This spine-chilling little tale came to me one night when I was fighting a battle of my own...
(For anyone who's reading Warning: Contraindicated - don't worry, chapter 3 is coming soon! Just took a break to scribble this while my muse went on a brief holiday with that one!)
Disclaimer: Mine? I wish!
It was a hiss, almost inaudible over the rush of water from the shower. But years of hunting had trained his hearing, and his instincts where his brother was concerned were honed razor sharp. Sam was out of the shower and in the bedroom before Dean had time to call out again.
Then he saw it.
He was frozen for a moment, water dripping unheeded. His fingers clutched the towel that wrapped around his waist, his grip taut with more than a desire to preserve his modesty. On the bed Dean sat motionless, his face paler than usual.
How did they fight this?
Sam's gaze skittered to the duffel where their weapons were stashed, their guns and knives and everything that enabled them to face the unthinkable and live to face it again the next day. Instinctively he knew that all of them would be useless against this.
Dean's gaze switched to his face.
"I didn't think that... okay, I forgot."
Horror, disbelief, resignation flickered through Sam's eyes.
"But... the woman at the front desk... she warned us..."
"I know, okay? Next time -"
He paused. Hazel eyes met blue-green, identical expressions of resolve in both.
There's not going to be a next time.
Sam eyed the door.
"You think you can hold on while I go get -"
There was a flicker of movement, and they both froze. Despite himself, Sam let out a yelp.
"Sam. There's no time. We have to take this sucker down, and we have to do it now."
"Sam, it could cause untold damage. If it were to get out..."
"It's not the only one, Dean."
"I know. But we can't think that way. This is the one we're facing, and this is the one we're going to destroy."
Sam nodded slowly.
"So what's our plan?"
Dean's eyes narrowed.
"A two-pronged attack. We approach it from opposite sides. One of us should be able to get it."
"They're fast, Dean."
"I know. But right now it's all we have."
They exchanged glances. Then, moving cautiously, they closed in on the hideous monstrosity. Dean couldn't suppress a shudder as he took a closer look, and he saw the revulsion in his brother's face. It was completely against everything their father had taught them, to go into a hunt utterly unarmed, but they had no choice.
He stopped dead as it turned, obviously not yet aware that it was being stalked, but suspicious. Any second and it would be gone, to wreak havoc who knew where.
But Sam was quicker. There was a blur of movement. Then they were staring, tension bleeding slowly out as they began to accept that it was over. Their foe was gone, squirming feebly in death throes that grew weaker and then faded completely.
Dean's mouth curved in a hesitant grin.
"Thanks, man." Good job.
Sam nodded, his dimples flashing briefly. He ran his hand through his hair.
"Couldn't have done it alone." He turned to go back to the shower, which by now had probably run out of hot water. Then he swung round.
"Dean? Next time, don't forget the cockroach spray."