Under the Seat
Under the seat - Dark, Dank and Sweet
or
Jared, Jensen and the Dead Girl
Author:
sgnt_caitsy
Rating: NC-17 I suppose
Warnings: A little bit of horror - not much to be warned about.
Summary: Jared and Jensen go on a haunted castle tour. They wish they hadn't
Hey all - I'm back after a long draught of internet. Long story short the internet company that hosted out connection went bust. YAY!
So I thought I might post this little stupid little something I typed up last night before I post the next chapter of Freeze Me. I hope you like it but bear in mind it's a pretty rough idea. :D
I'm also pretty bummed about not being able to go and see the J's at the All Hell Breaks Loose convention in Sydney. Stupid work. D; YES LISTEN TO ME ANGST - BLAHAHA.
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Jensen got in the car first, Jared stood close to him for as long as possible before getting into the passenger seat. They were the only ones out in the moon shined lot. Everyone else was inside eating their late night supper. It was biscuits and watered down hot chocolate - well, at least that’s what the itinerary had listed when they read it before they arrived for this godforsaken tour. They had left before any supper was served. They had to get out. Someone had died tonight, more were to follow.
Jensen flicked the key until the CD player mumbled to life. It was too quiet outside and in the quiet crept fear. They were both scared out of their minds already. He scrubbed weakly at his loosely hinged jaw. Maybe if Jensen was Dean and Jared was Sam then this would have turned out differently. Maybe she wouldn’t have died. But they weren’t and it didn’t and Sam and Dean didn’t rush in with bursting bravado and lighter fluid to burn it all away. It was just Jared and Jensen who watched a girl named Maryanne do the splits down an ancient shitter whilst forty other people sat inside and laughed about ghost stories, munching on their shitty biscuits whilst someone died. There were no writers here to script the wise cracks and easy banter between pretend alter egos, just the horrible snapping as a girl was forced down the business end of a foot wide hole. Jared cried in shotgun, Metallica groaned in ambience. The novelty was lost; horror was nigh. (tuck you in, warm within, keep you free from sin)
God, it was like they were trapped in their own alternate universe, forced to trade their own securities with the bitter realities of Sam and Dean. He knew there was something over in the bushes; he’d heard the low growl and gentle cracking of leaves and twigs. It was a Wendigo- being Dean for twelve hours a day had taught him as much. He didn’t know what was lurked under the seat though. Jensen locked his door.
“It’ll be fine Jared,” said Jensen as he clenched the muscles deep in his stomach. He didn’t know if he could stop if he started throwing up. They had to return the car tomorrow, if there even was a tomorrow, “It’ll be fine. Someone will figure it out, know what it did to Mar- they’ll kill it. They’ll kill it. Close off the place, you’ll see.”
He reached over and patted the shaking mess of Jared’s knee. If he was honest with himself he’d realise that it was his hand that made Jared’s knee quake. And if he was really honest with himself he’d realise that the car three doors down from them was covered in blood - the small pile of rubbish near the front tire not really a small pile of rubbish at all. ‘Werewolf’ whispered Jensen’s mind with stunning calm.
Jared’s hand clung onto his in return and his knee steadied. Jensen was lying, lying right through his teeth; no one would remember Maryanne - the friendly little blonde that stood two places to the right of him during the introductory scare-speech. She’d leaned over and spoken to him, “Hi, I’m Maryanne,” friendly handshake, “I’ve met your friend Jared, so I’m just working my way through the group,” warm smile, “don’t listen to what everyone says about the place. It’s all superstition. Scare tactics for tourists.” Jensen couldn’t even remember what colour her eyes were. Although he did remember the shit stained something that had pulled her down the outhouse hole not eight hours later. Her body would rot under there. No one would complain about the smell. The something would stay under there until another came along. There was something moving in his rear-view mirror. Jensen clenched his stomach again - it hurt this time. God, what colour were her eyes? Something howled in the distance.
“No it won’t be. This happens in movies Jens, this happens in the show. It’s not supposed to be fucking real but what we just... what we’re in now...” He trailed off in a wet choking sound. Jensen hoped he wasn’t dying. He didn’t know what he would do if he ended up alone. “It won’t be okay. It won’t.”
Jared was facing the window, breath steaming off the glass in irregular puffs, weeping up at the impassive moon as his world turned and shit itself. Maybe he was looking at the foggy poltergeist that had misted through the trees with an axe in its face. Jensen turned and faced through the windshield. Fiction suddenly becoming reality in the car as branches cast angular shadows across the dashboard and Jensen felt the strong urge to check the car. To go to the trunk and pull out the guns and weapons he didn’t have. God knows that he’d check under his bed every night for the rest of his life. Salt the doors and windows just like they did in the show.
“She died, Jensen. She’s dead,” Jared whispered to the glass. He sounded like a hollow log now.
“I know, Jared-“
“No! No you don’t know. She had a kid Jensen, a little girl - oh god...” Jared cried again. “She won’t ever know what happened to her mom. She won’t know.” His shoulders shook and bumped against the headrest of the chair. The chair was squeaky. “But we know, we saw. It won’t be okay. There are things out there now. Oh god, what’s happening?”
Outside a crow barked.
It was true. They’d have to live with that. They’d have to live with knowing that the last thing she felt was her back breaking in half as her little girl lay warm and drowsy in her bed, praying sleepily to God that her mother had sweet dreams. Fuck, she was a mother. Jensen gripped the door handle and pushed it out into the open air before he knew what he was doing. He threw up on the sweet smelling layer of pine needles and leaves outside whilst the crickets chirped and Jared cried. Green, her eyes were green. His throat felt raw, like he’d been the one that was crying.
The barking call of the crow came again (hush little baby don’t say a word, and never mind that noise you heard). This tour was a bad idea. Although he was sure that it wasn't the tour that had started this. Something out there was growling again. Three days ago he never would have imagined himself in this situation. He wished he was at home and he wished Jared would stop crying. It tore huge chunks in his reality. Jared never cried. He shut the door quickly and almost flinched at how loud it was.
Jensen sat acutely aware in the driver’s seat as he pushed the clutch and turned the key. The movements were more automatic then focused, adrenaline pushed fear into the passenger seat. The lights flickered on as the engine mumbled and he drove away from the other dark bodied cars with a screech of tires and gravel. The car moved across the lot and down the track furrowed road. ‘Fledgling Castle: The original home of the Bog Monster™!’ disappeared in the red hue of his parking lights. There was a long track back onto the freeway and Jared’s head knocked uncaringly against the window’s glass with each pothole. Jensen wasn’t going to cry like Jared. What was the point, really? It wasn’t going to fix Maryanne and it wasn’t going to kill whatever now lurked in the darkness. He ignored the eyes in the trees.
There was a silent car with its lights on sitting in a wide drainage ditch on the edge of the highway - the door was ajar. Two more cars, a family sedan and a jeep, echoed the same position a few yards up the road. Jensen turned quickly and sped up the bitumen, there were no people here to help. And if he did hear cries for aid he would drive anyway. 'There are things out there now' echoed in the back of his head with the same stunning clarity as the monster under the seat and the scream of the dead girl named Maryanne. Her body would rot. Just like the horrible memories in his head would not.
The crow barked again and took wing, casting moonlight shadows on the roof of their retreating car. Vampires slunk in tree root shadows and demons cast hellish light with the paths of their eyes behind them.
Maybe it would be better in the morning without the dark glare of the moon and the loud silence of the night. Maybe Eric would jump out of the shadows at any moment and call out ‘Cut’ and then maybe Jared would stop crying beside him. Maybe, just maybe.
Maybe this was the beginning of the end.