I own nothing. All mistakes are mine. Just a hunt story. Haven't written any of those in a while, so maybe this will be a nice little change. Oh and this is happening in S3.
Enjoy…
"We have our next hunt," a newspaper landed on the bed, right next to Dean's boot, "get your ass up."
"What?" he whined, not quite in the real world yet. He wiped something crunchy from his eye, almost losing the eye in the process, when in the daze of sleepiness he dug his finger in too deep.
"Hunt, now, go," Sam walked into the bathroom, washing his hands. The diner he went to, to fetch coffee was just… greasy and looked unsanitary. God, the dumps they eat in sometimes.
When he came back, Dean was still half laying, half sitting on the bed; his legs crossed at his ankles, heavy boots making a little dent into the already dented mattress. He held the newspaper in his hand, already crumpled and torn at the sides.
"Dean?" Sam stopped at the side of the bed, his hands going to his hips, taking a stance of anger and impatience. Watching his brother… brows furrowed, an eye darting over the page, his lips tugging up in the corners… something was wrong with this picture.
"Dean?" And he was met with a giggle snort that shook the two coffee cups on the table.
"This comic is freaking hilarious."
"Dean. Really. Man. God," Sam huffed, but his lips were going slowly into a smile, "just get your ass up. Or I'm gonna drive the car." He let go of his hips and crossed his arms on his chest.
"Dude, you touch my car, you're dead."
And just like that the Impala roared to life. Going head on into the next hunt, down a road she goes on way. too. often.
-:-:-
"So this is it?" Dean kicked a pebble that landed at the wooden door, rotten, almost grayish wood, which was closing the entrance to the mine. A warm wind blew out of the entrance, hitting Sam's face, making his hair fly. He pushed his backpack a bit higher on his shoulder and looked around himself. A forest covered their tracks, a forest full of secrets and birds and wild animals and shaking leaves. A cold wind came from there, in such contrast with the warm wind from before… it covered him, made him shiver, made him clutch at the string from his backpack. He had all he needed in there. All he hoped he needed.
The tall trees surrounding him made him feel oddly alone, him standing there like that in front of the broken wooden door. A broken pile of wood that time played with, that time corrupted. Made it rotten, made it forget about all the men that left their blood and sweat in there. Lives even.
"KEEP OUT" and "TURN AROUND" and "ENTER AT YOUR OWN RISK" were the signs that decorated the broken gate. They were small but large enough for a man to push through.
"Why do they put 'keep out' and then 'enter at your own risk' at the same time?" Dean kicked another pebble that hit the right side of the door. The sound echoed through the forest, hit of off Sam's chest and slid down the darkness that was hidden behind the pile of boards.
"Dean, man, leave it." he rolled his eyes and made a step forward. A big, warm hand hit him on his chest, right above his heart. Nothing needed to be said… Sam stopped, leaned into the touch, when he couldn't stop soon enough and let his brother take the lead.
Watching his brother's back, he walked after him. The depths of the mine so dark and lonely, Sam thought he was hit with the source of loneliness itself. It nagged at him, clenched his heart and squeezed his chest. Panic arose within deep of him, in depths as deep as the mine's, depths that held his fear for his brother. As dark as the mine was, as dark as the depths were, he was hit by a light. Square in his chest.
"Dean…" he whined, but the whine turned into nothing, when Dean removed the beam from his flashlight and started walking. The momentary heat, he was hit with left Sam. Standing there again, in the darkness made his feet lurch forward.
He caught up with his brother in two long strides. He almost crashed into his back, but stilled himself before doing that.
"Shall we, Sammy?" he looked at his brother; standing lost behind him, and shook his flashlight.
"Yeah, I have everything we'll need."
"Let's get this sucker."
"Lead on."
Dean looked ahead and shook his head at that. As if he wouldn't lead, pfft. In the depths of this stupid mine, he wouldn't leave Sam lead the way. No way, no how. You never know what the next step will bring.
So he walked. And he stumbled. And he cursed when he hit a big rock that was laughing at him, silently peaking from the dirt covered floor.
"Son of a bitch." Sam collided with Dean's back, his chest going straight into his brother's back.
"Dude?"
"I hit a stone." He sounded like a five year old, and Sam snorted.
"It ain't gonna kill ya." he cringed inward, the moment the words were spoken. He couldn't pull them back in, he couldn't stop the look Dean gave him 'no, the stone won't, Sammy'. Those words were written in Dean's eyes, and Sam didn't know what to say. Didn't know what to do… being down here, in this darkness, in this emptiness, he lost his sense of pulling back anything that escaped his mouth. He even got a glimpse of a thought that he almost cried over in his mind… will this be the same loneliness that will find him, when his big brother will die?
Dean pulled back his look as fast as he left it out and shrugged: "Yeah, one stone won't."
Sam smiled. What else could he do? They both knew how this hunt would go, what happened, what needed to be done… what will happen in a few weeks… or rather what will not happen in a few weeks.
Dean resumed his walk, kicking at the offending stone once more for good measure. He hoped that the stone felt the same pain he did. His big toe was killing him. But he knew it'll pass. Pain always passes; its memories that stick around.
The tunnel was tall if not wide. They had to walk one behind the other, there wasn't enough room to walk side by side and Dean hated that. Even though he was leading the way… he couldn't tell what was hiding in the darkness that was consuming Sam's back. He kept glancing behind him, checking over his little brother and every time he glanced back Sam smiled to him.
Their breathing resonated through the mine, an echo that hit them back when they stepped a step further. Their breathing… the only sound that was even allowed in the deep depths of the mine. All other sounds were just swallowed up by silence.
It was moist, little droplets of water sliding down the walls, the dirty, brown walls… earth and coal. When Dean's flashlight hit the drops of water they shone like gold… flickered in and out, their shine almost felt alive. It smelled of coal, that weird smell that actually doesn't even have a smell followed them on every step.
"It's freaking hot in here." Dean wiped the sweat that tickled his forehead and ran his hand over his top lip, where the salty water gathered in thick drops. He was having trouble holding onto the flashlight, it kept sliding out of his grasp… a drop of water fell on Sam's hair, slid down slowly, stopping on the tip of his nose before falling down to the pebbly ground. Their boots crunched the dirt and coal that has chipped away during all the years the mine had been out of commission.
They walked further, Dean leading the way, slowly and surly, watching his step, not wanting to add another bump to his toe. Illuminating the path, Sam was in the rear with the blackness enveloping his back.
Who knows what lurks in the darkness that covers you, when you step into the light? Sam turned around, nervously, heart somewhere in his throat, the beam of his flashlight cascading down the rocky wall, and he swallowed and blinked. Nothing, it was nothing. He turned around, back towards his brother. He was met by Dean's flashlight… straight into his face.
"Stop doing that, you're gonna fry my eyes."
"Scared, much?"
"No," he pushed Dean to walk, slid his hand over Dean's shoulder, the denim of his T-shirt wet from sweat, and mumbled at his brothers back, "stupid."
They walked, slowly, not wanting to make much noise, the hunt might hear them and that… that would be a no go.
In a cavern, in a canyon,
Excavating for a mine
Dwelt a miner forty niner,
And his daughter Clementine
Sam turned around again, thinking he heard something but there was nothing… just blowing of the wind and complete darkness, separated by the yellow beam from his flashlight.
The corridor narrowed at some point, neither of them really noticing, and Sam had to hunch down, because the hallway just wasn't tall enough… wasn't built for his figure: "Is it just me or did the corridor shrink at some point?"
"Nah, you just got taller."
"I swear the miners were midgets."
"What's your point?"
Sam looked at Dean and how he didn't have to hunch down, and needless to say… he made his point.
Light she was and like a fairy,
And her shoes were number nine,
Herring boxes, without topses,
Sandals were for Clementine.
Sam turned around again, the beam of light hitting all the little specks of dust in the air, hitting the wall, brightening up those little drops of water and the black coal that was still living in the walls.
Nothing, there was nothing but silence and darkness. Nothing more… and his brother's breaths ahead of him.
"Dean, did you hear something?"
"Yeah, your congested nose… if you're gonna breathe that loud, we can just forget this hunt."
"Funny."
"Yeah well, I try."
"Not succeeding."
The words were whispered into the hot, humid air of the mine shaft.
Drove she ducklings to the water
Ev'ry morning just at nine,
Hit her foot against a splinter,
Fell into the foaming brine.
"Okay, you had to hear that."
"What?"
Sam pressed his finger to his lips, and Dean nudged his head and mouthed: "What?"
Ruby lips above the water,
Blowing bubbles, soft and fine,
But, alas, I was no swimmer,
So I lost my Clementine.
"I definitely heard that."
"Yeah."
Sam slid down his backpack, the soft noise that it made, when it collided with the crunchy floor, sent shivers through Sam's arms, and when he was going through their supply of salt, bandages, knives and a few chocolate bars, the rough voice was heard once again.
How I missed her! How I missed her,
How I missed my Clementine,
But I kissed her little sister,
I forgot my Clementine.
"She died, you know? Boys…"
Sam turned around and for a second he regretted that action. The man was blue, white in Sam's flashlight, his eyes were predatory in their sadness, his black hair drenched with blood, that was still running down his cheeks, around his nose, into his toothless mouth.
"So did you!" and Dean shot the shotgun, the loud sound resonating through the mine.
"Wow, okay, so…"
"It's here."
"No kidding."
"How much further to the place he died?"
"Ah, Dean…" Before Sam could finish the sentence, Dean heard the gurgling voice.
Oh my darling, oh my darling,
Oh my darling, Clementine!
And the shot rang out again, dispersing the man into little tiny dust particles, which ran around the mine.
"Move your ass, Sam."
They ran; the slowness from before forgotten. The man already saw them, he knew they were here, knew why they were here.
They stumbled and fell, kicking their toes into the hidden rocks in the ground, their flashlights darting all over the place. Not even stopping to take a breath… they found the place. Found the big pile of rocks that hid the bones of the miner.
"Put your hands in good use, Sammy. Come on."
"Awesome."
They moved the rocks, threw them over their shoulders, threw them all over the place, not caring about the sound they made, not caring if the ghost would find them, not caring if they caused a freaking avalanche… the bones needed to be found and salted and burned. Now!
Thou art lost and gone forever
Dreadful sorry, Clementine
"Sam?"
"I hear it."
In all of the haste Sam was moving in, in every action he made, Dean shot the man straight into his chest. When the ghost left Dean's line of vision, he looked at Sam and his triumphant smile… the bones were a hot mixture of fire and salt.
"Fried. Crispy."
Dean turned around, picked up the backpack and looked back at the burning bones: "'m hungry... want some chicken. Fried."
The End.
Btw, I do not own the song: Oh My Darling, Clementine. Noup.