So, hi again! I'm trying my hand at a lighter fic, so this is the result of that. It is a tag of sorts to There Will Be Blood, though it is not essential to have watched it. Explanations of what you should know from that are provided within, which also means that I should give you all a spoiler alert to the same episode. Enjoy, and don't forget to press that lovely blue button at the bottom of the page to tell me what you think!
"I miss Baby."
"Dean, we've been over this, if we were driving the Impala we'd be found too easily!" Sam looked over at his brother, who was in the driver's seat of yet another cruddy car, the normal amount of conviction ringing in his words. But in his eyes, Dean was sure, glimmered a little bit of wistfulness.
"Stupid Leviathan." Dean grunted, glaring at the road in front of them. Always in front of them.
Today they were headed to yet another no-wheres-ville in the middle of no-where county. This unimportant location was rumored to have a human devouring monster, and that, given the present, Purgatory-unleashed crisis that plagued the world, had Winchester written all over it.
What he'd give for the good old days when they took down critters like Wendigos. Even something that stirred up a little history, like a Shtriga, would be a nice change-up. Something—anything, really, he wasn't picky—that didn't have a mind that could choose sides. He was getting sick of cooperating with enemies of enemies who were also his enemies. Their nice little dance of parallel sides, complete with black and white morals, had been replaced by an octagon of opposing positions, and uncomfortable gray colors were beginning to crawl in and suggest alliances.
"Wouldn't it be great to hunt something other than Leviathan?" He grumbled to Sam, who looked up from a newspaper clipping with an obnoxiously patronizing expression.
"…What about all those ghosts we salted and burned a few weeks ago?"
"You know what I mean! It seems like all we think about is Leviathan this, Leviathan that. It'd be nice to switch it up."
Sam paused, staring blankly at the road for a minute before turning his eyes back to Dean. "You can't exactly complain, you sort of vowed to avenge Bobby's death."
"I know that! Can't I just be a little miserly without you squashing it?" Dean glared over sourly, ignoring Sam's long-suffering sigh and allowing him to refocus on the newspaper he was reading. It would be too dark to read soon, anyways.
Deciding that this meant it was time to grab a motel room for the night, he pulled off of the highway and began scanning the nearby roads for signs that indicated the presence of a cheap place to stay. He pulled into the parking lot of the nearest one and exited the vehicle, grabbing his duffle from the back seat and tossing Sam's own backpack at him.
"Crap." A slapping sound caught his attention, and he glanced over to Sam's now dark form, practically a silhouette against the fading light.
"What?" Dean questioned, shifting the strap of his bag over his shoulder and redistributing the weight.
"Mosquito. I think I got it before it bit me, though."
"Oh, well, I wouldn't want you to get bit by a mosquito. That would be awful. I don't think you could take that." Dean replied sarcastically, still feeling grumpy and yet… enjoying it.
"Really, Dean?" The annoyed reply was followed by an "Ow!" and another slap.
"I didn't realize mosquitos were so attracted to you, Sammy. Funny, we can take down a Vampire, but these little bloodsuckers are out of our league…"
"Shut up. Ow!"
Dean started to chuckle, but was interrupted by a sting on his own neck. "Crap."
"I told you, they're really bad!"
"Ouch! What, are they swarming or something?" He was starting to feel little pelts on his face. Something landed on his lips, and he blew wildly to get it off. "Okay, I can take bugs, but this is just—nasty!" One flew into his mouth, and as he spat ferociously at the ground he broke into a jog toward the main building of the motel. He could feel Sam close behind.
He slammed the door to the lobby open, barely giving Sam the chance to enter before closing it again. Mosquitos coated his skin—at least it felt like they did—and he brushed frantically, struggling to ignore the already prevalent itch that raised red bumps across his arms and face.
"I hate this town." He mumbled, and looked over to Sam, whose face was swelling to a painful looking red mass.
"Normally I'd say to give it a chance, but this is really weird."
Dean nodded, and sauntered over to the counter where someone wearing a manager nametag labeled "Percy" sat. Poor guy. "Hi, uh, Percy? Could we have a room with two kings? And maybe mosquito nets and some Benadryl if you have it. Malaria medicine might be a good idea as well."
Empty brown eyes turned his way, and Dean suddenly noticed a large burger sitting next to the middle-aged manager. "Ah, crap, man, don't eat that! There's this nasty looking goop in the middle of it that you really don't want anywhere near your mouth."
"It's just a burger." A robotic response exited Percy's lips as he handed Dean a key.
"Yeah, but one burger turns into another burger, which turns into another burger, and before you know it you're saturated with the nasty goo that the Leviathans created!" Dean rambled, aware that nothing he was saying would permeate the thick fog that now coated the man's mind.
Sam wandered over, puffy face looking more and more uncomfortable by the minute. Dean absently wondered what his own face looked like. "Dean… I think I might know why the mosquitos are so awful here."
"Please, enlighten me, oh human tomato."
"Okay, you know how the Vampires can't drink the blood of people who have been exposed to the Leviathan goo?"
Dean paused, staring at his brother. "…The mosquitoes are allergic to the goo?"
Sam shrugged. "More ridiculous things that have happened."
"Does this mean that we're the only edible things between them and the next vegan?"
"Looks that way."
Dean twisted the key in his hand, staring out the window at the swarms of mosquitos waiting for them to exit the building.
"Stupid Leviathan."