C28
-o-o-o-
Standing with one Hunter to the front, and another one at his back, the Pooka hesitated, that moment of indecision acting as Dean's signal to move. Keeping low and with no concern for his shoulder, Dean steamrollered into the Un-sidhe fey, grabbing hold of it around it's torso and taking them both to the ground in a tangled mass. The feel of the thing's skin was disgustingly clammy and almost sponge like, making the Pooka hard to hold onto tightly, especially given that the Un-sidhe was squealing, thrashing around, wriggling and squirming, managing to turn within Dean's grasp and snarling down at Dean. It's bare feet repeatedly kicked at Dean's shins whilst long, claw nailed fingers slipped and scrabbled, trying to wrap themselves around Dean's throat. The weird thought crossed Dean's mind that trying to keep a grip on the frantically resistive and ickily damp skinned Pooka was probably not too dissimilar to wrestling with a plump, wet, sea lion; except that sea lion's were cute.
-o-
Dean moved his head quickly to one side, narrowly managing to avoid the thing's apparent attempt to bite his nose off.
"Whenever you like Sam!"
Already by their side, Sam stood with both hands held out at the ready, trying to time his move whilst the Pooka and Dean, still clutching the furious fey determinedly to his chest, tumbled and twisted from side to side as the Pooka again snapped it's teeth inches away from Dean's face. Before Sam could act, the Pooka finally managed to squirm itself up Dean's body far enough to be able to latch onto Dean's throat with both hands. Dean couldn't stop the creature without releasing his hold around the Pooka's body. His eyes met Sam's, their message loud and clear. Get on and lasso the damn thing will you?
-o-
With his brother unable to breath and his eyes rapidly beginning to glaze over, there was only one thing Sam could think of doing in order to more or less ensure he could successfully loop the lasso over the creature's head and around it's neck. He physically threw himself into the fray.
-o-
Dean's eyes suddenly opened wide when the full weight of his not so little brother's upper body landed on top of the Pooka's back. Very aware that Dean was now forming the bottom of the pile of bodies, Sam worked quickly, managing to get the lasso over the Pooka's head, pulling it tight the moment he thought he had it encircled around the fey creature's neck.
-o-
Still squeezing the weakening Hunter's throat tightly, the Pooka's own oversized head was jerked back and it gurgled when Sam yanked on the fey rope, pulling the noose tight. The Pooka instantly released it's strangle hold on Dean and instead began to claw at the rope that was around it's own neck, in an attempt to ease the crushing pressure.
-o-
Exactly as the Sidhe fey Queen had stated, the slender golden rope twinkled into view as soon as Sam had it in place and tightened. Dean stayed on his back, gasping and gulping as he filled his lungs and massaged his sore and reddened throat. He glared past the increasingly flailing Pooka and at his puffing and panting brother, croaking out a plea.
"Gerrof me, n' take Pukey with...B'for my freakin' ribs cave in!"
-o-
Sam had some difficulty complying. He had to lift his upper body off the Pooka and Dean without the benefit of hands, both being occupied with clinging onto the golden fey rope, whilst the Pooka fought against both it and Sam's attempts to get it off his brother. The Pooka's struggles grew wilder, it's howls and screeching louder, sounding ever more furious. It's hands determinedly tried grabbing hold of anything it could of Dean, who equally determinedly blocked all the creature's efforts. Sam was clearly winning the tug-o-war, until the weight he was pulling against suddenly wasn't there. With no counter balance to his tugging and straining, Sam unexpectedly shot backwards, ending up flat on his back and wondering what the hell had just happened?
-o-
The golden rope was twitching almost as if Sam had caught a tiddler of a fish on a rod and line. Puzzled, his eyes followed the rope to where it had been looped around the Pooker's neck, and stared. Finally able to sit upright, Dean followed Sam's gaze.
"You have got to be joking! I get the giant bear, and you get...What the Hell is that? Please. Tell me it's not a Tribble?"*
-o-
Sam considered the creature scampering and straining to break free of it's golden collar. It looked for all the world like a black toupee madly whizzing around in circles.
"I think it's a long haired guinea pig."
Dean frowned.
"They're those rat type things that forgot to collect their tails, aren't they?"
Sam nodded, only half listening whilst he continued watching the animated toupee in fascination.
"I s'pose."
"Well...One of us has to kill it. Who's it ... Um, Sammy? Stand to!"
"Ah, crap!"
Sam scrambled to his feet, hyper-alert and winding more rope around his hands in order to give himself a firmer grip as the guinea - toupee stopped struggling, and curled up into a trembling hairy ball.
-o-
There was no whiz, pop, bang or anything other such special effect. Just a harmless guinea pig, then not. Close up and personal, the blue black stallion fixing it's white eyed stare on Sam really was huge and, Sam was acutely aware, it was also very, very pissed off.
"Hey, Dean? I might need a hand heeeeeeere ...!"
"Sam! Don't let go!"
-o-
Sam wanted to thank Dean for his inane advice, he really did. But right at that moment he had both feet off the ground and was being dizzyingly swung around at the business end of a rearing horse that was salivating so much it might have had rabies and, even more worryingly to Sam, it was both snorting and growling. Which, he was pretty sure, horses weren't supposed to do! Whichever direction the thing threw it's head, that was the direction Sam helplessly found himself flying in. And then the creature deployed it's primary weapon.
-o-
The first time the flailing hooves of the stallion delivered a double body blow, the shock and the sheer force with which the horse's hooves thudded into Sam's body came close to making him let go of the golden rope, managing to retain his grip purely due to having twisted and wrapped his hands in the rope a number of times. Grunting at each blow, Sam knew he couldn't withstand that kind of punishment for long without suffering serious consequences, but the Pooka seemed intent on continuing to use him as a punch bag. Another couple of blows landed and Sam knew that the next one was guaranteed to make him vomit.
"Dee ... need ... do somethn'... can't take ..."
-o-o-o-
*The Trouble with Tribbles - Original Star Treck series.
