Itt's a Thing, Gen, Crack, Preseries, [PG], (Happy Halloween)
Ficlet: Itt’s a Thing
Author: sandymg
Beta: borgmama1of5
Summary: Sam and Dean encounter the oddest haunting of their young lives
Spoilers: None
Wordcount: 820 - one-shot
Genre: Gen, Crack, Preseries, Teen!Chesters
Characters: Dean, Sam
Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural or any of its characters.
A/N: Written for the Changing Channels J2/SPN comment-fic meme. Prompt by dephigravity : Sam and Dean run into the Addams Family.
Itt’s a Thing
“Dean!”
“I see it.”
“Stop being cute.”
“What? You thought it, too.” Dean snorts. “Heh, you thought ‘it’.”
Sam is not amused and the hairy thing ... No, it’s freakin’ not Cousin Itt … is coming at them. “Dean. What is it?”
Dean laughs again and Sam’s face twists. What next, a disconnected hand?
Sam freezes in disbelief as five fingers on a palm that stops at the wrist promptly scamper across the floor.
This is getting really weird. Not that they don’t do weird. But. This is weird beyond normal weird.
Sam didn’t want to have to explain to their dad why they couldn’t handle this simple salt ‘n burn on their own, especially when Sam had been the one to declare that he was fifteen now and he and Dean could do this alone. No problem, Dad. Right.
“What the hell?” Dean is sounding a little less amused. “ ‘S not real. Some sort of gag.” Dean seems to have had enough and raises his shotgun.
The hairy thing … No, wait, isn’t the hand called Thing? Never mind, the walking mop seems to quiver and Sam says, “Wait, Dean, don’t.”
“Why not? You wanna wait for Lurch to show?” But Dean lowers his weapon. “Now Morticia I wouldn’t mind. Babe was hot.”
“What? You can’t honestly say you’d … “ Sam is interrupted by the walking hair ball. It shimmers and vanishes.
In its place stands a dark-haired … man?
Dean looks at Sam. “Our ghost?”
“Looks like.”
“With an Addam’s Family fan club membership?”
The spirit's eyes are a mad shade of black and Dean wastes no time aiming the shotgun and letting loose a barrage of rock salt.
The front room of the old mansion is quiet once more.
Sam looks at Dean. “Gotta be the hand. We have to find it and burn it.”
“How do you know it’s not the hair thing?”
“I don’t … I think that was just a manifestation. Spirit. But the hand, looked … “
“Like flesh.”
Sam nods, “Yeah.”
They separate and each takes a floor. Sam remains downstairs while Dean heads up. They don’t like splitting up but it’s a big house and this will be quicker. Sam’s been searching a few minutes when he hears snapping. Oh, for heaven’s sake.
The hand Thing zips by before he can do anything. “Dean! Down here.”
Sam takes off after it. It maneuvers quick, rat-like, only much more dexterous. He follows it into the kitchen and up the back stairwell. At the top of the stairs it streaks down the hall and Sam is giving good chase when something catches his peripheral vision and he stops short like a cartoon character, neck swinging wildly around to stare into the doorway he just passed.
“Vous êtes magnifiques.”
Sam thinks that pinching himself is probably a good idea.
“Plus belle que le soleil.”
The pinch doesn’t work. Because Dean is still standing in front of the black-haired temptress, repeating lines to her in French.
“Dean?”
His brother answers without turning toward him. “Yeah, Sammy?”
“Um … sorry to bother you. But. We’re kinda in the middle of a hunt.”
He enters the room and stares at … Morticia. She stops focusing on Dean to look Sam over in a way that makes him decidedly uncomfortable before she says, "Mmm … qu'avons-nous ici? Petit-vous sont délicieux.”
Sam gives Dean a slightly terrified look. “You know … I think … I think we should just go.”
Dean is staring at Morticia, eyes wide and tongue moving over his bottom lip in a way that Sam really never wants to see again. He pulls his brother’s arm. “They can keep the house. We’ll post danger signs or something outside. And the reports didn’t mention any real injuries, just some scared folks.”
A little girl appears before them, face ashen and eyes like small black holes. “Perhaps because they didn’t always find the bodies.”
Sam jumps and definitely doesn’t squeak. He whispers harshly in Dean’s ear. “We’ll come back with Dad. An’ maybe Uncle Bobby.”
The raven-haired woman reaches a long finger out to Dean. “Bubele … where are you going?”
Keeping hold of his stupidly besotted brother, Sam jerks them both down the stairs, Dean half-heartedly attempting to shake Sam off until finally they’re back outside.
Not until they are back in the Impala does Dean seem to start snapping out of it. Finally.
“Sammy?”
“You okay now?”
“I … she was teaching me … French.”
“Right. C’mon. I don’t know how we’re gonna explain to Dad why we couldn’t handle a simple haunting.”
“Simple? That was the freakin’ Addams Family. Like the most famous haunting of all time.” Dean pulls the car away from the curb. He’s quiet for several blocks. “She was hot, though.”
Sam thinks back to the octopus dress and those long fingers and gets a slimy feeling. “Ugh. I’d prefer Marilyn Munster.”
Dean gives him the world’s most incredulous look ever. “Freak.”
fin
Author: sandymg
Beta: borgmama1of5
Summary: Sam and Dean encounter the oddest haunting of their young lives
Spoilers: None
Wordcount: 820 - one-shot
Genre: Gen, Crack, Preseries, Teen!Chesters
Characters: Dean, Sam
Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural or any of its characters.
A/N: Written for the Changing Channels J2/SPN comment-fic meme. Prompt by dephigravity : Sam and Dean run into the Addams Family.
Itt’s a Thing
“Dean!”
“I see it.”
“Stop being cute.”
“What? You thought it, too.” Dean snorts. “Heh, you thought ‘it’.”
Sam is not amused and the hairy thing ... No, it’s freakin’ not Cousin Itt … is coming at them. “Dean. What is it?”
Dean laughs again and Sam’s face twists. What next, a disconnected hand?
Sam freezes in disbelief as five fingers on a palm that stops at the wrist promptly scamper across the floor.
This is getting really weird. Not that they don’t do weird. But. This is weird beyond normal weird.
Sam didn’t want to have to explain to their dad why they couldn’t handle this simple salt ‘n burn on their own, especially when Sam had been the one to declare that he was fifteen now and he and Dean could do this alone. No problem, Dad. Right.
“What the hell?” Dean is sounding a little less amused. “ ‘S not real. Some sort of gag.” Dean seems to have had enough and raises his shotgun.
The hairy thing … No, wait, isn’t the hand called Thing? Never mind, the walking mop seems to quiver and Sam says, “Wait, Dean, don’t.”
“Why not? You wanna wait for Lurch to show?” But Dean lowers his weapon. “Now Morticia I wouldn’t mind. Babe was hot.”
“What? You can’t honestly say you’d … “ Sam is interrupted by the walking hair ball. It shimmers and vanishes.
In its place stands a dark-haired … man?
Dean looks at Sam. “Our ghost?”
“Looks like.”
“With an Addam’s Family fan club membership?”
The spirit's eyes are a mad shade of black and Dean wastes no time aiming the shotgun and letting loose a barrage of rock salt.
The front room of the old mansion is quiet once more.
Sam looks at Dean. “Gotta be the hand. We have to find it and burn it.”
“How do you know it’s not the hair thing?”
“I don’t … I think that was just a manifestation. Spirit. But the hand, looked … “
“Like flesh.”
Sam nods, “Yeah.”
They separate and each takes a floor. Sam remains downstairs while Dean heads up. They don’t like splitting up but it’s a big house and this will be quicker. Sam’s been searching a few minutes when he hears snapping. Oh, for heaven’s sake.
The hand Thing zips by before he can do anything. “Dean! Down here.”
Sam takes off after it. It maneuvers quick, rat-like, only much more dexterous. He follows it into the kitchen and up the back stairwell. At the top of the stairs it streaks down the hall and Sam is giving good chase when something catches his peripheral vision and he stops short like a cartoon character, neck swinging wildly around to stare into the doorway he just passed.
“Vous êtes magnifiques.”
Sam thinks that pinching himself is probably a good idea.
“Plus belle que le soleil.”
The pinch doesn’t work. Because Dean is still standing in front of the black-haired temptress, repeating lines to her in French.
“Dean?”
His brother answers without turning toward him. “Yeah, Sammy?”
“Um … sorry to bother you. But. We’re kinda in the middle of a hunt.”
He enters the room and stares at … Morticia. She stops focusing on Dean to look Sam over in a way that makes him decidedly uncomfortable before she says, "Mmm … qu'avons-nous ici? Petit-vous sont délicieux.”
Sam gives Dean a slightly terrified look. “You know … I think … I think we should just go.”
Dean is staring at Morticia, eyes wide and tongue moving over his bottom lip in a way that Sam really never wants to see again. He pulls his brother’s arm. “They can keep the house. We’ll post danger signs or something outside. And the reports didn’t mention any real injuries, just some scared folks.”
A little girl appears before them, face ashen and eyes like small black holes. “Perhaps because they didn’t always find the bodies.”
Sam jumps and definitely doesn’t squeak. He whispers harshly in Dean’s ear. “We’ll come back with Dad. An’ maybe Uncle Bobby.”
The raven-haired woman reaches a long finger out to Dean. “Bubele … where are you going?”
Keeping hold of his stupidly besotted brother, Sam jerks them both down the stairs, Dean half-heartedly attempting to shake Sam off until finally they’re back outside.
Not until they are back in the Impala does Dean seem to start snapping out of it. Finally.
“Sammy?”
“You okay now?”
“I … she was teaching me … French.”
“Right. C’mon. I don’t know how we’re gonna explain to Dad why we couldn’t handle a simple haunting.”
“Simple? That was the freakin’ Addams Family. Like the most famous haunting of all time.” Dean pulls the car away from the curb. He’s quiet for several blocks. “She was hot, though.”
Sam thinks back to the octopus dress and those long fingers and gets a slimy feeling. “Ugh. I’d prefer Marilyn Munster.”
Dean gives him the world’s most incredulous look ever. “Freak.”
fin