eventually split up as the sky began to grow darker with the reasoning being that they could cover more area that way. The field wasn't especially big, but if they didn't find the basilisk tonight, then it was likely that someone else would die.
Sam suddenly stopped where he was walking as he spotted a hole in the side of a sloping hill surrounded by dead plants and rock fragments. This had to be the basilisk's home.
Cautiously, he crept forward, holding the mirror in front of him and keeping his eyes on his feet. He didn't dare to look ahead any farther, fearing that the basilisk would come sneaking out of its home.
He stopped in front of the hole and placed the mirror right outside. The basilisk would see itself and die just as it was leaving to go and kill someone else. The plan seemed perfect.
Perfect, of course, until Sam felt something cool brush against the back of his pantleg. He swallowed and lifted his eyes up to the sky. There was a soft hissing sound, and a long body curled around his ankle.
Although he couldn't look at it, he knew it had to be the basilisk. The stupid thing was out before sundown, dammit.
His heart leapt into his throat immediately, beating madly. He couldn't look at the snake or else he would die, but he somehow had to pick his mirror back up from the ground. Yet, if the basilisk breathed directly onto his skin, he'd be harmed that way. He couldn't touch it either to get it off him because, again, skin contact. It probably wouldn't be deadly, but most likely, it'd be painful if the ruined plants and rocks were any indication of what happened.
The basilisk made a noise that almost sounded like a chuckle as it wrapped itself around Sam's ankle and began to slither up his leg. Sam swallowed, throat tight. A giant snake was working its way up his body. Not just any snake either, but one that would kill him if he so much as looked at it. He had to get that mirror somehow. Get the mirror while keeping his eyes up to the sky.
Slowly, he started to crouch down, and the basilisk, feeling Sam's muscles move, tightened itself on his leg to stop him.
"Sam!" Dean suddenly called out from behind him. "Don't move!"
"Dean! Don't get too close! It's on me!"
"Yeah, I know!"
How was Dean going to help him if Dean couldn't look at the basilisk? There didn't seem to be a winning solution to this mess. Sam's heart continued to beat faster as the basilisk slithered higher up him, its coils wrapping around his waist. Even though Sam chided himself for thinking as such, he couldn't shake the thought that either he or Dean was going to die on this hunt.
"Dean..." Sam began, unable to stop the waver in his voice. He was already regretting his choice to bring them on this crazy hunt. They should have gone after Dad. At least going after Dad wouldn't have ended up with them getting killed in the middle of a desert by a monstrous snake.
Suddenly, though, right when Sam was about to say he was sorry for running off to Stanford and everything else he had ever done to hurt Dean, the basilisk screamed. It tightened around Sam, squeezing the air out of him, before relaxing and dropping away. Then, the basilisk screamed again and exploded into a gooey mess all over Sam's pants and feet.
"Is it dead?" Dean called from behind Sam.
"I...I think so," Sam answered. Tentatively, with his eyes still turned upward, he poked his foot out, kicking the soft corpse in front of him. When there was no movement from the body, he swallowed and dared himself to look downward. A splattered mess of blood and guts and shiny snake skin was on the ground.
"Yeah," Sam breathed, "it's gone."
Dean came up beside him, mirror in hand. He looked down at what remained of the basilisk and exhaled. "Fucking snakes, man. God." He gave a lazy kick to the mess and shuddered. "Gross." Then after a beat, he looked over to Sam. "You all right?"
"Yeah," Sam said with a nod. "Yeah, I'll be okay." He wiped a trembling hand over his face where a few splatters of blood had hit. "How...how'd you know it was on me? You couldn't have seen it or else you would've died."
"No. I was looking around and saw you freeze up like you used to do when you got really scared as a kid." Dean shrugged. "So, I kinda figured something was up."
Sam smiled. Dean, always the big brother. "Thanks."
"Sure, no problem." Dean looked down at Sam's pants, which were covered in blood and slime. "I'm guessing you're going to want to get those cleaned up, huh?"
"Yeah, I'm thinking so. At least before somebody sees me and wonders what the hell I did to myself."
Dean slapped him on the shoulder. "All right, c'mon. But," he said, as Sam walked with him away from the field, "you get any of that shit inside my car? Oh man." Dean shook his head. "You'll be in trouble." He glanced over at Sam and, almost as an after-thought, he added, "Jerk."
Sam grinned. He knew the lines to this one. "Bitch."
After all, some things never changed no matter how long you were gone.
End