A/N: Well... hello there. I do still exist, I promise- I've just had a lot on my plate and writing/typing my stories had be put on the back burner, for which I cannot apologise enough. But, as I have said, I will continue uploading this story, if it is a little slow.

Anyway, I'll tell you now that this chapter is a little gross, so anyone with an extremely weak stomach should probably give it a miss.

Let me know what you think :)

Enjoy!

It turned out that the job didn't involve a witch per-say, just some of her crap that had been left lying around after she'd died. Well, technically, it had been stolen by a group of teenagers who had broken into her abandoned house due to a lost bet.

The stolen item in question was an ornate broach made of pewter, welded in a way that resembled three grotesque looking monkeys. The first was covering its ears, the second was covering its eyes and the third was covering its mouth.

"The Three Wise Monkeys," Sam murmured. They'd searched the house the teenagers had broken into and found a box with a picture of the broach inside.

"What?" Dean asked, confused.

"The Three Wise Monkeys," Sam repeated. "You know, hear no evil, see no evil, speak no evil?"

Dean frowned. That's an actual thing?"

"Yes," Sam sighed. Then it was his turn to frown. "But I don't get it. This is supposed ward evil off. Not curse people."

"So, why the hell have we got teens being struck dumb, deaf and blind?"

Sam shrugged. "Maybe the kids who stole it tripped some kind of magical security alarm?"

Dean rolled his eyes. "Great. So how do we deal with the mess this curse has made?"

"Well, the witch who owned the broach could undo the damage."

"Well, she could, if she hadn't already been dead for years."

"Yeah, thanks for pointing that out Sherlock… I guess we could try finding her ? That might give us some kind of clue as to how to reverse it."

Dean groaned. "Not only are witches grossly disturbing and insanely creepy, they are also incredibly annoying!" It could take ages to-"

"Found it."

Dean looked at his little brother and saw he was holding a tattered, leather bound book in his hand. He grinned. "Piece of cake!"

Sam rolled his eyes and started flicking through the old pages until he found what he was looking for.

"Here. It mentions that, as well as the counter curse, 'casting the broach into purifying flames will also rid the victims of their misfortune'," Sam said.

"Huh? How the hell do we do that?"

"I guess it just means salt and burn it," Sam said.

Deans face dropped. "Are you kidding me? Are you freaking kidding me? We come on a witch hunt just to find that she's already dead, and then we find out we've gotta salt-and-burn her Goddamn broach!"

Sam could see his brother was about to explode. "Look, I'll do it myself, ok?"

Dean paused and took a breath. "Good… but first we've got to find the damn thing."

Sam rolled his eyes again, a 'thanks-a-bunch-captain-obvious' look all over his face. "Yeah, I know." Then a thought hit him. "I think we need to go and see that kid who can't talk."

"Uh, Sam?" Dean asked.

"Yeah?" Sam said as he made to leave the house, pocketing the picture of the broach in the process.

"He can't talk." Dean sounded like he was talking to a three year old. "How is he going to be able to answer your questions?"

Sam turned around and adopted a similar pattern of speech as Dean. "He can write what he has to say on paper. I'll ask him to name everyone involved and then I'll find out who has the broach and destroy it. A quick salt and burn and we'll be on our merry little way."

Dean thought it over. "Sounds good to me."

So they donned their suits, ready for an official 'fake police' interview. Well, Sam put on his suit. Dean had to sit on the side lines on the account of his belly being too big to fit in his formal attire, and he was insistent that he was never going to set foot inside a 'Tall 'n' Large' store again. So, he had to wait at the motel for Sam to finish asking a kid who couldn't talk a bunch of questions.

It had grown dark outside by the time Sam returned and Dean was dozing, one hand resting protectively on his stomach. The younger Winchester tried to be quiet, but as he opened the fridge for a drink, Dean jerked awake.

"Hey," Sam said softly, "didn't mean to wake you." He closed the fridge with two soda cans in hand. He handed one to Dean and opened the other.

"Don't worry about it," he said sleepily as he took the can. "Thanks."

Sam took a swig of his drink. "You'll be pleased to know that it's done."

Dean frowned. "Huh?"

"The curse is taken care of."
"Really?" Dean opened his own can and took a drink.

"Yeah, that kid who couldn't talk? He had the broach."

"He did?"

Sam nodded and took another swig. "He told me, well, wrote me, that he was going to go to the police and tell them what they'd done. The others didn't want him squealing about their breaking and entering and told him to keep his mouth shut 'or else'. But after he lost his voice, he found the broach, which was hidden in an old church, I think, and stole it."

"It took him this long to tell someone? Why didn't he go to the cops sooner?"

Sam shrugged. "I guess he didn't want to get himself into trouble as well."

"You take of the broach?"

"Yup. Extra crispy," Sam said. "And I checked on the rest of the kids who'd been affected and they seem to have made a full recovery."

"Well, at least we fried something," Dean said. "Just a pity it wasn't the witch herself." He drained the rest of his can.

Sam chuckled and took the empty can from his brother. "You and witches, man." He tossed the cans into the trash.

Dean shuddered. "I hate them!"

"Yeah, it's been said before."

"Hey, are you getting hungry?" Dean asked. He swung his legs round and sat on the edge of the bed.

"I could eat," Sam said. "What've you got in mind?"

Dean frowned thoughtfully. "I'm not sure." He mulled over their usual choices before a look of exasperation came over his face. "Oh, God."

Sam frowned. "What?"

"Ugh, I think… I think I'm having cravings."

Sam laughed. "What're you craving? Pickles and ice-cream?"

"No… I want ice-cream, just not with pickles."

"With what then?"

Dean shook his head. "I don't really know…" He thought for a few moments more before realisation dawned on his face. However, accompanying the look of realisation was a look of confused disgust. "Oh my God."

"What do you want?" Sam asked, a little hesitantly.

Dean shook his head incredulously then sighed. "Mince."

Sam frowned. "What?"

"Mince," Dean repeated.

"Mince?"

"Yeah."

"As in… hamburger mince?" Sam looked as confused and disgusted as Dean felt.

"Yup…" He pulled a face. "I want pork mince."

"Pork mince?" Sam could barely believe what he was hearing.

"Yeah."

"With ice-cream?"

"… Uh-huh."

"Do you… do you want it… cooked?"

Dean paused, battling with the spawn inside him and its infernal psychic connection, but he lost. "No."

Sam looked ill at the very thought of that insanely disgusting concoction. "So, you want raw pork mince, with ice-cream?"

"Vanilla ice-cream, yeah, and lets get one thing straight," Dean said quickly, "I do not want to eat this gross craving or whatever the hell this is!" He pointed to his stomach. "This thing wants it! I'd rather be sinking my teeth into a double bacon cheeseburger!"

Sam shuddered. "That sounds disgusting."

"Tell me about it," Dean complained, "I'm the one who's going o be eating it!"

"Well, technically, you don't have to eat it, right? I mean, its just a craving."

"Yeah, but I get the feeling that I'm going to get very cranky, very soon if this thing inside me doesn't get raw pork mince and ice-cream," Dean grumbled, the look of disgust still on his face.

Sam grimaced. "Great, mood swings."

"Yeah," Dean said, "and we both know it ain't a pretty sight when I'm in a bad mood."

"Right," Sam said. He quickly grabbed the car keys and made for the door. "Pork mince and vanilla ice-cream it is… I'm going to stick to Chinese."

"Good call," Dean said before Sam headed out of the motel and toward the nearest store to pick up the revolting concoction that made up the Stolax spawn craving.

Sam was gone for what seemed like hours, during which time Dean did some channel hopping and got a couple of kidney shots from the beast inside him.

He was on the verge of pacing the floor- the Stolax was wriggling and writhing non stop due to its craving going unfulfilled- when Sam walked in with bags of food.

"Dude! What took you so long?" Dean asked desperately.

Sam frowned. "I've only been gone for fifteen minutes."

"What? That can't be right." He turned to look at the clock behind him on the wall and saw that it was true. Dean groaned; it'd sure felt like a hell of a lot longer. "You get the stuff?"

"Yeah," Sam replied, holding one of the bags out for him.

"Thanks." Dean grabbed the bag with an enthusiasm that wasn't his own. He took it to the kitchen area and proceeded to grab a large bowl and a spoon.

"I'm gonna… eat this outside," Sam muttered, trying not to look at what his brother was about to eat.

"I don't blame you… No eating in the car!" Dean called after Sam as he headed quickly out the door.

As much as he wanted to check that Sam wasn't eating his greasy Chinese takeout in his car, the urge to combine and consume the mince and ice-cream was overwhelming.

He ripped the plastic wrap off the pack of meat and dumped it into the bowl, removing the strip of paper that was stuck to the bottom. Next, he opened the tub of ice-cream and added roughly the same amount to the bowl, so the mixture was about half and half. Taking the spoon, Dean mixed the ice-cream and mince together, until it looked like a stew, the ice-cream turned pale pink from the blood of the meat. Dean dipped the spoon into the bowl and brought it up again, full of the nauseating mixture.

This must be what it feels like to be possessed, Dean thought as he lifted the spoon to his lips and shovelled the contents into his mouth. He chewed and swallowed, then went back for more. I have no control! God knows I don't want to do this! He chewed another mouthful, feeling the soft, smooth strings of mince slide on his tongue and ease down in throat.

Every nerve in his body was screaming for him to stop, but the Stolax spawn's psychic connection prevented him from doing so, only allowing him to put down the spoon when the bowl was empty and its appetite was sated.

Dean stared at the bowl and waited for the inevitable wave of nausea to strike, to hit him full force. But it didn't. He placed a hand on his stomach and felt… nothing. No wriggling. No jabs or stabs… nothing.

"Ok," Dean muttered to himself as he picked up the bowl and spoon and dumped them in the sink. "I'm adding that to a long list of things I never want to do again."

Sam came in a few moments later, still chewing, while Dean was putting away the ice-cream. He threw away the remains of his takeout.

"Enjoy that?" Dean asked as he watched Sam lick his fingers.

"Yeah," he replied. "What about you? You enjoy your… whatever the hell it was?"

"Me? No. The Stolax? You bet." He shook his head. "It was beyond disgusting, but I couldn't stop myself."

"I am so glad I didn't have to watch you eat that crap."

"I wish I hadn't have had to watch myself eat that crap!" Dean shuddered then sighed. "At least this thing seems happy now- hasn't moved since I finished eating."

"Well, lets hope you don't have to eat it again, or at the very least, that often."

Dean shook his head. "Why would it want raw meat? I mean, I can kinda understand the ice-cream craving."

Sam nodded. "It's a source of calcium."

"Right. These suckers thrive on the stuff, but the raw meat?"

"Well…" Sam sighed. "When the Stolax is born, it usually eats the flesh of its host, as well as the bones."

"Right," Dean muttered as realisation dawned across his features. He sighed and rubbed his face.

"Hey," Sam said softly, "you're gonna be fine."

Dean looked at his younger brother and managed a small smile. "I know, Sammy. I'm just… a little tired."

"Ok. Um, we'll both get a good nights sleep, then hit the road in the morning. I think I read about a demonic possession a couple states over.

Dean nodded, heading toward his bed. "Sounds like a plan."

Hope it wasn't to nauseating for you to read lol. And just to clarify, I have no idea what the texture raw mince feels like (ew) so I just went with what I thought it'd feel like.

Hope you enjoyed it :)