Battle of the Bulge
Summary: Sam and Dean are trapped on a farm with some unusual residents…
For those of you who might be curious, mini-moos are very real. Cute little critters, too. Google 'em and you'll get some pictures.
Chapter Two
"Anyone want to share with the rest of the class?" Dean asked, stepping back from the windows.
Sam watched him as he carefully folded his injured arm close to his chest. The burns were patchy and red, standing out starkly from the rest of the skin and Sam knew they had to be unbelievably painful. Whether Dean realized it or not he was sweating and shaking slightly.
Tommy turned away from the window, wide-eyed. "There's something wrong with them."
"Really? What gave it away? Was it the glowing eyes or the fact that a bunch of farm animals are staring at us?" Dean said hotly.
"I don't understand," Annie said. "Tommy, what's happening?" She was trembling like a leaf, but her husband made no move to comfort her.
"Has anything like this ever happened before?" Sam asked, trying to keep his voice even.
"The animals were acting strange today," Tommy answered. "Just jumpy, jittery. Then tonight they managed to get out of their pens."
"But nothing like this has ever happened before here," Sam pressed.
"No." Tommy shook his head. "I've been in this business for years. I've never seen animals behave like that."
He looked from Sam to Dean and then back. Once again Sam saw the vague expression of distaste cross his face as if there were something rancid in the room.
"Is there a problem?" Dean demanded. "I mean other than the obvious barnyard situation?"
Tommy looked up at Sam again, frowning, but shook his head. "It's fine."
Sam wasn't sure he believed him, but they had bigger fish to fry. "Ok, this is going to sound weird, but has… has anything bad ever happened on the land here? Has anything ever happened in the house or in one of the barns?"
Tommy and his wife were both shaking their heads. "What does that have to do with anything?" he asked confusedly.
"Has there ever been a fire… or even a chemical spill here?" Sam asked, thinking out loud. "One of the barns burn with the animals inside? Anything… catastrophic?"
"Who are you two? Are you crazy?" Annie asked, hysteria creeping into her voice. "This is a farm! Not a disaster movie!"
"Focus, people!" Dean barked and Sam knew the pain was making Dean even more short-tempered than usual. "Has anyone ever died here?"
Tommy looked like he'd been struck, staring at them dumbly, but Annie began backing away. "You are crazy!"
"Tommy?" Sam said.
The man continued to stare at them, then finally shook himself out of his frozen state. "No!"
"How long have you lived here?" Dean asked. "Maybe something happened before you moved in."
"I've lived here since I was a kid," Tommy said. "My parents ran this farm before I did."
"Annie?" Sam asked.
"I'm not from around here. Tommy and I only got married a couple of years ago."
Dean and Sam looked at each other uncertainly. They were up a creek without a paddle and no way to do any real research.
"Ok, you two watch the front. Dean, you got a minute?" Sam nodded toward the kitchen. Dean followed him into the next room. Sam saw that he was bent over slightly, hunching against the pain. "How's the arm?"
"Not good," he bit out. "So why don't you not talk about it and say what you came in here to say?"
Instead of answering, Sam looked through the blinds on the windows over the sink. There were more animals in the back, all standing facing the house. They stood stock-still, their glowing eyes watching them. He looked back to see that Dean had pulled out one of the dinette chairs and was sitting down, still holding his arm close to his chest without letting it actually touch it.
"You want me to wrap it?" Sam asked.
Dean barely shook his head. "Just… just don't touch it."
Sam sighed. He would need to see to it soon whether Dean liked it or not, but for the moment he decided to let it pass. "So you believe him?" he asked quietly.
"Tommy?"
"Yeah."
"No, not really."
Sam frowned. "Yeah, me neither."
"One thing's for sure," Dean smiled thinly, "he's not too fond of you."
"He keeps looking at me like I'm defective," Sam agreed.
"No place for a sasquatch on a mini-farm," Dean said, his smile broadening. "I think the guy might have a complex or something."
"That's great, Dean," Sam sighed, "but what are we supposed to do about the animals?"
"Wait 'til daylight and hope they don't storm the gates?" Dean suggested.
Sam stabbed a finger toward the window. "You really think they're gonna wait that long?"
"Unless Tommy's got a doggy door, I don't think it's gonna be a problem," Dean shot back.
As if in answer, something threw itself against the rear door. Sam hurriedly grabbed the other dinette chair and shoved it beneath the door handle.
"Watch out for the pygmy goats, Sammy," he heard Dean say with a tight laugh. "They look like ankle-biters to me."
"Dean, this is not funny!" Sam said angrily.
"How is this not funny? A freakin' cow bit me and we're under siege by a bunch of farm animals! To top that off, I think the mini-moo gave me leprosy. Are there any burros out there?" Dean asked. "I've always wanted to ride a burro down into the Grand Canyon."
Sam worriedly headed back toward Dean. He was breathing heavily, continuing to babble as he headed toward hyperventilation.
"Burros are like… mini-donkeys, aren't they? He should… have one of those."
"Dean, what's wrong?"
Something slammed into the back door again, harder this time, making them both jump.
Tommy and Annie hurried in from the front room. "What's going on?" the man asked.
"They're trying to get in," Sam said, though his eyes were on Dean who was grimacing, bent over in the chair, gasping for air.
"He ok?" Tommy asked.
"The front door," Sam ordered in his best Dean voice. "Go watch it."
Tommy didn't like it, but he obeyed and left the room. Sam knelt in front of Dean. "Tell me what's going on, man."
"Hurts."
"The burns?"
"Hurts." It seemed to be all he could manage.
Sam noticed a red looking patch on Dean's neck. Jerking his brother's collar back Sam saw red weals, as he watched, spreading across Dean's neckline. He knew there had to be more that he couldn't see.
"Where's your shower?" Sam demanded.
Annie frowned in confusion. "What?"
"Your shower!" Sam said frantically. He pulled Dean to his feet and started pushing him toward the door that didn't go to the living room. It was a tiny house. There were only so many options.
"Turn to the right," Annie said hesitantly.
Sam guided Dean in front of him into the bathroom. Annie flipped on the light while Sam bodily lifted Dean into the tub, facing the showerhead, and turned the water on full blast.
Almost immediately, Dean let out a gasp of relief as the water soaked through his clothes. He tilted his head back, letting the water wash over his neck and chest. Sam quickly grabbed the gun Dean still had tucked at his back and stuffed it into his own pocket out of Annie's sight. He then grabbed Dean by the shoulders and turned him so that he was thoroughly soaked, hair, shirt, jeans, and shoes.
After several moments, Dean's breathing was still fast, but Sam could see that he was calming. "Better?" he asked.
"You know if I stink, you can just tell me," Dean said, his voice ragged. "You don't have to bathe me yourself." He eyed his soggy clothes. "And your technique pretty much sucks."
Sam remained quiet, watching as Dean shifted so that the water spread more evenly across his back and neck.
"It's… it's the animals."
Both men turned at the sound of Annie's nervously whispered words. "What about them?" Sam asked.
"They're angry." She looked behind her, back toward the kitchen, making sure Tommy was still out of earshot.
"Why would they be angry, Annie?" Sam coaxed gently.
"Hey, Sam?"
"In a minute, Dean."
"Now, Sam," Dean insisted.
"What?" Sam turned back to see Dean pointing out the bathroom window.
"If Annie's in here, then who's the chick out on the lawn?"
More tomorrow…