I did not create Sam., Dean, or The Demon. Mr. Kripke bought my soul when he thought them up.
Spoilers only for The Demon, really. This is far in the future.
The chant is my own.
Tumble tumble, down down
Into hell but don't turn 'round
We'll catch you, don't you fret
We're here, here, always
Tumble down, tumble down—
Your wings are blackened soot.
The little girl giggled, staring up up up at the tall man with shaggy brown hair. Her blond curls bounced as she continued jump-roping, chanting her little ditty. Her eyes shone deep blue in the sunlight and her jeans were frayed at the bottom, but her pink shirt was spotless.
"I know what you are," he said softly, kneeling just out of reach. "Don't think you've escaped."
Her smile widened and she started the second verse.
Fall fall, into hell
Don't look back, nothing's there now
Your eyes have faded, nothing seen—
Only his tears for me, always for me.
"I know what you are," he repeated. "I'm going to chase you, no matter where you run, no matter what form you take." His voice remained soft, soothing, and there was no menace about his form. Nothing that would constitute a threat could be seen anywhere near him.
"My name's Victoria," she said sweetly, her eyes going gold for a moment, in the bright sun. "I was named after the good queen from years and years ago."
"How old are you, Victoria?" he asked, standing back up.
"Six and a half." She stilled her jump-roping and grinned up at him.
He nodded, took one last look, and whispered, "Don't think you've escaped."
Perhaps it was the wind, but it sounded like something said, Are you so sure?
As he walked away, she resumed her game and chant.
Tumble tumble, Sammy dear
We've got him, he's ours
Down down the abyss,
We'll catch you, you you
We'll catch you
He's ours now
Waiting waiting for you.
Her blond curls bounced and her laughter pealed through the air, catching his ear. He turned, one glance over his shoulder—dark green eyes glared, hate and rage leaping in them.
You know me, but we know you
And innocent blood shall not be spilt
You cannot kill
Darkened wings and tarnished halo
But no murderer in your soul
Not you, Sammy-boy, not you at all
He's ours and you're not strong enough.
Her bright grin and loud laughter followed him down the street. He still heard her chant blocks away.
He fell fell into hell
Leaving you but you want to follow
Follow him down, down
Tumbling down into
Tumble tumble, down down
Hold me now we're here
Here in hell
Tumbling down...