We're not calling it Babe 1/?
Chapter 1
"Maybe it had rabies?" Sam asked doubtfully but Dean couldn't care less. They stood over the dead body of the creature and that was it. The supposed to be gentle wood-spirit beast had killed four hikers so they had to put it down. However, the last one and a half days Sam hadn't stopped musing over the reason behind the attacks.
"It still looks like a pig." Dean nudged the dead animal in the side with his boot, just to make sure. Dead. Satisfied he clicked the safety of his gun on. It had felt good to put some bullets into the thing. Absently he rubbed over the Mark on his arm.
"Twrch Trwyth." Sam corrected him. Leave it to Sam to pronounce that one right. Dean rolled his eyes. "Or Triath as the Irish say, are portrayed as wild boars." Sam reminded him not for the first time since he had dug up the fancy name for a pig. "They are associated with the Wild Hunt. On occasion they even lead lost hikers back to civilization."
Dean sighed. Thanks to Sam he knew more about this creature than he'd ever wanted to know about a supernatural pig. Or any pig in general.
"It led us around in circles all day. Friggin' glamor." That hadn't been a surprise but it still sucked. He knew better ways to spend his day than to chase a supernatural pig through the woods. It had reminded him of Purgatory and he wasn't sure if he liked that or not.
"Because we were here to kill it." Sam waved his hand in a general manner. "And they bring luck. In some parts of Europe the pig is a lucky charm."
Dean knew that, he had to listen for hours to his brother rambling about it. "Doesn't look lucky to me. Looks more like, dunno, dead?"
Sam crouched next to the dead body and didn't bother to answer but Dean could tell what kind of face his brother was making from the way he was holding his shoulder alone. After a day of running in the woods he had the right to be bitchy, though.
"At least we can just leave it." Dean nodded to himself. "Nobody will take a closer look at a dead boar in the woods."
After the attacks the rangers had closed this part of the woods and in a few days other animals would have torn it apart anyway. Problem solved.
"Okay, let's get going." Dean tucked his gun back in his waistband and bent to get the bag with their supplies. He grimaced in pain and hoped Sam didn't see it. "I don't want to spent the night out here if I can help it."
Sniffing at the sleeve of his jacket Dean made a face. "And I need a shower I smell like pig."
"And the difference to your normal smell is …?" Sam teased without even looking in Dean's direction. How could anyone find a dead pig so fascinating? Dean shook his head.
"I tackled a pig." Dean reminded him. "A pig, Sammy. It had its tusk in places I don't want to think about." Dean straightened and tried to ease the pain in his inner thigh by rubbing it absently. Sam's attention was on the pig but Dean wasn't taking any chances that Sam wanted to have a look at his injury. There were limits, dammit. And it wasn't anything, really. Just a bruise or a torn muscle. Nothing a hot shower and a good night's sleep couldn't handle. And pain was a good way to counter the urges the Mark was filling his mind with.
Shooting the pig would subdue them for a little while, he knew that and he was grateful for the breather but on the other hand, the Mark had tasted blood now and it would want more. Soon.
A noise to Dean's left startled him out of his thoughts. Something was moving under one of the bushes. He had his gun back in his hand without even thinking. Was there more than on of these pigs around here?
Dean was ready, in more than one way, for another boar coming for him but that was not what was coming out of the bushes.
Suddenly he knew. The attacks made sense now. Dean understood.
"Ehm, Sam?" He asked his eyes not leaving the thing coming towards him. "Are you sure it's actually a boar?"
"What?" Sam was still focused on the dead thing and apparently hadn't noticed the second one coming for Dean.
"Have you seen his jewels?" Dean aimed at the creature which was making its way towards him in a painful slow hobble. It wasn't using its right hind leg.
"Dude, why would I look at his junk?" Sam finally let the body be and stepped over to Dean. "Oh."
"Yeah, oh." Dean lowered his gun. "I think we just shot Bambi's mother."
This little creature wasn't a threat.
It made whiny little noises.
Dean didn't need to be Doctor Dolittle to understand the universal call of a baby for its mother. A mother he had emptied almost an entire clip into. A mother which was laying in her own coagulating blood and was getting colder by the minute.
"She was protecting her young one." Sam understood now too. "The hikers must have gotten to close for her comfort. Look, it's limping. Maybe one of them did that. I knew it wasn't vicious."
"This sucks." Dean got his gun up again and aimed at the little creature's head. The snout twitched and the piglet looked up at Dean without any sign of fear.
It sniffed and its ears perked up and then it made that noise again. This time with something like hope mixed in with the despair.
"Dean?" Sam asked and put his hand on Dean's arm. "What are you doing?" The question was gentle but Dean sensed the fear beneath it. Fear of what the Mark was doing to him. It was always there in Sam's mind nowadays and of course it was roaring in Dean's mind as well.
"We have to kill it." Dean answered and tried to not look in its eyes while the piglet continued to hobble towards him. He wasn't sure what that would do to him. Would it spike his thirst for blood?
"It's just a piglet."
"Exactly." Why hadn't he shot it already? One bullet, it wouldn't even feel a thing. He wanted to kill it, he wanted to empty the rest of the clip into this tiny little body. The Mark on his arm was burning, flooding his body with adrenalin. "It's too young to survive on its own and it's injured. I'm doing it a favor."
Sam still had his hand on Dean's arm, gently holding it down so that the gun was pointing to the ground.
"It's not like we can drop it off at a shelter." Dean tried to reason but he knew it was a lie. He wanted to kill it. Simple as that. And at the same time he didn't want to do it. But he had to. He swallowed thickly.
These pigs were supposed to be the good spirits of the woods. Shy but friendly to humans, even helping if some dumbass managed to get lost out here. Like dolphins or something. The pig version of friggin' Flipper.
The weight of Sam's hand disappeared from his arm. With a sigh Sam turned in the other direction, leaving Dean to do what had to be done.
"This sucks." Dean repeated. He looked down at the creature who had, despite the obvious pain it was in, made its way almost all the way towards Dean by now. Its flank was covered with blood and dirt but despite the obvious pain it was in, it kept going. One hobbling step after the other.
Dean took aim."Sorry, little guy."
Two tiny feet landed on his boot and the soft snout nudged his leg. And there was this heartbreaking calling for its mother again. Trustful eyes looked up at Dean.
Chapter 2
Masterpost