Hi kids! How about that premiere! Kripke rocks my world! I'm so excited!
So, um, I had this idea for a humor fic. Really cracked myself up, but I needed a demon to 'move it along.' As I did my research, I found something completely different than what I was looking for, and this piece exploded.
It's not my typical fare - at all! It's more of an evil Harlequin novel, in fact. How else do we grow as writers if we don't challenge ourselves though, right? There were times I was uncomfortable writing it, but Sam seemed to enjoy it, so I continued. :D I hope that 'T' is a high enough rating, but with what we see nowadays, I'll probably be alright.
This was supposed to be a one shot, and well, it's not a oneshot. There are at least 6 chapters (most of which are written and being tweaked) and this will be part 1 of 2. I decided I have to continue the humor part of the piece in another story because it will not flow with the end of this one. That will be called "That which becomes a part of you" coming to a theatre near you. Haven't started it yet, but I wanted to give a heads up.
Thanks to Gem for kicking my butt and working on this and Rozzy for her always amazing support. Also to my buds at the Virtual Season who are busy plugging away on a schedule I cannot even fathom. Check it out at supernatural dot tv if you haven't already.
Oh, and I am not one to beg for reviews, because, well, I don't like blackmail in any form, but since this is a realm that is completely unfamiliar to me, any feedback - especially criticism - would be so incredibly appreciated! With that, on with the show.
Also, I haven't forgotten Cahokia, I just needed to get this out of my system.
:D
Caroline
-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o
"You sure this is it, Sammy?" Dean asked, pulling in front of a white ranch-style home - white picket fence included. The car idled with its guttural quality as he waited for his brother's response. What he received was a deep breath with a quick release. Dean looked to his right to see the gaze of his sibling staring back at him.
Sam nodded in reply.
The doors to the '67 classic creaked open as the hunters made their way to the trunk of the car, gathering weapons they deemed necessary for the 'main event.' Dean took his favorite Glock; Sam chose a handgun that fit in the small of his back nicely. He also decided on a blessed knife, dipped in holy water in case things turned a darker shade of gray.
Frankly he didn't know what to expect after the last few nights of visions. She warned Sam he would have to make a choice, and the curtain was about to pull back to reveal the stage.
It was just another pleasant day on Sunshine Street in the little town of Holy Cross, Iowa – population 339.
-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-
A beautiful blonde bombshell with a body that begged for attention stood at the door. Her luscious lips, covered with a shade of plum lipstick, curved into a sweet smile that reeked of danger and held Sam at bay. A small part of him relished the sight of her; remembering the splendor of Jessica. He couldn't help his eyes from roaming up and down here perfect figure; knowing deep down he should turn and run. Before the thought even dare hit his synapses, she pulled him inside and closed the door, her hands running up his muscular physique not waiting for an invitation.
He kissed her - passionately, deeply - and lost himself in the scent of vanilla that encompassed her body. What am I doing? The thought was there and gone. Sam was there and gone - his will chosen for him. His fingers ran gradually through her hair, feeling every fiber, as his mouth caressed her neck with his lips. She shuddered under the tickle and pressed herself deeper to his torso, wrapping her arms around his mid-section, groping at the strength she felt beneath her digits. The young man didn't mind as he continued his own adventures along her body.
Sam raised his head for a moment to feel the sun glinting through the bay window at the front of the house. He glanced at their figures silhouetted on the parquet floor and continued back up to the woman's lips. The hunter did a quick double-take as he noted a strange outline of their shapes on the ground. Trying not to alter the movement of her hands now moving to his hips, he shifted his gaze slightly to get a better look. In the shadow, from her backside, he saw what looked like a furry tail.
Sam's brow furrowed; senses now on alert, crashing back to reality. He continued the charade, enjoying it more than he would admit, and tried to alleviate any suspicion on his part. A shiver went up his spine as she made her way dangerously down the side of his thigh. His hands countered, slowly finding their own means to the small of her back; persisting downward. He pulled her closer, feeling her tense with gratitude. Sam wanted his instincts to be wrong; wanting this moment to last forever, but he knew he had to know. He grabbed with the other hand, feeling his way, then he slyly turned his body to get a look at the shadow that splayed on the floor.
What the hell?
She could feel the moment he knew, and her caressing became harsh and calculated. Nails scratched deeply into his thigh and up his sides, finding her way under the layers of clothing the man sported – always. Even in his dreams. He let out a startled cry at the discomfort. They had turned a corner. The momentum was unnatural and he knew he needed to get away. Sam pulled back with a slight pant as her eyes glowered with fire.
"I thought you would be different. You felt different," she said as she stepped back further, releasing him. She tossed her disheveled hair back from her face, deciding what her next move would be.
The hunter glanced once again at the shadow on the ground. There was no doubt she sported a tail. Sam cocked his head and motioned towards her, curiosity getting the best of him. "What are you?"
An evil smile tugged at her lips, choosing to continue this fairy tale further. She was still intrigued by the man; feeling the beacon of his inner self call to her. She had gone some lengths to find him and letting go because he knew her secret was not an option. "You will still come to me," she stated defiantly, moving within reach again. She paused for a moment, then swiftly touched the side of his head. Various images flickered through his mind; a red brick church with a white steeple, a white ranch home and the 'Welcome to Holy Cross, Iowa' sign.
Sam blinked the invading images away, pushing her from him harshly. Gut reaction had him duck as fire shot from her angry mouth, missing him by inches. He rolled instinctively to the ground as her tail, once shrouded in shadow, sprouted full force, shooting fire at the young hunter. Sam continued to bob and weave, avoiding her fiery rage, but knew that he needed to get out of the house. Fire was never a good thing; especially around him.
Sam ran for the door to find it locked and slick. He pulled his hand from the knob to find it covered in blood. The hunter looked around with a puzzled expression for the source of the substance, only to discover it was him. His eyes made the journey down to his hips, making the connection to the crimson flow around him. Now that Sam was aware of the blood loss, a stream of lightheadedness crashed into his reality and pulled on the horizon. A handprint marked the wall as he tried to keep himself upright.
The woman regarded the tall stranger in front of her as he crawled down the wall and closer to the floor. Suddenly her features looked fox-like as she stalked her prey. "You can't get away that easy. My fun with you is just beginning." The blonde leaned and kissed the side of Sam's face. He watched as she turned into a fox and trotted out near the back of the house, leaving the young hunter to slip away into unconsciousness.
-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o
Dean knew the sounds well. His mind knew before he was even awake that Sam was in the throes of a nightmare. The protector cracked open a weary eye and leaned his head toward his brother. Yup, he'll be shouting awake any…
Sam jumped with a gasp, taking in deep breaths as he recovered from the latest night assault. He punched his fists into his eyes, trying to remember the details as they scurried away, causing stars to form under his eyelids. His breathing calmed as he remembered key points of the vision. Finally satisfied he had gathered everything he could for the moment, Sam removed his hands and blinked into the darkness.
Above him stood Dean.
"Jesus, Dean! You scared the shit out of me!"
Taking that as his personal invitation, he sat on the edge of the bed looking at his younger sibling. "What was it?"
Sam wasn't quite expecting to have to spew the contents of the dream as soon as he awoke, and he knew he certainly didn't want to go into his personal fantasy gone awry. So he answered the only way he could fathom.
"I have no idea," Sam said throwing the few covers that remained off his person. He swung his long legs over the bed, running his fingers through his matted hair, taking a deep breath in the process. Sam dropped his head into his hands as he propped himself up on his knees. "She was some kind of fox," he mumbled absently, working details through, not even realizing he had spoken aloud.
Dean's grin widened at the comment, arching his eyebrows up and down. "Way to go, kiddo! You get a little hanky panky in your dream? Girl or ghoul? At least you get it somewhere!"
How does he do that?
The younger man blushed slightly at Dean's comments, hoping he couldn't see the redness he felt overcome his face, suddenly glad for the lack of light. Instinctively, Sam punched his brother in the shoulder, surprised to find his side a little stiff. The pain startled him closer to full consciousness as more of the dream flashed to him.
Dean watched the moment play out before him, waiting for a response. He knew he struck a nerve that elicited a punch, so he was on the right trail. He also knew that having a wet dream would not make his brother shoot out of bed in a panicked state (unless it was a guy). The guardian in him learned over the past few months that the more he pushed Sam on the dreams, the more he retreated into himself. Damn Shining! All joking aside, something instantly felt wrong about this and Dean wanted the details – sooner rather than later.
Sam emitted a heavy sigh, knowing he would have to tell his brother what happened.
This felt more like a message than a dream, a calling, and Sam couldn't quite wrap his head around the whole experience. There was interaction. Choice. With a beautiful woman that he instantly had a connection to; wanted to be with. Sam knew it could have gone a totally different way if he wouldn't have seen her tail. Her tail? That was a mystery he would have to delve into. Minus the extra appendage, she was everything he wanted in a woman; at least, that's what she told him. That's what he felt as she advanced on him; as he gave in to her, slowly. The scenario replayed in his mind and he felt the excitement of her still coursing through him, even now. And that's what confused and even scared him.
Dean looked to Sam, watching as he unfurled the dream in his head piece by piece. He would never admit to Sam's face how much these dreams scared him. Not so much because of what they represented, although that did scare the shit out of him too, but because of what they did, day by day, to his little brother. This was something Dean could not protect him from. There was no gun or relic that could make these nightmares disappear, and that helplessness cut deep to the bone. His heart started to pound a little faster as he was distracted by a mark on his brother's face.
Dean reached forward to inspect the spot, hovering. He leaned in closer.
"Dude, what is this?"
Sam broke from his internal trance, bringing his hand instantly to his face, fingering the area of inquiry. He rubbed slightly and pulled his hand back, seeing a smudge on his digits. Sam's stomach lurched as confusion set in around him. The light clicked on next to the bed and he sprinted up toward the bathroom, followed closely by Dean. They ambled to the mirror to regard the image. Sam cocked his head and leaned into the reflection, twisting his head to see what was there.
Dean was the first to speak as he assessed the situation. "It looks like lipstick." He grabbed his brother's face and turned it toward him to get a better look.
Face paling, Sam snatched back his visage and leaned once again into the mirror. His heart sank as realization hit him. He was right, it wasn't a nightmare; it was a vision. Somehow he was actually with the woman, and she wanted him to remember her. A message.
"Plum."
Dean scrunched his face at the comment, but realized that Sam was putting the pieces of the mystery together in his head. Leaving his sibling to think mode, he grabbed a towel from the rack to scrub away the ominous mark on Sam's face. Out of the corner of his eye, Dean spotted a line of red dots on his brother's shirt. Instantly, and without warning to Sam, Dean pulled the shirt up to reveal a large scratch up Sam's side, still trickling droplets of blood.
"Sam? What the hell?" Dean held the towel under the faucet for a brief moment, putting slight pressure on the scratch to wash it off.
Sam winced, surprised at the amount of pain on contact and glanced down. The removal of the towel revealed a claw mark from his encounter with the woman. She had left a physical mark as well so he would remember their rendezvous. Her own personal calling card.
"Shit."
Dean pulled back and blinked his eyes in fury. "Shit? That's all you're gonna to say?" He threw the towel to the sink. "Sam! What the hell did you see? What happened?"
Sam made his way to the toilet and sat down, pulling the towel with him. He looked again at the scratch and the image of her flooded his mind; excited him. Triggering the exquisite moments of the dream where he was overcome with emotion and lust. He gasped as he closed his eyes shut to the awareness, pushing the towel to the cut. Sam felt her hands roaming up his back and his lips in the nape of her neck. Do I smell vanilla? Sam shook his head as the senses assaulted him from everywhere, not able to stop them.
"She…" Sam started, unable to finish as more images of their tryst overcame him. He felt Dean crouch to his side, but could not see the worry etched in his face. He could only imagine what was going through Dean's mind as he looked at him. With the image of Dean's fear overtaking those of want, lust, Sam took a breath and tried to calm himself. Tried to extinguish the fire in his soul. He steadied his mind and opened his eyes to regard his brother's face in full-fledged Big Brother Mode. "We have to go to Iowa."