A/N: Story title taken from one of the taglines for the movie Coraline.
Summary: E/O CHALLENGE. Drabble word – Passion(ate). For Sensue. Happy Birthday! This is a Supernatural fic with elements of Coraline. Dean is 16, and Sam is 12. Rated T because Dean cusses. He has good reason to.
Word count each section: One hundred. Boo-yah!
Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural. This is for entertainment only, not for profit.
Sam knew exactly how many homes, how many schools he'd left over the years. Because of the hunting life.
Because of Dad.
Sam ached for normal, and he knew he wasn't going to get it.
He hated this life with a passion.
The Pink Palace Apartments was the tenth home in six months that year.
It was summer. No school, so there was nothing to distract him. Dad hunted some dryad spirit haunting the Garden Life store.
Dean was home. He had a broken arm from the last hunt.
And then Sam found the doll.
It looked exactly like him.
"Look after your brother, Ace," John rumbled before he left for town. "I got this covered."
Dean prowled around the apartment. He was hunting for something, anything, and he did it with a passion.
No boogeyman under the bed. No monsters in the closet.
Dean flirted with Ms. Spink and Ms. Forcible downstairs. It was a pity flirt. Didn't mean anything.
Sam rolled his eyes.
"Ladies," Dean purred softly. They both swooned and Dean smirked.
Sam didn't mention the doll. Or the key.
Or that door behind the wallpaper.
He went through the tunnel two nights in a row.
The Other part of the house looked better.
The food was better.
Dad was better.
"I'm your other father, Sam. Your better one." This Dad had black buttons for eyes. "We can stay in this place," he said. "We don't have to leave. You deserve normal."
Sam considered it.
Until he saw the Other Dean.
"I thought you might like him better if he didn't say anything," the Other Father said.
This Dean's eyes were black buttons. He stood there smiling blankly.
Sam felt any passion he had for this place drain out of him.
He left without saying goodbye.
Dean stood silently in the shadows. He didn't speak until Sam crawled out of the little door and shut it behind him.
"Are we having fun yet?" Dean growled fiercely.
Sam stopped in his tracks when he saw the shotgun.
"I followed you over there. I saw those things. Jesus, Sam, do you really hate Dad that much? Do you really hate me that much?"
"What? No, I don't ---"
"Then tell me what the hell is going on," Dean grated out. "Damn it, Sam---"
Sam's grievances came out of him in a passionate rush of bitter words.
"You're back." The Other Dad murmured to Sam roughly, moments later. "And you've brought vermin with you."
"Vermin?" Dean snarled as he raised the shotgun. He moved cat-like, despite his broken arm, caught up in the passion of the hunt. "Who you callin' vermin, bitch?"
Sam didn't even flinch as the Other Father blew into pieces and died.
They found three small bodies, shriveled, lifeless, behind the hallway mirror.
"You gonna tell Dad?"
"Maybe. We gotta get rid of this key, Sam, so this never happens again."
They salted and burned all the bodies deep inside the woods.
The well was up on the hillside.
Dean dropped a crucifix in with the key. Instant holy water.
"Think that'll be enough?" Sam whispered.
"It should be," Dean whispered back.
Something rustled in the bushes. Both boys smiled a little as the scraggly black cat darted out and ran down the hill.
Dean shrugged. "We better be getting back."
"Don't be so gullible, all right?" Dean rolled his eyes. "Better not happen again, or I'll kick your ass myself."
They left the Pink Palace two days later.
Sam never stopped hating the hunting life with an absolute passion.
Thanks for reading. Please review. I'd appreciate it!