Title: Sam, Dean, Planes and Clowns, Oh My!
penguita38 - August 11, 2008 10:50 PM (GMT)
So my lovely
Yoda Grkgrl wrote out all the rules and suggestion--basically everything on the fanfic challenge opening--that it only felt fitting that I use hers and replace it with this week’s challenge. Have fun!
This challenge was a suggestion by adder574 that was made in the Suggestions thread.
Write a short story about one of these two subjects:
- An experience in Sam’s life that made him frightened of clowns.
- An experience in Dean’s life that caused his terror of flying.
Stories should (at most) be the equivalent of about 10 pages in Word, single-spaced. Less is fine.
Please post your finished story in this thread.
- Must be PG-13 or lower and comply with all board rules
- One entry per person
- Must be new writing—can’t repost old stuff
- Must be your own work. Plagiarism in any challenge will not be tolerated. (Even though I so stole Grkgrl’s rules ;) )
- Please proofread your work so it's easier for people to read. If you'd like someone to proofread it, I've set up a thread to request beta readers for challenges in this forum.
*** At the beginning of your entry, please include the title of your fic followed by “by” <<your username>>. (For example: Fright Cycle by grkgrl88) This will make it easier to copy and paste the entries into the voting thread. If you don’t want to include a title, then please still include your username at the beginning of your entry. Thank you.
If you have any questions, please feel free to send me a PM.
Deadline: Monday, August 25th
Saiyuki - August 11, 2008 11:04 PM (GMT)
I can't wait to get started on this...hopefully it'll give me the inspiration to finish Chapter 5 of my new fic :lol:
Shannon - August 11, 2008 11:09 PM (GMT)
I'm excited to do this. *ponders on a plot.*
mummyluvr - August 11, 2008 11:10 PM (GMT)
Hmmm... sounds like fun. I can weave it into a story I've been wanting to tell for a long while. Can't wait to get started!
QueenBee - August 12, 2008 01:01 AM (GMT)
Oooh! I'm super excited! Now, I've just got to get to work. :D
mummyluvr - August 12, 2008 02:20 AM (GMT)
All right. Here's mine. It's a whopping 9 pages in word! Also, the flight stuff is kinda subtle. If it doesn't fit the challenge, just tell me and I can change it :) Title is from "Shine" by Collective Soul.
Lay Me On The Ground, Fly Me In The Sky
He was twenty-two, for crying out loud. Twenty-two and crying like a baby. He had known it was a bad idea, had known that he shouldn’t have turned on the television, flipped channels until he found the news. He just couldn’t help himself, though. He had to know.
It was becoming his obsession. He needed to know, everyday, what was going on in the world. He needed to know that Sammy was ok.
Sighing, Dean flipped off the TV and wiped away his tears. He cringed as his fingers brushed the yellowing bruises that had been left in the wake of the post-college fight. Sam and his father had both walked away that night, one to a bus stop, the other to a bar. The one that had returned hadn’t been too happy. Dean had still been too shocked, too scared, too abandoned to react.
His father wouldn’t even look at him anymore, had left for a hunt without mentioning returning. He was leaving it up in the air, not as decisive as Sam had been. It didn’t matter, though. Nothing mattered now.
Stanford hadn’t been in the news, not for the past week. There had been no fatal bus crashes. Sam hadn’t called, but Dean was sure that he was all right. He was better than Dean, anyway. Had to be. Dean was broken. Dean couldn’t be fixed. Sam at least had a fighting chance.
The hunter swiped a hand under his leaking nose and sighed again, his shoulders slumping under the weight of the silent room. It was too much, too much all at once. He’d lost his mother, his brother, his father, and now the only other person that had ever pretended to care about him.
He stared at the blank television screen, stared at it as if he could will it to take back the news, take back the tragedy, the death, the crushing of his hopes and dashing of his dreams.
He had wanted to go back to her, to beg her forgiveness for whatever it had been that he had done to make her mad, to settle once more into the embrace that he craved. He wanted those cookies of hers, the prize-winners, the ones she’d baked just for him. He wanted sympathy. He wanted to talk to someone who wouldn’t laugh, wouldn’t tell him to shut up, wouldn’t greet his confessions with silence.
He wanted Cynthia. Cindy, to her friends.
He wanted just a little more love before the entire world crashed down around him like that plane had around her.
Dean scanned the street, still not trusting the new neighborhood after only a week. He probably looked ridiculous, a thirteen-year-old boy sitting on the front stoop of their rental home, staring out at the road, assessing it for threats as Sammy pedaled his bike in circles around the small driveway, barely content with the tiny bit of freedom their father had granted him before setting off on his latest hunt.
He’d walked out the door with his duffle slung over his back over a week and a half ago, and he hadn’t returned. They had no more food, no more money. Dean made sure that he was the only one who knew about that. Sammy was still too young to worry about those things.
Dean had been watching their next door neighbor, some creepy older lady, for the past few days. From what he could see, she didn’t have any pets, lived alone, and went grocery shopping a lot. She was a prime target.
He would do it that night, after putting Sam to bed. He’d sneak out, take what she had, and go back home. Sam would never know.
But it had to be that night, had to be soon. He’d tried to avoid it for as long as possible, tried to wait for dad. His stomach rumbled as he thought about it; cooking for Sam, fixing him what they had left, ignoring his own hunger for the sake of his brother. Dean hadn’t eaten in two days. It was definitely time to restock. He’d done it before. He knew he could do it again.
Sammy made another circle in the driveway, rolling his eyes as he passed by his brother, practically begging to venture out into the street. Dean gave him a slight nod, still watching the road, and Sam pedaled out onto the street, smiling wide.
At the same time, the door to the next house over opened, revealing the night’s target. She was a little older than John, her graying hair tied up in a bun. She had a trash bag in each hand, and nodded a greeting to Dean as she took the bags out to the cans that sat at the end of her drive. He waved, forcing a smile.
She looked nice enough. It almost made him feel bad about what he was about to do. Then his stomach growled at him and he forgot all about her nod and smile. What he was interested in was her fridge.
The lock had been easy enough to pick. He had gone in through the back door, and was happy to find that it led straight into the kitchen. He slunk through the shadows, hoisting a backpack over his shoulder as he crawled through the darkness of the house toward the refrigerator.
He dropped his bag and slowly opened the door, squinting at the light that shone from the inside of the appliance. His vision cleared quickly enough and he began his inspection.
There was lunchmeat, a bag of grapes, left-over spaghetti, cold soup, some beans, a salad, other assorted odds and ends. They all went into his backpack, placed carefully and lovingly.
Dean closed the door, blinking as his eyes readjusted to the darkness in the room. He gazed around the small kitchen, finding sliced bread and a couple of Tupperware containers on the counter. He put the bread in his bag and looked at the containers, his stomach rumbling.
His watch said it was still late, a little past midnight. He figured he could stop for a short snack, maybe look around the house and see if there was anything of value there. He hated the thought of stealing more from a woman who had never done anything to him, but they were low on cash, and Dean was never one to let an opportunity pass him by.
He left his bag on the kitchen floor and absently grabbed one of the containers, popping it open to find half a dozen or so chocolate chip cookies. He smiled at his good fortune and wandered into the next room over.
He absently popped a cookie in his mouth, stifling a moan of pleasure as his taste buds cried out in joy at the sensation, his stomach grumbling out a muted thank-you.
The woman’s living room was adorned with pictures of herself at a younger age, along with snapshots of a man Dean assumed to have been her husband and some kid who was probably her son. Or, who had been her son. According to a newspaper clipping that had been framed and hung up on the wall, both men were dead. Died in a plane crash.
Dean shuddered. How anyone could willing let themselves get thrown up in the air like that, giving up control, was beyond him. He’d flown many a time in his young life, propelled by whatever spirit they happened to be hunting that week, and he always crash-landed. He’d never been on a plane, though. Never planned on going, either. They were big, scary, heavy metal contraptions. Metal was not meant to fly, not at that weight. The clipping on the wall only supported his theory.
He turned his attention from the photos to the rest of the room. There was a table with some fake flowers in a vase in the center, sitting between a large couch and a newer TV. The boy smiled. The place they’d rented didn’t have a television, and most of the motels they stayed at didn’t have working sets. It might be nice to sit back and relax for a while.
He turned on the set and hit the volume button, keeping the steady hum of the programming quiet. He found some old cartoon and settled in to watch, happily munching on cookies as the minutes dragged on and his eyelids grew heavy.
Before he knew it, Dean was asleep.
The boy awoke to find a soft blue blanket covering his body, the empty Tupperware container no longer at his side, television turned off. Small clinking noises could be heard from the kitchen.
Slowly, Dean slid off the couch and walked from the house, opening he door as quietly as he could.
He ran across her lawn and into his own, praying that she wouldn’t come after him, wouldn’t press charges, wouldn’t tell his father. John didn’t know about the frequent food shortages, the things that Dean had done to keep himself and his brother fed.
He unlocked the front door and slid into his own house, locking up. He sat down at the kitchen table. He’d left his bag, left the food. They didn’t have breakfast. He was going to have to go somewhere else, find another house. He didn’t have time.
The doorbell rang. Dean’s heart pounded in his chest as he approached the door, stopped completely when he opened it.
The woman stood there, long hair hanging down, blowing into her face with the slight breeze. “You forgot something.” She held up his backpack, still open and overflowing with food.
Dean shook his head, trying to look as innocent as possible. “That’s not mine.”
She raised an eyebrow. “Come on. You can’t fool me, Dean.”
He took a stumbling step back. “How do you…?”
She gently pushed the bread down into his bag to reveal a small white tag with his name written on it. “And your reaction proves that you were just lying to me.”
The boy couldn’t stop the heat that crept into his face. “Look, lady-”
“Call me Cindy. All my friends do.”
He blinked. “Friends?”
To Dean’s surprise, the old woman smiled. “Yes, Dean. Friends.” She held his bag out toward him, and he took it, pulling it close to his chest, eyeing her with mistrust. “The next time you need something,” she said, “just ask.”
Cindy flashed a quick smile and turned away. He stood in the doorway and watched her walk off, his mouth hanging open in surprise. She hadn’t been mad. She hadn’t been mad, and she had given him his stuff- mostly her stuff- back to him. He didn’t know what to think of that.
They stayed in town for two more weeks that summer. Most days, Dean left Sam to his own devices. He wanted to find out more about Cindy, about her intentions. She must have been possessed, or somehow evil, to have taken an interest in him like that.
He tried squirting her with holy water he’d put inside a small squirt gun, but she didn’t react, at least not the way he’d expected. She’d simply laughed.
He’d done research, hung around her everyday. She took an interest in his life, wanted to know more about his family. After a week without finding anything off about her, besides her kindness, he started telling her big things. He told her the truth.
He told her about his mother, his father, his brother. He told her about ghosts and demons and spirits. She believed him. She said that she thought her house might be haunted. He offered to help her with that.
Cindy took Sam to a movie while Dean performed an exorcism, helping to guide whatever was haunting Cindy- most likely the ghost of someone in her family, due to its apparently benign nature- into the light. When she got back, after making sure that Sammy was snuggled up safe and sound under his covers so that Dean wouldn’t have to, she offered to reward him.
She had baked up some cookies- the most amazing things Dean had ever tasted- the day before. He sat at the kitchen table with her as he ate them, and explained his theory on the haunting and what he’d done to help her out.
“Thanks so much,” she said, looking around and breathing in the fresh air that seemed to permeate the house in the ghost’s absence. “You did good.”
He nearly chocked on a mouthful of cookie. “What?” he sputtered.
“You did a good job,” she repeated.
Dean felt himself smile, felt his stomach twist into a warm knot. No one had said anything like that to him in a long time, not since before his mother had died. He liked it. It was nice.
“Say it again?” he asked, his voice soft, eyes cast toward the table.
“You did good.” Her voice was soft as well, concerned, but he didn’t care. If felt so good. Like he had finally done something right.
“Could you…” He stopped. What if she said no? What if she got mad?
“Say my… my name… with it? Maybe?”
He felt a warm hand on his shoulder and looked up to find Cindy smiling down at him with tears in her soft blue eyes. “You did a very good job today, Dean. I’m proud of you.”
That last part just about broke him.
Dean liked hanging out with Cindy. She liked him. He reminded her of her own son, she said. Dean didn’t really care who he reminded her of, as long as she liked him; as long as she smiled at him and said nice things to him and baked him cookies and listened to him and gave him money to take care of Sammy. She offered to baby-sit sometime so that he could go do something fun by himself. She asked him when his birthday was so that she could get him something nice.
Dean didn’t want to move away. He liked staying in one place, liked staying with Cindy. She thought he was a good kid, too responsible for his own good. She wanted to help him.
He was almost disappointed when his dad came back, walked through the door with some old gas station licorice for Sammy and a mumbled half-thanks for Dean. He hugged Sam, nodded at Dean, and asked when dinner was going to be. Dean had put it in the oven half an hour before his father’s entrance, so anytime now.
The older boy excused himself after dinner and snuck away to Cindy’s house. She’d left a key under the mat for him so that he never had to break in again. He walked in, found her, and tried to explain. He didn’t want to leave, but now it was inevitable.
She wrapped her arms around him as he sat on the couch, stroking his hair, whispering nonsense to him as he cried. She told him that they could keep in touch, that all he had to do was call, and he knew her number, right? Right. That didn’t change anything, though. Dean wanted this, wanted contact, not some stupid voice over the miles. He wanted someone to comfort him and listen to him, and just be there.
It wasn’t fair.
Two days of packing up later, and the Winchester family was ready to leave. John already had another hunt lined up. Dean snuck away again, this time to say good-bye.
His key wasn’t under the mat by the front door. Figuring that Cindy had already moved it, expecting his absence, he knocked.
The woman who answered the door looked nothing like Cindy. Her hair was pulled tightly back into a pony-tail and her eyes were hard. “Yes?”
“I wanted to say good-bye,” Dean said. “And, thank you.”
“Good-bye.” Her voice was curt, her mouth drawn into a thin line as she glanced toward his house.
“We’re leaving today.”
She nodded. “For the best.”
The woman drew herself up, eyes flicking back toward the place that the Winchesters were leaving behind. “It’s Cynthia,” she stated before slamming the door in his face.
Every bit of hope she’d instilled in the boy, everything that she’d done to make him feel like he was worth something, like someone could love him again, faded with the wood-on-wood sound of the door hitting its frame.
It was in that moment that Dean knew there was something wrong with him. Why else would someone string him along for so long only to do such a cruel thing?
Hanging his head, rejection heavy on his heart, Dean went back to his house.
The spirit watched the man cry- big tears, dribbling one at a time down his face, streaking across freckles that she was amused to see he hadn’t lost as the years had gone by.
She wished that she could have told him, could have let him know that she couldn’t defy his father’s wishes, that John had followed him the night he’d gotten home, had watched as Dean sat in her living room and cried in her arms.
Cindy sighed, reaching up and wiping away the blood that still dribbled from her spectral forehead. A light shone in the corner of her vision, within her reach, and she could hear her husband and son calling to her, but she couldn’t go yet. Not until she saw the man that Dean Winchester, the little thief, had become.
Truth be told, she felt a little guilty. John had knocked on her door late at night, demanding to know what she had done to make his son cry. She had foolishly demanded to know why he suddenly seemed to care.
That had been her mistake.
John had threatened her, threatened to hurt her if she so much as spoke to his son again. She had been afraid. Dean had told her stories of what his father had done, the things he had killed. There was no doubt in Cindy’s mind that he could murder a person, as well. As much as she hated to admit it, she had obeyed his order to stay away from Dean. She had let the little boy down.
She had let the boy down, and this was what he had become. He had been abandoned again. This time, apparently, his brother had gotten in on the action, as well. He was alone, crying, shaking, scared. She had to make him know that it wasn’t his fault.
Cindy ignored the light a little longer, walked toward the man, and set a hand on his shoulder. Dean stiffened at the touch. She leaned down until her lips were right next to his ear. “They don’t know what they’re missing,” she whispered.
She straightened up and looked toward the light, toward her husband and son, marveling at the fact that she had met her fate as they had, plunging into the ocean during a storm.
The spirit smiled. “I’m ready.”
The light overtook her.
Dean stiffened, his sobs quieting as something cold settled onto his shoulder and the smell of fresh-baked cookies overwhelmed his nostrils. “They don’t know what they’re missing,” a familiar voice whispered into his ear, and he felt himself relax.
Her touch faded, the smell that had suddenly filled the room dispersing with it, and the hunter smiled.
He grabbed the remote and turned the television back on. He felt better somehow, like he had closure, like everyone’s departure wasn’t his fault. He watched as wreckage from Cindy’s plane was pulled from the ocean, and shuddered, despite himself.
“What a way to go,” he muttered. Dean had never liked the concept of planes, but thanks to Cindy, he knew for sure that flying wasn’t for him. Not even if Sammy came back and begged him.
Yeah, like that would ever happen.
Shannon - August 12, 2008 05:29 AM (GMT)
I don't know if this is the kind of PG-!# you want so if it is wrong, let me know. I'll redo it. Here goes. I have no idea what to call this either.
Unknown by Shannon
Six years old Sammy perked his head up and looked towards the window . "Did you hear that?' he asked, getting to his feet.
Sammy, sit down." Dean sighed in frustration as his little brother blocked the veiw to the t.v again. He jumped when he met his big bron eyes, staring at him.
"It's him." Sam exclaimed,running to the door.
"Where are you going?" Dean asked.
Sam turned the lock and tried opening the door. I want to go get some ice cream." he yelled.
"With what money?" Dean asked, looking back at his favorite tv show.
Sam gave up and hung his head. "This stinks." he pouted.
Dean scoffed as a commercail came on. "Tell me about it."
Sam looked to him and scanned the room. He ran to the couch and stuck his fingers between the cusions. Dean rolled his eyes. With no such luck, Sam turned to his brother. "Where's the money dad gave you?"
"Why?" Dean asked, not meeting his brothers gaze.
"I want some." Sam stated.
"Tough. That money is for food and food only." Dean told him.
Sam crossed his arms and put his lower lip out. "Well, ice cream is food."
"Too bad. I hid the money."
Sam jumped off the couch. "Fine then, I'll find it."
Dean watched his brother and directed his attention back on the screen. "Oh no, you missed it." he said, sarcastically.
"Sammy." Dean yelled, hearing a bang in the livign room.
"Wait, wait!" Sam shouted, running toward the door.
Dean got up and grabbed his brother by the arm, twirling him around. "Where did you get this?" he asked.
"Dean." Sam whined, trying to pull away.
Sam struggled when the noise stopped. He turned bright red to his brother and glared at him. "You made me miss it."
Dean did a boo-hoo and let him go, as Sam fell to the floor. Sam brought his knees up to his chest and started to cry. Dean turned and started back to the room. "If anything is broken I'm gonn--- Sammy!" he shouted, seeing the mess. He ran back out, but his brother wasn't there. "Sammy!" he saw the door wide open and ran outside. "Sammy!"
He looked both left and right and started to turn when this distant jingle whistled in his ear.Where was that sound coming from. He turned and ran down the one sidewalk. "Sam, where are you?" he called.
He continued calling for his brother, when an object far away got his attantion. He ran down the narrow lane and picked it up. This is Sammy's shoe. Looking up, he saw the truck parked. "Sammy!" he yelled, seeing a nmanhole in the middle. "Please don't be down there." Dean walked over and slide the iron lid aside. He looked down the scary whole and gulped. Putting his legs in, he jumped and hit the water with a splash.
"Dean," Sam yelled, running to him. "You found me." he said all to cheery to Deans liking.
Dean looked around and stood up, examing his baby brother. "Sam how did you get here?" he asked.
"The ice cream guy." Sam replied.
Dea looked to Sam and glanced around. He was getting alittle to creeped out by this. "We have to get otu of here." he said, pulling Sam, but jerked back, seeing that Sam stayed in place.
"I want my ice cream. I already gave the guy my money." Sam argued.
Dean pulled him again, but with no such luck. He grabbed Sams shoulders and looked eye to eye with him. "He's not interested in the money." he yelled, trying to get through to his brother.
He turned real fast when the song started up again. Getting closer and closer, that left him gasping. "Sammy," he whispered. "Move."
"Oh Dean, he's not going anywhere."
Sam looked up to him and smiled. "When do I get my ice cream?" he asked, unphazed by the hideuos thing. Arn't clowns suppose to scare kids? Dean wondered, stepping in front of his brother.
His odd behavior. Dean glared at the creature. "What did you do to my brother?", fearing that it did something to him.
The clown laughed. "I can't have him see my true form now, especailly if I'm gonna eat him."
Dean looked back to his brother. "Sammy."
"He can't leave."
Dean looked at him. "So let me guess, you make everyone think you're the ice cream man?"
The thing laughed. "Perfect isn't it? The only thing kids love and the only thing I love." he said, licking his lips. I can't wait to taste him."
Dean backed up with Sam, who tried fighting him off. "So then, how come my brother is acting like this is all okay?"
"The music." it whispered, humming the tune.
"Pretty." Sam said, trying to get away. Dean held a grip on him. "I heard of your kind before."
The clown looked at the boy. "My kind. There's only a few of us left now."
"Well doesn't that just suck?" Dean asked, sarcastically.
He stepped toward them, eyes blazing. "Give me the boy kid."
"No." Dean yelled. "I don't want you too eat my brother."
"But, he came on his own free will." the creature snickered.
"Right." Dean yelled, staring hard in his eyes.
"There's no chance in getting out of here with him."
"Just watch me." Dean shot, turning around and pushing Sam down the tunnel.
Sam kept dragging his feet and stopping. "When will I get my ice cream?" he whined.
"Later Sammy, I promise."
His little brothers expression changed and he smile at Dean. "Yay ice cream!" he cheered, looking around. "How did we---"
"Keep going." Dean spat, pushing his brother. They turned and went through a gap, entering a much larger tunnel. The thought of killing these things circling his brain. Then he snapped his figners. They need to be burned. Where is he gonna find a light though?
Sam tripped in the water and fell to the floor. Dean picked him up and they turned, seeing a half skeleton out of the water. He threw his hand over Sams mouth. Pulling his fully up, he backed up and looked around the area.
"Dean." Sam started.
Dean walked up to the jars and looked in them "Ewww."
"It follows you around."
"Come on." Dean said, turning to see the creature. "Admiring my work." the thing smiled, stepping toward them.
"Stay away from us." Dean warned, pulling his brother close.
"The boy is mine."
"In your dreams." Dean shot.
The thing started to advance on them, whe its head snapped sideways. Dean followed his gaze, hearing far away splashes.
"Oh great, it sighed. "You left the front door open."
Dean looekd to Sammy. "Dad, we're in here." he yelled, running toward the tunnel entrance.
The clown turned and slashed the boy, as he fell back into the water. "Dean!" Sam cried.
"Sammy, get out of here." Dean yelled, seeing it head toward his brother.
Sam backed up into the wall and stared at the creature-like clown, as it grabbed him by the shoulders. He shook with fear. "Dean" he moaned.
"Dean tried sitting. "I'm coming Sammy." he winced, pulling himself through the water. "You don't want him." he said, seeing the creature was starting to feed.
It turned and looked at him. "Do you mind? I like to dine in peace.
"That isn't gonna happen."
The clown rolled his eyes and closed his mouth. It turned to the talking meat. He dropped the small boy and walked up to the Dean, picking him up. "I guess you can be an appetizer." he said, starting to open his mouth.
"I'd rethink your choice of food if I were you."
The creature stopped and looked around, growling at the intruder. "Your talk------" he stopped short as the flare hit him. Dean kicked it back and hit the water.
"Dad." Dean started.
John Winchester looked over to his eldest and nodded, beofre heading to his little boy. "Come on." he said, picking Sam up.
"Dad." Sam cried, wrapping his arms tightly around his neck
Dean stood up and limped to them, smiling as John put a hand on his shoulder. That little bit of silence said enough.
They turned and headed toward the exit. John sighed, holding his boy close to him, as his eldest tried, leading the way. "Dean, you are about to fall over."
Dean looked back to him. "I'm fine sir."
John sighed again. He walked up to his eldest and wrapped his one arm around him, as they came to the manhole. John helped Dean out, then got Sam out and he followed. He slid the lid back in place and stood up, hugging his boys. Dean smiled. His dad never hardly hugged them. This is what he feels and calls one of those kodak moments.
John pulled away and looked at his sons. "I come back from a friends house, find the front door open, t.v still on, aand a mess in the bedroom."
Yep, moment's over. Dean thought."Dad how did you know to come here?" he asked.
"Well, I figured the thing had to be hiding out in a sewer around here since most of the dissappearings happened in this neighborhood." John explained.
Dean looked to his dad. "It wanted to eat Sammy."
Sam looked at him and pushed him. "It wanted to eat you too."
John chuckled at his boys. He frowned and looked to Sam. "Sorry kiddo."
"It's alright dad. You didn't know."
John mangled the kids hair "So the ice cream man huh." he said.
"Yeah, that sneaky clown. He thought he could draw kids in through the music." Dean told him. He stopped and thought for a second. "Why, didn't the music have any effect on me?"
John shrugged. "I don't know." he lied. "Who wants ice cream?" he asked, slapping his hands together. He was just glad that his boys were safe.
Dean looked in disgust and the two stared at Sammy, The Ice Cream Kid. Sam looked to them and scrunched his nose. "Can we just go home?"
John snorted and staretd walking back with his boys. He could really go for some of that chocolate chip mint ice cream though. John smirked. "Then, I guess you two will have to clean up that big mess you made."
"But I di-----on second thought, ice cream sounds good." Dean blurted.
Sam nodded and John laughed as they ade it nack to the impala, The only reminder of home.
Sam climbed into the back seat, as Dean and John got in the front. John started the car and headed down to the nearest Dairy Queen. From the back seat, out of the blue, Sam said something that made John snort.
"I hate clowns."
hobbleit - August 12, 2008 07:58 AM (GMT)
Cool I'll do it at the weekend
Sam451823 - August 12, 2008 04:57 PM (GMT)
Count me in, just give me a few days to draft up and revise my entry.
04steff04 - August 13, 2008 07:05 AM (GMT)
ok i dont know if its pg-13 ill change it if its not :D this is my first challenge so here goes nothing :lol:
(i hope this isnt too long)
In My Dream Darkness Takes Over
Sam was 13 years old still trying to figure out this job he had to ordeal with his smart ass of a brother , he stared outside the window counting the trees as they passed by, knowing inside it would make him a little sick it was better than hearing Dean rant on about killing a zombie that can give you 5 years of good luck.
"hey sammy wats wrong.."Dean said turning his head a little worried .
"im fine, just thinking"he was confused unable to grasp the fact that things had to be killed no matter what happens.
"please dont tell me you pouting over that dead thing"John said looking at his rear view mirror.
"she was 11 Dad she didnt deserve to be burned"Sam said glaring at his dad.
Dean turned back looking straight forward at the dusty road, picturing his father expression.
"sam she was dead...we couldnt do anything else, i cant believe you actually had a crush over her" upset at the fact that his own son disliked the job he does , his anger started to grow more intense .
"i didnt have a crush on her...its wasnt right to do that to her, they did it to mom..."
He said still not finished with his sentence, he could see dean clenching his fist.
"dont talk about your mother in that way...do i make myself clear!!"He said causing the windows vibrate.
"yes sir"Sam said a little irritated by his father and brother.
Dean takes out a snickers bar , as if nothing happened he turns on the radio to ACDC.
"were did you get that?" john asked surprised at the fact that he never bought his son a candy in his life.
"well first i gave money to the cashier, and then i waited till now...opened the sucker up and eat it" he gives a smirk to go along with it.
John smacks Dean in the head ,deans first instinct was to hold on to his head making sure it didnt fly off, the snickers flew out of his hands and toward the window.
"i dont want you to eat this garbage when your on a job"He says still looking at the road they park at the nearest hotel room.
"hey sammy we have cable" Dean said flipping threw the channels, he stops on one of the channels he stares at the screen hypnotized.
"ok...dean"he said sitting on the bed"wat are you watching?"
"nothing..nothing"Flipping threw the channels as fast as he could, he stopped at one of the movies pressing the info button he realized this was one of his favorite movies."hey look "IT" is on ,come watch it sam".
Sam moved closer to the television, there father was preparing all his weapons for another hunt. "get ready for bed boys, we have a big day tomorrow"
"coming dad i just want sam to watch this " Dean said laying two pillows at the edge of the bed"come here ill hold you if you get scared"A wide grin appeared on his face patting the pillow next to him.
"you suck...im not scared of clowns" Sam said grabbing the pillow a little hesitant and places it against his chest sitting on the floor at the front of the bed.
They gazed at the little girl afraid looking toward the sink a red bubble appeared bursting in red everything was full of blood. Sam grabbed one of the blankets on the bed and covered his whole body.The clown smiled tricking a child into getting his boat back the kid reached closer and closer into the opened sewer having so much trust .....the clown grabbed the kid tightly by his wrist and pulled his body into the darkness his mouth widened in victory and began to laugh showing his sharp horrific teeth. Sam jumped startled by his dark sinister laugh.
"boys turn off that television now!!"John says walking toward his bed, he looks at sam seeing fear in his eyes.
"Damn it dean you scared your brother...its time for bed"Sam looked at his dad jumping over dean to the edge of the bed. "im not scared" he closed his eyes shut and tried to erase the movie from his head, he quickly drifted off. In the middle of complete darkness Dean slowly walked to the sink in the bathroom and and grabbed a glass pf water, slowly dunking in sams hand "Sammy i knew you were the one who wet the bed" he whispered.Sam turned to the wall his hand still placed in the cold water, Dean crawled back into the covers and drifted off to a sweet slumber.
Sam began to winced in pain"sam wat do you want for breakfast " his mother said staring at him holding out a giant cake placing it on the table."ill just have pancakes" He said calmly looking at the stack of pancakes that magicaly showed up on the table, he started to eat the pancakes glancing back at his mother. He knew his mom was dead but still had no expleanation why she was here now.She began to walk toward him still smiling "just pancakes sammy ?..you must be starving please it this cake" She said sitting next to him grabbing his wrist"im okay mom really". Her grin grew wider and wider,her face pale , sams eyes widen seeing his mother turn into this viscious clown her eyes turned pitch black "wats wrong with you sam!!" her nails pierced threw sams clothing as she tried to grab him, He ran to the nearest corner and closed his eyes.
"sam dont run from me!!"She walks swiftly to him"its okay i wont hurt you...i love you "Sam opened his eyes slowly in fear while darkness consumed him. He woke up sweating turning to his dad and Dean who were still asleep he felt something moist on his sheats.
"Wat the ....dean" he said his face turning red from emberrasment looking at the glass of water.
He pulled the sheets off the bed with all his force "man wat are you ..."
Dean said falling to the hard icey floor "wat the hell...i was dreaming about angelina jolie" he said trying to gain his balance, he looked toward the bed seeing a yellow stain
"sammy ..i knew you were the guy that wets the bed....you look like the type .."
He looks at the side of his boxers also feeling a little wet."im wet...with your bodily fluids how much water did you drink last night" Dean walked toward the closet grabbing a towel and headed to the bathroom in a fuss.He started to wipe the stain off with a wet cloth, he sees his dad awake from all the comotion "hey dad up so soon" Sam says thrownig the wet rag to the bathroom "aww thats just gross" Dean said walking out of the bathroom grabbing the soaking wet towel from his face.
"i think im gonna throw up" Dean said covering his mouth, tunring to the sink to wash his face.
"cmon boys we have to go get this avanged spirit..it commited suicide and now its haunting a circus"john said putting his items in the car.
"wat does it look like"Dean said helping his dad with the guns.
"he died in a clown costume so theres a posibility he will haunt the circus as a clown...we just have to go and take care of business , put this spirit to rest "
Sam looked at john, hoping he might of heard something different "a clown?"he said jumping to the back seat trying to hide his face full of terror.
"yeah it is...now lets go"John said closing all the doors in the car.
Sam started to bang his head on the window just hard enough for him to hear , surprised and anrgy that this was really happening, he had to kill a clown . He sighed looking out the window "im not doing this" he whispered drawing circles on his jens with his fingers, he laid down on the backseat and acted as if the long car ride made him fell asleep.
"well sammys not coming...look at him " dean said pointing at his little brother"well its just you and me dean...sam needs his rest" they climed out of the car and headed for the dark and gloomy circus.
"stupid clowns"sam said burying his head on the seat drifting off to sleep.
hobbleit - August 17, 2008 02:27 PM (GMT)
Here's my entry
Who’s afraid of the Big Bad Clown? - hobbleit.
“Stay in the car and don’t move,” John Winchester instructed to his two sons as he stepped out of the car. “I’ll be back soon,” he told them and headed to the motel office to book a room.
It was a hot day; it had been like that for the last week or so. It was the time of year when the dust was swept up by the wind and the hot weather made it unbearable. It was only ten in the morning but it was already hot. It wasn’t very pleasant.
The town they’d be staying in was small, one of those towns where everybody knew everybody else and nobody’s business was private for long. John had arrived to investigate a potential haunting so now they were stuck here for however long it took.
“Dean?” A six year old Sam asked to get his brother’s attention. He didn’t want to stay in the car; it was boring. It was a sunny day and he wanted to be outside, playing in the street with the other kids. There seemed to be some sort of fair going on. But he was stuck in a hot car and there was no way his dad would let him go.
“What?” Dean replied.
“I need to pee,” Sam said in a whiny voice.
“Can’t you wait? Dad’ll be back soon with the motel room keys and then you can go to the bathroom.”
“I can’t wait, I need to go now.”
“Just hold it in; look dad’s coming back now, see,” Dean pointed at the window to prove their father was returning.
“Come on,” John said, opening the door. “We’re in room seven.”
Sam stared at the fair in the hot afternoon sun from the motel room window. He really wanted to go but his dad had told him that he couldn’t. Dean was the same; he’d been even more overprotective of Sam since Wisconsin and Sam didn’t know why. It’s not like he was a baby or anything.
“Why can’t we go?”
“’Cos dad said we had to stay here while he does research,” Dean replied, not even bothering to look up from the magazine he was flicking through.
“But dad doesn’t have to know. Please Dean can we go? Pleeeeeaaaaassssseeee?” He added extra letters into the please for emphasis.
“No Sam,” Dean repeated. He still felt guilty enough after the Shtriga incident and having ignored his father’s orders; he wasn’t going to disobey him again in a hurry. “Now be quiet and stop asking.”
Sam huffed and went back to staring out of the window. It wasn't fair, he thought. Other kid’s families let them go and it’s not like it was a million miles away; it was just down the street. Then a thought occurred to him. What if Dean didn’t know he’d gone? He could just sneak out and be back before he noticed. Now the problem became how could he get away from his brother’s watchful gaze?
“I said no, Sammy.”
“I wasn’t gonna ask again,” Sam pouted.
“Then watch TV.”
“I don’t wanna watch TV, I wanna go outside.”
“Dad said to stay inside ‘til he got back so you can’t go outside,” Dean looked at his brother; who was still pouting.
“But it’s so hot in here.”
“Fine,” Dean eventually gave in. He had to admit that Sam was right; it was uncomfortably hot in the room. “But the door stays open and you don’t go any further than the parking lot.”
“Thanks Dean,” Sam grinned and headed towards the door. Dean followed him and took up a place by the window. He wasn’t going to let Sam out of his sight.
Sam stood at the edge of the motel grounds and watched the fair. He kept glancing over to the window where Dean was keeping watch and sighed. There was no way he could get away.
Damnit, Dean thought as he sat. He really needed to use the bathroom but if he left then there would be no-one to watch Sam. But he had to go really bad. After weighing up his options, he decided he really had to go otherwise he’d pee himself. Taking one more quick glance at Sam, he hurried to the bathroom. When he returned Sam had disappeared.
“SAM!” He called out, worried for his little brother. “SAMMY!” He ran out of the door but there was no Sam in sight. He’d just gone.
Sam felt guilty for leaving his brother; he knew that dad would yell at him for letting Sam out of his sight but the fair looked like too much fun. He wandered down the street, mesmerised by all the lights and people having fun. He made his way through the crowds trying to take it all in.
By the time he realised he was lost, it was too late.
Dean was going to kill Sam when he found him. Why the hell couldn’t he have just done what Dean had told him at stayed inside. His dad was going to go mad when he found out. He’d just have to find his brother before dad got home. He quickly headed towards the fair to find Sam.
Sam wanted Dean. He was alone and scared. He wished he’d stayed inside like Dean had told him. At least then he wouldn’t be all alone. He could feel his lip tremble and his eyes fill up with tears.
“Hey, are you okay son?” Sam heard a voice come from behind him. He turned and saw the most frightening thing in the world. It was a clown. He had a ghostly white face and a bright red smile; which made the man look grotesque and very terrifying for a six year old boy. Sam screamed very loudly. “Is everything all right?” The clown asked and made a move towards the boy. Sam screamed even louder and tried to run. “Are you lost?” He asked and grabbed hold of Sam’s arm. “Do you need help to find your parents?”
“Leave me alone,” Sam cried and tried to pull away from the clown but his grip was too tight. “Let me go,” he sobbed. He really wanted to get away from the scary man but he wouldn’t let go.
“I only want to help,” the man looked sincere but Sam couldn’t see past the face paint. All he could see was a scary man with a mask trying to hurt him and he just wanted Dean to come and save him.
“Hey, get your hands off my brother,” Dean called out and pulled Sam away from the clown.
“I was just trying to look after him,” the man protested. “He looked afraid.”
“We don’t need anyone looking out for us,” Dean said to him. “Come on Sammy let’s get you back,” he took hold of his little brother’s hand and led him back to the motel before sitting a snivelling Sam onto the bed. “Come on, stop crying,” Dean told him and sat down on the bed next to Sam.
“No, you’ll yell at me,” Sam sobbed.
“I’m not gonna yell at you,” Dean replied. “I was just worried about you.”
“I got lost and I got scared and there was the scary man.”
“He was just a clown.”
“I don’t like clowns,” Sam told Dean, his eyes still glistening with tears. “They’re scary.”
“Clowns aren’t scary; they’re just people.”
“There are a lot scarier things out there than clowns.”
“No there aren’t.”
“Remind me never to let you watch ‘It,’” Dean muttered under his breath.
“Nothing Sammy,” Dean replied. Let’s make a deal; I won’t let the evil clowns get you if you don’t tell dad what happened today. Do we have a deal?” Dean asked and Sam nodded. “Promise?”
“Promise,” Sam agreed. “You’re really brave, Dean.”
“You’re not scared of anything,” Sam declared. “You make all the monsters go away.”
“That’s not true, there’s plenty I’m scared of.”
“Like when you run off.”
“Then I won’t run off ever again. I’ll be with you forever and ever.”
“Good, now let’s get you cleaned up before dad gets home,” Dean smiled as he stood up and helped Sam jump down off the bed.
“I don’t wanna go to McDonalds ever again,” Sam told his brother in a small voice and Dean had to laugh.
“Okay Sammy, whatever you want.”
John returned a few hours later to find Sam fast asleep and Dean sat in a chair watching TV.
“Things okay?” He asked his oldest son.
“Yeah things have been great.”
“Sam hasn’t been too bored has he?”
“Sam’s had enough excitement for one day,” Dean cryptically told him. “Oh and he might wake up after having nightmares about a scary clown. Just so you know.”
“You let him watch ‘It’ didn’t you?”
“Yeah sure,” Dean lied. “He didn’t like the clown.”
“What did I tell you about letting him watch horror films?”
“That I shouldn’t because he scares easily. But he really wanted to watch it and he wouldn’t take no for an answer.”
“You really need to learn to say no to him, Dean,” John told him as he headed towards the bathroom to take a shower. “Go to bed.”
“Yes sir,” Dean said as he turned the television off and headed to the bed. He’d got wrong off his dad but at least it wasn’t as bad as it would’ve been if he knew the truth. Just to be on the safe side he was going to stay awake a little longer to watch Sam.
Just to be on the safe side.
QueenBee - August 25, 2008 03:16 PM (GMT)
Today's the deadline, right? So, does this mean I can still post a response to the challenge and it'll still be accepted?
Kyle - August 25, 2008 04:53 PM (GMT)
QueenBee, you're usually given to midnight Eastern Standard Time to get your challenges uploaded.
QueenBee - August 25, 2008 05:02 PM (GMT)
|QUOTE (Kyle @ Aug 25 2008, 04:53 PM)|
| QueenBee, you're usually given to midnight Eastern Standard Time to get your challenges uploaded. |
Okay. Thanks for lettin' me know. :)
Lo - August 26, 2008 06:31 PM (GMT)
Challenge is now closed. Voting shall be up shortly. :D