Like Us Universe One-Shot: Happy Holloween y'all!
DISCLAIMER: All characters and plot lines of "Supernatural" belong to their respective creators. Tuscaroara and other major land features are existing parts of Nevada and belong to themselves while all characters and lay outs of such places and so on are completely fabricated by yours truly. Several different "spirits" and "gods" are based on Native American legend and creational stories, though they are also completely fictional
All spirits, gods, individual characters, horses, dogs, Celia Northwind (Red) are © to Mary C. Tripp (that's me). No stealies!
Gypsies, Jedis and BB Guns
"Nothing on Earth so beautiful as the final haul on Halloween night."
-Steve Almond
…
"Ya sure ya two don't want to go?" Elijah asked, rubbing a large hand through his Cool-Aid dyed and grease slicked hair.
"We'll be fine." Dean assured with a small smile.
"Some one has to stay behind to give the little moochers candy and keep 'em from spray paintin' the horses again." Celia shrugged, supporting her point.
"C'mon Uncle Dean!" Imogene pleaded. "When I'm thirteen I'm too old for tricks or treatin'! Ya have to come!"
Dean looked down at the twelve year old and reached out to ruffle her dark hair and soak in her costume one more time before it was destroyed by dust and the hot footing that kids did on Samhain. Dean had to admit that Imogene made a good gypsy, even with her unusually fair complexion. A green and black skirt, flowy white shirt and a child's bodice in place. Her neck and arms and ankles heavy with bangles of gold, silver and dyed metals, and scarves sewn with metal 'coins' that let everyone in the house know where Imogene was when she walk, the unceasing clinking had nearly driven them all insane for the last hour and a half.
"Sorry, 'Genie. Not this time."
She growled at him, pouting and crossing her arms tightly over her chest and stormed out of the front door with a rattle of metal against metal.
Elijah snatched a hold of a small metal bucket that had been passed down the Greer family for Holloween candy for years. He straightened the blood streaked tee shirt and jeans, bouncing after he on black and white PF Flyers.
"He doesn't look much like Chino after the knife fight, does he?" Dean muttered.
"Ya kiddin'? Eli's never even seen West Side Story." Celia scoffed.
Dean grinned and looked up as Sam thundered down the stairs, dusting himself off as best he could. Celia glanced up and wolf whistled.
"Hey sexy." She teased.
Sam flushed, growling. "Shut up."
"Make me…use the Force!" Celia broke into a fit of near hysterical laughter waving her hand in Sam's face Jedi-Mind-Trick style, Dean grinned madly.
"That's it, there's no way." Sam spat, turning on his heel and starting for the stairs.
"No! No, no, no, no." Dean grabbed Sam's arm and tugged him back gently. "Don't be a baby, you look great."
"One to talk from a man wearin' a bright orange shirt with a jack-o-lantern face on it." Celia mumbled under her breath motioning towards the offending article of clothing.
"Really?" Sam asked self-consciously and tugged at the hem of the brown road and the khaki tunic of a Jedi Knight costume.
"Yeah. Ready to save the universe." Dean assured and took the hate filled glare with a smile.
"Why did Nathaniel have this stuff anyway?" Sam whined.
"Sammy, he was obsessed, since he was a kid. Ya should see all the stupid action figures we packed away." Celia sighed, "Half his office looked like Lucas had vomited all over it, the posters and books and figurines and God knows what else that man hid in the walls and floor boards so Rosa didn't know 'bout it."
"Nathaniel was a Star Wars Freak?" Sam asked believing and still playing with the costume.
"We all got something, for him it was the Star Wars." Celia shrugged, "What ya hide from the world comforts ya. He'd loose his mind if he saw those prequels though…"
"SAM! C'mon!" Elijah hollered from the veranda. Sam sighed and looked longingly towards the door. He hated Holloween, had since childhood but t one time it looked like he could make the most of it, have a good night walking with Elijah and Imogene through Tuscarora and then heading over to the Barquest with Elijah to have a few drinks and talk with local Hunters was all damped by the costume that was the only thing that fit his tall frame in the whole of the Greer home. Celia had offered him a small sack of flour to go as a spirit but he had quickly declined.
"Wear it, Sammy." Celia assured, putting on a straight face, "Yer the only one other than Nathaniel that ever has."
That seemed to perk the younger Winchester up, he puffed his chest and threw back his head proudly. His march out the door became more of a swoop with the brown cloak flowing behind and the screen door swung shut with a bang. Dean and Celia watched their siblings head down the road towards main street and the density of town, quiet for a few seconds.
"Is Sam really the only one to wear it after Nathaniel?" Dean asked.
"Hell yes. Eli wouldn't be caught dead in that thing."
Dean and Celia dissolved into hysterical laughter before heading the kitchen to make a brew of thick coffee and file several ceramic bowls with fun size candies for trick-or-treaters and finish wrapping popcorn balls into colored Saran Wrap.
…
Dean and Celia settled into the cushions of the couch drinking coffee and chasing it with a few pale Lagers, satisfied to watch a few Holloween specials on television and eventually a few of Dean's favorite Jack Nicholson movies, including The Shining…which both of them laughed through hysterically. They took turns to lurch up from their comfortable spots when the screen door rattled and the dogs barked to announce a new visitor, word got around in a hurry that while Celia let you pick what you wanted from the bowls, Dean gave out huge handfuls of candy at a time and a popcorn ball each. Kids quickly were breaking up their groups to get the maximum they could, splitting the cache each time. The elder Winchester and the red-eyed rancher stayed blissfully unaware that they were being played by kids under the age of twelve.
"See you guys!" Dean called out the door.
"Thank you!" the group of kids whooped, a red dinosaur, a classic sheet ghost and a baby in a pumpkin costume held by her father squealed.
"Happy Holloween." The father said cheerfully, "See ya later Dean."
"Bye Calico." Dean shut the screen door and shut off the porch light, dumping the bowl on the hall table. Stretched like and overlarge cat and accepted a third cup of coffee from Celia. "That's it, I dumped the last of it on Calico's kid."
"The new baby?"
"She was a pumpkin."
"I missed it!" Celia rushed to the window to peek out and growled in frustration, only able to the see backs of the last trick-or-treat group that would get lucky at Wounded Heart Ranch.
Dean smiled and patted her shoulder.
"Maybe next time."
"She'll be two next year and it won't be cute anymore." Celia complained.
"C'mon. Let's have some fun." Dean urged, nudging her in the side and stripping off his bright orange jack-o-lantern shirt and reaching for a solid black one draped over the back of the couch. "Get the ammo."
"Alright, alright." Celia muttered and headed for the kitchen to pour her coffee into a thermos and stuffed it in the canvas sack that she and Dean had packed with their choice of the candy and food around the house, including two large brisket sandwiches, popcorn balls and peanut M&Ms. She grabbed a box of ammo, the sack and shrugged on her fleece and suede coat. Dean trotted into the kitchen in his leather jacket and a black stocking cap, slinging up two air rifles onto his shoulder and urged Celia out the door, they shut the dogs in the kitchen, making sure all the lights were out and trucked across the yard to the barn and stable. They eased silently through the dark, listening to the shifting and nickering of horses in paddocks around them and one at the time climbed up a tall ladder set against the side of the barn to the roof.
"I hate heights." Celia muttered, struggling a little and waiting nervously for Dean to get up onto the shingles with her and settle her nerves, assuring her that he wouldn't let her fall. They climbed to the top of the peak, bellied down like soldiers and loaded the air rifles.
"This is going to be awesome." Dean grinned madly, unwrapping a popcorn ball and crunching into it.
"Tradition." Celia sighed "Isn't it what holidays are all about?"
…
"Get him right in the ass, Dean." Celia urged. Dean crouched next to her on his heels and one knee, the air rifle's stock set in his shoulder and his eyes narrowed in concentration.
"Take the shot already!" Celia hissed.
"Shut up." Dean muttered, not to be rushed. A few seconds, then Dean breathed out and pulled the trigger.
The teenager poised to spray black paint across the palomino his buddy held screamed in pain as the bb pellet slammed into his right hip. Cottoneye Cloud reared up kicking at the other two teenagers, wrenched away and galloped off.
Another crack and a second bb smacked into another teen's shoulder, she went down with a wail of terror. Screaming like maniacs the group of three bolted, scrambling over the fence and tearing down the road.
"Yer sick, dude!" One of them screamed over their shoulder. "We're callin' the cops!" The voice faded as they ran out of sight.
Dean swung the bb rifle's muzzle up, stuck out his chest and looked like a picturesque hunter on the front of a Field and Stream cover.
"Nice shootin', Rex." Celia patted him on the shoulder.
"Why thank you." Dean grinned and accepted the thermos of coffee from her and downed a mouthful, enjoying the taste. "How long before they come back again?"
"Well ya nailed him in the hip, not the ass-" Celia looked considering for a few seconds. "So I'd give it 'bout three hours if they want to try again."
"They always come back, don't they?" Dean asked, settling back down onto his stomach next to her.
"Once a year, twice a night. It's a bet they have with each other. Half the kids in the high school with have a chunk of lead in 'em tomorrow."
"What do they even spray on the horses?"
"Their names."
"Well, hell, why don't you just key you name into the guy's car you just vandalized." Dean muttered.
"It's how it is, Dean. That's the dare, ya get yer name on a Greer or Lynch or Martin horse and yer set for the rest of high school out here in Tuscarora, but it has to be on Samhain."
He was quiet, watching her for a second. "You've done it haven't you?"
"Zeke Lynch's white Quarter Horse mare cerca 1998. Black paint. Drew a smiley face, too."
…
"Alright Dean, big money. Get him right in the ass this, time, not in the hip. Last shot of the night…make it count…" Celia pressed, glancing at her watch, it was well after two in the morning.
"Alright, alright…"
Dean breathed out and pulled the trigger, the pellet whizzing straight to target. A dead bulls eye on the right cheek.
"SONOFABITCH!"
Dean and Celia collapsed into hysterical laughter, almost falling off the barn roof.
"GODDAMNIT! DEAN YOU FRIGGIN' BASTARD!"
"Not sorry Sammy!" Dean called down from the roof of the barn.
Hope y'all enjoyed! I like it for what it was. Read and Review.