A.N.: So I got about half-finished with the new chapter for Forever this Way and I got stuck, which lead me to pop in a SPN dvd and I was watching "Jump the shark" and the scene with Adam made me think about this. Hope you like. Thanks as always for reading! I appreciate all of you!
Disclaimer: I'm like a broken record, surely you get it by now...it's not mine.
He scrambles backwards into a tree and mutters "Son of a bitch."
A owl calls out in the night, the moon is illuminating a wide river running below him and all and all it would be a gorgeous evening...if it weren't for the legion of zombies following him down the hill.
His eyes dart around for his brother, having lost him among the sea of monsters.
"Sam!" He bellows and winces when the only answer is the increasingly loud groaning from behind him.
"Not getting my brains." He grumbles, turning to fire a panicked shot among the group.
He mentally high fives himself as he see two or three of them stumble and then fall. And then another three or four stop to begin to feast on the fallen.
"Gross!"
He takes a step or two back, realizing with a gulp that he has put himself directly between the horde and the water. With not nearly enough ammo to survive.
'You dumbass.' He thinks, casting his eyes for Sam. He has to be okay. He can't bear to think of the alternative.
There is a cliff high above him and a huge boulder that shifts a little on the ledge.
"Oh come on!" It's not enough that he has an army of undead brain suckers on him now mother nature has decided that she doesn't like him either.
The rock balances precariously as Dean flattens himself on the cliff wall, pulling his shotgun in tight to his side. The zombies are drooling and moaning and pulling nasty decaying bodies towards him when the rock comes crashing down. Dean flinches at the cacophonous sound it makes, not to mention the sickening crunch of rotting bones under it. He can see that a couple of the zombies are half trapped under the rock and trying to pull themselves free.
"What the?" He questions, circling around the object to gaze up at the top of the cliff.
Where his baby brother stands, shoulders heaving in exertion, smiling at him. Dean's never been so happy to see the geek in his entire life.
"You okay?" He calls up, planting a steel toed boot into one of the remaining zombies faces.
"Yeah! You?" His voice echoes in the forest.
"Yeah, none of these ugly mothers got to snack on my head."
Sam is making his way down the cliff now. "Thought they were after brains?" He muses as he drops down to the ground.
"They were. What's your point Sammy?" Dean asks as he takes a few steps towards Sam. He can see a tear in his jeans and his scraped up knees now.
"Why did they come after you then?" Sam snickers.
"Oh you're hilarious!" He shoves his brother lightly on one shoulder. "Bitch."
"I just saved your ass with a giant rock, jerk."
Dean ruffles his hair for just a minute, because he knows Sam can't stand it. "Showoff."
Sam was having a bad day. An even for Sam Winchester, bad day. It started off with waking up feeling like he was going to be sick, followed immediately by rolling out of bed to venture to bathroom only to get dizzy and vomit. He then passed out into said vomit and woke up to Dean cleaning him off and looking worried, by the time Sam had convinced him he was just feeling a bit under the weather Dean had started making jokes about Sam being a sorority girl. He had spent most of the day in bed, only rising to drink some water and then going back to bed. His head was still a bit fuzzy on the details of why he was so badly hurt. Dean told him about the werewolf they had hunted the other night and how it had shaken Sam off and into a tree. Oh right, trees were bad. One of the times Sam had woken up Dean had been polishing his gun and pulling silver bullets out of the duffel.
"You aren't going after it alone are you?" He questioned, pushing up on the headboard.
"It's just one bitch Sammy, I'll gank her and be back in no time."
"No, I'll go with you." He insisted, swinging his feet to the side of the bed.
"And do what? Faint on her? Hurl? Dude, I got this. It's one werewolf, one silver bullet, I think even I can't manage that."
"We should stick together." Sam said, getting to his feet and swaying just a bit on the spot.
Dean grabbed him by his shoulders and lowered him back to the bed.
"Sam, you're just gonna get yourself hurt. Stay here, sleep, watch T.V. I'll be back before Oprah."
Sam blinked his eyes to clear the blurriness and noticed that his vision cleared just in time to see the door being closed.
He threw on shoes and raced outside only to be greeted by the sight of the Impalas taillights fading into pin points.
He followed Dean to the warehouse they had thought the werewolf was camping out in. His head was pounding and his legs were shaky, but his brother was out there alone, and that gave him the fortitude to go on.
Not to mention the cold Michigan night air was clearing his thoughts.
He was feeling pretty good about himself when he opened the door to the warehouse. Less so when he heard a low growl from behind him.
He took off running, squinting into the dark so he didn't run into any equipment. What type of warehouse was this anyway? He was pretty sure he could see a crane up ahead.
He dodged a swipe from the pissed off creature behind him, pulled a knife from inside his coat and sent it sailing behind him. A yowl from the darkness. Bingo!
He was just reaching the end of the building when he heard his brothers' voice. "Sam! Move out of the way!" And by instinct he leaped to the left. Just in time to miss a colossal pallet of something being dropped from the sky.
"Sammy! You okay?" He could see the outline of his brother climbing out of what looked like a crane, amulet catching in the slivers of moonlight from the window.
"Yeah," He brushed off the dirt from his jacket. "I think so. Thanks."
Deans hands passed over his head,checking for injury, and frowning at the younger Winchester.
"Dude, I told you to stay put. I was coming right back."
"I thought you might need help."
Dean scoffed and patted his brother on the arm.
"What the hell did you drop on it?" Sam asked as he watched the puddle of blood leak out from under the weight.
Dean beamed. "It's a warehouse full of office supplies."
"Don't tell me." Sam groaned.
"Yup! Paper, you of all people Sam should know not to mess with trees in any form."
Sam rolled his eyes. "Shut up."
Freaking witches man. He really, really hates them. The way they smell, they way they look, the fact that their rituals always involve some sort of animal sacrifice.
She is grinning at him with ruined teeth and it's all he can do to keep his delicious hamburger lunch right where it belongs.
"You know you would think for a bitch like you that worships the devil he could spring for dental." He states.
"Shut your mouth!" she screeches. "You know nothing of my dark lord."
"Can't say as I do sister, I never could get behind all the rituals. And the weekly meetings," He shrugged a shoulder. "Call me lazy, but I just could never make it on time."
Her cracked lips pulled up into a sneer. "You think you are so funny Dean Winchester. Hiding behind your humor so you don't have to face the sad truth. That no one cares about you." She raises a hand to her forehead and Dean has the sinking feeling she is reading his thoughts.
"Not Daddy, he's gone. Not Mommy, burned up into ashes, not anyone. Not even Sammy, who you yank around like a pet!" She hisses.
Dean feels a momentary thought that maybe she is right and it is chased away by real thoughts of Sam. Thoughts of the two brothers who always have each others back. When he gets out of this he is going to have to make mention that for once the chick flick moments saved the day. Or something to that effect.
He glances around to the cup holding scissors on the desk and takes a step forward, noticing with a smirk that the witch takes three steps back.
"Well if Sam was here he could attest that someone cares about me, unfortunately he's recovering from puking his guts out, courtesy of your hex bag. As for all the other crap you said, well you are the one worshiping a dark lord to just to get laid so really who has the personal issues here, me or you?"
She shakes her head. "It's supposed to work. You are supposed to submit!" She cries and back into the corner of the office.
Dean swipes the scissors from the desk rolls over the top of it and plunges them into her heart.
"I'm a Winchester lady. We never submit." and with that she drops to the floor gushing blood.
Dean looks down at the body of a woman he had mistakenly thought was just a secretary when first coming to town, and then to the steady stream of red flowing past the twin blades of the scissors.
Why does he always pick scissors...because they're awesome.
A.W.: Hope you liked, just a quick fun thing to chase away Monday madness. :)