Ok, wow, I haven't wrote in FOREVER and I don't know why, I've just been busy. You know, watching the show, reading the stories, playing soccer, enjoying freshmen and sophomore year. Living life.
But that doesn't matter, because now I am back. I don't even know if any of the other people that used to read my stories still do fanfiction, but we'll see, hopefully I'll get a couple reviews. I have a short, humorous/angst-y one shot about Halloween. See I was trick-or-treating when it just came to me how annoying it must be with having to get up every 5 seconds to give some kids candy. And then this just came to me. So here it is.
WOW, this turned out MUCH longer than I intended it to be. And ahh, I don't know how much I like it. But I will post it anyway.
Oh by the way, I defiantly started writing this LAST YEAR. That just goes to show you how hectic my life is haha. I started writing it last Halloween, and lookie there, I finally finished. Yay! I hope you enjoy it!
Disclaimer: I do not profit at all from this writing and do no own supernatural in anyway.
Sam is 17 and Dean is 21.
"I HATE Halloween!" Dean Winchester thought to himself as he swayed back and forth, supporting the lanky, 6' 4" frame of his brother.
"Arg, come on Sammy, we're almost there," Dean gasped out in the exertion of having Sam's full weight leaning on him.
A languid, barely conscious Sam mumbled something softy about his head and back.
"Yeah, I know your head and back hurt, little brother. You did just fall 15 feet from a second story window onto them." Dean paused as a feeling of horror crept up on him again as the image of Sam sailing through the glass flashed in his mind. Thinking of how he needed to get Sammy into a bed, he pushed the repulsion back and concentrated on the task at hand.
Dean could see the door to their room and had let out a sigh of relief right before Sam made things more complicated.
"I'm gonna sleep now, kay Dean?" Sam said incoherently, letting his knees buckle and sliding down the wall into a sitting position.
"No! Bad Sammy! Sam, you gotta stay awake!" Dean said, trying to lift his brother off the ground again.
Apparently to Dean, Sam had chosen to ignore his brother's orders and do exactly the opposite because the youngest Winchester was out cold before his butt even touched the concrete.
"God-damn it," Dean swore. But it could be worse, he told himself. Dad could be here, instead on at that poltergeist hunt. God, would he be furious.
Currently, they were only a couple feet from their rented inn room. All Dean had to do was get his currently sleeping brother inside and onto a bed and they'd be home free.
So the oldest Winchester did just that, lifting his brother over his shoulder and stumbled into their room. He dropped the dead-weight on to the bed and began to assess Sam's injuries.
"Ahh, Sammy! You're just always getting yourself into trouble aren't you?" he sighed as he spotted the large bloodied gash in the midst of the mop of shaggy hair. He grabbed a cloth, filled a bowl with water, and started to clean the wound.
"You just had to play a damn trick on him didn't you?" Dean internally scolded himself. The thought that this all could have been avoided if he had just left his little brother alone made him want to kick himself.
To think this all started only 2 hours ago…
2 Hours Earlier…
"And you sure this isn't just some stupid town legend?"
The boys got out of the Impala and grabbed their stuff from the trunk. They each took a shotgun and some rock salt rounds and headed towards the large, ominous house in front of them.
"I'm positive! I mean, people have died in there. It seems pretty legit," Dean said, sounding completely serious while actually holding back a snicker.
"Yeah, well, ok. How does the legend go again?"
Dean giggled on the inside, laughing at how gullible his brother was. "It all started about 10 years ago when this rich family moved in here. At first everything was all happy, you know, apple pie, white picket fence and crap happy. But then about two months later the Cartels, that was the family, started telling their neighbors how the everything in the house was just started to stop working: flickering lights, backed up plumbing, rat scratching noises with no rats; the typical signs of one of our friendly friends. So, anyway, two weeks after the… symptoms start, the oldest daughter dies. She's found hanging by a rope in the attic. Everyone says that she did it to herself. Her two little brothers, Jack and James, say different. They say that they heard her screaming for help, but couldn't get into the attic because it was locked. That's why they called the cops. Well, these kids are only about 10, so, of course, no one believes them. 3 days later, the mom's are dead too, stabbed to death. The only ones that were home when it happened were the mom and the boys, so, naturally, the dad thinks it's those two. He goes insane in his grief and throws the kids through the second-story window and to their death, then kills himself with a 9mm. Now, while you were off at school one day, me and dad came here and expelled the poltergeist. But, supposedly, last week some kids went in the door, and two of them when out the window, exactly like Jack and James, after watching one of their other friends be hung and one of them be stabbed to death. These kids were the fourth ones in the past year and a half."
The whole story about the family was true, but Dean had added the ending about the kids falling out the window, the hunt, and such. He had heard about how someone had disappeared after going in the house when they were in town, but Dean was sure it was just a stupid rumor. He was planning to give Sammy a little Halloween scare.
"So you think that the little boys are making the kids that come in here go through what they went through?" Sam questioned.
"No, I think it's the dad actually."
"Well, then all we gotta do is a salt and burn."
"Not exactly. See that is what me and Dad did last time."
"Do you think maybe there is some blood left or something?"
"Probably." Dean said, barely able to hold his composure. "How about we go inside and check it out."
"Now? Dean, we don't even know anything. We have no idea what we're walking into."
"Aw, Sammy. Always the logical one, aren't you?"
"We'll be fine Sam. I just want to get a feeling of what's going on in there." "And scare the living crap out of you."
"Well, ok… whatever you say Dean."
Dean entered the house, his little brother in tow and looked around. They were in a fairly new kitchen, probably remodeled by the family.
"Hmm… You know, it's going to take us forever if we have to go through this whole house. It would go a lot quicker if we split up," Dean said.
"Split up? Are you crazy?! Dean, were in a house that we've never been in before, we have no idea what we are dealing with, and you want us to split up? Did you hit your head or something?"
"I'm feeling fine, Sammy. I just thought that you would want to hurry up on the hunt so you could go trick or treating tonight," Dean said mockingly.
"Oh, shut up. Fine, we'll split up. But call me if you need me. Keep your cell phone on."
"Sounds good to me, Sammy boy. I'll start in the attic and then make my way down to the first floor. You take the second and then the basement. I'll meet you back here in the kitchen in a half hour."
Sam nodded and Dean started off towards the steps. He was laughing inside but he couldn't help but feel that there was something very wrong about this house.
Pushing his emotions aside, Dean went up the 2 flights of stairs with a smile.
Sam scoured the dusty hallway, the beam of his flashlight sweeping back and forth. Pictures still hung on the walls, displaying the smiling faces after all these years. Upon seeing the photos, the youngest Winchester felt eerie feeling that something was wrong in the house. Instead of feeling a still peacefulness that he usually got while in deserted houses, his stomach felt anxious and tight. Something was wrong in this house, something was unsettled.
He was nearing the end of the hallway when he pasted a closed door. It was the only one that was unopened and he couldn't help but get that feeling in the bottom of his gut that said that room was where he was suppose to go.
Sam reached for the dull metal door knob and felt the drawing electricity between his fingers and the handle. His hand had almost grasped the metal when he heard something that made his heart stop: the pain filled scream of his brother.
"SAMMY! HELP M-"
The incessant ringing interrupted Dean from his thoughts and his ministrations.
"Who the hell could that be?" Dean said, dropping the now bloodied shirt he was washing Sam's face with and walking to the door, gauze pad in hand.
He opened the door to smiling boy wearing a weird yellow box with holes in it.
"Can I… help you?"
"TRICK OR TREAT!!!" the little boy yelled, holding out a little plastic pumpkin.
Dean stared blankly at him for a second, letting a confused "Huh?" slip through his lips.
"Trick. Or. TREAT," the boy repeated with more annoyance than enthusiasm, his little devil eyes screaming 'give me my candy NOW, bitch.'
"Oh! Oh. Oh, shit. I mean… hold on one second."
Dean's tired eyes quickly did a once over of the room before landing on the corner of a Ziploc bag sticking out the corner of Sammy's duffle bag.
Sam happened to have a very big sweet tooth and, lucky for Dean, always kept some candy around in his 'secret' stash.
Dean ran over and fished a smartie out of the bag, careful to avoid the heath bars since he knew those were Geekboy's favorite. There'd be hell to pay the day someone messed with Sam's heath bars.
"Here you go," Dean said almost apologetically, receiving a death glare not only from the boy, but from the dad as well.
So that's where he gets it from.
"Thanks," the boy said evilly, a roll of his eyes to follow. Dean just barely refrained from smacking him upside the head.
"Have a nice night," Dean signed, shutting the door. He returned to his ministrations and his memories.
Sam sprinted through the hallways, his heart pounding in his ears.
"DEAN! DEAN, ANSWER ME!"
No, no, no, no, no. This is not happening. Shit, I knew that we shouldn't have come in. Now Dean's hurt, he could even be-. Oh, god, let him be ok.
He ran to the place Dean was before, where he assumed the stairs to the attic to be. He raced up them before he could even process that he was going up stairs, only to be met with a sight that would be seared into his brain until the day he died.
There, dangling in the center of the room, hung Dean. He was being held up solely by the noose tied around his neck, swinging to and fro like a broken marionette.
But the worst part of it all was the bluish tint of Dean's face, the limpness of his hands, the lack his of breathing.
Dean was dead.
"No, no, no. DEA-"
"Are you freaking kidding me? Another one?"
Dean pushed himself off the bed and towards the door.
"It's a fricken motel. What kind of parent brings their kid to a motel to-"
The door swung open and the light of his room fell on the hottest woman Dean had seen in a long time. Clad in only a short nurses outfit, a pair of fuzzy stethoscopes hung around her neck.
Now, that's my kind of parent.
"Well, hello there," Dean said in his sexiest voice, "Happy Halloween."
"You too. How you doing tonight?" she said flirtatiously.
"Pretty good, better now. You don't happen to be traveling alone on a night like this are you?" Dean said, his downstairs brain doing all the thinking.
"Is there a problem here, honey?" a gruff voice came from behind the cute nurse. A buff man came and joined her, dressed in a doctor's outfit and dragging a fat little boy behind him.
"Oh, no, honey, no problem. Junior, take your candy from the nice man and let's leave," she said with a sly smile.
Dean's own smile had long since diminished, and it didn't reappear as he took another smartie from Sam's stash.
"Here you go." He handed the candy over to the boy, a small pout evident on his face. Why were all the hot chicks always already taken?
It was probably better anyway, because Dean knew that he'd never be able to leave Sam alone tonight, even if he turned out to be perfectly fine. He be a worried mess all night and the guilt in his stomach weighed too much.
"No, no, no. DEAN!"
Dean almost felt bad at the sound of the complete horror in his brother's voice.
Just one more second.
As soon as he felt the hands of his brother trying to get him down, Dean popped his eyes open and 'attacked' Sam, making foolish monster noises.
It only took a glance at Sam's horrified face to break Dean's reserve and he stared laughing. Hysterically laughing actually.
"HAHA, you should have seen your FACE. I thought you were going to pee yourself!" Dean laughed, untying the noose from around his neck and releasing the harness suspending him above the ground. Man, that thing was uncomfortable.
Dean continued to laugh, but Sam still looked shell shocked.
"That wasn't funny. I really thought you were…" Sam stared at the ground, unable to look his brother in the eye.
"Well, I'm fine. It was joke. You know your just mad because I nearly made you pee yourself. Just admit it." Dean poked Sam in the stomach, making him flinch.
A small smile crept up on the corner of the 17-year-olds mouth.
"You're such an asshole," he laughed.
"Come on, little one. Let's get you home so we can go out twick-or-tweating," Dean laughed, mockingly. They made their way down the stairs and down the hallway, passing the room Sam had almost entered before.
The younger boy shivered and stopped in his tracks, that familiar feeling of dread returning.
"Dean, I think this house really is haunted," he said, his voice dead-panned.
"Dude, I already got you. Don't try to scare me, its not going to work. Give up."
"No, Dean, I'm serious. There's just something about that room down there." He pointed down the hallway at the closed door.
"Yeah, okkaaayyy, Sherlock. This house is not haunted. I made it up. Why don't you go check it out, and I'll wait outside," Dean laughed, convinced his brother was trying to spook him, and there was no way he was letting that happen.
With that, Dean patted his brother on the shoulder and continued outside to his car.
I swear to god, someone will be dead before the end of this night.
Dean really hadn't thought this many people when trick or treating anymore. He pushed himself off the bed, and glanced at Sammy, still looking a little too pale, before going to get the door.
"I don't have any candy," he said blatantly to the group of drunk teenagers standing at his door.
"Oh, but baby, you ARE candy," said one of the more intoxicated girls wearing a slutty bumble-bee outfit. The smell of alcohol was evident on her breath.
"Okkkaayyy. Time to go. See you later," Dean said, trying to shut the door.
But the little bumblebee that could held it open.
"Oh, honey, give momma a kiss."
Now Dean was getting annoyed. He shoved her out the door, slamming it behind her.
Letting out an angry sigh, he returned to Sam's side. There was a slight sheen of sweat on his face from a slight fever, but other than that, the kid was gonna be fine, thank god.
The night could have turned out a LOT worse.
Sam walked toward the ominous room, the chill in his bones greatening with each step.
Finally he reached his destination. The second his palm made contact with the rusted doorknob, an energy cracked through his body, making him nearly convulse. He took a deep breath and opened the door.
"What the hell is Sam doing in there?"
Dean was sitting out in the Impala, the heat fogging up the windows. It had been about 15 minutes since Dean had left his brother alone to venture the 'haunted house', and the hairs on the back of his neck were starting to stand up. Whether it was because of annoyance or worry, he didn't know, but Dean found himself exiting the car and heading toward the house, lighter fuel, matches, and shotgun in hand.
"Bobby, honey! What in the world are you doing with that knife?'
Ok, this sure wasn't what I was expecting.
Sam stood in the middle of the room, observing as a young woman stood with a man, probably her husband, and both of them were oblivious to him.
"I'm sorry Meredith. We just can't go on like this. It has to end."
He drew closer to her and Sam stepped instinctively in front of her, even though, to them, he didn't exist.
"It was you, wasn't it? You killed our daughter, our Katie! Bob, how could you?" she cried.
"I'm sorry, this is they way it has to be."
He stabbed through Sam as if he wasn't even there, killing his wife and eliciting a small cry from Sam.
Dean moseyed his way up the stairs, still pretty sure this was all part of Sam's pathetic attempt to scare him.
He's just pissed because I got him good. Dean thought smugly.
A small cry was heard just as Dean reached the second floor. It would have barely been heard by anyone else, but for Dean, it rang through the hall, through is ears, through his veins.
Through his heart.
And suddenly, Dean Winchester found himself running.
"This is getting ridiculous!!"
For the millionth time that night, Dean stood from his perch at the edge of Sam's bed. He stomped his way over to the door where he was met with a particularly creepy-looking little boy in a vampire outfit.
The little boy just stared at Dean's shoes, blinking creepily and holding his candy basket out.
This seemed to have no effect on the boy as he continued to stare at Dean's shoes, only giving a small shake of the basket.
"Oh, I'm sorry, I'm all out of candy."
As if a light had been switched on, the little boys eyes flicked up to meet Dean's, filled with fury.
He shook the basket again.
Completely creeped out, Dean dug Sam's last piece of candy out of the bag, his heath bar. With a sad look on his face, Dean dropped it in the little boy's basket, suddenly feeling as if he had just betrayed his little boy, his Sammy.
Instantly Dean was hit with a memory of Sammy, all decked out in his little Robin outfit, and Dean, while feeling that he, himself was too old for costumes, was dressed up as Batman. Sam was six and Dean was ten. They went to every house on the block, with the sole purpose of getting Sammy a heath bar and Dean a 100 Grand bar. They came back with loads of candy, but not what they had hoped for. Sam didn't eat one piece of his candy because he was so upset.
The next day, Dean brought all his candy to school for trading, just as he did every year. He was just about to trade all of his tootsie rolls for a 100 Grand bar, when he saw that another kid had a heath bar. He asked the kid what he wanted for it, but he said that he wasn't trading that one.
"How about if I give you all my candy?"
Dean returned home that day, his candy bag a whole lot lighter, but his smile a whole lot bigger. When he handed little Sam the heath bar, his whole face lit up. Dean's younger brother had giggled and pulled something out of his own nearly empty candy bag.
A 100 Grand bar.
"Thank you," said the unbelievably deep voice of the little vampire, drawing Dean away from his thoughts.
"Huh? Oh yeah, no problem… um… bye?" Dean said as the boy continued to stare at him.
Finally, they broke eye contact and the vampire disappeared into the night.
What a sketch ball. I better run to a store before another creepy comes along or Sam realizes his beloved heath bar is gone.
Dean walked over to Sam's side and shook him lightly until he came to a slight awareness.
"Sam, I'm going out to get candy, because that little boy just scared me into giving him your heath bar. I'll be back."
Dean knew that Sam probably didn't understand any of that, but it felt wrong to leave without saying anything.
"Jamie! Jackie! Get up here boys. There you are," the ghost said staring at Sam.
"What? My name is Sam!" the youngest Winchester tried to announce, but instead found himself saying "Daddy, what happened to Mommy?" in a fearful, young voice that was not his own.
"Don't worry, Jamie, you will be joining Mommy soon."
Dean raced down the hallway, trying desperately to remember what room Sam thought was haunted.
He finally found it, only to discover it was locked tight.
"Sam?! Sammy?!" he yelled.
He could hear Sam talking to someone, but he couldn't make out the words.
"I'm coming Sammy," he whispered to himself.
Sam could hear his brother calling to him from outside the room, but he couldn't call back as the ghostly Bobby Cartel grabbed him by the arm and pushed him roughly towards the window.
Dean tried fruitlessly to bust through the door by ramming his shoulder into it.
"God-damit! Hold on Sam!"
As Sam felt the glass begin to shatter behind his back, he broke out of his trance and he screamed the only thing on his mind as he fell to what very well could be his death.
A wheezy, annoying voice drew Dean from his thoughts.
He was standing at the register of the local CVS, purchasing two nice big bags of heath bars and 100-Grands.
"Dean? That is your name right?" the cashier said, waving his credit card and driver's license in front of his face.
"Yes, and thanks," he said grabbing the two items from her.
She was dressed up as some kind of club girl, wearing a short skirt and an extremely tight tube top, and outfit someone with her… curves… should not be wearing, and he couldn't tell if her makeup was part of the costume or not. She was giving him this weird look, and Dean didn't know if it was suppose to be flirtatious or she just had gas.
"See you later handsome."
Dean smiled nervously. Guess it was the former.
Dean managed to kick the door down at the exact second his baby brothers weight broke the thin glass of the second story window.
Just in time to see the horror on his face, the pleading in his eyes.
The screaming of his name.
"Jackie, I'm sorry son. I know you loved your brother but I had to do it. I had to."
Dean watched in awe as the two previously unnoticed ghostly figures grappled.
"No, Daddy! No!" screamed the little boy as his father shoved him out the window. Bob then continued to pull a gun out of his back pocket and shot himself in the mouth, the ghostly blood-splatter landing exactly where the actual one did, and still remained.
Acting quickly, Dean doused the wall that was splattered with blood with lighter fluid and salt, then set it on fire.
There was an eerie shriek, and then Bob Cartel was put to rest.
Not that that mattered to Dean, for he was already half way to Sammy before Bob even had a chance to cry out.
"Jesus! I'm coming!" Once again, Dean answered the door. Immediately he was hit with a chorus of never-ending words, all mixed together too fast to understand anything the kid was saying.
"Hey, hi, how's it going, what's up? I'm Jake, but you can call me Flash. See, cause that is what I'm being; Flash. I really wanted to be Superman, but we couldn't find a costume in time, because my mom didn't want to bring me too early, but then we just ended up going too late, so all they had left was flash and my mom said it was fitting. She seemed kindda annoyed when she said that, but she always seems really annoyed when I'm with her for a while. Probably because I talk so much. Talk, talk, talk, talk, talk. My doctor says that I'm just hyperactive and it will wear off when I get older, but my mom doesn't think she can wait that long. Too bad. That is why I'm by myself, it's my first time going trick or treating my by self. OH WHAT AM I DOING?! TRICK OR TREAT!"
It took a while for Dean to realize what just happened before he took two candy bars and dropped them into the bag.
"Oh, wow, thanks so much. I love heath bar! And 100 Grand's. I don't know which ones I like more. Which ones do you like bet-."
His words were cut off by the slamming of the door. Dean would have usually just let him talk, but tonight was too long, too stressful, and the image of Sam soaring through that window wouldn't stop replaying through his mind.
Dean Winchester was a pretty fast guy who had his different speeds, like gears on a bike.
There was the slow-paced 'I'm slacking off in gym even though I could run circles around all of these guys' walk.
Then there was the slightly faster "Ohh, long lunch line with a hot girl at the end. Peerrr-fect chance to catch up" jog.
There was always the "Oh, shit, I'm being chased by an evil monster that is going to eat me" run.
And finally there was the Sammy Sprint.
This was when Dean ran so fast that everything around him was just a blur, not that it mattered anyway, because the only thing that was on his mind when he was in this gear was Sammy.
This was his current gear. Full out, full on Sammy Sprint.
He reached his brother before he had even processed he was outside.
"Sam! Sammy!" He tapped his little brother's face, trying desperately to arouse him.
The youngest Winchester had a nice gash in the back of his head, but other than that and a few cuts, Dean couldn't find anything else wrong with his brother. Dean let out a sigh of relieve and, after checking Sam's neck and back carefully, decided it was safe to move it. He pulled his little brother upper body onto his lap and into his arms, trying gently to wake him up.
"Sam, wakey wakey! Come on, Sammy, stop messing around. Open your eyes!"
Finally he was awarded with the fluttering of the young eyes.
"D-dean?" the slightly raspy voice asked.
"Right here, little guy. I got you," Dean comforted, assessing Sam's awareness.
"Who you calling little, you shrimp."
"Shut up, Samantha. How you feeling?"
In truth, everything except Dean was a complete fog to Sam, and his eyelids were feeling a little droopy.
"Pretty good. Just tired. I think I'm gonna take a nap now…" his eyes slid back shut. He heard his brother yelling at him, but he figured he'd just ignored him for now.
But a hard slap woke him from his light slumber.
"SAM! You have to stay awake! We have to get you to the car." Dean said, worry etched into his face.
"Okay, okay, I'll stay away. But I'm not making any promises when we get there."
Dean sat at the edge of Sam's bed, checking on Sam's wound and running his hand through Sam's bangs.
Suddenly, Sam started moaning and opened his eyes.
"Oh, look who decided to rise and shine!" Dean said with a laugh.
"Owww, what happened?" Sam groaned.
"You thought you were Tinker Bell and tried to fly out of a 2 story window. Funny stuff," Dean said, even though he saw absolutely no humor in to what-so-ever.
"'Yeah, okkaaayyy, Sherlock. This house is not haunted. I made it up.' Yeah right! I told you it was haunted," Sam said tauntingly.
"Haha, yeah sorry about that. But I'm pretty sure I've paid for my wrongs. You have no IDEA how many little trick-or-treating people see motels as like a freaking beacon!"
Sam laughed, and Dean was finally completely relieved that his brother is ok, that they got past another hunt unscathed.
Sam yawned and his eyes started to droop again.
"Go back to sleep, we'll talk in the morning," Dean said soothingly, covering Sam with the blankets.
"Thanks, Dean. Night," Sam slurred, and he was out like a light.
Ahhh, finally! Now I can go to sleep!
Dean plopped down on his own bed, his eyes drifting close, his muscles relaxing, his thoughts-
Yay! I hope you guys liked it! It was pretty fun to write, kindda hard to get back into the groove. But still fun. Ahhhh, I know you guys who used to read my old stuff probably want and interview with Sam and Dean, but I'm just drained! Let's just say that if I made one it would involve Sam being dressed up as an adorable little pumpkin, and Dean dressed in a dress and then screaming at me "WHAT KIND OF SICK JOKE IS THIS?" And running out and changing. That's all I got. Hehe sorry, maybe I'll write it later!