*CHAPTER 11*
Dean had made acquaintance with a handful of different forest creatures as he sat there and waited impatiently. It seemed that the local critters had taken a liking towards him. (Currently, something resembling a small deer was grazing at the far end of his 'cage'.) What Dean hadn't seen were any people.
What or whom he was waiting for, he didn't know. Whether it be his unseen captor, Sam, or hell, even their father at this point, he didn't care. – Peter Pan could come save his sorry ass for all he cared. – He just wanted out.
Dean wrapped his fingers around a handful of grass. He yanked it out of the ground, the dirt from the small bundle of roots falling into his lap. As he stared down at it, Dean wondered if plants felt pain. And then he chuckled to himself. That was something his nerdy geek of a brother would ask. He chucked the clump of greens aside and dusted his fingers off on his leg. As he did, Dean narrowed his eyes when a slight pain flared up behind his right eye. He tried to shake it off – his headache had been one persistent son of a bitch – but it didn't let up; it only got worse. Suddenly, it exploded like the goddamned Fourth of July, the pain becoming so intense that it sent Dean down to the ground where he curled into the fetal position.
The 'deer' that had been so gracefully chewing on bits of grass fled at the sound of his anguished cry.
Sam wasn't really sure what he was doing, but he did his best to relax his mind and let Splendorman delve in and do what he needed to do. He could feel his most intimate memories being poked and prodded at. It was like the creature was grasping at the connection he and Dean had. It was uncomfortable letting someone in like that, but he didn't have a choice.
For a split second, Sam felt Splendorman's concentration break, his touch slipping. During that brief moment, he could almost feel Dean. Something was happening to his brother, something not good. Sam's heart rate began to race. "Dean!"
"He is starting to remember," he heard Splendorman's voice say in his head. "We must hurry."
The creature's 'touch' suddenly felt different; there was more pressure and then something broke. Pain flooded Sam's mind; he tried to hold back, but he cried out as he felt the arms around him tighten.
And then the world tilted and fell away.
The pain lasted less than a minute, but it took Dean several more to gather himself afterwards. Slowly, the lines of tension on the hunter's features relaxed and Dean's breathing evened out. His heartbeat steadied and he risked opening his eyes.
That was when he realized…his memories were sliding back into place.
They weren't all there yet, but he was remembering bits and pieces of a motel room, not the one in Fullerton but another; he was remembering diners and the open highway. He remembered Sam being hurt, remembered stitching him up, but he couldn't remember why he had been stitching him up.
He pushed himself up with shaky arms and sat back, rubbing at the lingering ache behind his temples. The hunter began to dig at that dark, empty void in his mind. Dean knew there was more there, but the center of it all was still eluding him. Whatever it was, he knew it was important that he get to it.
Sam would have fallen to the ground if not for the tight hold Splendorman had on him. But he still had to keep his eyes closed for a moment longer until things settled into up and down, the sense of vertigo fading slowly. He wasn't sure if he was more shaken up from the trip or the Vulcan mind meld he'd just endured.
"Sam." It was the Fae's voice, soft and comforting. "Are you well?"
"Yeah. Yeah, I think so. But I don't think I'm gonna want to do that again for a while."
The tinkle of several bells sounded and Sam felt Splendorman's tentacles releasing their hold on him. The hunter was embarrassed that he actually had to hold onto the creature a moment longer until he felt he had his sea legs under him.
"We're here, Sam. Turn around."
Sam squinted at the brightness of their surroundings. Faerie land. Everything was surreal, too perfect. But he didn't pay much attention to the alien world because not more than a few hundred feet away, he saw Dean. The man's back was to him, so he hadn't noticed them yet, but it was definitely the elder Winchester. And he looked okay, albeit a little pissed. (Sam could see that from the set of the man's shoulders.)
"Does he remember anything?" he asked, worried about how much memory Dean had actually lost.
"I cannot say. The passage affects everyone differently. – Come, we must hurry. I can feel my brother's nearness." Splendorman reached out and took Sam by the elbow and pulled the young man towards Dean. It didn't take much persuasion to get the hunter moving.
Dean kicked angrily at the toadstools. The rest of his memory was there; he knew it. He was so damn close, but it just wouldn't surface.
The hunter yelled out and swung a fist into the side of his prison in frustration. And, fuck, that hurt.
"Dean!"
Dean's right eyebrow lifted at the familiar, but unexpected voice calling to him; his moss green eyes widened as he turned his head. "Sam?"
The younger hunter was moving through the trees; he was shadowed by some kind of creature. It was tall and spindly looking, topping Sam's sasquatch height by at least another foot or two. And the fucking thing had a polka-dot suit on with a freaking stovepipe hat.
"Dean! Are you okay?" Sam picked up his pace as he crossed that final distance to Dean's cage.
"No, Sam, stop! Don't come near it." Dean raised his hands up and pressed them, palm side out, against the unseen barrier. "This thing's a one-way street for us; there's no exits, dude." All he needed was for Sam to get his lanky ass stuck in there with him; then they'd both be screwed.
"A faerie ring," the tall creature commented when he came to a stop next to Sam. "He's right, Sam. It's best if you don't go near it."
"Can't you break it?" his brother asked the creature.
"It can only be broken when the moons are up." It looked up and considered the position of the sun. "They will not rise for several more hours."
Dean watched as Sam glanced between the stranger, himself, and the ring of off-white mushrooms encircling him. Whoever/whatever this thing was, his brother seemed to trust it. "Hey, I hate to break up the May-September bromance you two've got brewin', but does someone wanna tell me what's going on? It seems like my memory's been hijacked."
The comment received a much missed bitch face from his brother. But before Sam could offer an explanation, the creature stepped around Sam and approached him.
"I've come here to help, Dean," it said.
"Really?" Dean eyed the polka-dots and attempted to suppress the sarcasm that was lingering at the tip of his tongue. Maybe Sam didn't have a problem working with something that looked like a circus freak, but Dean certainly did. "Well, since I'm still stuck in here, I'd say Cage: 1, You: 0." Well, okay, maybe the sarcasm won. He was only human.
The being looked at Dean, its dark eyes piercing, almost unsettling. "I need you to let me in."
Dean lifted an eyebrow. The blue flower pinned at the creature's lapel drew his attention briefly before he looked up to meet its steady gaze. He didn't get what the thing was asking for. "What, you wanna come in here? Sorry to disappoint you, pal, but you're not exactly what I'm looking for in a bunk buddy."
"Dean, really?"
Dean snapped his gaze over to Sam. "What? He asked if he could come in. What else am I supposed to say? He's your friend. - And I don't know, Sammy. I leave you alone for five minutes and this is what you bring home. Seriously?" Dean backed away from the 'wall' and crossed his arms over his chest, still not sure what to make of things.
"Dammit, Dean! He's here to…" Sam clammed up suddenly and then looked to the creature again. He appeared uncertain, almost a little worried. His apprehensive look got Dean's attention. The kid was hiding something.
"Sam, what aren't you telling me?"
"Just let him in, okay?" Sam pleaded.
"Dude, where?" And then Dean felt it, something in his mind. He blinked and looked at the tall creature; it was looking intently at him. He shook his head, feeling violated all of a sudden.
"Dean, calm down. You have to let him do this." Dean heard Sam's voice, but it was being drowned out by white noise which began to fill his head. Another round of pain was starting to claw at his mind.
"Get…outta…my…head!" The hunter's words were slurred as he fell to his knees. It felt like something was shredding his brain. He barely heard Sam's acquaintance saying something about it being too late…an apology. Dean cried out as a bright, white light flashed behind his closed eyelids.
"Dean!"
"Sam, you must listen to me," Splendorman spoke calmly even as Dean continued to cry out and writhe on the ground. "Sam!"
Sam reluctantly pulled his eyes away from his brother. The man was in pain and there was nothing he could do. "What?" His jaw was slack, anxiety filling his hazel eyes. It was killing him not to be able to go to Dean, to help him through whatever was going on.
"I believe I have found out what is keeping them connected."
"Wait, what?"
Sam didn't think the creature had had enough time to do what he needed to. He quickly glanced at Dean who was now pressed up against the inside of the invisible wall, shoulders heaving as he panted. The man's fingers were clenched tightly in his short hair. Sam could hear soft, pained whimpers – fucking whimpers for crying out loud – falling from between the his lips.
"He's scared, Sam. He needs to rid himself of that fear and take control of the situation. Once he does, he will be able to sever the link my brother has created between them. If he cannot do so, then there is no hope for him."
That made no sense at all to Sam. Dean had said he wasn't scared of Slendy and he believed him. As a matter of fact, the older hunter had put himself out there to protect Sam. He was here, in this position, because of Sam. Then it clicked.
"Oh, god." The words came out on a whisper. "He's scared for me…"
Sam looked over to Dean. The man was still crumpled in on himself; he looked so small and fragile. When he turned his worried gaze back up to Splendorman, the creature nodded.
"Christ. What can I do?"
"Nothing, I'm afraid. It's up to Dean to overcome this. Come, let me show you something while there is still some time yet. It may help if you see what I'm speaking of." He removed the pristine glove from his left hand revealing more pale flesh and lifted his unnaturally long fingers up towards Sam's face. "May I? It will not hurt."
Sam chewed on the corner of his lip, but hell, he was in this deep already. Why not? "Do whatever you need to."
The hunter watched the Fae's hand move toward him until the cold, dry fingers alighted gently upon his forehead. Contrary to the coolness of the lengthy digits, Sam could feel warmth spread into his skin beneath their touch; a mild tingle accompanied the sensation.
"There," Splendorman said as he pulled his hand away moments later and slipped his glove back on. "It's temporary and will wear off shortly, but it will allow you to see."
Sam was just starting to open his mouth to ask about what he was meant to see, but he wasn't gifted with the time to ask.
The smile fell from Splendorman's face all of a sudden and his features became pinched. "It is too late. He is here." The Fae lifted a hand up to the side of his head and stumbled slightly. Sam instinctively reached out to help steady him, even if the creature was closer to eight feet tall than to Sam's six and a half.
Shit! The hunter turned his head to scan the shadows; they seemed to have lengthened in just the short time since they'd arrived. He didn't see anyone. Briefly, he glanced over to Dean. The man was still in the same position as he'd been in since going down. Not good, but he was still alive and breathing.
"Are you-"
Sam's question fell off when he looked back up at the creature next to him; his steadying hand, which was still on the being's arm, immediately reached around to the small of his back, grasping for his gun.
Slenderman was there alright. And Sam was staring up at him.
Gone were the colorful polka-dots; gone were the mouth, the eyes, and the absurd top hat. What the fuck? Sam's mind was trying to catch up with what was blatantly right in front of him as he brought his gun up and level.
Splendorman was Slenderman? No, they couldn't be; they were too different. Sam couldn't – wouldn't – accept that. But his hand had been on the creature the whole time. It's not like one left and the other just showed up. It wasn't possible.
Another second passed and it only took that brief moment for the hunter to understand what was happening. They were two beings rolled into one; the good and the evil; the hot and the cold; the right and the wrong; the safe and the deadly.
Splendorman had needed Dean to conquer his fear so he could keep Slendy at bay. It was a battle of wills – and power – and Dean was the Thin Man's ace in the hole, so to speak. Dean's fear was allowing Slenderman to overcome the essence that was Splendorman. The evil was able to force down the good.
Since Slenderman was back, that meant...
"Sammy?" Dean's weak voice came from the faerie ring.
Without thinking about the consequences, Sam turned to look at his brother. He could see Dean was still out of it. Whatever had happened had put him through the wringer. As he was taking in the older hunter's current state, Sam's gaze fell to a delicate thread of glittering silver running directly to the man. Okay, now what the hell is that? His eyes followed the length of it across the space between them; it ended at Slenderman.
The link. It was a goddamned physical connection. Splendorman had been talking in literal terms.
Dean's memories came flooding back and the intensity of being hit with them all at once had him nearly blacking out. But, god, he remembered everything now. Slendy had come back. But why? What had caused him to show up all of a sudden? The last few times he'd seen the creature, it had been due to some emotionally charged situation, like Sam leaving for Stanford. Nothing like that had happened recently.
The gears in Dean's brain churned through the events of the past couple of months. He'd been running non-stop since their father had disappeared. Dean had selfishly pulled Sam back into the fray to help look for the man and, because of that, the youngest Winchester had nearly gotten killed…on several occasions, the last of which had almost been at the hands of a goddamned shifter – one that had taken Dean's form, no less – down in St. Louis.
Dean had been balancing precariously on the narrow edge of a precipice lately with his emotions, his footing less than steady. Hell, he might as well have just sent an invitation out to Slenderman, giving him a time and place to meet up.
When he finally pulled himself together, Dean looked up from where he had been huddled on the ground, curled in on himself like some wrecked and broken thing; it was discomfiting, a hunter like himself to be in that position. And his damn head, it was still pounding with the same relentless headache he'd had for days now. Awesome.
His self-pity instantly fell away when the scene around him shifted into focus. Sam and the Thin Man were standing outside of his cage – Where had the other guy gone? – and his brother looked more than a little shaken up as he held his Taurus up between himself and the creature.
Dammit. What the hell was Sam doing with a gun? They'd gone over this. Guns don't work! But then Dean saw the iron dagger tucked in the younger man's belt. Sam had figured it out. Dean suddenly knew then that those weren't regular rounds in the Taurus. But it was still too dangerous. They didn't know for sure that cold iron would work.
"Sammy…" Dean meant the put a little more force behind the name; he wanted to tell the younger man to run, to get out of there, but his energy was sapped. He just needed some time to pull himself together, time he clearly didn't have.
Upon hearing his name, Sam turned to look at Dean and their eyes locked briefly. Then his brother frowned and a look of curiosity spread over his tense features. Sam's gaze left Dean as he appeared to be looking at something that Dean obviously wasn't seeing.
Whatever it was, Dean didn't have time to try to figure it out. Slenderman was too close to his brother and he wasn't about to sit there helplessly as the creature ripped the kid apart…or worse. He pressed up to his feet, only his willpower keeping him upright, and he began push and hammer at the wall of his prison, trying to draw the Thin Man's attention away from Sam and towards himself. "Hey, Chuckles! Over here!"
It worked. Dean could feel its gaze shift to him and he shivered.
"Dean, my child, I am pleased to see you are feeling better." Dean couldn't help but jump when the words slipped so seamlessly into his mind; the insincerity of the statement was only too evident. "You've gotten your memory back, and it didn't take long at all. That's good." Slenderman might not have a mouth to smile with, but Dean could feel the twisted glee.
Dean didn't bother replying. Now that he had its attention, he yelled to his brother. "Sam, you gotta get outta here!"
"No, Dean!" Sam did take several steps away from the Thin Man though. Even for the most experienced hunter, too close was too close.
Dean let out an exasperated groan. Sam was showing the true Winchester colors.
"Dean, this is the end, don't you see? It will all be over soon." Slenderman adjusted his gaze from Dean to Sam, and then back. The creature hadn't moved, but Dean could somehow tell that that's what he did. "I will break you, piece by piece, starting with him, and then I will kill you." The voice felt cold and lethal in Dean's head.
"Dean, listen to me. Splendorman-" At least this time Sam was keeping his eyes on the Thin Man. Unfortunately, it didn't help with what happened in the next instant.
One of Slenderman's tentacles lashed out before Sam could finish what he was saying. It wrapped around the barrel of his gun quicker than the hunter could react. Sam barely got his left hand over to his right to fight to keep his hold on the weapon as it suddenly discharged in the scuffle, its report deafening. The shot went wide as the weapon was torn from his grip and then was thrown aside, far out of reach.
"No!" Dean's furious glare met with the creature standing in front of his brother as he threw himself into the barrier preventing him from going to Sam's aid; he ignored the pain that blossomed along his side. "Leave him alone, you son of a bitch!"
Another snaking arm stopped in midair, the end of it still weaving slowly back and forth over Sam's head, its threat looming. Slenderman slowly tilted his head and looked at Dean. "My brother, what has he told you?"
Dean's eyes shot over to Sam. The younger man was ducking down, left arm raised over his head in protection. That thing had been Slendy's brother? Shit, what did Sam know? "Nothing. I don't know what the hell you're talking about."
Sam risked a look at Dean from under his arm. "Dean, what's he-"
A tentacle snapped out and grazed the thin skin of Sam's neck, causing the younger hunter to yelp in surprise. "Do not lie to me!" The Thin Man's other writhing appendages were starting to look agitated.
Dean tensed when he saw the bright crimson trickling down his brother's neck. Slenderman was toying with them. The creature knew there was nothing they could do. It didn't even bother trying to restrain Sam who was wiping at the blood oozing from his wound with the back of his hand.
There was no right answer. Dean couldn't give the Thin Man what he wanted. And because of that, Sam was going to pay the price. He slammed the side of his fist into the wall and huffed out a defeated breath. "I don't know… C'mon, just let him go. You've got me."
"Oh, but that would be no fun, Dean."
Sam saw the fear in Dean's eyes. And this situation wasn't helping matters. He had blinked and his gun was gone, tossed aside to the ground too far away to get to. Sam was about to get his ass handed to him…again. How was he supposed to get Dean to get a grip now?
From the look his brother had given him earlier, the thread/link wasn't visible to Dean. If Sam understood Splendorman correctly, the only way his brother would be able to see it was if he manned up and took control away from Slendy.
The hardest part in all of this was going to get Dean to stem his fear so he could get that control, something which the elder Winchester was perfectly capable of when he was in hunter mode; the man was a force to be reckoned with when he was in that mindset. Dean was going to need a shove in that direction. Sam knew his brother would kill him when he found out – there was no question of 'if'; Dean would find out – but that didn't matter, not right now.
The creature's attention was still on Dean for the moment. Sam took advantage of the distraction, dropping his hand down to his side. His now bloody fingers clasped around the handle of the iron dagger and he drew it out, keeping his eyes focused on his foe and the six tentacles weaving dangerously above its shoulders. – Sam's neck stung like a bitch, reminding him all too well of what they were capable of. – He began to talk as he tried to figure out how to get Dean where he needed to be.
"Dean?" he called out.
"What, Sam?"
"You remember what I said back at the room?" Sam asked as he kept an eye on Slenderman, not sure when the creature was going to lash out at him again. He expected it at any second. Sam could tell it didn't want him and Dean talking, but he had to take his chances.
"Which part? You said a lot. And really, this isn't the best time for a conversation, dude."
Sam watched the Fae in front of him. He wasn't sure which was easier to look at, Splendorman's face-splitting grin and dark, penetrating eyes or Slendy's faceless and empty mask; they both had their downsides.
"Sam came so willingly, Dean. The connection you two have is unfathomable. It will be my greatest feat tearing that asunder as you watch Sam die before your eyes; you powerless to stop it."
Dean tried to concentrate on Sam even as he shivered from the threat. Slenderman could threaten him all he wanted, but not Sam.
"Fuck off," he grumbled to the creature as he tried to keep his concentration on Sam.
"Dean!"
His brother was intent on having this conversation, whatever it was. "What?"
"Are you listening to me?"
"Sam, I'm trying to, but he's in my damn head."
"I'm going to start by tearing out his liver, his heart-"
"Dean!"
"-and you're going to watch. When I'm through with him-"
"Dean, listen to me. You gotta take his power away. You have to-"
"-I'm going to render you to pieces. Remember our last time together Dean? That was only the beginning. I have so much more planned for you."
Dean was trying hard to listen to Sam, but Slendy kept pushing into his head; he was having a difficult time paying attention to two conversations at once. If he didn't know better, he'd think the Thin Man was trying to keep him from hearing what his brother had to say. Whatever Sam knew, it must be pretty damn important.
He forced himself to look at his brother. "How, Sam? I told you I'm not scared of him. The only thing that's scaring me is him hurting you. And right now, Sammy, I gotta tell you, it ain't looking good."
"Then you need to take control!" Sam yelled over his shoulder as he took a fucking step towards the creature. What the hell was he doing? "Be a hunter, Dean! Do what you were trained to do!"
Sam's movement – or his words – set Slenderman into motion. Before either Winchester could blink, a thick coil speared into the thick muscle of Sam's thigh. Sam cried out as he stumbled to one knee and Dean hollered as he watched his brother go down.
"Sammy!" Dean's skin flushed with fury. And it wasn't just directed at the Thin Man. He knew Sam wasn't stupid. His brother had put himself out there for a reason, and now he was at the mercy of that thing. "Goddammit! You leave him alone, you son of a bitch!"
"Dean, you have to sever the link between the two of you," Sam ground out through gritted teeth as he tried to breathe through the pain. "There's a- Fuck!" He screeched as the tentacle in his thigh twisted, slicing further into muscle, effectively cutting him off. Wide, pain-filled eyes met with Dean's. But something else was there, too…a glimmer of knowledge.
That look confirmed Dean's suspicions. "Sammy!" Fuck, Dean was gonna kill Sam when they got through this, pulling crazy shit like that. That was Dean's job. Dean could only look on helplessly as another looping coil wrapped around his little brother and began to constrict like some giant freaking anaconda.
"Dean! – You- – Shit! – You have to cut it!" Sam was being lifted from the ground now; his breaths were coming in short bursts as he fought for air against Slenderman's crushing grip. He fought, but his strength was no match for the creature.
Yeah, okay. Dean could do this. He could take the power away from Slendy. All he needed was a plan. Yeah, that was all. Simple as pie. "C'mon, Dean. Think, man. Pull yourself together," Dean said to himself, taking deep breaths and gathering himself. The only time he'd ever really gone up against this thing, he'd lost…and he'd lost badly. If he was going to get them out of this, he was going to have to dig his heels in…hard.
Dean was trying to figure out what Sam was going on about. What link? The kid was talking like there was something actually connecting him to Slendy, like they were tethered together somehow. Dean frowned in thought. His eyes fell down to where Sam was looking earlier; there was nothing there, not that he could see. Anyway, this was Dean's deal. How could Sam see something Dean couldn't? Unless the creature Sam had been buddy buddy with earlier, Slendy's brother, had done something…which now that Dean thought about it, was entirely possible. Sam was Sam after all; he'd pulled some weird shit off in the past.
But it didn't matter if Sam had figured things out, not if Dean was stuck in this godforsaken cage. – Dean didn't even realize it, but he was pacing angrily back and forth along the wall closest to Sam as he weeded through the meager info he had at his disposal. – The answer to his problem was soon delivered to him on a silver platter. Well, actually, it landed right at his feet.
"Dean!"
Dean looked up from where he was studying the mushrooms at his feet, wishing for laser vision to fry them all to hell, only to see Sam still struggling against Slenderman's tight hold. The glint of the iron blade in his brother's hand caught Dean's eye. Suddenly, with a flick of his wrist, Sam tossed the knife in Dean's direction.
Dean watched as the weapon slid across the ground and nicked a couple of the toadstools before coming to rest, half in and half out of the 'wall' of the faerie ring. Where it stopped, he could see what could only be described as a fissure in the unseen barrier. Dean almost smiled. Leave it to Sam and that big geek brain of his to figure that out.
Not wasting any time, Dean stooped down to pick up the knife. He had to work a little at getting a grip on it to pull it through; his thick fingers had a hard time getting a hold of the tiny bit of blade sticking out on his side of the barrier. He ignored the sharp pinch of pain when the well-honed blade sliced into his index finger. With a growl, he finally got a good enough grip on it and tugged it through.
He hacked at the mushrooms quickly, trying to ignore the tacky feel of Sam's blood coating the handle, and Dean allowed himself to grin as the wall started to crumble. Apparently, cold iron worked on all things Fae. He was going to have to keep that in mind for future use.
"De-!" Sam's voice was choked off as Slenderman tightened a coil around his neck. His long legs kicked out beneath him, blood soaking the denim of his right pant leg.
"Hang on, Sammy." Dean forced down his personal emotions and slid into hunter mode. His expression hardened as he forced his concentration on the monster and not Sam. Slenderman was just like any other evil piece of shit. If Dean could take him down – and he would – this whole affair would be all over. Dean had to draw in the reins and put an end to this.
"Hey, you!" Dean yelled as he strode brazenly out of the grassy circle of his former confinement, trying to draw the Thin Man's attention away from his brother once more. It worked. Slendy slowly looked over Sam's shoulder at Dean. "Yeah, I'm talking to you, asshole. This ends now."
"My child, you cannot harm me. As long as you fear me, I have won."
"Yeah, about that… You can shove your 'fear' right up where the sun don't shine." Dean felt Slenderman press against his mind. This time he smiled because he knew what the creature was going to find: the strength and fortitude of a hunter, something Sam had to remind him was still there, even in the presence of the Thin Man. Dean wasn't going to let Slendy control him anymore. "Yeah, all these years I let you drag me around like an obedient little puppy on a leash, but I've got you figured out. The leash has been in my hand the whole time. I control you. You have no power over me!" And, god, if saying that didn't make him feel like he was in a cheesy Jim Henson movie.
"NO! YOU ARE MINE!"
With those words, the creature viciously tossed Sam aside – Dean heard the solid hit his brother took as he collided hard with a tree and landed in a still heap on the ground – and then he struck out at Dean.
"Not anymore," Dean growled. He was ready for the attack and slashed out at several tentacles as they surged at him. Slenderman never made an outward sound, but Dean could hear the scream of pain in his mind every time the iron blade connected with flesh and he relished in the sound. "I'm not gonna let you hurt me or Sam anymore. This is over now." He side-stepped one of the lengthy appendages as it stabbed out at him with an inhuman viciousness. "I'm done with you and your shit." The words fell from his mouth even as he was becoming overwhelmed by the serpentine arms.
A wicked and unsettling laugh filled Dean's head. "I can't agree with you more, hunter. This DOES end now."
Dean dropped down and rolled away as the swarming arms became too much for him. He risked a glance at Sam, but his brother was still down for the count. The hunter forced himself to empty his mind of any worry; the only things he allowed in were what Slenderman had done to him over the years. He let his hatred for the creature drive him forward as he launched into another attack.
"You will always be my favorite, Dean. I will be sorry to see you go."
Before Dean knew it, a tentacle had lashed out and secured itself around his ankle. It threw him off-balance and he crashed down to the ground, landing hard on his left side, elbow getting jarred in the process as he tried to protect his broken ribs. Three more were reaching towards him as he felt himself being pulled towards Slenderman. He bent over, intent on hacking at the coil looped around his leg when he saw it: a thin filament, almost invisible to the naked eye, caught just right in the light; energy pulsed through it, giving it a life of its own. He couldn't see exactly where the line was attached to him, but it ran from him to Slendy. A fucking supernatural umbilical cord. Gross, Dean thought. Sam had said he had to sever the link. What else could that be?
"Say goodbye, Dean."
Dean grinned. Yeah, a 'goodbye' was in order, just not the one Slendy was looking for. As one of the looming tentacles darted out to wrap around Dean's neck, the hunter ducked and swung the knife down. "Syanara, mother fucker!" A foul screech filled his head when the connection was cut; the blade slipped from his fingers as he automatically pressed his hands to his ears trying to block it out. The pressure building up in his head was a million times worse than the worst headache and Dean's scream nearly matched that of the one in his skull.
As he fought against the black dots invading the edges of his vision, Dean thought he saw Sam starting to stir. But it was too much and he felt the blessed depths of unconsciousness coming up to claim him.
Dean may have been imagining things, but just before the darkness swept in, he could have sworn he saw a smiling face in front of him…the press of soft cotton against his cheek. "Thank you, Dean," it said quietly as he slipped away.
A few moments later, a shot rang out, but Dean wasn't around to hear it.
"Hey, Dean. You in there?"
"Leave me 'lone, Sammy." Dean turned over on the bed and pulled the pillow up over his head. When it was yanked away, he rolled over to glare up at Sam. What was his problem this morning? "Dude, really. Tryin' to get some sleep here."
"God, they said you were going to be messed up for a while, but… Dean, d'you remember anything?"
Dean tried to process what Sam was saying; the fog of sleep hadn't quite fully lifted yet. Shit. He sat up in the bed and rubbed the sleep from his eyes. Looking around the motel room, Dean frowned.
At Dean's nonplussed look, Sam smiled, but he still didn't offer up anything.
Dean rubbed at his left elbow; it was tender to the touch. What had happened hadn't been a dream then. (He didn't even want to think about the hit his ribs had taken.) One other thing he noticed, too, was that he seemed to be free of his nagging headache and the fever that came along with it. What a fucking relief that was. Dean was literally sick of being sick.
"Sammy, at least give me a clue. How'd we end up here…from there?"
"We did it." Sam's smile grew until his dimples nearly blinded the older man. "He's dead, Dean."
Dean blinked, stunned, and then he looked down at his hands which were resting on the blue and brown comforter covering the lower half of his body. He was dead. The hunter could feel hot tears of relief begin to flood his eyes, but he wiped at them before he looked back up, gaze falling to some random point on the wall in front of him.
"Hey, Dean, y'okay?" Sam asked when Dean didn't reply.
Dean could see his brother's hand come up hesitantly, but it stopped before coming to a rest on his arm. Instead, it fell away. He knew from past experience that Sam wouldn't be sure how he'd react to the gesture. (Dean just wasn't as touchy-feely as Sam was.)
"Yeah, just, um," he cleared his throat, "you think you could give me a minute?"
Dean felt the mattress shift as Sam got up from where he'd been perched next to him on his bed. "Sure. Just let me know if you need anything, alright?" Dean only nodded as he heard Sam's socked footsteps move away from him, giving him the time and space he needed to take everything in.
He was dead. Holy shit it was over. After all those years… Dean blew out a shuddering breath. It was just so hard to believe.
After a long and silent while, Dean spoke up. Something Sam had said earlier had him curious. "You said 'they'..." Sam was sitting at the small table in the corner and looked up from an old book he was diligently taking notes from. "Who exactly are 'they'?" Dean glanced around the room, half-expecting to see someone other than just the two of them.
Sam set his pen down on his notebook and turned to face Dean. "Faeries."
"Oh, okay." He paused. Shit, did he just say faeries? "You mean real winged-faeries, like, fucking Oberon and Titania?" At Dean's stunned, wide-eyed look, Sam grinned. A heartbeat passed and then Dean asked with a shameless smirk, "Dude, was she hot?" He waggled an eyebrow.
Dean's reaction caused Sam to laugh. He was amazed at how easily his brother could just slip back into 'Dean' mode after what they'd just been through. He shook his head 'no'. "Sorry, I don't think two simple humans were important enough for them to come out and introduce themselves. But, if it makes you feel any better, I did get to meet Puck."
"Who?"
Sam got up from the table and headed into the kitchenette to get Dean a glass of water. He was sure his brother could use it. "Puck. Oberon's second," he replied over his shoulder as he pulled a tumbler down from the cabinet and ran the tap at the sink. "Lieutenant, I guess you could call him." Sam came back into the room and handed Dean the glass of water. He watched as the man chugged most of it down in several large gulps.
"Wasn't he like some pain in the ass in Shakespeare or something?" Dean asked after he wiped his mouth off with the back of his hand and set the glass down on the nightstand between the two beds.
The younger man lifted an eyebrow as he took a seat on his own bed. Dean knew Shakespeare? "Something you want to tell me, Professor?" he asked with a barely concealed smile.
"Shut up. I read." At Sam's scrutinizing frown, he backed down with a conceding smile. "Okay, maybe the CliffsNotes version."
Sam was packing the last of their bags into the car the next morning. He and Dean had discussed their next move over a small breakfast of coffee and doughnuts; they had agreed to finish their trip to Pastor Jim's place. After the events of the past week or so, both men needed some downtime and since the man was already expecting them, it wouldn't hurt to take him up on his offer of a place to stay.
As Sam closed the trunk lid, he thought over the events of yesterday. Or was it several days ago? Time didn't make a whole lot of sense between the Fae realm and Earth.
…Three days ago (Fae time) / One day ago (Earth time)…
Sam groaned as he started to come around. Fucking tree. – Lately, it always seemed like he was getting thrown into things…tombstones, walls; you name it. – It took a little bit of time to shake off the weight of painful consciousness bearing down on him. (Every wound in his body was reminding him of how alive he still was.) Dean's sudden infuriated yell helped bring him back to what was going on in the present and Sam opened his eyes.
His brother was fighting with Slenderman, but things weren't looking like they were in the older Winchester's favor. Dean was being dragged across the ground on his ass by the thick loop of deadly tentacle wrapped around his ankle. Crap.
"Hang on, Dean." Sam had to do something before the man ended up impaled by one of those things.
He looked around for something to use as a weapon. Not more than a dozen feet away, his Taurus lay discarded on the ground. He found out that it might as well have been ten times that when he went to stand up. Sam's right leg buckled under him, unable to hold his weight. He grit his teeth, biting back the cry of pain.
So Sam crawled.
It took too long to reach his gun. By the time Sam had it in hand, cocked, aimed, and ready to fire, he saw Dean slash out at something near his foot. Sam could only guess that it was the thread binding his brother to Slendy. (Apparently, his ability to see the thing had worn off while he was out.) Sam knew he was lucky not to have gotten killed by doing what he'd done, but it was the only way to get Dean to buck up and go all 'hunter' on Slenderman. His brother had stopped cowering and had finally taken control back once Sam had put himself in the proverbial line of fire. Thank god. And now their connection had been severed.
Things were looking up…or were they?
Sam was startled when the knife fell from Dean's hand and the man began to scream; it sounded as if he was dying. His brother covered his ears and curled in on himself, eyes scrunched tightly closed, much in the same manner as before when he'd been in the faerie ring.
Sam wanted to go to him, but there was the matter of Slenderman who was still towering over his brother. He brought his aim back up to the creature; a head shot or a shot to the heart would probably do the trick now that the link between it and Dean was broken. But Sam stilled when the figure of the Thin Man shimmered and suddenly the creature morphed into the familiar form of Splendorman, right down to the brightly colored polka-dots and top hat.
The creature crouched down and tentatively brought a hand up to Dean's cheek. Something Sam couldn't hear was said to his brother and then the Fae stood up. Splendorman turned to look at Sam. When their eyes met, Sam felt the creature trying to get into his mind and he allowed it in without hesitation.
"Do it. You must kill me," he heard. "It's the only way. I see that now."
Sam pulled the trigger; the bullet hit its mark.
And that had been the end of Dean's decades of torture. The younger hunter hadn't wavered in taking the shot at the time, but after the fact, he'd felt conflicted about what he'd done. Sam had felt genuine goodness in Splendorman. The creature had given its life to save Dean, and more than likely, others as well.
The rift in the curtain between their two worlds had caused a disturbance that the Fae could feel and a contingent of guards was sent to check on it. When they approached the scene, their leader leapt lightly down from his horse and stepped over to where the still form of Splendorman lay. He glanced over to Sam and then down to Dean. He didn't say anything as he came over and knelt down across from the younger hunter.
Sam eyed the man surreptitiously. He was willowy, maybe about Sam's height, and dressed in varying shades of silver, gray, and green; well-worn leather boots reached up to his knees. His dark, almost black, hair was swept back from his face and tied at the nape of his neck with a leather strip. The man's features were striking – flawless – as would be expected of a Fae creature. Sam's trained eye moved down to the deadly looking sword sheathed at the man's side and then to the wooden bow strapped across his back. (He could see the golden fletching of the arrows in his quiver peeking up over his right shoulder.) – The hunter was sure this creature wasn't someone to be trifled with. – Sam's eyes widened in wonderment when he caught the glimmer of a pair of translucent wings; he hadn't noticed them before.
Sam remained quiet as the Fae placed a hand to Dean's brow and held it there for a moment. When he looked up, Sam met his gray eyes; they were flecked with varying shades of lavender and gold. He had never seen anything like them before.
"My brother…can you help him? I don't know what's wrong with him." Sam had tried to get Dean to wake up, but nothing seemed to work. Dean had endured a lot worse on the job and had never been down this long.
"His mind was connected to it. Its death has caused more than just the physical damage that you are aware of. Come, we will bring him to our healer." The man paused when he noticed Sam's blood-stained jeans. "That will be taken care of as well. It is the least we can do after what you've done for us." He looked over at Splendorman's body then. "That abomination has been nothing but trouble over the millennia. We thank you."
With a nod to the guards, two approached and lifted Dean up from the ground. Sam tried to keep from staring at the sylvan-like ears and the lithe forms of what he gathered were faerie warriors. He knew their fair, elven looks were deceiving though; they were each deadly in their own right. Sam let himself relax a little when he saw how gently they treated his unconscious brother.
"Who are you?" Sam asked as he got up from the ground, careful to keep most of his weight on his left leg, and dusted the dirt from his knees before sweeping his hair back from his face. He watched as the man next to him directed two more men to gather up Splendorman's lifeless body. Sam couldn't help but notice that the blue carnation pinned to the creature's lapel had wilted; it was sad really. The corner of his mouth ticked and he forced himself to look back to the Fae.
"Puck. I am His Majesty's second in command. I was sent here to find out what the fuss was all about." At Sam's shocked expression, the faerie smiled. "Yes, human, King Oberon sent me."
"Huh." Sam smiled to himself and shook his head as he accepted an offer of help to mount the nearest horse.
Dean was going to be pissed when he found out what he'd missed out on.
To be continued...
Author's Note: Just about there! Yay! For those of you who've stuck through this with me, thank you!