Author's Chapter Notes:
Okay so only one left to be posted on Sunday and Gnome is done. Thanks to all that are reading and I hope you enjoy - K ;)
The moment the motel door slammed shut, Al scrambled up onto the chair Sam had sat upon earlier and twitched back the heavy curtain that blocked the window. A quick glance confirmed that Carrie was heading back to her car. As he watched, a burning hatred began to build in his chest unlike anything he'd ever felt before. This one woman had managed to ruin not only his life, but also the lives of so many others with her heartless quest to be the best.
To make matters worse, she now intended to do harm to Sam and Dean. Though Al had no idea what she'd poured into the quart of cream that was in the fridge, he had little doubt that it was intended to do damage. Given Carrie's track record, he knew the brothers wouldn't stand a chance against whatever it was. As he watched the witch slip into her car, he came to a decision. If Dean was right and his life really was over then there was no reason not to exact the revenge he craved.
Quick as he could he dropped flat to the seat and then lowered himself over the edge. As he hung, his feet dangling inches above the green shag carpet, he couldn't help but feel a slight wisp of panic at the thought of dealing with Carrie on his own. Given his current state, he wondered if he wouldn't be better off waiting for the hunters to return.
"Suck it up and do what needs doing," he murmured, the words seemed somehow Dean-like and served to help soothe his nerves. He had no doubt that if positions were reversed, the hardened hunter wouldn't hesitate.
With a thump, he dropped to the ground and determinedly headed for the mini fridge that thankfully rested on the floor. Six feet or six inches it didn't matter, he told himself resolutely, justice would be served. While he worked to get the fouled creamer out of the refrigerator, he began to put together the beginnings of a plan to defeat the schemer that had destroyed his life. As plan after plan flitted through his mind, he couldn't help but grin at the image of himself locked in an Austin Powers/Mini-me type battle-royal with the busty brunette.
Given his size, he knew he had little chance against Carrie in a physical battle. His biggest asset was the fact that he had surprise on his side. There was no way Carrie could be expecting a two foot gnome to throw a wrench in her plans, Al thought as he unscrewed the lid of the milk. With a shove, he tipped the quart over and watched as a river of white flowed out onto the rug. Even though he knew it was stupid, he couldn't help but stare at the liquid, watching for some kind of indication that the cream had been poisoned. It didn't seem right that there was no puff of smoke, no melting carpet, or even a foul odor to suggest that the milk was anything more than a coffee condiment. The lack fueled his determination even more.
It took little imagination to see Sam and Dean, back from their breakfast run and ready to enjoy their morning coffee, tipping the creamer into their mugs. The image of the brothers writhing on the ground as the effects of Carrie's potion destroyed them seemed burned in Al's mind as he tipped the last of the milk out and then headed for the exit.
As he reached up to twist the gold knob that sat above him, he had a terrifying moment in which he thought he'd be too short to reach. Rising up on his tiptoes, he released his pent up breath only once he managed to grasp the handle and give it a firm twist. Certain that he was doing the right thing, Al took a quick look at the quiet parking lot and darted toward the nearest tree cover. He knew he'd never be able to catch Carrie, but he had a pretty good idea where she was headed next. Plotting his course, he quickly left the motel parking lot.
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Sam kept his eyes firmly pinned to the flimsy tray he held in his hands. He knew he'd catch hell from his brother if he allowed even one of the tiny tater tots they'd bought at Burger King to topple off.
"Don't you dare drop my tots," Dean growled as if he could actually read Sam's very thoughts.
With a guilty start that did little to settle the round fried potatoes, Sam snapped back, "I'm not twelve Dean, I told you I can carry the damn tray."
The sound of the door opening had Sam taking off like a shot. Right through the entrance and straight for the table he walked, careful not to loose even one grease laden circle. "Ha! There you go. I didn't drop anything," Sam crowed as he began sifting through the huge pile of food they'd bought.
"Very good, Sammy. I guess that higher education's finally payin' —"
Sam glanced up in worry as Dean's words ground to a halt. "What's wrong?"
No sooner were the words out of his mouth then Sam grasped what had upset his brother. There on the floor, near the mini-fridge, was the cream that Dean had bought for Sam's coffee two days ago.
"Al's not here," Dean growled as he began to search the room anyway.
Sam moved toward the spill. "It's a fresh spill, whatever happened, just happened."
"Why the hell would he dump the milk then run?" Dean questioned as he angrily gained his feet after a quick glance under both the beds.
As Sam picked up the milk jug, he noticed flakes floating in the dregs of the milk. Carefully he tipped the container over, catching just a bit of the spilled milk in the palm of his hand. "Al didn't do this," Sam said as he drew a finger through the green flecks he'd found.
"If not Al, then who?" Dean asked as he moved to Sam's side.
Turning his hand, palm forward, Sam showed his brother the evidence he'd found. "Carrie," Sam said without a doubt, "this has to be the remains of some kind of spell."
Dean didn't even bother too look at the proof. Instead, he spun on his heel and grabbed the weapons bag. Within seconds, he had a pair of antique iron cuffs in his hand. "Load up, Sammy. That bitch's got Al."
Sam quickly wiped the palm of his hand on the bedspread and grabbed the sheaf of papers he'd been working last night. "She's got to be headed for Phil's. He's the only one left."
"Most likely," Dean agreed as he headed out the door. "I don't get it though, why would Al show himself. I mean he knows what she is."
Dean was right, Al more than anyone understood just what the woman was capable. He would never have willingly gone anywhere with her. "Maybe she recognized him from the trip."
"Yeah, well whatever the reason, you can bet he's in trouble," Sam worried as both brothers made a dash for the car.
"No doubt," Dean agreed.
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As Al brought the bright pink, battery operated, Barbie car to a shuddering stop, he couldn't help but feel that fortune was finally favoring him. He'd only been two blocks from the motel when he'd managed to boost the tiny vehicle from an empty driveway. Unconcerned with anyone seeing him, after all, who would really believe they were watching a two foot garden gnome steering a Barbie car through downtown Doylestown, he'd taken the most direct line he could toward Phil's house.
Determined to get the jump on the woman who'd ruined his life, Al carefully climbed from the car and trotted across the black macadam of the driveway. As he edged past Carrie's grey Nissan, he found himself suddenly hesitant to find a way into Phil's place. Up until the day he'd committed the mistake of falling for Carrie's more than ample charms, Phil had been his closest friend. Then he'd gone and let Carrie get between them. Even now that he understood she'd been playing him, he couldn't help the guilt that threatened to choke him.
The thought of what he'd find when he at last got the courage to enter the house was the worst part. He couldn't loose the image of Phil's lifeless form swinging from a rope. That picture is what finally gave him the courage to move. He would avenge both himself and his friends and stop the witch once and for all.
With a tug of his long white beard, Al started around the building heading for the back door. Though Phil had never needed it, the house had come equipped with a doggy door that would perfectly suit Al's purpose. In moments, he was ducking through the opening and carefully easing his way into the house. Once inside the empty kitchen he stood for a moment, trying to pinpoint the low murmur of voices he heard.
The sound of Phil's deep voice, gave him hope that he wasn't too late. At least that was his thought until he heard his friend moan deeply. Urged on by the noise, Al headed for the back of the house. As he crept down the hallway, he couldn't help but regret the fact that he had no weapons with which to dispatch Carrie. Cursing himself for not even bothering to raid Dean's weapons bag, Al decided to leave it up to fate. After all, according to the hunters he was dead. That had to work in his favor somehow.
Another low groan had Al shoving away his fears as he ran down the remaining length of the hallway. Before he could second-guess himself, he threw his shoulder into the already unlatched door. His momentum was such that he was halfway across the room before he finally managed to stop. As he stood facing the foot of the bed, he tried to assimilate what he was seeing with what he'd expected to see. He'd expected to find Phil struggling for his life as Carrie laughed menacingly behind him. What he saw, was Phil struggling to do something that should have been physically impossible, and Carrie was urging him on.
"Aw, god, no. That's just wrong," Al burst out, as he turned away from the sight of his friend and the witch on the bed.
A scream and a thud followed his own cry, but Al resolutely refused to face forward. With his back to the bed, he couldn't help but berate his friend. "How could you, Phil? She killed Paul and me and all you can do is get your freak on."
"What the frick is that?" Phil screamed.
"What am I! What am I!" Al shouted as he turned, anger overriding his earlier reluctance to see Phil naked. "I was your best friend till you went and helped that bitch kill me."
Phil had managed to slip into his button down shirt, though it still hung open, and his boxer shorts were on, though his jeans hung limply from one hand. "Al?" he asked. Complete and utter disbelief colored his words.
Carrie, quicker to the draw, hissed, "I killed you. This isn't possible."
Al gestured to himself and snarled, "Well then, impossible is standing right in front of you, 'cause it's me, baby."
"Wait, what?" Phil asked as he turned toward Carrie. "You did what?"
The witch stood only feet away from Al, her black sheath dress outlining every trim inch of her. "Come on, Phil. You can't be that stupid. They were in my way so I took care of it."
Phil seemed to shrink back, distancing himself from the brunette. "They were in your way?"
The fact that his former friend was so obviously upset convinced Al that he wasn't responsible for what had happened. "She's a killer, Phil, and I'd bet money that you were next on her list."
"Don't listen to the pip-squeak, Philly. It's always been you." With a gesture toward her lush body she continued, "This was for you."
Phil edged closer to Al and questioned, "What do you mean for me? I never wanted you to hurt my friends." He turned to face Al for a moment before his voice dropped to a whisper, "To make Al a garden gnome."
Carrie stamped her foot, drawing Phil's attention back to her. "I didn't make him a gnome, I hit him with it. Bashed his brains in with that stupid piece of ceramic and then buried him in the dunes."
"But why, he was my friend?" Phil asked
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A surge of fury rushed through Carrie leaving her nearly breathless in its wake. Once again, Al was going to ruin everything. The first time he'd stuck his nose into her life, she'd nearly been too slow on the uptake to do damage control. Then the second time she'd been more in control, she'd known exactly what to do. Now, however, as he stood only feet away from her, appearing as that stupid gnome she found herself afraid everything was going to fall apart.
Al, she could deal with. It was obvious when she'd conked him over the head with the lawn ornament, his spirit had somehow become entrapped inside it. A good cleansing ritual and smashing him with a hammer would easily take care of her nightmare, but that didn't solve her dilemma with Phil. She'd fallen in love with Phil Similar five years ago when they'd attended Unami Junior High together. Back then Phil had been something of a catch and Carrie was little more than the geeky science girl that stared at him whenever she had the opportunity.
Once they'd moved on to high school, Carrie had become desperate to win Phil's love. With knowledge that she wasn't pretty enough to walk alongside the football star, she set out to find a way to become everything that Phil could ever want in a girl. Her search had led her to witchcraft. Cheaper than surgery and more effective than any cream or lotion, she'd quickly learned to create glamour's.
Determined to take her place beside Phil, Carrie sequestered herself for the entire summer between her junior and senior year in order to perfect her look. She worked on maintaining the playboy bunny body and model's face constantly until even she barely remembered the skinny, flat chested girl she'd once been.
She'd returned to school, citing a sudden surge in hormones and had gone on to take her place beside Phil. There she'd remained right through graduation and on to college. Then, Phil had seemed to tire of spending all his time with her. He'd begun to spend more time with his buddies, doing things that purposely excluded her.
Certain she'd lost him, she'd sat sullenly silent when Phil had announced that he and his friends were planning a road trip for the summer. That was the last straw. Determined to win back her lover's attention she'd begun plotting. Everything had been right on schedule, until Al had confessed to sleeping with her. Phil, whom she'd always been careful not to use her powers on, had been devastated, and the worst part is he blamed only Carrie. In a fit of rage, she'd cornered Al alone and had hit him with the first thing to come to hand, the stupid garden gnome the boys had been dragging around the countryside.
After disposing of Al, she'd staged a big blow-up in front of Phil, ensuring that he believed Al had taken off in shame. It had worked like a charm, at least up until Paul had confessed to seeing what she'd done. Luckily, Paul was even easier to deal with than Al. She'd slipped him a love potion and then had sat back and watched as he'd become totally under her spell. Convincing him last night that he couldn't live with her had been a cinch and he'd very kindly killed himself.
A spell would be the only way out now. With Al's cousins dealt with, Paul out of the way, and Al himself crushed to oblivion, she would be able to make Phil forget everything. "He was keeping us apart, Philly. I couldn't let him and Paul steal you away from me," she answered as she eyed the room, looking for something that would work against the interfering gnome.
"So you killed them?" Phil's eyes became awash in unshed tears.
Carrie snorted at the sight and waved a hand dramatically. "See that's exactly why they had to die. You were completely unreasonable when it comes to those two. I'm your best friend, you don't need them."
"She's a witch, Phil. She's got you under a spell. You can't trust anything she says," Al ground out.
"A witch. Really, Phil, I mean come on. Who are you going to trust the ceramic garden gnome come to life, or me, you're little honey bunny?"
"I'm thinking you oughta listen to the gnome, Phil," a deep voice replied. "Cause honey bunny's a witch."
"NO!" Carrie suddenly screamed as her gaze darted toward the tall man that stood in the shadow of the doorway. Though she couldn't fully make out his features, his stance was instantly recognizable. "I killed you. You can't be here."
"Oh, but I can," the man replied as he stepped into the bedroom. "You doing okay, Al?"
Trapped by the man's sudden appearance in the doorway, Carrie began sifting through all the spells she knew looking for one that would help.
"I'm good, Dean. Just getting ready to kick a little ass," Al replied as he began to roll up his long blue sleeves.
A smirk flitted across Dean's face as he held up one hand. "Not that I don't appreciate the effort, dude, but how about you leave this one up to the professionals. Now Sam!"
TBC
