Ah. Tis a glorious day! Tis even more a glorious day for a Supernatural one shot based around the 1829 poem, The Spider and the Fly by Mary Howitt! I do not own Supernatural, though I wish I did because I ship Sastiel so that would be canon and Mary would still be with her boys WHERE SHE BELONGS. Sorry, spoilers for season 12. Anyway! I also do not own The Spider and the Fly. They both belong to Eric Kripke and Mary Howitt and her descendents respectively. Now! ONTO THE STORY!
"Will you walk into my parlour," said the Spider to the Fly, "Tis the prettiest little parlour that ever you did spy"
Sam looked across his bed to his where his brother slept, on the one closest the door. His arm was extended towards Sam, and the younger Winchester felt guilty about that. It was probably a terribly uncomfortable position for his brother to sleep in.
"The way into my parlour is up a winding stair, and I've many curious things to show when you are there."
Sam sat up and leaned his back against the headboard. He swept his sweat soaked hair over his ears and out of his face, hazel eyes sweeping the room for something-anything-that could distract him from this craving.
"O no, no," said the little Fly, "to ask me is in vain, For who goes up your winding stair ne'er come down again,"
Dean shifted in his sleep, and Sam was afraid he would wake up. He didn't want Dean to worry about him. It had been around eight years since Sam had had a craving, that was before the Apocalypse with Ruby and their mother had just left, right after they had gotten her back. The two had set up camp in the living room of the Bunker just in case she came back.
"I'm sure you must be weary, dear, with soaring up so high; Will you rest upon my little bed?" said the Spider to the Fly.
Sam had found that Dean was a good distraction from his cravings. His older brother looked content with his dreams, a happy little smile on his face. Briefly, Sam wondered what he was dreaming about. Of course, he always wondered what people were dreaming about. Was Dean dreaming of their mom? Or of driving Baby? Or a time before Stanford, before Sam ever left? Sam often wished he hadn't left. Maybe, just maybe, this wouldn't be happening to him if he hadn't.
"There are pretty curtains drawn around; the sheets are fine and thin, And if you rest awhile I'll snugly tuck you in!"
Sam wondered where Castiel was. The angel had disappeared before the hunt with their mother, saying something about Lucifer. He wondered if Castiel enjoyed it better when Sam and Dean weren't there, he knew they could be a pain in the angel's ass. He also wondered, just for a second, if Castiel would tell what he was feeling. But that was ridiculous. He had that bond thingy with Dean, not Sam.
"O no, no," said the little Fly, "for I've often heard it said, They never, never wake again, who sleep upon your bed!"
Was it stupid for him to be missing Jess right now? It had been years, over a decade! But… he still missed her. She always knew how to make him feel better, even when she didn't know why he was crying. She would hold him against her chest and rock him slowly back and forth, carding fingers through his hair. Sam ran his fingers through his hair, trying to mimic that feeling. It didn't help with anything.
Said the cunning Spider to the Fly, "Dear friend what can I do, To prove the warm affection I've always felt for you?
It had been so long since he had had a craving, that Sam had forgotten what it felt like. He wished he knew what brought it on. Maybe if he knew, he could stop it! He could get that relief from this devilish want.
"I have within my pantry, good store of all that's nice; I'm sure you're very welcome - will you please to take a slice?"
Sam stretched his arm towards Dean's and took his big brother's hand, seeking some semblance of comfort. Dean immediately squeezed back, though he remained asleep. Sam felt that this helped.
"O no, no," said the little Fly, "kind Sir, that cannot be, I've heard what's in your pantry, and I do not wish to see!"
Why did nights like this seem to take forever? Sam briefly wished that Dean were awake, to help him. But he shook the thought of waking his brother up. For one, he didn't want to disappoint Dean like he knew he would if he woke him up. He didn't want to see the light in Dean's eyes darken again. And for two, it would be selfish. Dean deserved sleep so much more than Sam deserved relief. His older brother, his perfect older brother that could do nay wrong, deserved to rest.
"Sweet creature!" said the Spider, "you're witty and you're wise, How handsome are your gauzy wings, how brilliant are your eyes! I've a little looking-glass upon my parlour shelf, If you'll step a moment, dear, you shall behold yourself."
If Dean woke up, would he be upset? Sam didn't plan on waking Dean, but what if he did by accident? Would Dean be upset that, even after all these years, Sam still had cravings? Few and far between, yes, but still cravings.
"I thank you, gentle sir," she said, "for what you're pleased to say, And bidding you good morning now, I'll call another day."
Dean looked younger when he was asleep. True, he was in his mid-thirties, but he appeared younger in sleep. He didn't look ready to kill something-or someone-he appeared more… human. Almost as if the mistakes Dean had made-were there any? Sam asked himself-were anywhere near as bad as the ones that Sam had.
The Spider turned him round about, and went into his den, For well he knew the silly Fly would soon come back again: So he wove a subtle web, in a little corner sly, And set his table ready, to dine upon the Fly.
Sam squeezed Dean's hand when he felt a particularly bad pang of want. Dean squeezed back, his face turning concerned even in sleep. Sam's eyes swam with tears when Dean shifted how he always did when close to waking. He didn't want to disappoint Dean!
Then he came out his door again, and merrily did sing, "Come hither, hither, pretty Fly, with pearl and silver wing; Your robes are green and purple - there's a crest upon your head; Your eyes are like the diamond bright, but mine are dull as lead!"
Dean brought his free hand and rubbed it up and down his face. Sam panicked. Dean would wake up. Using his own free hand, he scrubbed harshly at his eyes, trying to stop the tears streaming out of them. Please don't wake up, he begged mentally, I don't want to disappoint you!
Alas, alas! how very soon this silly little Fly, hearing his wily, flattering words, came slowly flitting by; With buzzing wings she hung aloft, then near and nearer drew,
Dean murmured Sam's name, opening his green eyes and meeting the scared hazel ones of his baby brother. Dean immediately sat upright, clinging tighter to Sam's hand.
Thinking only of her brilliant eyes, and green and purple hue- Thinking only of her crested head- poor foolish thing! At last, Up jumped the cunning Spider, and fiercely held her fast.
Sam shook his head, avoiding Dean's eyes. Dean sent him a confused look, but pulled the younger Winchester closer, hugging him to his chest.
He dragged her up his winding stair, into his dismal den, Within his little parlour- but she ne'er came out again!
Dean carded his hands through Sam's hair, not noticing how Sam's tears wet his shirt. Dean kissed his brother's forehead, murmuring assurances to the younger man. Sam clung to Dean's shirt, not wanting his brother to ever let go. For the first time that night, the cravings went away.
And now dear little children, who may this story read, To idle, silly flattering words, I pray you ne'er give heed; Unto an evil counsellor, close heart and ear and eye, And take a lesson from this tale, of the Spider and the Fly.
Hallo! Congratulations, you made it through angst fest. By the way, the degrading way that Sam is sometimes spoken of are not my thoughts. He's my favourite brother! I promise. I hope you all liked it! I loved it! If you couldn't tell, this was set after the third (?) episode of season 12 after their mom leaves. When their mom left, in this story, it set off Sam's cravings for demon blood. 'Cause I don't care if you are God, addictions are not that easy to get over.
This is ID saying; That's All Folks!