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phantismaFandom: Supernatural
Title: Hansel & Gretel
Pairing/Characters: Dean, Sam (mostly Dean)
Rating: R (for character death)
Word Count: 1055
Summary: For![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
marishna’s Death Ficathon. Major Character Death. This is for the prompt: cannibalism. Sam and Dean investigate the disappearance of two kids, and happen upon an enchanted cabin and a little old woman, with a taste for human flesh.
A/Ns & Warnings: Major Character death ...Just in case you hadn't figured that out. Um...also, pay attention to the prompt: Cannibalism. It isn't overly graphic...but...yeah...I'm sick twist.
This wasn’t how it was meant to end.
Okay, so he had never really considered it ending…it wasn’t his style, that was what he had Sam for. This certainly wasn’t right, though, Dean Winchester was sure of that.
The blood loss was starting to make thinking difficult. He looked down at his body and shuddered.
They’d seen their fair share of sick and twisted, but nothing like this. Damn fairy tale cases anyway.
It started innocently enough. Two kids gone missing, nothing found but a pile of bones. Okay, not innocent, but not this. Sam thought it was an animal spirit or rogue black dog. Then they found the cabin.
Okay, so it wasn’t made of gingerbread and covered in candy. But it was definitely spelled to make it attractive. Dean could feel the pull when they got within 100 yards. Sam’s huge paw on the back of his jacket was the only thing that kept him from blundering in to god only knew what.
Only, Dean knew what now.
He hoped Sam found a way to cut through the mojo…but it wouldn’t be soon enough. Blood still seeped out of his leg, despite the tourniquet. The little old woman puttered nearby, cutting vegetables from the garden outside the small cabin. “Meat’s gonna be stringy, Alfy,” she said to the next room. “Not enough fat.”
Dean laughed at that…laughed because the whole thing was ridiculous. “Be quiet you!” She hit him with a spatula…and he only laughed harder. Here he was, Dean Winchester, laid flat by an old lady in the middle of nowhere.
“My brother is so gonna kick your ass, Granny.” Dean said, laying his head back on the pile of produce behind him on the table.
“Don’t you fret about it, boy.” She went back to dropping her chopped vegetables into the stew pot on the stove. “Alfy likes liver for breakfast…” As if that meant anything. Maybe it did.
She waved a hand over his face and Dean’s eyes fluttered closed.
Six Hours Before
“There’s no one in there but a little old woman, Sam.”
“We don’t know that. She’s just the only one we’ve seen.”
Dean frowned. “You thinking this is where the kids went?”
“They found the bones not far from here, so yeah.”
“You’re thinking Granny did it? Cause I gotta be honest Sam, I don’t see that little old lady killing two kids.”
“We won’t know until we can get in there. Maybe she just lures them in…maybe she’s like the witch in Hansel and Gretel.”
“Hansel and Gretel?” Dean moved so he could see the bent old woman in her garden. “She looks harmless.”
Sam snorted. “That’s what you said about the siren in Lancaster.”
“Yeah, whatever. So how do we get in without getting mojo’ed?”
“I think I know how to beat it, but I’ll need some things.” Sam said as the squatted in the bushes, just outside the area of influence. “I’ll go back to town. You stay here and make sure no one goes in.”
“Bring me a coffee?”
Twelve Hours Later
Dean was fairly sure those would be his last words to his brother…which sucked really…because last words should be more profound than a request for coffee. His father’s last words for example…those had been meaningful.
Of course, it was one more promise he was going to fail to keep.
It wasn’t his fault. Not really. She’d known he was there. She’d played him. Wandered out of the mojo zone and stumbled…right in front of him.
Idly he wondered why he wasn’t dead yet. She said something about liking to keep the meat fresh…and it wasn’t like he was going to run away. He lifted his head and looked around the kitchen. It was dark and he was alone.
Where the hell was Sam?
If he was going to go out like this, Sam damn well better take care of this bitch…and Alfy…whoever the hell Alfy was…All he knew was that Alfy liked liver for breakfast…and apparently that he liked legs in a stew.
“Come on Sammy…don’t let me down.”
The lights came on and Granny hobbled in, all bent over her cane. He knew it was at least partially an act…because she’d dragged his ass in here, got him up on the table. He hadn’t seen anyone else.
She poked at him with one bony finger, pressing into his stomach. “Damn muscles…didn’t your mama feed you boy?”
“Fuck you.”
“You watch your mouth.”
She lifted a knife and positioned it over him. “You wanna watch? Sometimes I can keep them alive after taking out the vitals…for a little while…so you can see.”
“You’re sick.”
He yelled as she cut into him and she laughed…until she suddenly stopped. She looked startled. Sam. Finally.
“No.” she muttered. Her hands lifted out of him, bloody and holding something. She held it up for him to see and laughed. “Too late.”
She dropped it in a frying pan and tossed her head around to the sound of the sizzle before she hobbled out the kitchen door. There was shrieking…then the door was thrown open and Sam’s boots pounded down the two stairs into the kitchen.
“Dean?”
Sam’s face came into view above his. “Hey, Sammy…you made it…” No more profound than the coffee thing…he’d have to work on that.
“Oh my god, Dean…Dean.”
Sam was panicking. Fair enough. It isn’t everyday you come to rescue your brother and find him missing his legs and liver…or bubbling blood. “You got her? Granny?”
His hands were trying to staunch the flow of blood. “What? Yeah, she’s…gone. What…what did she do?”
The boy wasn’t getting it. Dean tried to reach for him, but his arms didn’t seem to work. “You…be good…okay…”
“No…stay with me, Dean.”
“Sam…they ate me…fucking cannibals…” Dean laughed weakly. Their life was definitely strange. “You…you should go back to school…okay? There’s…there’s some money in the trunk…in the box…It’s for you.”
“Stop. Dean. I’ve got to get you out of here.”
“Too late Sammy…too late…I’m sorry.”
The frying pan sizzled in the quiet and Sam turned slowly, his face going even paler as he realized…”Dean?”
“You…go back to school, okay, Sammy…be a lawyer…be somebody…be somebody good…”
“Dean…”
There was blood everywhere, Sam’s coat and hands, his face…Dean smiled. “Love you Sammy.” Last words should be profound. Those would have to do.
Title: Hansel & Gretel
Pairing/Characters: Dean, Sam (mostly Dean)
Rating: R (for character death)
Word Count: 1055
Summary: For
marishna’s Death Ficathon. Major Character Death. This is for the prompt: cannibalism. Sam and Dean investigate the disappearance of two kids, and happen upon an enchanted cabin and a little old woman, with a taste for human flesh.A/Ns & Warnings: Major Character death ...Just in case you hadn't figured that out. Um...also, pay attention to the prompt: Cannibalism. It isn't overly graphic...but...yeah...I'm sick twist.
This wasn’t how it was meant to end.
Okay, so he had never really considered it ending…it wasn’t his style, that was what he had Sam for. This certainly wasn’t right, though, Dean Winchester was sure of that.
The blood loss was starting to make thinking difficult. He looked down at his body and shuddered.
They’d seen their fair share of sick and twisted, but nothing like this. Damn fairy tale cases anyway.
It started innocently enough. Two kids gone missing, nothing found but a pile of bones. Okay, not innocent, but not this. Sam thought it was an animal spirit or rogue black dog. Then they found the cabin.
Okay, so it wasn’t made of gingerbread and covered in candy. But it was definitely spelled to make it attractive. Dean could feel the pull when they got within 100 yards. Sam’s huge paw on the back of his jacket was the only thing that kept him from blundering in to god only knew what.
Only, Dean knew what now.
He hoped Sam found a way to cut through the mojo…but it wouldn’t be soon enough. Blood still seeped out of his leg, despite the tourniquet. The little old woman puttered nearby, cutting vegetables from the garden outside the small cabin. “Meat’s gonna be stringy, Alfy,” she said to the next room. “Not enough fat.”
Dean laughed at that…laughed because the whole thing was ridiculous. “Be quiet you!” She hit him with a spatula…and he only laughed harder. Here he was, Dean Winchester, laid flat by an old lady in the middle of nowhere.
“My brother is so gonna kick your ass, Granny.” Dean said, laying his head back on the pile of produce behind him on the table.
“Don’t you fret about it, boy.” She went back to dropping her chopped vegetables into the stew pot on the stove. “Alfy likes liver for breakfast…” As if that meant anything. Maybe it did.
She waved a hand over his face and Dean’s eyes fluttered closed.
Six Hours Before
“There’s no one in there but a little old woman, Sam.”
“We don’t know that. She’s just the only one we’ve seen.”
Dean frowned. “You thinking this is where the kids went?”
“They found the bones not far from here, so yeah.”
“You’re thinking Granny did it? Cause I gotta be honest Sam, I don’t see that little old lady killing two kids.”
“We won’t know until we can get in there. Maybe she just lures them in…maybe she’s like the witch in Hansel and Gretel.”
“Hansel and Gretel?” Dean moved so he could see the bent old woman in her garden. “She looks harmless.”
Sam snorted. “That’s what you said about the siren in Lancaster.”
“Yeah, whatever. So how do we get in without getting mojo’ed?”
“I think I know how to beat it, but I’ll need some things.” Sam said as the squatted in the bushes, just outside the area of influence. “I’ll go back to town. You stay here and make sure no one goes in.”
“Bring me a coffee?”
Twelve Hours Later
Dean was fairly sure those would be his last words to his brother…which sucked really…because last words should be more profound than a request for coffee. His father’s last words for example…those had been meaningful.
Of course, it was one more promise he was going to fail to keep.
It wasn’t his fault. Not really. She’d known he was there. She’d played him. Wandered out of the mojo zone and stumbled…right in front of him.
Idly he wondered why he wasn’t dead yet. She said something about liking to keep the meat fresh…and it wasn’t like he was going to run away. He lifted his head and looked around the kitchen. It was dark and he was alone.
Where the hell was Sam?
If he was going to go out like this, Sam damn well better take care of this bitch…and Alfy…whoever the hell Alfy was…All he knew was that Alfy liked liver for breakfast…and apparently that he liked legs in a stew.
“Come on Sammy…don’t let me down.”
The lights came on and Granny hobbled in, all bent over her cane. He knew it was at least partially an act…because she’d dragged his ass in here, got him up on the table. He hadn’t seen anyone else.
She poked at him with one bony finger, pressing into his stomach. “Damn muscles…didn’t your mama feed you boy?”
“Fuck you.”
“You watch your mouth.”
She lifted a knife and positioned it over him. “You wanna watch? Sometimes I can keep them alive after taking out the vitals…for a little while…so you can see.”
“You’re sick.”
He yelled as she cut into him and she laughed…until she suddenly stopped. She looked startled. Sam. Finally.
“No.” she muttered. Her hands lifted out of him, bloody and holding something. She held it up for him to see and laughed. “Too late.”
She dropped it in a frying pan and tossed her head around to the sound of the sizzle before she hobbled out the kitchen door. There was shrieking…then the door was thrown open and Sam’s boots pounded down the two stairs into the kitchen.
“Dean?”
Sam’s face came into view above his. “Hey, Sammy…you made it…” No more profound than the coffee thing…he’d have to work on that.
“Oh my god, Dean…Dean.”
Sam was panicking. Fair enough. It isn’t everyday you come to rescue your brother and find him missing his legs and liver…or bubbling blood. “You got her? Granny?”
His hands were trying to staunch the flow of blood. “What? Yeah, she’s…gone. What…what did she do?”
The boy wasn’t getting it. Dean tried to reach for him, but his arms didn’t seem to work. “You…be good…okay…”
“No…stay with me, Dean.”
“Sam…they ate me…fucking cannibals…” Dean laughed weakly. Their life was definitely strange. “You…you should go back to school…okay? There’s…there’s some money in the trunk…in the box…It’s for you.”
“Stop. Dean. I’ve got to get you out of here.”
“Too late Sammy…too late…I’m sorry.”
The frying pan sizzled in the quiet and Sam turned slowly, his face going even paler as he realized…”Dean?”
“You…go back to school, okay, Sammy…be a lawyer…be somebody…be somebody good…”
“Dean…”
There was blood everywhere, Sam’s coat and hands, his face…Dean smiled. “Love you Sammy.” Last words should be profound. Those would have to do.
