Alright, just heard the story of Black aggie and thought it could be a good base of a fanfic. :) I hope you enjoy it, I really enjoy writing it. This is my first casefic ever, so honest response would be awesome :D
Sorry I haven't written for a while ! But here I am again, I hope someone missed me:D just kidding, but yeahh... hope you enjoy this (:
This is probably three-shot, and there is going to be hurtLimp!Sam and protective!Dean.. There may be a needing for a hospital, too. We'll see;)
Story of Black Aggie is copied from some website I don't remember anymore.:D
Disclaimer: Nope, don't own. ):
Warnings: None
Set: on season two, after Dean told Sam about John's last words to him.
So show me family
All the blood that I will bleed
I don't know where I belong
I don't know where I went wrong
Have you ever heard a legend of Black Aggie? In case you've not heard it, it's about a life-sized bronze statue of an grieving angel, put up by a sad man. Felix Angus, sad man of the story, placed it next to her dead wive's grave in Druid Ridge Cemetery.
The angel was a rather eerie figure by day, frozen in a moment of grief and terrible pain. But at the night it was unbelievably creepy, the shroud over its head obscuring the face until you were up close to it. There was a living air about the grieving angel, as if its arms could really reach out and grab you if you weren't careful.
It didn't take long for rumors to sweep through the town and surrounding countryside. They said that the statue - nicknamed Black Aggie - was haunted by the spirit of a mistreated wife who lay beneath her feet. The statue's eyes would glow red at the stroke of midnight, and any living person who returned the statue's gaze would instantly be struck blind.
If you sat on her lap at night, the statue would come to life and crush you to death in her dark embrace. They also said that spirits of the dead would rise from their graves on dark nights to gather around the statue at night.
Sam sighed and closed the newspaper he had in front of him. No cases to be found, but maybe it wasn't too bad. They could use a break.
"I found nothing", Sam informed and glanced at his older brother who was laying on the motel room bed looking bored.
"Yeah?"
Sam nodded and covered his mouth as he yawned. He smirked and looked at the older hunter. "Yeah. But we could use a break, Dean. We've been working non-stop for a few months now."
Dean gave Sam a little look which told Sam that he was a little surprised. "Really? I am okay with that, but I never thought I'd hear that coming from you."
Sam grinned. "Guess so", he mumbled and looked at the newspaper in front of him. "I feel like I could sleep a year."
"Go to sleep then, you've slept too little this week. I'll go grab some dinner."
Sam nodded and got up. He stretched his arms and let himself fall on his bed. Dean patted his little brother's leg as he passed him and picked the car keys. "You want some nerdy salad or what?"
Sam moaned and opened his eyes he had just closed. "I don't know. Just make sure it's something good."
"Good is on its way", Dean replied with a smirk. He began to leave and saw a glimpse of Sam from the corner of his eye. Sam always looked so relaxed and peaceful when he slept, and this time wasn't different.
Sam is always so tense, Dean thought as he sat in the Impala and pulled off of the motel yard. I shouldn't have told him what dad said to me. He doesn't sleep or eat well any more. Not a surprise, though. What would I do if dad had said something like that about me? Save Dean or kill him?
Dean shrugged. Whatever was the thing coming for Sam, Dean would stop it or kill it -both- and save Sam, he would do whatever he had to do to make sure his little brother would stay alive. Because it was his job.
After an awkward attempt to order a chicken salad with sweet onion dressing and a bacon hamburger Dean left the restaurant with chicken salad and chicken hamburger. He eyed the packet cautiously. "Don't you move, chicken", he muttered to his food and grinned. "No way in hell I am going to eat you, but you stay put. I think you would fly away if you got a chance, but believe me when I say I am watching you."
He let out a little laugh. "What am I doing? Talking to a hamburger? Sam would think I am insane." Dean froze for a moment and snorted. "Hell, I am insane." With that he sat down in his car and drove away.
"Sam, open the door", Dean yelled and kicked the door a bit. He had his hands full and couldn't open the door, and in a minute he heard a familiar steps and the door opened.
"Chicken salad?"
"Yeah. I hope you like it."
Dean walked past Sam to the kitchen. Sam looked at Dean and sighed.
"I'm not really hungry, thanks. I'll eat it later."
Dean placed the foods on the kitchen table and turned to Sam who was closing the door. Dean took support of the table and looked at Sam, eyebrows raised.
"What?" Sam asked.
"Don't you do that, Sam", Dean said with the heart-broken voice he always used if he wanted Sam to listen very, very carefully. The one he used when he really meant the words he let out.
"Do what, Dean?" Sam said and let out a breath he had been holding for a second. "Nevermind. Bobby found a case, actually, and needs us to do it."
Dean stirred and looked at Sam as he walked past Dean and grabbed his laptop. He clicked a few pages open and missed how Dean rolled his eyes in frustration. Sam was the stubbornest kid he had ever met.
"Look at this. A couple of teens ran into a ghost in an old cemetery in Pikesville and seems like it smashed one teen's ribs, causing a lot internal bleeding. His friends tried to help him but failed. He was buried yesterday."
Dean nodded and quickly read the article Sam was showing. "Alright. I guess we're going to Pikesville, Maryland then. But what about the deserved no-hunting time?"
Sam closed his laptop and shrugged. "I don't know. We'd deserve it, but that thing is killing people."
"Yeah. True. But you are going to eat that first", Dean told Sam and pointed at the salad on the table. "I paid it, you eat it. No 'but's."
Sam shook his head and looked at Dean. "I am not hungry, really, Dean. Would you stop treating me like a little kid? 'Cause it's really annoying."
It was Dean's time to shake his head. "No way, Sammy. You're not going to eat it? Fine. But don't except me to stop treating you like a child when you act like one." He rushed past his little brother to the toilet and closed the door behind him. Dean heard Sam's steps as Sam walked to his bed and started packing his stuff.
That stupid son of a bitch doesn't know his own good.. too stubborn to listen. It's probably because I told him about dad's last words. I shouldn't have.
After a little moment Sam's voice echoed behind the toilet door. "Come on, Dean. We should be going there already, would you mind coming out from there?"
Dean opened the door and stepped out. "Alright, I'm going to be the adult of this house. You do whatever you need to do, and do not eat. Because that would definitely kill you, Sam. Oh, and don't sleep, or, or... don't talk. In fact, don't do anything normal people do to survive to the next day, alright?"
Sam rolled his eye in frustration. "Don't be an asshole, Dean!"
"I'm just trying to be a good big brother here and make you, umm, how about not kill yourself to starvation? And I am being an asshole. Yeah, good one."
Sam glared at Dean and shook his head. "Doesn't matter. Let's just get going, alright? I'm going to wait in the car."
Dean watched Sam as he took his duffel and walked to the door. Dean ducked his head as Sam glanced at him, avoiding eye contact. He was pissed because he was worried. Chicken salad was still on the table, untouched.
After a couple hours of sitting in Impala in silence, Sam was really uncomfortable. Dean was pissed at him, and it was alright. It happened quite often; they were brothers, after all. But the fact that dad wanted Dean to kill him.. the other fact that it was only if Dean couldn't save him first didn't matter.
His dad knew something was coming for him, and he was too busy to tell? "Hey Sam, you are going to turn evil, just for your information", would it have been too much to ask? A truth.
You got truth rarely those days.
"I gotta take a leak", Sam said, breaking the uncomfortable silence. Dean nodded but never took his eyes off the road.
"Yeah, I have to stop for gas anyways. There's going to be a gas station in a few miles", Dean replied quietly. His voice told Sam that he wasn't as pissed as he was when they left, but he should still pick his every word carefully.
In a few minutes Dean pulled Impala to the gas station and Sam got out. "You need something from the store?" Sam asked and glanced at Dean who shook his head. Nodding Sam walked inside and headed to the bathrooms.
A typical, filthy, stinky gas station bathroom with three toilets. Sam took the last one and after he was done he leaned over the sink to wash his face. Cold water always made him feel more relaxed. As he splashed the icy water on his face he couldn't stop blaming himself. Had he been a bad son? He hadn't obeyed well, that was for sure. But he had always done what his father told him to do, even if it was after a fight. He had been stubborn, but that had saved his ass many times.
After a while Sam returned to the car. The old man behind the counter in the gas station read his new paper and never even noticed the brothers. They were done in five minutes and drove off.
"You alright?" Sam asked after a while, not wanting to feel the unspoken words of silence again.
"I am", Dean said and took a quick glance at Sam. "Tell me about the teen who died." Sam sighed and nodded, taking his laptop on his lap and opened it.
"So.. The kid was named Elliott. He was 15 years old, his grades were normal for a boy that age. His dad is police and mum a kindergarten teacher. He was normal teenager, Dean. Why were they in the cemetery in the middle of the night anyways?"
Dean shrugged. "Maybe they were having a party or something."
Younger hunter let out a little laugh. "Three boys having a party without any kind of drugs or alcohol in a cemetery. I think it's something else."
Dean snorted. "Good point. Seems like teens do nothing but drink anymore."
"How far are we?" Sam asked when the silence threatened to fall again.
"About three hours."
"Great. Wake me up when we're there."
Sam jumped when the motel room door was suddenly yanked open, but relaxed after seeing it was only Dean. He had his suit on and a matching tie.
"Hey. You found out anything?" Sam asked and eyed frustrated Dean. Older hunter shook his head.
"I barely got a hello from the kids. They are 'shocked' and seems like shock leaves you unable to speak. God.."
Sam let out a bitter laugh and turned around on his chair to see the laptop again. He heard Dean taking off his jacket and dropping it on one of the beds.
"I hope you found something", Dean said appearing next to Sam. Dean took a chair under him, preparing himself for a long explanation about their case. But no, Sam just shook his head.
"No strange deaths, no mistreated, dead people, and as far as I can tell no-one has summoned ghosts to kill, if it's even possible."
Dean sighed. "Old Winchester luck. How about we go check the cemetery? Maybe we find something."
Sam nodded and stood up. He took his suit from his duffel and disappeared to the bathroom. Dean sat on his bed, looking through his own duffel, trying to find his flask John gave him when he turned 17. After a little while he found it, filled it and took a sip. Cool whiskey slid down his throat and it felt good. He didn't remember what was the last time he had drank something alcoholic. Not after he had told Sam..
Dean mentally hit himself. He should have just kept his mouth shut as always, and Sam would still be fine. Everybody would be fine.
His dad's last words echoed in his mind over and over again. Dean.. you have to save Sam. And if you can't... you'll have to kill him. Over and over again. Kill Sam. Save Sam. Kill. Save.
How could John even think Dean could kill Sam? His little brother he had practically raised? Sam, who had seen more evil and felt more hurt than a normal would see and feel in his whole lifetime. And still he walked head up, always strong.
Dean snapped out of it when he heard the bathroom door opening. Sam stepped out, dressed in his best black suit.
"Ready?"
"Yeah."
"Where are the badges?"
"They're in the car."
After a few minutes they reached the cemetery. It was big and old, with an old, stone fence closing the cemetery. Most of the graves were beautiful, and the dates went back to 18th century. Sam looked kind of interested in there as they walked past the graves towards a little group of police men standing in circle.
"Hello. I'm agent Young, this is agent Page", Dean introduced them to the young male police.
"I didn't know they sent feds", police said. "But now when you're here.. I'm officer Wilson."
Sam shook Wilson's hand. "Can you tell us little bit about what happened? We already tried to talk to the teen boys -witnesses, but they were pretty shaken up and we got nothing useful."
Dean eyed Sam as he took his hand away and looked somehow hopeful. Wilson nodded, starting to walk towards the crime scene.
"We talked to the parents, and they all had information that all of the three boys were staying at one other friend, Daniel Smith.", Wilson started, running his left hand through his light brown hair as they stopped. "What a surprise when Daniel said he hadn't heard of it. After a strict question the youngest boy of the trio -Will- told the truth. They were planning to sleep in the woods, they had tent and sleeping bags, as well ad food and flashlights and everything they needed. They just used the shortcut which goes through this cemetery."
Dean tried to think for a rational answer. Three teens lying to their parents, planning to sleep in the woods, then taking the shortcut. Nothing seemed wrong in that, so why would a ghost attack them? As far as he knew, plenty of people visited the cemetery every day.
"Do you have any idea what could have killed the kid?" Dean asked. Wilson shook his head.
"We don't know who would do something like that. Elliott was a good kid, everybody in here knew him. He wasn't the smartest boy of the class, but he was nice to everyone, helpful and easy to like."
Sam rolled his eyes when Wilson wasn't looking at him. It was always like that, good kids died first. The ones who could really change things.
"Where did Elliott die? In this exact place?" Sam asked. If there was graved next to his death place, he could be able to narrow down his suspects.
Wilson shook his head and pointed to his left. "You see that figure over there? Our witnesses told he died there. That something grabbed him and killed him."
Sam looked to where Wilson was pointing at and saw a huge statue. "That? Gosh, I know what that is.. I just can't remember." Wilson nodded.
"Yeah. It's pretty famous, well, its lore is. Black Aggie, weeping angel? Rings any bells?"
Sam nodded, starting to walk away. "Thank you for your time, officer", he quickly said and started to walk away. Dean followed him, looking unsure. Sam knew the legend of Black Aggie, it had been first ghost story he was ever told. It had scared the crap out of him when he was little.
In the Impala Dean turned to face Sam.
"What was that?" he asked.
"You really don't remember Black Aggie?" Sam asked, sounding a little surprised. "Dean, you told me it. I didn't sleep well for weeks after it."
Dean tried to remember, but came up with nothing. He started the engine and drove off as Sam told him the legend as he knew it. After he was finished Dean looked a little bit confused.
"And how do we kill a statue?"
Sam sighed, crossing his arms, muttering he didn't have a clue. Dean smiled and looked at Sam.
"Yeah, but you know what? We'll kill it like a boss, but before it we're going to eat in a real restaurant. Warm food sounds delicious."
Sam grinned. Hunger growled in his stomach, and maybe a little bit food would do good. That's why Sam nodded, bringing a smile on Dean's face.
"Good."
To be continued...
Thanks for reading this chapter!(: reviews are love and keep me writing! :* This is my first case!fic, so honest reviews are gold.
I haven't written the next part yet, but it will come out this week. I'm pretty fast when I want to be. :D There's going to be action in the next one, hurt and limp if not even more.. I'm always open for ideas:)
~fixusi