Scars – (12/?)

[stillrose]

Title: Scars – (12/?)
Fandom: Supernatural
Warnings: Slash, wincest, language, angst, and Winchester Whompin, NON-CON
Rating: NC17
Summary: Sam and Dean deal with the aftermath of actions in Burn while trying to stop the “Greenbrier Witch” from preying on any more of the heart-broken. Setting is early first Season.

Disclaimer: I don't own Sam and Dean; just borrowing them. All I own is what my cats don't want. Unbeated.

Didn't want the SPN folks to think this would be WIP forever. My Spander fans...don't worry...I'll be working on DI next. Hopefully I'll be able to get back to a more regular writing schedule soon.

As always: Feedback makes my heart go pitter-patter.

Sequel to: Burn (found here) Previous parts of Scars (found here)

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Dean glared at Eddie and she twisted his nipples again. Dean tried to pant through the pain. Eddie ground herself against Dean.

“Oh the things I’m gonna do to ya my Dean darlin’,” Eddie leaned in and whispered in Dean’s ear as she continued to grind against Dean trying to stir him to life. “And you are going ta luv ‘em all”

The sound of a car overhead suddenly caught Dean’s attention and distracted him from his pain and disgust. It must have distracted Eddie as well because she paused. She looked up.

“Earl!” Eddie hissed. “Go up top and find out who’s out there. If it’s Sam, bring him here. Anyone else, get rid of ‘em!”

Sam! Dean thought and suddenly he wasn’t so sure he wanted Sam to save him. He didn’t want him anywhere near Eddie.

*****************************

Sam moved carefully around the sheriff’s car. There had to be a clue, some sign, of where he and Dean went.  Sam frowned and knelt down by the back of the car.  There was an odd broken pattern in the sod. It didn’t take Sam long to figure out what the pattern meant. Then Winchester’s had been too well trained by their father not to recognize the signs of a body that had been dragged.

Dean! Sam thought frantically. He turned and went to stand when he heard the unmistakable sound of a gun being cocked.

“Looks like I’m going to make my Eddie real happy ta’night,” Earl said.

“Sher…” Sam began.

“Drop the gun!” Earl ordered. “Eddie said ta bring ya alive. She didn’t say nothin’ about being winged.”

Sam swallowed and dropped his rifle.

“Now stand up real slow and easy like.”

“Sheriff,” Sam tried again as he slowly stood up.  “Listen to me; you don’t want to do this. You’re under a spell.”

“And what a spell,” Earl replied. “Put your hands above your head and turn around. SLOOOOWLY!”

“You know you’re bewitched?” Sam asked as he cautiously turned around and faced the sheriff.

“I know Eddie’s purt near the prettiest gal I ever did see and there ain’t nothin’ I wouldn’t do fer her,” Earl said with a smile than he shrugged. “I guess ya could call that a spell.”

Sam tried to hide the groan of frustration and fear he felt.

“No, sheriff I mean you are literally under a spell! Eddie, she’s a witch!”

The smile fell away from Earl’s face and he growled, “If Eddie didn’t want you alive boy I’d shoot ya where ya stand for sayin’ that!  Don’t talk bad about Eddie or I’ll shut yer mouth the same way I shut your brother’s!”

“Dean!” Sam cried and took a step forward.  “What did you do to Dean!”

“I WILL SHOOT!” Earl hollered. Sam froze.

“Now don’t you be worrying about your brother. Eddie’s taken a real shine to him,” Earl said. Sam paled and his blood felt like ice. “Seems she still has a soft spot for you too. Wants me ta bring you to her.”

“Well doesn’t that work out nicely for us then,” Granny’s voice rang out. Sam and Earl turned their heads to the left. Granny stepped out from behind some bushes. She cocked her gun. It was pointed at Earl’s chest. “Earl, I wouldn’t move if I were you. You know I never did miss a huntin’ season when Mr. Mitchum was still alive. I think I can still bring down a big buck if I need to.”

“Granny…” Earl began.

“Drop it,” Granny said.

The battle for self preservation and the compulsion to obey Eddie played out clearly on Earl’s face.  There was a slight tremor in his gun hand.

“I won’t ask again, Earl,” Granny warned.

Earl growled and spun around. Before either he or Granny could fire Sam charged and knocked him to his feet.  They rolled, grunted and struggled for control of the gun.  Granny moved more spryly than a woman her age ought.  She raised her rifle and shouted, “SAM!”

Sam rolled dragging the sheriff on top of him. Earl snarled and then suddenly grunted in pain. His eyes widened then rolled up inside his head. He collapsed in an unconscious heap on Sam.

“Help,” Sam muttered weakly as he struggled to get out from underneath the inert sheriff. Granny pulled back the butt of her rifle she’d used to cold cock Earl and held out her hand to Sam.

“Just couldn’t bring myself to shoot him,” Granny said. “He’s a good man under the influence of a bad woman.”

“A woman who’s still got Dean,” Sam said as he got to his feet.

Granny nodded and said, “You go find yer brother and Eddie. I’ll watch Earl here.”

“Granny…,” Sam started to object.

“Sam, we don’t have time ta argue about this. Go!”

Sam nodded. He picked up his rifle and Earl’s gun and tucked into his pants at the small of his back.

“Don’t hesitate to shoot, Granny,” Sam warned before concentrating on finding the drag marks again.  He missed seeing Granny’s grim smile.

Sam walked around in tight circle looking to pick up Dean’s trail. His brief fight with the sheriff had obliterated the signs he’d first found.  Sam wasn’t giving up though. He knew it was just a matter of time before he found the drag marks again. However, time was never his ally on a hunt and now each second of delay left Dean more vulnerable and in more danger.

Sam’s heart nearly beat out of his chest when he finally spot the tell tale signs of the drag marks. Dean! He thought. He clutched his rifle tighter and began to quickly and as silently as he could follow the trail.

***

It didn’t take Sam long to find the door to the root cellar. Cautiously he lifted the old wooden door and eased his way down the creaking stairs. His rifle was pumped and ready.

“Sam? That you creepin’ down my back stairs?” Eddie called out. “Earl don’t have no reason to creep or sneak about.”

Sam reached the bottom of the stairs and swung around. He moved to his left and once again his blood turned to ice. Eddie was draped around the back of Dean with a knife to his throat. Behind Dean was a wall full of applehead dolls. Eddie smiled and leaned close to Dean’s left ear and she whispered into it.

“Oh look my pretty Dean, its Sam! I wonder what fun and games I could get you boys ta play fer me?”

Dean shouted something into the duct tape across his mouth. Sam raised his rifle and pointed at Eddie. Eddie tightened her grip on the knife and Dean’s throat.

“Tsk..tsk, Sam,” she said. “You want ta be real careful with that rife there. Not only could ya miss and hit me you get Dean cut.”

“Let him go,” Sam growled.

“Let him go? Why? I’ve been have all sorts of fun playin’ with him! Can’t wait to tell ya all about it and the plans I have for ‘im.”

“You let him go now,” Sam warned, “and you might walk away from this.”

“Counter off, Sam,” Eddie replied. “You put the gun down now and maybe I’ll make you part of my pretty Dean plans.”

Dean yelled into his gag again and shot Sam a look that was easy to read, No fuckin’ way, bro! Take the bitch out!

“Not going to happen, Eddie,” Sam said.

“And you think you think you can stop me Sammy?” Eddie replied. “Do you really know what you are dealing with?”

“A,” Sam said, “I know exactly what I’m dealing with and B? Only Dean gets to call me ‘Sammy.’”

With that said Sam quickly lifted his rifle and began shooting the applehead dolls behind Dean. Eddie screamed. Swirls of diaphanous white energy leapt from the shattered dolls and began floating towards the ceiling. The dolls were the bitch’s batteries and he meant to drain her fast: drain her before she could hurt Dean.

The energy began seeping up through the cracks. Sam bit his bottom lip, kept pumping the rifle and kept firing. Over and over he fired. The ceiling was white with the release of souls fleeing their prison. When the wall behind Dean was mass of splintered wood, shredded fabric and shards of dried fruit he quickly reloaded and started firing on the wall to his left. Eddie kept screaming “NO!” Sam ignored her screams and didn’t dare look at Dean. He was afraid of what he might see.

Eddie’s screams had turned to a terrifying mix of whimpers and screeches by the time Sam dropped the rifle and began to use the sheriff’s gun to fire on the right wall. More souls escaped. When the wall was a mess equal to the first two walls and he was completely out of ammo Sam finally lowered his gun. He looked at Dean.

Dean was looking back at him. There wasn’t so much a scratch on Dean’s neck. Eddie was rolling and screaming on the floor by Dean.  Sam tucked the handgun away and moved quickly to Dean.  He pulled a knife out of his boot and began cutting at the tape on Dean’s legs and then on his arms. Dean jumped out of the chair as soon as he was free and went to tear the tape off his mouth.

“Whoa! Dean! NO!” Sam cried. “That could do some real harm to the patent Dean smile.”

Dean growled. He looked at Eddie. She was still screaming in agony. She seemed to be shrinking slightly as if her body were collapsing in on itself or as if she were shriveling.  The bright red color was fading from her hair and it was becoming a lackluster grey.  Sam watched in horrified fascination.  Dean looked away. He looked over at the table and spotted the “Dean doll.”

Dean grabbed Eddie’s latest creation. He threw it on the floor by her head and smashed it with the heel of his boot. Sam barely had time to register the fact the doll looked like Dean before it was so much debris. Eddie arched her back and screamed. Her mouth opened so wide in agony Sam could clearly see how her gums were receding and her teeth were yellowing.

Sounds of feet quickly storming down the stairs caught Sam and Dean’s attention. They turned ready to fight. Sam had his knife at the ready and Dean grabbed the rifle from up off the floor.

“Don’t shoot!” Granny yelled as she held her hands above her head.

“Granny?” Sam said then frowned as he saw the sheriff right behind her.

Dean growled and aimed the rifle at Earl.

“Dean!” Granny barked. Earl flushed then looked green. He kept his eyes on the floor.

“Granny, I told you to shoot if you had to!” Sam said.

“I didn’t have ta, Sam,” Granny said. “Earl ain’t under her spell no more.”

“How do you know?”

“I know,” Granny said as she moved further into the cellar. She looked around the room. Dean kept the rifle trained on the sheriff. Earl didn’t know it was out of ammo.

Eddie’s screams had faded away to hoarse whimpers. Sam looked down at her and felt nauseous. She was a gnarled old woman older than Granny. She wasn’t much more than sagging skin and bones. Her scalp had patches of long thin stringy white hair. Her hands were a mass of knotted arthritic joints and brittle nails.

The sound of retching shifted Sam’s attention. Earl was losing his lunching in the corner. Sam looked at Granny.

“Guess you were right.”

“I’m always right, boy,” Granny grinned then yelled, “DEAN! NO!”

Dean had raised the butt of the rifle to smash Eddie’s skull as easily as he had smashed the “Dean” applehead doll under his boot.  Dean grunted into the tape while Sam rushed forward to try and wrestle the gun from Dean.

“She’s human! Ya can’t kill her!” Granny said.

“Granny’s right,” Sam said as he managed to twist the rifle away from Dean.

“She ain’t human,” Earl spat still avoiding eye contact with Dean, “and if Dean Winchester was ta kill her I wouldn’t be bringin’ any murder charges up against him.”

See, there! Dean’s look said to Sam.

“We are not doing this, Dean,” Sam said.

“Look,” Granny interjected, “There’s a state funded nursin’ home only a few miles from here. They always have a bed open. Why don’t we take what’s left of Eddie and leave her there. Believe me, it’s not a fate I’d wish on my worst enemy.”

“Dean…dude,” Sam pleaded with his brother. Dean looked at the mewling mess that what was left of Eddie he then looked at the sheriff. Earl finally looked at Dean.  They shared a look only they could understand then Dean nodded.

“Sam,” Granny said. “Why don’t you take Dean back ta the house. Earl and I’ll take care of Eddie.”

“C’mon Dean,” Sam said as he grabbed Dean’s arm. Dean jerked away before he could stop himself. He flushed and sent an apologetic look to Sam. Then he all but fled up the stairs.

Sam frowned. Something was wrong with Dean. He then looked back at Granny and the sheriff.

“You sure you’re going to be OK?”

“Go!” Granny ordered.

Sam put his knife away and then hurried up the stairs after his brother. Dean was already using the mineral oil stashed in the back of the Impala to work the duct tape on his mouth loose.

“Dean?” Sam asked. “You OK?”

“Fine, Sammy,” Dean grunted as he finely peeled the rest of the tape off his mouth. He used more mineral oil soaked on a spare rag to get rid of the adhesive gum off his lips. His movements were hard and jerky.

“We couldn’t kill her, Dean,” Sam said.

“Don’t really want to talk about it, Sam,” Dean said as he threw the rag into the back of the Impala before slamming the trunk lid closed. He marched to the driver side and jerked open door. The Impala creaked her glad welcome at him. “Keys?”

Sam sighed and dug into his pocket. He fished out the keys and tossed them at Dean as he moved toward the passenger side of the Impala.  Dean easily caught them as Sam opened his door. The brothers slid inside the Impala at the same time in a synchronized movement. The car doors slammed shut in unison. The Impala roared to life under Dean’s easy twist of a key.

“Dean…” Sam tried again.

Dean looked at Sam. It wasn’t an unfamiliar look to Sam. Dean’s defensive walls were up.  Whatever was going on with him, he wasn’t going to talk about it. Dean turned away from Sam, threw the Impala in reverse and hit the play button on the cassette player. Motley Crue’s cover of “Helter Skelter” blasted through the car's speakers.

The Impala sped off toward Granny’s house in a cloud of dirt, exhaust and classic Winchester angst.

TBC…