Stalking Horse Chapters 1 - 4

[dizzojay.livejournal.com]

STALKING HORSE
Rating: T
Genre: Hurt/Comfort/Angst
Word Count: approx 13,000 words

Disclaimer: I own nothing except my own tiny mind

Something is munching on tourists at a lakeside beauty spot. The boys investigate, but a malevolent faerie beastie and fifty million cubic gallons of frigid water conspire to make life difficult for them.
 

 

Chapter 1

 

Fall had swept like an artist's palette over the beautiful mountain town of White Lake. Nestling into the lap of the Rockies, and surrounded by shimmering banks of russet, gold and green, the town clung to the edge of the milky blue glacial lake which provided it's name.

Tourist brochures were full of words like 'breathtaking', 'magnificent', and 'natural splendour'. They spoke of the outdoor sports opportunities, great food and warm welcome that awaited the thousands of visitors to White Lake.

What the brochures conveniently omitted to mention was that along with it's sporting opportunities, great food and warm welcome, the town also currently boasted twelve missing persons, a lot of powerless and baffled authorities and a whole population living in fear and dread.

xxxx

On this crisp and cloudless Fall day, the hundreds of visitors to White Lake went about their individual business; walking, picnicking, souvenir shopping and availing themselves of the well documented good food and warm welcome. In the midst of all this benign activity, a group of fishermen and kayakers were engaging in a heated discussion with a ranger because the lake was out of bounds until further notice due to some 'environmental survey'.

No one took any notice of two young guys who sat on a bench huddled over a laptop, one staring intently at the screen, the other's eyes following a pair of shapely butt cheeks which had just jogged by in tight, black lycra.

"It has to be something to do with the lake" muttered Sam, staring at multiple news headlines on the screen, "five fishermen, a picnicking couple, and two kayakers among those who have gone missing," he scratched his head, "but this could be anything, there are dozens of malevolent spirits associated with the water; we're gonna need to … Dean?"

No response was forthcoming.

"Dean!"

"Dude, did you see the ass on that that just went by? " Dean sighed in admiration, "jeez, it was like two rabbits in a bag having a fight."

Sam glared, "Dean, have you heard a word I said?"

"Sure I have", he tore his eyes away from the distant silhouette as it disappeared over the horizon, and reluctantly turned back to Sam "we've got ourselves a whole bunch of missing dudes and a serial killer Loch Ness Monster to hunt."

"Uh, Dean - you would only find the Loch Ness Monster in Loch Ness …"

"Yeah, whatever, bro'", Dean glanced over his shoulder, "an' right now you're only gonna find me in that diner over there. There's a double deluxe bacon cheese burger on the menu with my name on it".

He got up and strode away, punching Sam on the shoulder to follow him.

xxxx

The following evening, the brothers were settled in their room at the Mountainside Motel. Dean sat on Sam's bed, tossing peanuts into his open mouth. The stray nuts scattered all over the pillows spoke of his limited success.

"I know what we're dealing with!" Sam looked up from his laptop.

That morning had seen the brothers, posing as Agents Ulrich and Hammett, paying a productive visit to the local Sherriff's office; he had imparted the as yet unreleased news that two unidentified bodies, or at least what was left of those bodies, had been found floating in the lake.

Eaten, he had said; the bodies had been eaten; that's why they didn't want to release the news until they knew more, didn't want a panic. They could only theorise what happened to the other missing people … but the best guess was that whatever snacked on these two finished the job with the other ten.

Local naturalists were baffled, the number of disappearances and the damage weren't consistent with bear or cougar attacks and they knew there was nothing living in fresh water big enough to do that sort of damage; the eviscerated corpses were a theoretical impossibility. The authorities were spinning a yarn that the water was out of bounds due to environmental surveys until further notice. Until someone figured out what the heck was going on.

"It's a Kelpie" Sam announced confidently.

Dean looked up from his beer bottle, "a what?"

"A Kelpie" Sam repeated, "a faerie water horse".

"A flesh eating, psycho faerie water horse?" Dean queried, "Dude, just when I thought our lives couldn't get any weirder!"

Sam took a mouthful of pizza, "they were just ordinary horses once that strayed into the faerie world. When they return to this world they appear in the water as beautiful creatures that mesmerise anyone who sees them". He took a swig of beer, "if you fall under their spell, basically, you're screwed!"

Dean looked at him, an expression of saucy glee on his face, "by a horse?"

Sam snorted, "can we keep our minds out of the gutter?"

Dean sniggered at his own joke as Sam continued; "if you fall under it's spell, it drags you down under the water and eats you - with the exception of your liver". Sam paused to let the words sink in.

"The bodies", Dean gasped, "all their internal organs were missing, except …"

"… their livers." Sam completed the sentence.

Dean shook his head, "friggin' faeries" he grunted, "vindictive little bastards; why can't they just leave people alone!"

Sam shrugged, "The lore says that this used to be their world before we turned up, I suppose they're just pissed that we came along and spoiled it for them!"

"Times move on," snapped Dean, "hasn't anyone ever told them that?"

"Has anyone ever told your music collection that?"

"Shaddap!"

xxxx

The brothers ate the remainder of their pizza in silence; Dean eventually spoke up, "So, how do we send this nag to the glue factory then?"

"There's tons of lore", Sam replied, "some speculate that you can kill it with the power of a name, but the most common theory is that if it can be harnessed by a mortal man, it will lose it's faerie powers and transform back into a harmless ordinary horse."

Dean stared at his brother. "Have you ever harnessed a horse - supernatural or otherwise?

"Nope!" smiled Sam.

"Great", Dean sighed, "better take plenty of sugar lumps with us!"

xxxx

Chapter 2

The door to 'Harpers Saddlery' opened with a creak and a tinkle and the brothers were immediately hit by the overwhelming aroma, beloved of all equestrians, of new leather and saddle soap.

A wiry, weatherbeaten man; Harper, they presumed; greeted them economically.

"What can I do for you boys?"

Sam spoke up, "Er, we'd like to buy a bridle." He tailed off, his entire repertoire of equestrian technical terms exhausted.

"What sort?" asked Harper, gesturing to an entire wall hung with countless leather strappings and metal buckles; the sort of arrangement which in other environments would make Dean's eyes light up.

"One for a horse," said Dean in complete seriousness.

Harper gazed levelly at them. The look on his face said, "I've got a right pair here!"

"What kinda bit d'ya need?"

Dean stared at him, "all of it, of course!"

Harper sighed.

"I mean, what ya using it for? Racin', showin', schoolin'?"

Sam made an attempt to rescue the situation. "We're not ridin' the horse, we just want to lead him around. Nothing ambitious."

"Then you boys don't want a bridle, you want a halter."

"Uh, okay," came the stereo response.

xxxxx

A further two days of research had Sam bombarding Dean with a mind-boggling array of facts about the most likely location for their target; these things are shy and solitary, they are only active at dawn and twilight, they are attracted by certain plants, they are repelled by others, they can't stray too far from the water …

Sam eventually slammed the laptop shut and turned to Dean, "Right, we're looking for a secluded area away from the tourist trail, there'll probably be some kind of cave, it'll probably be surrounded by ferns, there might be an oak tree nearby, and it'll be very close to the edge of the lake".

Dean stared at him. "Not a lot to go on Sherlock …" he grunted.

xxxxx

"Dude", groaned Dean, "we've been traipsing round this lake for friggin' hours!" He sighed dramatically, "we must have done at least two circuits."

Sam pointedly ignored him and forged on ahead, clambering over rocks and spongy pads of moss, pushing low hanging branches out of his face.

"An' it's hours since I had a decent drink …"

Sam held the water bottle back for his brother to take. Dean caught up and took it without thanks, taking a long swig; he grimaced.

"Ah jeez … I said a DECENT drink!"

Sighing again, Dean resumed his unenthusiastic trudge.

A moment later, he barrelled straight into Sam's rock solid back. "Hey, man!" he snorted, "wanna let me know when you're planning on stoppin' and blockin' the path?"

Silence.

"Dude?" He glanced over Sam's motionless shoulder … and froze.

There in front of them was a small clearing inamongst the countless fir trees, it's floor carpeted with ferns. It looked out over the lake and was bordered on it's south side by a rocky outcrop which was fractured by a narrow grotto. The rocky outcrop was crowned by an oak sapling - possibly the only deciduous tree in sight.

The brothers stared until Dean broke the silence.

"Holy crap!"

xxxxx

The Winchesters settled down on the shore of the lake close to the clearing, "well it's about twilight" muttered Dean, rummaging in his pocket for a half-eaten chocolate bar; "if Mr Ed's going to show his face, he's better friggin' do it now!"

"If he doesn't, we'll have to stay here until dawn." replied Sam, unfolding the halter in readiness.

Dean scowled, "another reason why I'm going to kick his friggin' flea-bitten ass when I see him!"

xxxxx

Two hours later …

Dean breathed a puff of vapour into the cold night air. "It's freakin' freezing'!" he said, pulling his jacket tighter around him and shivering slightly. "I can't feel my ass any more - isn't there something softer than this damned log to sit on?"

"Dude," Sam turned to Dean, "will you give it a rest? You've done nothing but moan and complain this whole job!"

"Well," snorted Dean, "I don't do freakin' nature!" he cupped his hands and breathed into them, "it's cold, and uncomfortable, and dirty, and some crappy thing is always tryin' to bite you or sting you or ooze mucus on you."

Sam grinned, rolling his eyes; "jerk" he muttered, receiving a poke in the ear for his trouble.

xxxxx

Four hours later …

"Dude, that doesn't look anything like a flying horse!"

The Winchesters were passing the time gazing up at the night sky; Sam trying to point out constellations to his brother.  Pegasus seemed to be eluding the elder Winchester

"If you turn and look at it from this angle," Sam craned his head grotesquely as if he was limbo dancing, "you can see it, look … there's it's neck and head and two front legs, see?"

Dean squinted, but didn't look convinced.

"Man, I'd love to know what the dude who decided that looked like a flying horse was trippin' on!"

xxxxx

Eight hours later …

Dean opened bleary eyes after a fitful nap to see the Sun appearing over the mountain peaks, bathing the whole lake in an ethereal dawn light; a light mist hugged the lake's shores, drifting lazily around the edge of the mirror-smooth water, coating everything it touched in a crystalline layer of sparkling dew.

Dean took in the sight and decided that maybe nature wasn't so bad after all.

He stretched out stiff cold joints, flinching as his protesting shoulders cracked and popped, and walked slowly down to the lake's edge.

The mist swirled around his ankles, muffling the crunch of his boots on the damp shale.

It was then that he saw it.

It stood in the water a short distance away from him, gazing at him with soft liquid eyes. It's coat of gunmetal grey had a satin sheen which glistened and shimmered with the Sun's light.

It's mane and forelock, as pale as ivory, ran continuously with water which trickled softly over it's dappled neck and chest, pattering into the water around it's strong, slender legs.

The two held each other's gaze; long, pale lashes swept over deep brown eyes; long dark lashes swept over deep green eyes.

It gave a soft huff and bowed it's head, pawing at the bed of the lake, the muscles of it's withers and back twitching and fluttering as it moved.

Dean stared. Rendered utterly insensible, his world shrank to this moment. There was no Sam, no Dad, no Impala; just him and this magical being in front of him.

The horse gave a soft snort and bowed it's head again, maintaining it's hypnotic gaze.

It was in that moment that Dean knew with sadness that even if he lived forever, he would never see such captivating beauty again.

Xxxxx

Chapter 3

 

Sam drifted awake from what had possibly been the most uncomfortable night's sleep he had ever endured; opening his eyes, he abruptly closed them again against the vivid glare of the low dawn Sun.

Stretching stiffly, every bone in his body felt like it had been through a mincer. He rolled over expecting to see his brother's spiky crown on the other side of the log where he had dozed off, instead he saw Dean's discarded overshirt – a makeshift pillow - but no Dean.

Blinking back tears as his eyes acclimatised to the glare, he made out a dark shape. As the shape drifted into focus, he saw it was his brother, standing facing the lake. He rubbed his eyes and blinked again.

Then, he saw the other figure in the water; his heart stood still.

"DEAN" he shouted, "DEAN!" again, louder - this time more like a scream.

xxxxx

Dean stood helpless, drinking in the Kelpie's beauty like a fine wine.

He heard a voice behind him; a voice that came from somewhere else; somewhere that didn't include this exquisite being; somewhere that didn't matter.

The voice was calling his name. His name didn't matter; the voice didn't matter; the only thing that mattered was being close to the goodness and purity which ebbed and flowed from this magical creature like the milky water of the lake.

He took a step forward.

xxxxx

Sam scrambled to his feet, ignoring the stiffness of his cold bones. He felt in his shirt pocket for a tiny leather pouch; stuffed with pepper, primrose petals and mustard seeds – according to Bobby, all generally held to be repellent to the fae; he knew he was protected against the Kelpie's influence.

A terrible thought struck him, and drove a cold spike of fear down his spine. He picked up Dean's discarded overshirt, feeling the pockets, and felt another pouch in the pocket.

Dean was facing the Kelpie with no protection.

Frantically tipping the contents of his bag out over the ground, Sam grabbed a wrought iron bar Bobby had advised him to bring. Bobby had explained that iron, being a pure product of the Earth, was harmless, even beneficial to the fae; wrought iron, however, tempered and bastardised by mankind, was repellent to them.

Grasping his only weapon, Sam sprinted toward the lake.

xxxxx

Dean was oblivious to the frigid water lapping around his shins as he waded further into the lake toward the Kelpie. It stood, aloof and serene awaiting him, pawing elegantly at the water, it's soft brown eyes inviting him to approach.

By the time he reached it, he was almost waist deep in the icy water.

He leaned into the creature, breathing in it's rich essence of pine and meadow grasses.

Pressing a peach-soft muzzle into the crook of his neck, it whittered softly as his hands stroked the contours of it's elegant head. Hot breath tickled his throat, as he closed his eyes and leaned heavily against it's cold satin-smooth hide.

Then it tossed it's head viciously and grasped Dean's arm in it's mouth.

xxxxx

Dashing into the lake, Sam gasped as the bitterly cold water flooded into his boots, he saw the Kelpie rear, and lunge into the lake dragging Dean along with it.

He was chest deep in the water before he saw both figures disappear under the surface. The bitter cold was constricting his lungs; he could barely breathe and yet, it was all he could do not to cry out in pain, but he knew what he had to do.

Taking a deep breath, and ignoring the burning in his lungs, he plunged under the water.

xxxxx

Dean felt the icy water close over his head. His despairing cry was lost in the rushing torrent as the Kelpie dragged him down, his lungs constricting in agony as he struggled furiously against it's grip. The frigid water burned and stabbed like a thousand ice cold knives tearing at his writhing body.

He opened his mouth again and gave a last desperate soundless cry for help, his struggles weakening as lack of oxygen consumed him.

He managed one last coherent thought before succumbing to a final reflexive breath.

"I'm sorry, Sam - I love you …"

He convulsed violently as the freezing water invaded his body; in his confusion, he thought he felt the Kelpie release it's grip, thought he felt himself tumbling as if in a whirlpool and then suddenly there was no pain, no cold …

Just dark silence.

xxxxx

A roar of pain escaped Sam as he dove beneath the icy water.

He had to surface to take a gasping breath to alleviate his body's shock, before he submerged again.

His inordinately long limbs and massive flat feet had not always been an advantage to him, but in water, they came into their own. A collection of swimming medals from his time at Stanford was testament to that, and soon he was powering through the water almost apace with his quarry.

Visibility was poor in the mineral rich water, but Sam kept sight of the dark grey form beneath him, and he realised he had to act now. Adrenalin surged through his body and he surfaced one last time to take a deep breath before diving down as fast as he could using the wrought iron rod as ballast.

He prayed he had calculated this correctly, he only had one shot at this. As the dark shape passed under him, he released the rod. It fell through the water and caught the Kelpie on the haunch.

The Kelpie squealed and disappeared into a thunderous burst of foam.

Ignoring the intolerable pain in his chest, Sam swam down and grasped the limp, motionless body of his brother, tumbling over and kicking hard for the surface.

The two heads broke the surface seconds later. Sam yawned a massive, wheezing breath as his battered lungs fought to take in air.

He swam until he could feel the lake bed beneath his feet, then dragged Dean bodily out of the lake and onto the bank.

He knelt over the prone body, "C'mon dude" he gasped, feeling Dean's neck for a pulse and pressing his hand against his brother's chest, he could feel no evidence Dean was breathing.

"Please, Oh God, please – BREATHE" he sobbed, pumping hard on his brother's chest, watching as water bubbled and trickled down his brother's chin from over still, blue lips.

He gently tipped Dean's head back, wiping the soaked hair away from his forehead, blanching at the waxy, expressionless face. He cupped Dean's face between his hands. "please …" he whispered, "please …"

He thumped Dean's chest again, another trickle of water escaped from his open mouth.

Leaning, over, he pinched Dean's nose and began to breathe for him, watching his brother's chest expand as the air filled his lungs.

"Don't do this to me …" he muttered incoherently, "no, no … don't do this …", he pumped frantically, until suddenly there was a ragged wet gasp, and Dean's eyes flicked open. He coughed violently and spluttered, as Sam grabbed him under the arms and pulled him up to lean against his own body.

"Hey, dude" sobbed Sam, his chin resting on his brother's soaking hair, "welcome back". He rubbed his brother's heaving chest.

"S-Sam …" croaked Dean, between choking gasps.

"Ssshhh – don't talk!" Sam soothed, "just try to relax and breathe."

It was then Sam noticed that Dean had lost his jacket in the water, and was clad only in a soaking T shirt. It was easy to miss his violent shaking between the racking coughs and gasps.

Sam grabbed Dean's discarded overshirt and tossed it over him.

Sam also realised that Dean wasn't the only one shaking with cold; he himself was also soaked and freezing.

He had to get them both back somewhere warm and dry …

… and he had to do it now.

xxxxx

Chapter 4

Sam hugged his shivering brother and weighed up his options; they were in the middle of nowhere, soaked and freezing. Even an ambulance wouldn't be able to get to them here, the Impala was parked - Sam's best guess - about five miles away; Dean had almost drowned - heck, he had drowned, and he wasn't walking anywhere anytime soon.

He leaned down to look at his brother, wiping Dean's pallid forehead to keep water from dripping in his eyes. Dean was clutching his chest, gasping for precious breath and muttering incoherently against Sam's shoulder; okay, thought Sam, you could add delirious to hypothermic and drowned. Just damned great!

That was before he thought about his own condition; his teeth were chattering so hard, he was afraid the tip of his tongue might disappear, and although he was better off than Dean, that would all change if he didn't get some warmth into his bones soon.

Sam knew he had only one option; he picked up his phone and dialled Bobby's number...

xxxxx

Sam hoisted Dean's limp weight into his arms and staggered across to the grotto in the rocky outcrop at the side of the clearing. There was enough room in there for the two of them and a small fire. The fissure which formed the grotto was high and Sam hoped it penetrated through the rocks somewhere to create a chimney.

He decanted Dean inside the small cavern, leaning him against the wall; "hey dude, I'm g-gonna make a fire for us" he continued, "I phoned B-Bobby and he's on his w-way, be with us in a few hours".

Dean grunted as a violent shiver racked his chilled body, "h-horse" he whispered.

"I g-gave it a shock an' sent it's ass 'way for a while!" reassured Sam, shivering so hard he could barely string two coherent words together. He began gathering deadfall as fast as his numb hands could manage. He knew that the kelpie would be back, and he hoped that it wouldn't be before Bobby got to them, but that if necessary the contents of the pouches that Bobby had made up for them would be enough to protect them while they waited.

Sam swore as his hands shook so violently as he tried to light the fire, he dropped the Zippo twice. Eventually the fire caught and he nurtured it until he was confident it wouldn't go out. He pulled off his soaked shirt and jeans with a struggle as they stretched and clung to his cold, wet body and knelt down before Dean. "c'mon dude, lets g-get these wet things off"

He worked Dean out of his soaked clothes stopping to examine the heavily bruised graze on his arm where the Kelpie had held him, then slid in behind him, pulling him in close, icy cold skin pressing against icy cold skin, hearts beating in unison. He rubbed shaking hands up and down Dean's arms, chest and stomach, as if trying to massage the heat from the little fire back into their frozen bodies.

They were both shivering violently; that was a good sign Sam told himself. What wasn't so good was Dean's uncharacteristic silence; no doubt a side effect of the hypothermia, but still Sam felt uneasy. His Dean radar had been beeping ever since he had stumbled into the grotto with his incoherent brother. He had seen Dean hypothermic before and something about this whole affair made him feel uncomfortable. Sam never thought he would hear himself wishing that Dean would come out with one of his smartass comments, but right now, he would give anything to be called a bitch again.

"H-h-horse" …

"He's gone" Sam whispered, stroking wet hair, "he's gone." he hugged Dean tightly and reached over, placing their water bottle near the fire to provide them with a warm drink, and pulling Dean's overshirt and his own jacket, the only dry items of clothing he could find, across them like a small blanket.

Dean coughed and squirmed back against Sam's chest.

xxxxx

Sam's eyes snapped open when he heard the rustle of undergrowth.

He had lost track of time and had no idea how long they had been in their little bolt-hole. Dean was asleep, moaning and whispering miserably, slumped heavily against Sam's shoulder and the fire was little more than smoking embers.

Sam's heart pounded as he leaned sideways to look out across the clearing. Expecting to see a sinister faerie horse, he almost sobbed in relief when he saw the grizzled figure of Bobby striding towards them.

Bobby knelt down before the brothers, and looked at Sam with a concerned smile;

"So what friggin' mess have ya pair of idjits got yourselves into this time?"

Not waiting for an answer, he placed a hand on Dean's shoulder and sucked in a sharp breath.

"Crap - too cold!" he snorted.

"Dean g-got into trouble in the lake and almost drowned - I h-had to go in after him" Sam whispered, drowsily.

Dean stirred at the sound of Sam's voice, "hmmmm ... h-horse?" he murmured.

Bobby unfolded a blanket he had under his arm and wrapped it tightly round the brothers, then produced a flask from his rucksack and poured steaming brown liquid into the cup. He lifted the cup to Sam's lips, and watched with a smile as Sam drunk the coffee greedily.

He refilled the cup, and rubbed Dean's forehead watching the heavy green eyes open slowly. "C'mon princess, ya need a drink!"

"horse ... ?" croaked Dean

"Nah, just me!" muttered Bobby

Dean drank clumsily as Bobby supported his head.

"Right, boys", Bobby stood up with a grunt, "as I'm an employee of the forestry authorities today", he gave them a knowing wink, "my truck is parked up a maintenance track about two hundred yards over in that direction". He gestured towards the west.

He looked at Sam, "can you walk, boy?"

"I think so," Sam responded, "I'm not sure about Dean though".

"If ya can walk, I reckon together, we can manage to carry him to the truck"

xxxxx

Bobby's truck pulled up outside the Mountainside Motel, he climbed out and let himself into their room, cranking the heating up to max before returning to the truck and helping the shivering Winchesters one by one out of the cab and into the room.

"Right", he stood in front of the huddled figures, "you two - warm shower, hot soup then bed".

Sam nodded, and turned to Dean. Dean was staring into his lap, barely acknowledging the existence of Sam and Bobby; a look of utter emptiness in his eyes. Bobby and Sam exchanged glances.

Bobby heated soup as the brothers took a warm shower, and presented them with the steaming bowls as they emerged from the bathroom. Sam took the bowl and, sitting on the edge of the bed, began to eat as if he didn't know where his next meal was coming from.

Dean sat next to his brother and stared unenthusiastically at the bowl offered by Bobby.

"Not hungry" he whispered.

Bobby planted the bowl into Dean's hands, "I don't care, boy; ya gotta eat to warm yourself up, so get it down ya unless you want me to pinch ya nose an' force it down ya neck!"

Dean took the spoon and took a few tentative sips of the soup. His face registered neither approval or dislike, just blankness.

Sam watched his brother eat, a heavy knot of apprehension tightening in his chest.

Bobby cleared the bowls away and pulled back the covers gesturing for both brothers to climb into the bed they were sitting on. "You two are sharing a bed tonight - get some body heat transferring between you.

The brothers obediently climbed into the bed, allowing Bobby to tuck the covers over them. "wanna story?" he grinned.

Sam smiled back, "bite me!"

He shuffled up so that Dean's back was pressed tightly against his chest. Snaking an arm over his brother's side, he pulled him in tighter, relishing the smell of his newly washed hair and the heavy beat of his heart.

His heart sank when there was no reciprocation from Dean who simply lay, seemingly oblivious to Sam's presence, whispering absently to himself.

Sam relished the warmth seeping back into his bones; he listened to Bobby's snores from the other bed, and watched the mesmerising rise and fall of his brother's chest. The softness of the pillow and the heavy drag of sleep on his eyes should have had him drifting off in complete contentment. Instead, that knot of apprehension was still there, tightening and tightening all the time, and Sam didn't know why.

xxxxx

Sam was woken the following morning by the smell of coffee. He climbed out of the bed and joined Bobby at the table.

The two men sat in silence, glancing occasionally to the softly snoring lump in that remained in the brothers' bed. Eventually Bobby broke the silence.

He leaned towards Sam, and spoke barely above a whisper so as not to wake Dean. "Ya wanna tell me what happened at the lake yesterday?"

Sam put his coffee cup down and nodded.

xxxxx

Bobby's eyes widened in horror as Sam explained how Dean had fallen under the Kelpie's spell, and how he had almost drowned. He told Bobby about the wrought iron rod repelling the Kelpie enabling Sam to drag Dean away.

Sam stopped to take a sip of coffee.

Bobby stared at Sam. "Have you noticed how he hasn't seemed quite 'right' since then?" he asked.

Sam put his coffee cup down. "What're you sayin' Bobby?"

Bobby sighed, "Have you heard the stories about people strayin' into the faerie world, an' tastin' faerie food or wine, then wastin' away because they never want to eat anything' else?"

Sam shrugged, "vaguely," he muttered, "to be honest, we don't get involved with faeries much; don' know that much about them?"

Bobby's expression was verging on panic, "Bobby, what are you saying?"

"Sam," Bobby grasped Sam's wrist, "Your brother is still under that thing's spell".

Sam stared at Bobby.

"As long as that scaly sonofabitch is alive he's gonna pine for it; waste away with longing".

Sam's blood ran cold.

"Sam, that thing will kill him as surely as if it had drowned him yesterday. He'll just fade away and die of a broken heart."

xxxxx

tbc

 

 

Comments

Stalking Horse

[taylorariel.livejournal.com]

This story seems so familiar to me. Was it posted somewhere else before?

Re: Stalking Horse

[dizzojay.livejournal.com]

Hi there
Yes, it's posted over at Fanfiction.net under my penname Dizzo.

I'm gradually bringing my fics over here too.