So, um, hehe . . . please don't kill me .
I'm so sorry this took forever! I promise I didn't mean to make y'all wait so long. My only defense is that I've been stressing about AP exams and the SAT, but those are over and done with now, so yay! I finally had time to sit down and write.
Thank you SO much to everyone who's been favoriting, following, and reviewing, it seriously makes my day when y'all do that.
Please enjoy!
After making sure Sam was alright, the doctor left to take care of other patients. Jenny, however, remained, and Dean helped her to straighten out the sheets and get Sam settled again.
Dean noticed Jenny was frowning. "What is it?" He asked.
She shrugged. "It's just strange," she muttered.
"What's strange?"
She tugged the sheet up to Sam's chest. "The coma. See, coming out of a coma isn't like you see on TV. The patient doesn't just wake up, suddenly and to move and speak and then walk away a day later at full strength.
In reality, it's a slow process. The patient may wake up, but remain unable to move. It usually takes several days or even weeks for them to regain complete control of their body, and even longer than that to regain their strength. Sam didn't exactly wake up, but he was moving quite a lot more than is normal for a coma patient. That was something I've never seen in all my years of nursing."
All three hunters in the room shifted uncomfortably. They knew it wasn't a normal coma, but of course they couldn't tell her this. They chose to remain silent.
Dean reached up to wipe the tears from Sam's face. "Is he in pain?" He asked quietly. "Or dreaming?"
"I wish I knew," Jenny sighed. "I just can't tell." She watched Sam for a moment before excusing herself to allow them some privacy.
Dean smoothed Sam's hair with a frustrated sigh. "I'm just ready for this to be over."
Bobby squeezed his shoulder. "We'll fix 'im," he reassured Dean. "We just have to wait until tonight. He'll be okay."
Dean scowled. "I wish we didn't have to wait so long."
Out in the hall, Jenny cocked her head in confusion as she listened. She knew she shouldn't have eavesdropped, but this cryptic conversation had peaked her interest—and her concern. Exactly who were these people, and what were they planning to do tonight?
"I need you to stay with me, Sam."
Sam's ears perked at the familiar voice. "De?" he croaked.
"Right here." A hand squeezed his.
"Whaz . . . 'appening?" Sam slurred.
There was some shuffling, and then someone was lifting his head into their lap.
"You're dying," came the worried reply. "Dean's trying to wake you up, but you gotta work on your end too. You gotta hold on a little longer."
Sam would've frowned if he had the energy. Wake me up? And why is Dean referring to himself in third person?
"Because I'm not the real Dean," Dean's voice said. "This is all in your head, Sammy."
What the hell? Sam coughed, groaning in pain as his broken ribs strained and stabbed him. "Hurts," he moaned.
Dean's calloused hand gently stroked his hair. "I know, Sammy." Sam could hear the pain and sorrow in his voice. "I wish I could take the pain away—god, I wish I could. But right now you just need to hold on and stay alive."
Sam's body, which had begun to feel warm and fuzzy, seemed to melt into the ground beneath him. " 'M tired," he sighed.
But he was snapped out of his warm trance by a harsh shake of his shoulder; the pain, which had begun to dull, came back full force.
"Awake, Sam," Dean said firmly. "Stay awake."
Sam groaned. "Can't," he whispered.
"Well, tough! I'm supposed to be the lazy one, remember?" Sam could hear the tremor in Dean's voice. "So either you stay awake or I'm drawing a dick on your face."
The corner of Sam's mouth quirked up in a smile.
"You ready to go?"
"You have no idea. Is Garth with Sam?"
Bobby rolled his eyes. "For the tenth time, Dean, yes, he is with Sam, just like he's been for the past week."
"Just making sure."
Bobby shook his head with a small grin as he followed Dean out to the Impala. That boy was such a mother hen; he wondered sometimes how Sam could stand it.
They threw their gear in the trunk and headed out in the direction of the woods. Part of Dean was elated, because it was finally, finally the night of the full moon, and they'd be able to summon the damn feary and wake Sam up. But another part of him was terrified—if they screwed this up, it would be another whole month before they could try again, and there was no telling what could happen to Sam in that time span, assuming he was even able to survive.
It took about half an hour to reach their destination, which was a stretch of road next to the woods that was void of any passers-by, because they had no idea how loud this was going to get. The two hunters collected their gear and set off through the thick brush.
Garth sighed as he slumped down in the plastic chair next to Sam's bed. It was past midnight and he'd been awake for over twenty-four hours. Fatigue was beginning to set in, but he tried to snap himself out of it. He had a duty, and he couldn't afford to sleep on the job.
"Tik tok."
Garth rubbed his eyes.
"Tik tok."
He yawned. Surely it wouldn't hurt to doze for just a minute.
"Tik tok."
His chin began to drop to his chest. Dean wouldn't mind if he took a nap, would he?
"Tik tok."
Besides, it's not like the Sandman thing was around, Garth would definitely hear—
"Tik tok."
His eyes flew open.
Crouching right in front of him was a red-eyed, grinning black monster.
Garth yelped and tried to throw himself backwards, only succeeding in knocking the chair over and crashing to the floor, the creature landing on his chest. The Sandman let out an odd screech that might have been a laugh, and reared up. Garth threw up his hands, expecting an attack.
But to his horror, the thing leapt off of him and landed on top of Sam.
"No!" Garth shouted. He ungracefully scrambled to his feet around the overturned chair, grabbing the faery by the throat and wrenching it off of Sam's chest. Slamming it against the wall, Garth yanked his silver knife from beneath his jacket and aimed for the Sandman's throat.
The creature grabbed Garth's wrist with a clawed hand that sliced into his skin. Garth's hand shook with effort as he tried to push the knife closer, but the Sandman only grinned as it held him at bay. "Tik tok."
Garth shook his head hard in an attempt to clear it. His muscles were already beginning to weaken. Crap crap crap! How was he supposed to stay awake?
"Tik tok."
With a shout, Garth hurled the Sandman away and lunged for his duffle bag. He fumbled with the zipper a moment before he was able to get it open, reaching inside and closing his hand around what he was looking for.
Just as the Sandman charged at him, Garth whipped around and swung his arm in a horizontal arc as he hurled the iron shavings at the creature from the jar in his hand.
With an unholy scream, the feary fell back, its flesh hissing and steaming everywhere the iron touched it. The Sandman collapsed against the far wall, writhing in pain.
"What the hell is—"
Garth looked towards the door and froze.
Nurse Jenny Faith stood there, mouth hanging open and staring at the Sandman.
"Uh—hi, Mrs. Jenny," Garth said nervously.
She turned her head to look at him, and then at the knife in his hand and the cuts on his arm. She glanced back at the Sandman, which was beginning to sit up and glare murderously at them, then back Garth and said, "What the fuck?"
Garth might've burst out laughing if the Sandman hadn't leapt towards her, extending its claws as it went. She screamed and fell back, but Garth managed to grab the feary just before it reached her throat and sank his knife into its shoulder. But the Sandman threw him off, sending Garth to the floor where the back of his head struck the metal bedframe.
Everything became dark and fuzzy. His ears rang and he could dimly hear Jenny screaming, but his limbs refused to move. Groaning with effort, Garth managed to turn his head toward Sam.
The Sandman was once again approaching Sam, this time slowly climbing up from the foot of the bed with a twisted smile on its face. It crouched over Sam's chest and stroked his cheek almost lovingly.
Garth finally began to gain some feeling in his muscles and struggled to get to his feet again. He couldn't let that thing hurt Sam again, he just couldn't.
But he wasn't quick enough. Just as he stumbled to his feet, the Sandman cocked its arm back, claws extended, ready to tear Sam's throat out.
"NO!" Garth screamed, lunging forward just as the claws came down.
After a good half hour of tromping through the woods, Dean and Bobby finally came to a clearing that glowed in the moonlight. Stepping carefully over a tangle of thorns, Dean made his way towards the center. "This should do," he said.
It didn't take long to get set up. First they took the large iron ring inlaid with silver veins in the center of the clearing. Then they took the oak, thorn, and ash bark, which they had ground into a fine powder, and sprinkled some around the inside of the ring. Keeping the rest in the little wooden bowl, Bobby struck a match and waved it over the powder until a small flame flared up while Dean dug a piece of paper out of his pocket and began the incantation.
"Ancient beast, bane of light!" he announced. "Darkest dream, tempest of mind! Fae of the Wicked, of the Shadow, of Death!" Dean's voice rose to a boom that scattered birds previously asleep in the trees. "By the power of the Sun, the Moon, and the Sky, I summon thee!" The clearing rang with the sheer volume of Dean's voice as Bobby threw the burning bark into the ring. "BY THE POWER OF THE SUN, THE MOON, AND THE SKY, I SUMMON THEE!"
Their hair stood on end as the clearing suddenly became charged with energy. The air thrummed around them, not quite audible, but just below their range of hearing.
Suddenly, from all over the clearing, wind was rushing past them towards the center of the ring. With a great whoosh, the fire flared high before exploding, knocking the two hunters back as a loud scream pierced the air.
Oh god, Garth thought as he lunged for Sam, but knowing he was too far away, too slow. Oh god, he's going to die—
But just as the Sandman's claws came down, a blast of heat filled the room, accompanied by the roar of a fire and a bright flash of light. Garth instinctively hit the floor as a scream filled the air.
And just a suddenly as it had come, it was gone.
Garth lay on the floor, frozen for at good ten seconds while his brain tried to catch up and process what the hell just happened. Then he was frantically scrambling to his feet, his shoes deafeningly loud in the sudden silence.
Racing to Sam, heart in his throat, Garth prayed he was still alive as he looked up at the heart monitor.
Beep. Beep. Beep.
Garth felt as though he might cry. Sam was alive. Alive.
But upon closer inspection, Garth realized he wasn't unscathed. The Sandman's claws had made contact with Sam's neck just before it disappeared, leaving behind four cuts. And the way it had sat on his chest couldn't have done Sam's broken ribs any favors.
Garth whipped around when he heard a groan behind him. "Mrs. Jenny!" he gasped, rushing to her side, "Are you okay?"
The old nurse was sprawled on her back in front of the door. She blinked up at him. "Garth?" she asked, confused. She rubbed her head, but other that the knot on her skull, seemed to be uninjured. "What—oh, Sam!" Jenny immediately jumped up and ran to her patient, checking his injuries. She wasted no time grabbing the first aid kit off the wall, cleaning and covering the cuts with a bandage. She then gently moved her hands over his torso, checking his ribs. She let out a breath when she found that they were still intact.
All of the ruckus had attracted several staff members, who now crowded in the door demanding to know what had happened. Garth quickly stepped in and spun a lie that an animal had somehow gotten in and attacked them. "But it's okay, we're alright . . . yes, I'm sure . . . thank you for your concern, but please, give us some room . . . "
When the others were gone and Jenny was satisfied that Sam was (relatively) alright, she turned to Garth with a hard glare. "What was that thing? And don't even try lying to me. I know what I saw, and that wasn't a damn animal."
Garth bit his lip. Should I tell her?
Jenny crossed her arms. "Do I need to call security?"
Garth's eyes widened. "No! No, please, I can't leave him alone—"
"Then spill it. What was that thing and who are you people?"
Garth sighed. "Okay, okay. Just, promise you won't freak out."
"Fine, I promise."
The hunter rubbed his eyes wearily. Oh, Dean was definitely going to kill him.
"So that's the Sandman."
Dean rolled over and propped himself up on his elbows. Bobby sat next to him, gazing towards the circle, which glowed in the darkness as the ring of fire slowly died down.
The creature crouched in the center, bearing its needlelike teeth at them with a low growl. Its black flesh glistened in the firelight, but upon closer inspection Dean noticed that there were burn marks stretching across its chest and arms.
"Wonder where those came from?" Dean mused aloud as the two hunters got to their feet.
Bobby shrugged and approached the circle with caution. "How you wanna do this? We need its eyes, right?"
"Yeah, and it has to be alive when we take them." Dean drew his knife. "You tackle it, and I'll start carving?" He suggested.
Bobby gave him a doubtful look.
"Hey, you got a better idea?" Dean asked.
Bobby sighed. "Fine. But there's no guarantee I'll be able to hold 'im down for long."
"Just do your best. I'll help you as best I can." Dean squeezed his knife tighter. "Think about Sammy."
Bobby nodded. "Don't forget your earplugs," he said, pulling a pair from his pocket. Dean also produced a pair and they quickly shoved them into their ears, hoping that this way the Sandman couldn't put them to sleep.
Bobby went to stand in front of the feary and took a deep breath. He drew his own knife, steeled himself, and charged into the circle.
The Sandman screamed as Bobby tackled it head-on, and swiped its claws, just barely missing the hunter's face. Bobby purposefully landed on top of it, using his body to pin the feary's legs and torso down. Thankfully, the thing's wrists were skinny, so Bobby was able to grab both in one hand and use his other arm to pin both the creature's arms between their bodies.
Even through the earplugs, the two hunters definitely felt the high-pitched screams that came from the feary. Wincing in pain, Dean threw himself down next to the feary's head. Using his knee, Dean held its head down as best he could and immediately dug the tip of his knife into the corner of its eye.
The thing screamed even louder and thrashed beneath them, the two hunters just barely able to hold it down. Dean methodically worked his knife around the Sandman's left eyeball, black blood spurting over his hand. It took longer than he would've liked, but finally, with a wet pop, Dean severed the optic nerve and the eye fell out of its socket. Dean quickly grabbed it and tossed it out of the way before it got squished, and moved on to the right eye.
By now Dean was sure his ears were bleeding, the Sandman's screams were so loud. It was becoming increasingly difficult to hold it down, and Dean feared it would get loose and they wouldn't be able to pin it again. The circle would keep it from escaping, but considering the amount of pain it was in, it would probably thrash so much that it'd take them both out before they could get it back under control.
Dean heard Bobby's voice, probably screaming at him, but there was no telling. Dean simply redoubled his grip on the knife and tried to go faster without slicing the eye open.
Finally, after what seemed like hours, but was probably just a few minutes, the second eye popped out into Dean's hand. Dean and Bobby released the Sandman and quickly rolled out of the circle.
The creature, now blind, continued shrieking and repeatedly threw itself against the invisible barriers of the circle. Dean relished the sight for a moment. That's what you get for hurting my brother.
But after a pointed look from Bobby, Dean reluctantly drew his gun—loaded with iron bullets—and fired three shots into the circle.
The Sandman froze, finally falling silent. Then it slowly fell back, bursting into black dust as it hit the ground.
Dean and Bobby stood silently for a moment as the last of the flames died down. Then Dean turned to Bobby. "I think it's time for Sam to wake up."
Bobby grinned. "Well, let's go get 'im."
Quick note about the summoning ritual: As much as I'd like to tell you it's a real one, it's actually complete bullshit. I did a ton of research hoping I could find an authentic one, but just about every summoning I found was for little girls hoping to attract pretty little people with wings. So, I just used what information I already knew to make one up. For instance, I've read somewhere that the Sidhe could enter this world if they had access to oak, thorn, and ash trees, and I know the Celts worshipped the sun and the sky, and then fact that fearies can't touch iron and sometimes silver. Then I just made up some words I hoped were impressive and BOOM. Summoning ritual! I hope it was exciting as I wanted it to be lol.
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