He heard the very faint sliding of cloth against the ground. He opened his eyes and saw Sam. The creature that took the form of Sam crossed the room. Dean sat up strait.
" Will you come," Dean said as Sam straddled his lap and sealed his lips over Deans. Dean quickly pulled back, "and have coff-," The creature once again kissed him, cutting him off. The creatures weight seemed to crush him, Dean now felt the air leaving his lungs. He tried to move and felt a sharp pain in his ribs, just a few more words, " coffee with-" Sam grabbed his face violently in growing frustration and forced its lips over his. His lungs felt both crushed and on fire. His body felt heavy, his muscles ready to tear. Dean yanked his face away "me tomorrow"
The creature angrily pulled away from Dean and backed itself into the corner of the room. It seemed to dissolve into the wall. It was gone. Dean sat up panting. He could barely believe what had just happened. It had kissed him. Kissed him. It hadn't been pleasant. It . He hadn't enjoyed the feeling of the air leaving his lungs. His ribs felt bruised or possibly broken. He couldn't tell Sam about the mara kissing him. Dean was extremely disturbed. He sat up gingerly. Dean pressed on his ribs lightly and gasped. It had fractured two of his ribs. He grimaced deeply.
He stood up and crossed the room. He had to tell Sam he had invited the thing to coffee. He had better make some damn good coffee or that thing was going to keep killing people.
Dean walked down the hallway and knocked then opened the door to Sam's room.
" Ok Sam, I invited it to coffee. You happy now"
" Ya, actually. I think I know how we can kill it"
" Finally some good news." Dean couldn't wait to kill the thing.
" Was today really that bad?" Sam asked mockingly.
" That thing tried to kill me! And it looked like you, of course I'm in a bad mood!" Dean yelled totally insulted. He wouldn't, couldn't tell him just how bad the day had been. " Plus, I think that thing broke one of my ribs"
" Dude, I was kidding. Calm down. We should go to the doctor tomorrow"
" Why not tonight?" Dean asked frowning deeply. " Because tomorrow we have to kill the mara, and we need to be awake"
" Fine, fine, as long as we get to kill the damn mara tomorrow." " We will."
That night Dean didn't go to sleep. He woke Sam up unreasonably early, " Sam, come on, wake up. It's time to make the damn coffee." He grabbed Sam's shirt and yanked him out of the bed, " Get up." Sam slapped at him.
" It's too early." Sam groaned.
" I don't care." He shook him.
" ok, I'm up." Sam stood up slowly from the floor. He crossed the room to his duffle bag and changed out of his pajamas. " Your ribs feeling any better"
" Actually no, they feel worse and it hurts to breath." Dean truly, deeply hated broken ribs They were extremely painful. They took along time to heal, and there's not much you can do about them.
" After we kill the mara we're going to the hospital. We're going to say… that you flew over the handlebars of a dirt bike." That did sound vaguely like something Dean would do, if you replaced the dirt bike with a motorcycle.
Dean stared at him blankly " That makes me sound like an idiot."
" Ya, I know." Just one look at Deans charming but idiotic smile and you'd believe he was an a it of an idiot.
" Ok… go make the coffee. Now." Dean ordered pointing at the door.
Sam went down the stairs to the kitchen. He began making the coffee, he changed out the sugar from the sugar bowl.
At 9:00 AM there was a knock at the door. Dean opened the door slowly, not knowing what would stand behind it. A nearly androgynous man stood at the door, his red hair was long and fell in soft curls, His sea green eyes glittered behind thick eyelashes. His pale skin was marked with thick black patterns and symbols.
The man smiled, " I'm here for coffee." He stated simply as he entered the house. He went straight to the kitchen and sat down at a seat and crossed his legs.
He looked around the room, annoyed, " Where's the fucking coffee"
Dean stared at him. Weren't maras supposed to charming or at least pleasant?
" Well"
" Oh, here." Dean served him the coffee, and handed his the sugar.
" Milk?" The man ordered.
What a bitch.
The man fixed his coffee and took a long chug of the coffee. It tasted oddly sweet. He stopped mid-chug and looked up at Dean horrified.
" You didn't!" The man shrieked as he stood. He forcefully threw the nearly empty cup of coffee at Dean.
Dean held up the bag of belladonna and shook it, " Oh yes, I did." He said.
The creatures face seemed to stretch into a deformed, but still vaguely humanoid shape. As it shrieked it's eyes turned from sea green to black. It staggered back and looked around frantically. Quickly the man grabbed the coffee pot from the counter.
Dean's smile faded fast, the creature threw the coffee glass coffee pot at him. He tried to duck but still he wasn't fast enough, the coffee pot slammed into his stomach hard. It's hot content splattered over him, burning his shin. The glass shards punctured the sensitive skin on his stomach and chest, the coffee making them burn as if they were coated with acid.
The creature smiled, " Not so cocky now?"
The Mara's image seemed to flicker, it let out a cry of rage and ripped the granite counter top off of the island. With one last cry it flung the large slab of stone at Dean.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- The mara is kissing him so he can't speak, protest, or invite it to have coffee with him.
If you read the first chapter you will understand this. Alps are believed to crush animals to death. Also its victims are pressed into the bed meaning they had an immense weight on them.
For those of you who are under the impression that drowning is a peaceful way to die, know this: Those who have survived drowning say it is an excruciating and frightening experience. It feels as described in the story, but worse. When drowning you feel the weight of the water pressing down on you, the water seeping into your lungs. Drowning is knowing true pain.
Belladonna or nightshade is said to taste sweet. Because of this many people who are poisoned don't notice the flavor. Another reason they don't recognize the flavor as poison is because the majority of poisons are not sweet, in fact, very few are.
Sam ran into the kitchen just in time to see the granite hit Dean. He saw it crack as it connected with the wall that had been behind Dean.
He turned to the Mara and saw it smiling wickedly. Suddenly its smile disappeared. The Mara screamed in agony, Sam saw a black circle growing around it's feet. The void seemed to be pulling it in. It was being dragged down further and further into the void. The Mara's Clawed hand were all that was visible now, they scratched at the surface of the tile frantically. Then they too were sucked under.
Sam rushed to Deans side and moved away the broken granite. The first thing he noticed was the blood, it came from a great many cuts that covered Dean's body. He could see the bone in his arm piercing through the skin.
He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Sam pulled out his phone and called 9-1-1.
" 9-1-1, What's your emergency"
" My brother had an accident, he's bleeding a lot"
" Ok, where are you"
" Famin boulevard"
" We'll send an ambulance right away sir, stay calm."
Dean had felt the granite slam into his body, had felt his bones crack. He was pinned to the way. The stone had crushed two of his ribs and had kept him from breathing. He very vaguely heard the door open and Sam running in, rushing to his side, heaving the oppressing stone off of him. Dean heard Sam's voice, panicked and calling for help. He tried to move but his muscles screamed out at even the slightest movement. Breathing hurt, thinking hurt.
Dean wasn't quite sure how long he had been asleep. When he opened his eyes he saw a figure leaning over him. The figure sighed in relief. " Dean, you're awake." The figure whispered.
" Hey there Scully." Dean muttered, half grimacing, half smiling. He was happy to see his little brother..
" How you feeling?" Sam asked him.
" Like shit on a warm day." Dean told him truthfully
" That's better than I would have expected." The doctors had told Sam that Dean might not wake up. He was happy just to see him breathing. " Dean listen, you're really messed up." He hoped that Dean understood the severity of the situation.
" I thought I was going to die. It felt like giving up." Dean said weakly, he didn't know how to explain the way it felt to come so close to dying.
Sam stared at Dean, " I thought I was going to lose you…"
" How long am I going to be in here?" Dean asked, suddenly impatient, " Because, we need to get out of here. When those people come back to their house, they're not going to be happy"
" Once you're well enough we'll get out of here." Sam told him, " I am going to go to the house and pick up our stuff. Then, we're going to hope those people don't go back to their house for a long time."
Sam picked his way through the house, taking anything that was theirs and wiping the whole house down. He couldn't leave any evidence behind. Sam scrubbed the kitchen floor down.
The police would still be able to tell their had been blood on the floor their but they wouldn't be able to get a reliable sample of blood.
He was finally done cleaning the house six and a half hours later. He stood up and brushed himself off. Walking out of the house he scanned the surrounding houses for open curtains. He did not want to be seen.
Through a slightly open window Sam saw a women, she held her hands, palm up towards the ceiling. Her long dirty blond hair swung gently as she swayed back and forth from side to side. She seemed to be moving in a slow circle. As she turned her face was illuminated by the moon light. She was in no way pretty. Her eyes were very deeply set and her whole face seemed to sag.
Sam waited until she was turned away from him and sprinted across the street. He stood with his back pressed against the wall next to the room and listened to what she chanted.
"Hier leg' ich mich schlafen,
Keine Nachtmahr soll mich plagen,
Bis sie schwemmen alle Wasser,
Die auf Erden fließen,
Und tellet alle Sterne,
Die am Firmament erscheinen!
Dazu helfe mir Gott Vater, Sohn und heiliger Geist. Amen!" Sam recognized the chant, it was meant to keep an alp or mara away. He guessed she'd be happy to know that the mara was gone.
Then, he rethought the situation, and suddenly understood.
Sam came back to the hospital. He sat down next to Dean, " Hey Dean, I know who was summoning the mara. I'm going back to her house tonight"
" A witch?" Dean asked Sam sleepily. The pain medicine had made him tired.
" Ya, and a real ugly one too"
" You gonna shoot her"
" I guess." Dean smiled at him slyly.
" So, who's the trigger happy one now?" Dean asked laughing. He cringed deeply, laughing felt like metal nails slamming through his bones.
" Still you."
Sam stood with his gun at the ready. He took a deep breath and opened the door as quietly as possible. When he entered the room he could barely see. There was no source of light save a small candle. Sam cautiously crossed the dim room, his gun pointed ahead of him.
Now he could vaguely hear the T.V. from a nearby room. Sam walked down the hallway towards the noise. He waked into the room and saw her. Up close looked, if possible, worse, he could now see that her skin seemed to sag more on the left side. She turned to him, startled. Her eyes were jaundiced and glassy.
" Who are you?" Her voice was raspy and unpleasant.
Sam pointed the gun at her head and shot. She ducked just in time ad lashed out at him wildly. He avoided the blow easily and trained the gun on her forehead. The witch quickly moved out of the way. She picked up a lamp from a near by coffee table and smashed it over his hand. The gun fell from Sam's hand and clattered to the floor. Both hunter and witch dove for it.
The woman, being closer to the ground as it was, got to the gun faster. She held it triumphantly then aimed and shot once. The bullet flew by Sam's head, exploding into the vase behind him. He dove at the old women's legs knocking her to the ground. He reached for the gun and was able to retrieve it. He pulled the trigger, the gun fired. It hit it's target. Blood splattered on the floor and walls.
Sam wiped all of his prints from the house and left the house, going back to the hospital.
He sat down on the corner of Dean's bed.
" Dean, I did it. She's dead."
" Good job, Sammy"
" Sammy, Sammy? Dean, how many times do I have to tell you. It's Sam, not Sammy. Got it?" Sam said, insulted.
" Well… nope." Dean told him truthfully. He would never, for as long as he lived, stop calling him Sammy. He just couldn't stop.
Sam frowned deeply, " Well, I could call you Deanish." He knew how much Dean hated that.
" Say you do that," Dean said threateningly, " I will personally take whatever is in this IV, and spray you in the eyes with it."
It had been a long week.
Dean was leaving the hospital, not that the doctors told him it was time to go. Sam had found out that the family had gone back to their home, so they had to get out. Fast. The family members would recognize them if they saw them. They couldn't take that chance.
On the seventh night at the hospital they snuck out. Sam helped Dean into a wheel chair and simply wheeled him out nonchalantly. Of course when I say nonchalant, I mean that they produced a document signed by Dean's doctor saying he was well enough to leave. No doctor in his right mind would have signed this form.
They left around 2:30AM around this time there was always a spike of activity in hospitals because this is right after when most bars close. It was easy to sneak out since all of the nurses and doctors were busy.
They got into the Impala and drove away. Not above the speed limit, but no below. While Sam drove Dean laid in the back and slept. He had slept more than ever before (not counting the time he was in a coma), because the body heals most when you sleep.
Being so helpless made Dean feel completely and utterly useless. Sam had to help him do a lot of the things he had always thought were simple tasks.
Bush your teeth, his arms were broken. Drive a car, one of his legs was broken.
Dean healed slowly but well. Eventually he would be well enough to hunt again. And hunt he would.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------This means:
'I lay me here to sleep;No night-mare shall plague me,Until they swim all the waters
That flow upon the earth,
And count all the stars
That appear in the firmament!
Thus help me God Father, Son, and Holy Ghost. Amen!' In German.
Yellowed, caused by malnutrition or disease.
Because of the severity of his injuries.
