The Attack of Red
By: GrumpyMagrat & Magratconvert
Disclaimer: We do not own any of these characters. No money was made by the writing of this story. Our heartfelt thanks to Eric Kripke and the whole Supernatural crew for giving us such a great fandom to work with.
Dean plopped down on the back steps of the farmhouse. He and his father and brother were at the farm that Pastor Jim was staying at. Their dad's friend, Bobby Singer had also joined them for a hunt. "God, talk about boring. Not even a farmer's daughter."
Sam gave him a quizzical look. "This is Pastor Jim's place. He doesn't have any kids."
Dean rolled his eyes. "I didn't mean…oh never mind. I wish Dad would let me go into town, maybe catch a movie."
"That would be cool."
"Who said I'd take you? I don't want my little brother tagging along."
"Whatever, besides, Dad isn't going to let you go. He's going to want the car when they leave."
"Yeah, I know. Plus, they're going to leave me here to babysit you. Just you watch."
"Hey, I don't need a babysitter."
"Right, I'm going for a walk. Stay here and let Dad know."
Dean had only taken a few steps away from the porch when a blur of red flew at him squawking very loudly. "What the hell!" He tried to shake off the blob of feathers that had seemed to attach itself to his leg. He was able to dislodge it, only to have it charge at him again. In a panic, he yelled and ran to a nearby maple tree and quickly climbed it.
The three adults came running out of the house at Dean's yell. His father saw him in the tree. "What the hell are you doing? Get out of that tree."
"No way, Dad. Not while that thing is there." Dean pointed at the little red rooster that was still prancing in front of the tree, showing its spurs at Dean. "Look what it did to my leg."
John could just barely make out two thin scratches just above Dean's ankle. Bobby and Jim tried to hide their amusement at the situation. John shook his head. "It's not that bad. Come on, get out of that tree before you fall and kill yourself."
Again, Dean shook his head. "Not a chance. I think that thing is possessed."
"What's the matter Dean?" Sammy smirked. "Are you chicken? Bwwack, bwwack, bwwack."John silenced Sam with a look.
Bobby chuckled a bit. "Hey, John, you think we need to do a 'salt and burn'?"
Sammy couldn't help himself. He started laughing. Hard. First he bent over and then dropped to his knees. Finally, he just gave up and flopped onto his back on the ground.
John gave Bobby a withering look although laughter shone in his eyes. "Don't encourage them." Bobby just shrugged his shoulders in response.
John turned back to Dean but before he could say anything more to him, Pastor Jim snuck up behind the animal and grabbed him by his feet. He twirled the rooster in a circle above his head as he walked away from the group. He headed to the chicken coop that had a chopping block near it. In one fluid motion, he picked up the axe, laid the head of the rooster over the block, and deftly removed the head from the animal. The body twitched as its blood flowed out of the open wound.
"Jeez, Jim, you didn't have to do that," John proclaimed.
Pastor Jim shrugged. "Not a big deal. I needed to butcher him soon anyhow. He was starting to get old. I've got a few more chickens that need to be taken care of too. Can't be letting them get too old to eat. And just to make Dean feel more comfortable, I'll even fire up the grill. The grill seasoning has salt in it. We can improvise our own special version of a 'salt and burn' for our friend here."
John shook his head. "You too, don't encourage them." To his son, he announced. "Okay, Dean, climb down out of there. We'll clean up that leg. Sammy, you can help Pastor Jim."
Jim gave John a wink, and then held out the still twitching bird to Sam. "Here you go Sammy, you can start plucking the feathers out."
Sam was sitting up by now. He wrinkled his nose in disgust but cautiously took the bird by the feet.
"What's the matter Sammy?" Dean snarked. "You chicken? Bwwack, bwwack, bwwack."
This time the adults couldn't hold back their laughter.