A/N:
Well, the Winchester boys are keeping me busy. Knocked out the rest of Chapter 3 in no time, and Chapter 4 is started.
For the record, this part of the story is pretty much all exposition, from my point of view, but I hope you like the hunt just the same.
Rated M, still, to be safe (yeah, Dean's mouth is going to get me into trouble!)
Disclaimer: Not mine. No way, no how.
PLEASE review! I'm flerken dying to know how y'all like this!
Chapter 3
Dean started slightly when Sam suddenly stepped into his peripheral vision.
"Sean?" He asked, frowning.
Sam shrugged. "He passed out from the pain — again — but he's hanging in there, surprisingly. I kind of wonder if there's not some kind of spell at work, keeping him weaker than he should be," he suggested, looking around the cavern for a way up to the ledge.
"Really?" Dean frowned, wondering what exactly his baby brother was trying to pull this time. "Can she do that? You didn't mention that was in the lore."
"I didn't see it," Sam admitted. "But just looking at Sean, you'd have expected him to be dead days ago, but he's still here. She's clearly capable of some kind of magic, if she can reanimate the dead. Why not make her first victim seem to be on death's door? Keeps him quiet, scares the shit out of the rest of the captives."
"Huh. Could be," Dean admitted.
"You think she's up there?"
"I saw some movement a little while ago - just shadows on the wall, but yeah, I think she is." Dean lifted a coil of vines he'd gathered and knotted together, and showed them to Sam. "The vines she used to tie the kids are pretty thick. I think they'd support our weight, if we can find some way to get them up there, and stick. Some kind of grappling hook," he added, looking around (not for the first time) for something they could use.
"Yeah, maybe," Sam nodded. "But if we do that, she's sure to see it, and be ready when we come over the wall. That's a 25, 30 foot drop, Dean, right on to solid rock. Not looking forward to that."
"Yeah," Dean nodded. "That was my problem with it. So, okay, Einstein. What's your big idea?"
Sam shook his head. "Nothing yet. I'm going to take a look around, behind the rocks by Sean."
"I looked there," Dean told him.. "Didn't see any way up."
"Fresh eyes," Sam shrugged and walked away.
Dean watched his brother walk away, eyes narrowing slightly. What Sam was doing was all perfectly reasonable — he'd been about to suggest that Sam do just that, take a look around to see if he spotted something Dean had missed. And yet…
It was killing Dean to admit it, even to himself, but there was something going on with this baby brother that just set off all kinds of warning bells in his brain.
Not that he could put his finger on it, he admitted to himself as Sam stepped out of sight behind a particularly large boulder. But just...his Hunter's instincts were screaming at him: Danger. Caution. There's a Monster near.
And there was, he reminded himself firmly. That evil bitch was probably less than 40 feet from them, right now.
But that's not what you're feeling, the Hunter in him warned.
Yes, it is, he told himself firmly. Because as much as his Hunter instincts were howling, his Big Brother instincts knew better. It's Sammy. And Sammy is NOT a Monster. Sammy could never be a Monster.
Sure of that? Hunter Dean wondered.
"Completely," Big Brother Dean said out loud, ending the argument.
He was just about to follow Sam behind the boulder— because that was the most logical place for them to try to go up, not because he was worried that Sam might be up to something bad — when his brother's head popped up around the boulder and he waved Dean over.
"'Sup?" Dean asked.
"Take a look," Sam said, pointing at the rock wall that intersected the ledge wall at a nearly 90 degree angle. "See those indents, where the rock has shifted a bit, crumbled a little? I tested them, and they held. They continue on above the top of the ledge. I think we can free climb up to her."
Dean studied the indents carefully, placing his foot in one of the lower indentations and his hand higher up. It supported his weight, all right.
It also wasn't there when you looked before, Hunter Dean whispered quietly in his head.
So I missed it, Big Brother Dean snapped back. They're small, same color as the wall, you'd have to be right next to it to see it. I didn't look closely enough, that's all.
You did.
Did not.
Did.
Not!
DID, and you know perfectly fucking well you did.
Don't you take that tone with me! Big Brother Dean responded, And don't swear.
Hunter Dean just raised an eyebrow and snorted a short laugh.
Shuddup.
"Yeah, looks good," Dean agreed. "Still have your lighter fluid on you? Matches?"
Sam nodded. "And the machete. Let's go gank this bitch," he added and moved towards the wall.
"HEY!" Dean hissed, and grabbed his kid by the back of his coat. "I go up first," he said, pushed Sam behind him and started to climb, ignoring the way Sam rolled his eyes behind him, because even if he couldn't see his little brother, he knew that look and exactly when and why Sam gave it to him.
"Jerk," Sam quietly and followed him up the wall.
"Bitch," Dean hissed back out of pure reflex, and concentrated on the climb.
About 10 feet off the ground, the trail of holes split into two, allowing him to take one course (closer the the ledge wall, and therefore closer to the dangerous monster above, naturally), while Sam climbed parallel to him.
Well, that's certainly convenient, isn't it? Hunter Dean whispered in his head. What do you think the odds would be of a sheer rock wall developing perfect holes for free climbing not once, but TWICE?
Better than the odds of Sammy being some kind of Monster, so SHUT IT, Big Brother Dean replied, and Hunter Dean stopped grousing about Sammy, and turned his full attention to the hunt at hand.
Dean hung from the last foot-and-hand-hold combination, and glanced to his left as Sam climbed up beside him.
Their eyes met and Sam raised an eyebrow. Now what?
Dean glanced at the top of the wall that hid the ledge from which they could now hear a low chanting followed by a soft cracking noise. Let me take a peak, his green eyes told his brother and he slowly raised his head over the edge of the wall. After a second's observation — all Hunter Dean, now firmly in control, needed — he ducked back down and met Sam's eyes again. He dipped his head down and silently, and in the perfect synchronization that tended to freak other people out, the brothers climbed down about 10 feet, before Dean raised a fist signaling a stop.
Dean leaned towards his brother, and Sam leaned in close enough that they could almost whisper in each other's ear.
"She's up there," Dean confirmed. "She's at the far end of the ledge, and she's, I don't know, chanting at a rock."
Seems like there's a lot of that going around, Hunter Dean observed silently.
Fuck off, Big Brother Dean replied.
"A rock?" Sam repeated. "Let me take a look," he decided and before Dean could stop him, scrambled back up the wall to quickly peak over the edge, returning to Dean's side under 20 seconds.
Dean frowned, looking at the wide-eyed, somewhat unfocused look in his brother's eyes. "What?"
Sam nodded slowly. "I get it now," he whispered.
"What? Get what, Sammy? Wanna let me in on this?"
Sam shook himself visibly and looked at his brother. "It's not a rock," he told Dean. "At least I don't think it is, and if I'm right, that explains the bones."
"Okay, genius. Want to let the mere mortal know? If it's not a rock — 'cause it looked like a rock, Sammy. A very round rock, but still a rock — If it's not a rock, what the fuck is it?"
"It—I think it's—I think it's an egg," Sam whispered. "Or a chrysalis, maybe."
"An egg," Dean repeated and brought up a mental image of the rock he'd seen and the hag gently caressing it. "Yeah! Yeah, now that you say it, I think you're right. But what do you get now?"
"The remains," Sam told his brother and paused.
Dean tipped his head to the side and gave his brother an and…. look.
"Remember the last set of remains that were found? The coroner put the ages of the victims at between six and twenty-five."
"Right. So….?"
"But the missing kids from the last round — from ten years ago — were between the ages of six and fifteen," Sam explained and looked at his brother expectantly.
It took Dean a second — but only a second — to get it. "Holy shit," he breathed. "She's keeping some of them alive..."
"...to feed her kid," Sam continued with him.
"Son of a bitch!"
"I think that chanting she's doing is to crack the egg, or chrysalis or whatever the hell it is, is to help it...hatch."
"Son of a bitch," Dean repeated. "So now we've got two of 'em to gank."
Sam nodded.
"Doesn't change much," Dean decided after a second's more deliberation. "We still have to kill her first. Preferably before she opens the egg, but if not, well — do we think that thing'll come out immediately ready to fight?"
"Probably not," Sam agreed. "It's more likely it'll come out ready to feed."
"Oh, that's a lovely thought."
"Sorry."
Dean shrugged. "Whatever," he decided. "Plan's the same. Get up and on to the ledge as quickly as possible, get to her, cut her head off and burn the bitch. Then we deal with Junior."
Sam nodded and without another sound, the brothers climbed back up to their previous positions, just below the lip of the ledge wall.
Dean looked at Sam, green eyes holding haze.
Like one person, Sam and Dean reached their arms up to grab the top of the wall.
They looked at each other again, and nodded slowly, together.
One.
Two
THREE
The brothers Winchester pulled themselves up and over the wall, landing nimbly on their feet and, still mirroring each other's movements, pulled their machetes.
Without looking at each other again, they split up, Dean taking the forward path directly to the hag that was now standing up from the half-open egg —great, going to have to deal with Junior rather than later — and hissing at the approaching Hunter.
Sam ducked behind some scattered boulders near the inner wall of the ledge and began to make his way slowly around, behind the bitch.
The fugly hissed again and flew — not flew, leaped Dean thought, irrelevantly, understanding now how Ryan would think the bitch could fly — straight at Dean, long, thick claws outstretched.
She impacted Dean's chest and her claws started digging in, ripping through his heavy canvas jacket and two shirts like they were paper, and he felt the burn of her talons — funny how he was starting to think of her in bird terms, what with the egg and the nearly flying thing — her talons piercing his skin.
He grabbed her right hand with his left, and brought his machete up to defend himself.
The hag hissed three words, guttural and dark-sounding. His hands went limp and the machete clattered to the ground, while her talons — unfettered now by his interference — dug further into his skin.
He could feel something flowing under his skin, into his blood, hot and dark, and the world started to go blurry. He shook his head sharply, trying to clear his vision, and saw her open her mouth, revealing a sucker-like tongue which moved inexorably towards his neck.
The talons dug in deeper and he gasped, would have screamed if he'd been able to breathe enough, but suddenly there was no air, no sound, nothing but the sucker digging sharply into his neck, excruciating pain in his chest as the talons, he was pretty sure, punctured his lungs.
The hag screeched and even through the blur, Dean could see the flash of metal parallel to the ground, and warm, sticky goo covered his face and chest, as Sam kicked the decapitated fugly off him, then kicked the rolling head further away.
"Took you long enough," Dean wheezed, and blackness took him.