Disclaimer: This isn't mine!
Tiny spolier - you find out what Sam wears at one point in season 5 episode 4. Doesn't give away anything in the episode, though.
Okay, this is something I just really have to get out of my system. Me and my group of friends get so pissed off by this hat that every time I see it in Supernatural I practically scream. It just annoys me so much! Yes, I know this is completely random but I just had to post this... death to the hat!
P.S. Thanks to Ginger for persuading me to write this!
The sky writhed and thrashed like a living animal, throwing rain and lightning down on the earth as if the apocolypse had already come. Thunder snarled and smashed in the depths of the seething black clouds, electric blue and white sizzling through it barely a second afterwards. Sam and Dean stood side by side on the doorstep of the Singer Salvage Yard, rain lashing down on their soaked clothing, hair slicked against their skulls. Their pale skin seemed glow in the darkness, almost ghostly. Sam glanced quickly at his brother.
"Dean," he murmured. "Don't you think this is a little extreme?"
Dean's hand tightened into fists. "No," he growled. "We've given him chance after chance. We've warned him again and again, and he just won't see sense." He turned his head, returning his brother's gaze with ice-cold certainty. "This is the only way. This is all we have left."
Sam swallowed hard, and then nodded and turned back to face the door, his face set. He lifted his hand and rapped on the wood once more. They heard the footsteps coming just moments later, and Dean stiffened beside his brother. He gave a tiny, almost invisible nod and Sam pressed his lips together tightly. The door was suddenly wrenched open and Bobby appeared, his eyes wide with surprise.
And there it was. It was with him...
"What the hell are ya doing, ya idgits? Storm's comin' and you're just standin' in the rain?"
"Yeah, well," Dean said, his voice falsely bright. His fingers were itching to snatch the damn thing and rip it apart... but he had to wait. He smiled. "We needed to talk to you. Can we come in?"
Bobby's eyes narrowed slightly as he looked from one brother to the other. Dean cleared his throat. Sam took a small step forwards, his eyes widening hopefully.
"Bobby, we're so sorry. I know this is unexpected, but to be honest... we've been having a pretty tough time lately and we just... we just need someone... someone to talk to."
The puppy-dog eyes worked. Bobby's gaze softened and he stepped back to let them in. They moved inside slowly, Dean first, Sam second. Bobby led them through to the main room. A fire was already crackling in the grate, almost drowning out the noise of the storm. Shadows danced and stuttered on the walls, as if Demons could be standing in every shadow. Dean instinctively moved closer to Sam, glancing at his brother over his shoulder to check on him. Sam quirked an eyebrow.
Now?
Dean jerked his chin up a little, his eyes roving back over to the room.
Yes.
Sam turned towards Bobby. "Bobby?" he asked, his voice so innocent that Dean almost had to double take. "Listen, there's something I was looking for in Dad's journal about Wendigos. I couldn't find it. Do you think you have something in your journal about them?"
Bobby frowned. "I thought we were going to talk?"
"We are," Dean put in quickly. "This is to do with the Wendigo. Please, just go along with it, Bobby."
Bobby hesitated a moment longer, and then turned towards the fireplace.
Sam moved like a stirking viper. He threw himself forwards and wrapped both arms around Bobby's neck, driving him down to his knees. Before Bobby could even gasp, Sam had both arms wrapped around his body, binding his arms. Dean darted forwards and snatched the hat from his head, his fingers visciously clawed in desperation. He stumbled backwards as Bobby let out a yelp and lunged for him. The evil disgusting feel of the hat seemed to crawl up his arms, and Dean had to suppress a shudder as he stepped away.
"What are you doing!?" Bobby howled. "Sam, let go!"
"No," Sam snarled, his hands still vice-tight around Bobby. "You must have seen this coming, man. This has to stop."
"You're... you're not thinking straight," Bobby whispered. "Come on, Sam, you must see how crazy this is!"
"Its maddness, Bobby!" Dean shouted, shaking the hat. "This... this thing is going to kill you!"
"Its just a hat!"
"It is not just a hat, and you know it," Sam shot back. "You wear it everywhere. You wear it indoors, in the hospital, in the car... hell, I bet you even wear it in the shower!"
All eyes turned on the monster. It was a baseball cap, stained with oil and dirt, sectioned into green and white. It glared at them all, daring them to fight it. It was disgusting.
"You boys are insane!" Bobby yelled, straining against Sam's hold.
Dean returned his gaze with cold, clenching anger. "No, Bobby." He lifted the cursed object in his other hand. Lighting flashed twice, illuminating the thing in a weird, eerie light. "I'm sorry... this hat has got to go."
He turned towards the fire. Bobby let out a scream of horror and ripped one fist free. He jerked it backwards and hit Sam in the face, sending him tumbling backwards. Dean made a leap for the fire but he was too late - Bobby slammed into him, carrying them both down to the floor. Dean twisted, holding the hat out of the older man's reach. Bobby clawed at him like an animal, tearing at his clothes and hair. Dean lashed out with both legs.
"Sam!" he yelled. "Sam! Help me!"
Sam crawled into view, blood streaming from his nose and lip. He rose to his feet, swaying, and held out both hands. Dean threw the hat to him. It arced through the air and landed in Sam's hands. Sam whirled around and threw it into the fire.
"NO!"
Bobby's boot sank into Dean's stomach and Dean let go, gasping and choking. Sam staggered back from the fire as Bobby fell to his knees before the grate. He slammed both hands into the walls of the fireplace, his mouth open wide in a silent scream of horror. Deep in the fire the hat was burning, smoking... and then it fell to ashes and was gone. Bobby crouched frozen, staring into the ashes, one hand clasped to his naked head. Behind him, Dean stood up slowly, panting and Sam moved unsteadily over to join him, wiping at the thick blood that was falling from his nose and lip.
"I'm sorry, Bobby," Sam whispered thickly. "Its over."
Dean nudged him and they turned slowly towards the door. They had barely taken three steps before Bobby suddenly spoke up, his voice shaking with grief.
"No," he choked out. "Its not over. Because you know what, Sam? Those shoes you wear in Season 5 episode 4 with the white suit... They're dead, boy."
Sam paled. Dean reached for his arm, his eyes flickering dangerously.
"Its okay, Sam," he said quietly. "We'll go somewhere he'll never find us. He won't get your shoes."
"Really?" Bobby demanded, his voice wild with despair. "Because I'm coming for you too, Dean. That green and red checkered shirt you wore... I'm coming for it!"
Sam and Dean shot a panicked glance at one another.
"Sam," Dean whispered. "Run."
Sam didn't need to be told twice - he turned and fled from the house, Dean on his heels. They burst out into the lashing rain and dived into the car, desperate to put the Yard in their rear-view mirror as soon as they could.
At least that ****ing hat was gone...
I know, makes no sense at all... but come on, someone out there has to agree with me!!! THAT HAT IS EVIL!!!!!!!!!!
Thanks for reading, Review if you're scared for my sanity...
SUPRNTRAL LVR.
