The Nutcracker.
Summary. . . . . . Trying to bring some Christmas cheer to a sick Sam, Dean unwittingly places his brother in danger.
Disclaimer. . . . . . Still only on loan from the evil genius that is Kripkie.
A.N. . . . . . I still have this writing bug biting my ass, so here's yet another chapter. Catch you soon, Peanut x
For Stephen, keep fighting cousin, I might not be there in body but I am in spirit. Love ya.
Call it divine intervention, natural instinct, or just the act of a very light sleeper, Dean didn't know and didn't care as some part of him was tweaked awake, his eyes instantly opening wide, by the soft swish of the door behind him closing. He couldn't help the stiffening of his back, the only other give away that told of his now awakened state, as he prepared to fight, if necessary, whoever had just entered the room, his state of awareness heightening as the hair on the back of his neck began to stand on end. He berated himself for being so stupid as to not come out prepared for anything, for thinking that for once a little bit of normal could be theirs, for thinking that the supernatural could for one day all be forgotten; then berated himself again for instantly jumping to conclusions, the intruder could be anyone, Becky maybe, or one of the paramedics; yet somehow Dean knew that it wasn't, that whatever, or whoever was now standing behind him was something very dangerous indeed, something that had probably been frightening Sam since they got there..
He moved his eyes frantically around, trying desperately to spot something, anything that he could use as a weapon to protect Sam from harm, but everything was locked away and even though he had been able to pick a lock since he was seven years old, he knew he wouldn't be given the time to do so. As he prepared for what was about to happen, all he could hope for was the element of surprise, that he could catch whoever was there unawares, that maybe by doing so he could raise the alarm and get the help his brother needed, or at least be able to get Sam out of harms way. He looked into the glass of one of the cabinets as he felt the curtain that had been pulled around them move slightly, even though the air in the room was still, barely holding in a gasp of surprise at what the reflection showed him; a sight that if he didn't know any better, if he hadn't seen the things he had, would have stolen his breath away, made him think he was hallucinating, made him think all his nightmares had come true.
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Reverted back to his original form he rested in the shadows, willing his strength to return quickly, watching, waiting for the right moment, for the crowd around the boy to lessen, to make his final move on his quest to gain back the life he had been forced to leave all those years ago. His mind traveled back through time to the day that things had changed, hatred coursing through his whole being for the one who had taken everything away from him; decades later and he still didn't know why this had happened? It wasn't after all, like he had killed those children, he'd just played with them, messed with their heads, if they had returned home a little changed and damaged that wasn't his fault, was it? So why had the residents of the town he had taken up residence in taken such an offence to him and punished him, unwarranted he might add, in such a harsh, vile way? Hadn't they realized who he was? Did they not know they couldn't treat him this way? But not to worry, he thought to himself, that sickening smile that had scared Sam so gracing his lips once more, once he had taken the gift from the boy, he would return, he would make them pay, he would play once again with the children before smiting their village to the ground.
He instinctively slid further into the shadows as the door opened to the room that held his prize and all but the protector left, the end game now within his sights. Concentrating hard once more he began the process of changing once again, the process becoming easier in one sense as the knowledge that he wouldn't have to do it too many more times boosted his confidence; yet harder in another as he knew this time he would have to changed for longer. Once done he moved swiftly towards the door, pleasure increasing his happiness when he tested the handle and found it moved, pushing open the entrance he began his deadly game of cat and mouse, stalking mutely towards his prey, gradually getting closer and closer until he was within striking distance, his arm lifting the axe he always carried ready to eliminate the protector once and for all, leaving the way clear for him to collect his spoils.
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Knowing he had little chance of success, but unwilling to go down without a fight, Dean prepared himself to use the element of surprise, hoping, praying that he could succeed. He moved with practiced ease as he watched in the polished glass the axe begin to fall, managing to dodge the lethal weapon at the same time as pushing the creep away from Sam. Turning on his heels he rose and started to brace himself, ready to do the only job he had ever been asked to do, protect Sammy, but he wasn't quick enough, the beast superior in strength and agility regaining it's balance within an instant, it's weapon raised and once again aiming for him. He tried again to dodge out of the way, this time though he wasn't quick enough the axe's blade cutting through the fabric of his coat and shirt as he raised his arm to protect his head, before digging into his flesh. The pain was instant and agonizing, throwing him off balance. As the blade was ripped out his knees buckled beneath him, sending him crashing into the metal frame of the bed Sam was laying upon, his head cracking harshly off the unforgiving post on his way down to the floor. Dean's last sight as his vision began to fail him, was of Sam cradled in the beasts arms.
A.N. . . . . . Before you send the hunters out to shoot the writer, I'm off again at the weekend so you shouldn't have to wait too long to find out what happens to Sam. I hope you enjoyed the chapter and thanks as always for reading, Peanut x