Battle of the Bulge
Summary: Sam and Dean are trapped on a farm with some unusual residents…
Allrighty… A few answers for you here, but you won't get the real ones (well a few more anyway) until tomorrow.
Chapter Three
Sam looked out the window and fought the urge to swear. This mess just had to get worse. Ten feet from the house, with animals flanking her on either side, stood a woman. She was barely visible in the gloom. Only her shape and the length of her disheveled hair marked her as female, but like the animals, her eyes were bright in the darkness.
"Either one of your neighbors is possessed or there's a dead chick in the yard," Dean said, completely deadpan. "Neither is good."
"We don't have any neighbors," Annie replied breathlessly.
"Well, that answers that."
One instant the woman was standing with the animals, the next she was inches away from Dean's face, just on the other side of the window. Dean stumbled back, forgetting he was standing in the tub, forcing Sam to catch him to keep him from falling. Dean gasped and awkwardly scrambled to his feet. Sam suspected half the speed was to keep pressure off his burns.
The ghost's eyes were all for Dean, watching as he painfully righted himself. "You can't trust him."
"Who Tommy?" Dean asked.
"He wants you to change. They always do." Her voice was hoarse, almost gravelly like a 20 year smoker.
"What?" Dean asked, confused.
Her eyes drifted to Sam and then back to Dean. "Your brother has promised to protect you, but he's angry that he has to." Her eyes glowed furiously. "Watch him. He made you this way, but he's still angry." Her voice rose angrily. "He'll turn on you."
"Dean…" Sam reached toward him as if to draw Dean away.
"Don't touch him." The ghost made a gesture and Sam staggered back, banging into the sink, feeling like he'd been backhanded.
Dean turned, silently asking if he were all right. Sam nodded in the affirmative and Dean turned back to the ghost. "Who are you?" he asked, ignoring the taunts.
The woman's eyes traveled past them both to Annie. "You must be the replacement wife."
"I… I beg your pardon?" she barely managed to whisper.
"Don't worry," she rasped. "I'll take care of Tommy for you. You'll be free soon." The ghost flickered and instantly reappeared back with the line of animals.
Sam leaned in around Dean and shut the water off. "Everybody in the kitchen. We need to talk. Fast."
Annie left first while Sam followed a shaky and now sodden Dean back the way they'd come. Dean practically fell into the kitchen chair and immediately a puddle started forming around him on the linoleum.
"You're gonna tell me this time if the burn thing starts up again, right?" Sam said, more statement than question. They were in crisis mode and Dean looked like something the cat had dragged in, all soggy, matted hair and misery.
"Yeah, yeah," Dean answered, only half-listening.
"Why is he wet?" Tommy demanded, coming in from the front room.
"I was born under a cloud," Dean grunted.
"Don't worry about it," Sam said, trying to get them on track. "Annie, you told us the animals were angry."
Tommy turned on his wife. "What have you been telling them?"
The poor anorexic woman looked newly frightened of her husband and Sam's growing discomfort with their host went up another notch.
"They're animals, Annie. They don't know anything," the man said angrily.
"It's not right, Tommy!" The words burst out of her, clearly surprising her as much as her husband. He looked furious that she had dared to contradict him, but she persevered nonetheless. "Look at them out there and… and now that… that woman!"
"What woman?" Tommy demanded sharply. "What are you talking about?"
"Ok, one thing at a time," Sam said. "Annie, tell me about the animals. What's wrong with them?"
"Tommy… He's always trying to breed the animals smaller and smaller."
"Of course, I am!" the man shouted. "We raise miniatures!"
Annie cringed, but kept her fearful eyes on Sam. "The problem is that at a certain point you start getting genetic anomalies."
Dean snorted. "Like mutant powers?" he murmured. "If those mini-pigs can fly, I'm gonna be pissed."
"Dean," Sam said in frustration.
Dean sighed and Sam instantly felt like he's kicked a hurt dog. Dean took it better than Annie, but Sam felt uncomfortably like Tommy for just a second. His brother's jaw was clenched and though he was trying to hide it with his practiced slouch, Dean was holding himself very carefully and consciously controlling his breathing. He'd been trying to distract himself from the pain and Sam had smacked him for it.
"The last four foals have been born clubfooted," Annie said. "Tommy had to put them down. The problems with the goats… It was worse. They all had to be destroyed."
"Stop sniveling, Annie," Tommy ordered viciously.
"Tone it down, Tom." Dean had raised his head and was looking very directly at Tommy. Sam had to agree. Tommy started to open his mouth to retort and Dean's expression hardened. Bullying a woman just because you could was high on Dean's list for reasons to start a fight. Sam watched Tommy actively decide that maybe he wasn't the Big Dog in the room and back down. Sam almost smiled. After all, Dean was soaking wet, sitting in a puddle, and obviously injured.
Tommy shifted on his feet. "It's just part of the business," he said, his tone more subdued. "Sometimes you get abnormalities. You put the animal down."
Annie glared at him. "They're small enough. And you just keep going even though you have to put almost all of them down and now look!" She furiously jabbed a finger toward the yard. "Look what you've done!"
"They're never small enough," Tommy said, his temper rising again. "I did what had to be done."
"Ok, so the animals are ticked." Sam ran a hand over his face resignedly and once again felt the sting where the ghost had hit him. "Next problem. Tommy, were you married before?" he asked. Dean, he noticed, again focused his attention on the man, curious to gauge his reaction.
"I beg your pardon?"
Sam narrowed his eyes in annoyance. He could practically see the guy getting ready to jerk them around. "What happened to your first wife, Tommy?"
"What do you mean, what happened to her? Nothing happened to her. She moved to Tucson."
Dean shook his head. "Dude, stay away from poker games. You've got a tell the size of Texas."
"What?"
Dean shrugged and winced at the movement. "Well, that and your dead wife's outside leading the barnyard rebellion."
Tommy looked thunderstruck, his mouth opening and closing like a landed fish. "She… how… what?"
"Your wife's dead," Sam said straightly. "We need to know how."
"Sh… she's in Tucson," Tommy stammered, wide-eyed.
"Annie, have you ever met his first wife?" Sam asked. "Ever seen her?"
"No and Tommy doesn't have any old pictures," she answered, her features drawn and strained. "That… that was her… ghost?"
Something banged into the back door again making the doorjamb start to splinter.
"Annie, do you have any salt?" Dean asked.
She went to a cabinet and pulled out a small canister. "Just this and what's on the table."
Sam saw Dean slump wearily. "That's not gonna be enough," he said. "Sam, you're gonna have to make it to the car. You still got my gun?"
Sam fished it out of his pocket and both Tommy and Annie gasped. Sam ignored them, more concerned with his brother who was grimacing as he tried to sit up straight and pull the car keys out of his pocket with his damaged hand.
"Shoot whatever you have to," Dean ordered. "We can't afford another bite." He threw the keys and then the salt shaker from the table to him. "In case anything non-cow-like comes at you."
The door splintered further under another blow.
"Go," Dean urged.
Sam ran for the front door, the gun held in one hand, salt in the other. He was out the door and running for the car, passing through the line of animals before they realized he was there. A few turned to follow him, but Sam kept running. He had the keys out and jammed them into the trunk lid. He grabbed two bags, slammed the trunk closed and ran, leaving the keys. Dean could yell at him for that later.
The animals continued to follow his movements, but the possessed creatures weren't fast enough. He had to hurdle several goats and a pig. His high school track coach would have been proud. Or horrified, depending. He vaulted the steps and slammed the door closed, then locked it, though he doubted the cows would figure out deadbolts anytime soon.
Sam carried the bags into the kitchen to find that Dean had backed Tommy into a corner and made an arc of salt around him with what little he had. Tommy was looking at him like he was nuts, but he was staying put in the corner.
Sam really didn't care what Tommy thought. He was far more concerned that it should have been Dean behind the salt line. Dean was the one with burns spreading across his skin for no discernable reason.
"I'm just getting barbequed. Ghost said she was going to take care of him for Annie," Dean said as if he'd heard what Sam was thinking. "Dead outranks crispy."
It started almost unnoticeably, a few animals bleating, but the noise grew in just a handful of seconds to a cacophony of animal noises. Sam and Dean both hurried to the window. As they watched, the animals parted, making a path for the woman to pass through. She walked slowly, approaching the house to the accompaniment of bleating, mooing, and grunting. Suddenly it occurred to Sam what the animals were doing. They were cheerleading.
"Tommy, what was your first wife's name?" Sam asked.
"Why?"
"Answer the question, jackass," Dean snapped.
"Clara. What does it matter?"
The back door slammed open, listing drunkenly on its hinges. Clara stopped in the doorway.
"Stay behind the salt," Dean ordered Tommy.
The ghost's gaze fell on Dean, confusion on her face. "Why are you helping him? You should…" Her angry, glowing eyes traveled to Sam, looking him up and down. As if understanding had suddenly dawned on her she nodded almost sorrowfully.
She pointed to her now terrified husband. "I'll be back for you, Tommy. You won't get away that easily. You either," she eyed Sam. The ghost then looked back toward Dean. "You. You need to be taught a lesson." She turned to leave and crooked her finger as if asking him to follow.
Jerked off his feet, Dean was out the door and gone before Sam could do anything to stop it.
More tomorrow…