"Sam, run!"

"No. I'm not leaving you behind!"

"Sam, please. I don't know if I can . . . "

"No. We're doing this together."

Dean and Sam crawled forward. The absolute perfectness of the Sue was blinding to them. They could feel themselves weakening the closer they got. They kept their eyes on her feet - they had learned the consequences of looking her in the eyes.

Dean was the first to get to her. Her feet were so perfect. Tiny, tanned, with her toenails painted a pretty pink color. He reached his hand out to touch her foot and beg her love.

"Dean! Dean, no!"

Sam's cry snapped him out of his trance. He fought to get to his knees as he grabbed the dagger out of the sheath located on his leg. He threw himself at the Sue and knocked her down, straddling her chest. He raised the dagger and started stabbing wildly.

"Why...won't...you...die!"

Sam grabbed his shoulder. "Dean, it's gone. You killed it. It's okay now."

Dean dropped his knife. Shaking, he sat down beside it and put his head in his hands. They had never been up against anything like that before.

There was no time for girly emotions right now. They had to dispose of it. He got up and they prepared everything. They cut it up into smaller pieces with the machetes they had dropped beside their Impala what seemed like ages ago, gathered wood and other items to light a bonfire, and then watched it burn.

They were relieved they were able to kill it and thinking about the room they had rented back in the town with the nice shower and beds when they heard it. Giggles. They ripped through the night air behind them. Dean and Sam stiffened and looked at each other with wide eyes and horrified expressions. They didn't want to believe it, didn't want to look in the direction it came from. Slowly they turned their heads and looked behind them. In the shadows stood three Mary Sues in all their glory and splendidness. They giggled again.

"No. No. No. God, no."