fic: Learn to Say the Same Thing (1/2)
Title: Learn to Say the Same Thing
Pairing: Sam/Dean
Rating: PG
Words: 14,000
Summary: As the purpose of this weekend is to get to know one another, please wear your name tag at all times. Sam and Dean end up at a single's retreat in the mountains and run into old friends.
A/N: This fic is for sowell for spn-j2-xmas, and is set at some non-specific time within the last few seasons. It is fantastically late, sorry about that. I hope you’ve had a really nice holiday season and that this fic makes you smile. Thanks go to oddishly for reading it over, and bertee for running the comm so awesomely and suffering late posting (I LOVE YOU) Inspiration for the hotel in this fic is from this blurry little picture, and girlguidejones gave me the idea for things that glow! Merry Christmas and Happy New Year!
Dean didn’t take the right turn at the fork, and there was no place to turn around on the mountain road.
"Quit your bitching," he said when Sam spent the next three minutes sullenly watching the trees fly by.
Sam tried for all the world to act like he was not invested in this, saying, "I’m not. I have a book," but his ass was sore from too much sitting, and Dean had drained the last water bottle half an hour ago. The thought of water made him more thirsty, so he conceded and said, "It’ll be ok. Just seriously, turn around when you can."
They were trying to reach Maple Mountain Lodge, which the website described as a small slice of heaven snuggled away into the mountains.
"Bet there are rabid squirrels," Dean said as they finally pulled around onto the correct road, narrow and with snow plowed up against the sides. "Or mountain lions. Every place has its downside. Sure the pictures looked good, but nothing can be that gorgeou- holy smokes."
Sam looked up out the dash. The place was - he would never say this out loud - adorable, a stone building with rounded towers and high windows. It was evening now, so the last rays of sun were shining off the polished red cobblestone drive, and the hotel looked sleepy, smoke curling out of its many chimneys.
"Beats Rufus’s cabin, that’s for sure," Dean said.
"I don’t know. Rufus’s cabin has that basement. There sure are a lot of people here," Sam said as they circled around to the large side parking lot. It was mostly filled with non-mountainy cars.
"Place like this though? So close to Christmas, there are bound to be a ton of couples on a mountain getaway." He gave Sam a dirty grin.
Sam unstrapped and got out of the car, looking up at the cheery glow coming from each hotel window. Floodlights lit up the outside walls, today’s snow shoveled neatly into the flower beds.
"Now this doesn’t look too bad," Dean said, handing him his bag. "Actually, it’s downright welcoming. It’s been a long time since we’ve found a place this nice that had a string of unexplained deaths attached to it."
"Let’s hope it’s just nothing," Sam said.
Because it could be nothing. Two pages in Dad's journal glued together with monster goo had come unstuck last week, revealing an account dated winter '93. Some untimely had deaths at one Maple Mountain Lodge, victims becoming violently ill and then dying within thirty-six hours.
Now, it was a week till Christmas, and although the account wasn't much to go on, here they were in Vermont.
Dean kicked at a pile of snow. "Let's go in, I’m freezing my balls off."
"Charming."
"Aw, Sammy, it’s almost Christmas. Where's your holiday spirit?"
"Shut up. You don't even care about that stuff."
Dean shrugged. "But it’s a hell of a good reason for a vacation. Come on, a little R&R will do you good."
Large front doors, hung with piney wreaths, swung open with some effort onto a lobby with a giant front desk and a lounge area off to one side. A long window provided a view of a snowy peak.
The desk guy was wearing a gold-plated name tag that announced him as Blake, and he gave them a cheerful once-over. Sam knew that he should be suspicious - not every efficient hotel staff was Mercury, god of bellhoppery, but some certainly had been - but this guy seemed immediately nice.
Blake clacked away at the computer. "Names, please?"
"Francis," Dean said. "And Schmidt."
"Great." He took the card information on a recent Visa. "Now," he said. "They start setting out breakfast at 8:30, and you won’t want to miss the orientation at 9."
Sam looked around then leaned in fractionally. "Sorry. Orientation?"
Blake’s smile didn’t falter. "Yes. Not everyone looks good that early in the morning, but it looks like you won't have a problem wowing the rest of the group."
"Uh," Sam said.
"Group?" Dean cut in. Which did throw the guy a bit.
"Kris Kringle’s Single’s Mingle," Blake said. "You are here for the single’s event, aren’t you?"
"Single's event?"
"The whole hotel’s been reserved." Blake gave them an apologetic look. "Single minglers only, I'm afraid."
Dean laughed and slapped the desk. "Oh, that group. You know, I totally thought you meant some AA meeting the way you said it. Yeah, we are totally up here for that event."
"Although it’s our first time," Sam said. "Is there anything you can tell us? Any advice for us newbies?"
"Oh, great!" said Blake. "Well as you know, the event is held every year. It’s very festive and low-stress, with get-to-know-you activities and a dance. And this building’s over two hundred years old and very secluded. You’ll never find a more romantic location. Everyone deserves some happiness over the holidays, don’t you think?"
Dean laughed, extra loud. "Ha, yeah, so the building’s old, you say? It defiitely looks like it’s seen a lot. Lots of history here. Ghosts of Christmas past, even. Dark, possibly murderous ghosts?"
"Uh, what?" Blake said gamely, shooting a smile at Sam.
Dean grinned back. "Never seen any of that here?"
"No, can’t say that I have," Blake said.
"Oh. Any...cursed artifacts? That, when handled, yield disastrous results?"
"Nope." Blake was beginning to look more bemused.
"Ok, tell me this, Blake," Dean said, sending a significant look Sam's way. "How many of these events have you worked?"
"Well, I work here over Christmas break. For the past four years, I think? My folks live in the town just down the mountain. But I've never attended the actual event. Not because I'm not single. Because I am," he smiled at Sam, "Single. So you are too, I'm assuming?"
"Uh, yeah," said Sam. It's not like he had to lie about it.
Dean shifted and the single's mingle bag crushed in his hand. Everyone looked at it.
"Great!" Blake said. "Well then, I have your room card right here. Room 207, through that door and up the stone stairs on the right. Watch out, this building’s old and you should hold onto the railing." He passed the key over the counter. "Enjoy your night."
The room had two squashy beds with worn, soft sheets, and a deer head nailed over each one that looked downright ominous. Sam slept like the dead and, the next morning, woke to the sound of icicles dripping off the roof onto their windowsill.
He dropped a pillow on Dean’s face on his way to the bathroom. Dean snorted and raised up on one elbow to squint at him, before collapsing back into the warm cocoon of his bed. He always slept heavily when it was snowing outside, and this way he would be awake when Sam got out of the shower.
Sam emerged ten minutes later, got dressed, and then sat at the edge of the one chair to lace up his boots.
Dean swung his legs out from under the covers and looked sleepily at Sam. "You in a hurry to meet some sad, single folk? On our romantic holiday weekend?"
"Shut up, we don’t want to stick out by being late," Sam said tying the laces of one boot into a tight bow. "Undercover 101, keep up."
"How did we end up at a weekend getaway?" Dean wondered. "Just, how? They’re probably gonna notice if we start poking around, like we’re acting weird."
"That’s why we don’t act weird," said Sam. "Come on. Get up, I’m hungry."
Dean took just as long primping as he always did, but when he came out of the bathroom, he was clean-shaven and smelled like something Sam wasn’t familiar with.
Sam smirked. "You dress up for this?"
"Well maybe I did," Dean said.
"Huh."
Dean rolled his eyes and grabbed his jacket. "Maybe I’ll meet some chicks while I’m saving everyone’s asses."
"I'm pretty sure women won't want to hang around if something really is causing gross, protracted deaths," Sam pointed out, but it was true, Dean smelled good, so he walked close behind him.
Ribbons wound around the railing as they headed down the spiral staircase. There was a faint chill to the air, and Sam caught glimpses of a snowy landscape out each small turret window as they passed. A woman in Princess Leia buns was in the lobby, shuffling papers at the front desk. She gave them a big smile when they passed.
"Enjoy complimentary breakfast and orientation," she said. "It'll be off to the sunroom on the left."
The sunroom was long and bright, running the side of the hotel. It was packed full of a couple hundred people, all chatting in groups. Mistletoe clung to each corner and in each doorway, and a huge bow was stuck to the ceiling with little bells dangling down. French doors opened out onto a wide terrace and, beyond that, a forest of snowy trees.
"Whoa," Sam said.
"This place looks like the inside of a present." Dean moved closer to Sam to let two women with paper coffee cups pass them by and Sam caught another hint of Dean’s cologne. "With a whole load of single people," he said. "Poor shmucks."
Sam snorted. "Dean, we’re single people."
"Yeah, I know," said Dean. "But not like that."
"Like how, then?"
Dean gave him an unreadable look, and then his gaze traveled past Sam’s shoulder and he stood up a little straighter.
"Hello, you two," a woman’s voice said. When Sam turned, he saw that the woman was wearing a Santa hat over her strawberry blonde hair.
Sam could hear the leer when Dean said. "Well, hello to you, too."
She extended a hand. "I’m Cammy. My wife Trish and I run the event every year."
"I’m Sam," Sam said as he shook her hand. "And this is Dean. We’re really excited about this weekend."
"Well, make yourself at home. There’s a station over there with the printed schedule and supplies to make name tags. As the purpose of this weekend is to get to know one another, please wear your name tag at all times."
Dean watched her go, a little mournfully, Sam thought.
"Strike one," Sam said.
Dean ignored him. "So what's the plan, exactly?"
"I'm not sure. Fit in and look out for signs of the illness? Ask questions about past deaths? Or, you know, if anyone drops dead suddenly, that'll be a good indicator as well."
"Thank you, Captain Obvious."
Dean did Sam’s name in pink, the lettering in curly cues, and shrugged when Sam put the name tag on his shirtfront anyway. Then, the bell rang, and they followed the crowd as everyone filed into a dark room with rows of chairs and a podium at the front.
Once everyone was seated, a woman stepped up to the mic. She leaned in and said, "Welcome, welcome, to the Kris Kringle Single’s Mingle, the singles event for the very open-minded."
"What the hell does that mean?" Dean whispered.
"My name is Trish, and I'm here to welcome all single newbies in the crowd. And of course, hello again to returning participants! We know this weekend is a fun time for everyone, but we sincerely hope you won’t have to come a third time."
There was a smattering of chuckles and the man next to Sam shook his head sadly.
"We hope that you'll take every opportunity to talk to other participants. After all, we're all here to meet new people and form meaningful attachments. Today’s schedule includes a nature hike and picnic lunch in this hotel’s big backyard, Vermont’s beautiful Green Mountains. You may also choose to stay in for a lunch of conversation and fine food. This afternoon brings us an hour-long round of speed dating. And tonight’s themed party is Holiday Balls and Belles, where you come decked out in your tantalizing tinsel."
"Tomorrow’s a full day of activities, but we'll reveal that later! If anyone's tried online dating-" Again, the chuckle that swept through the room. "Well then, you've all taken fun, extensive questionnaires, plumbing the depths of your desires and personality preferences.
"Here, we have something similar, what we call Dream Quizzes. What do you dream of in a relationship? What does your dream guy or gal look like on paper? We'll use these tests to place you in groups during our speed dating rounds to improve your chances of finding a match, or multiple matches. And at the end of this weekend, we’ll give you the results and a list of who you’re most compatible with. After that, it's up to you!"
"Dude," Dean muttered as the lights came back on and the buzz of conversation resumed. "Remember you used to take these at the library when you were fifteen?"
"Shut up, those were personality tests," said Sam, and passed down the pile of quizzes. "These tests use algorithms that are constantly being improved upon by user experience. Chances are, the results of these tests will actually show you who you'd be good with."
Sam handed Dean a pen and then looked down at the paper in front of him. After writing "Sam Schmidt," his age, and his star sign, he started in on the questions:
How would you describe your hobbies?
a. Arts, Crafts, & Bricolage
b. Outdoors & Trips to REI
c. Reading, Writing, & Photography
d. Culinary & Foodie
Well, that was easy. He put a slash through B and moved on to the next question.
Which option most closely matches your morning toilette?
a. Up at the crack of dawn and ready to start my day.
b. Careful hair coiffing and brush my teeth for a full two minutes.
c. Slow & surly starter. I'd love for someone to put the coffee pot on for me.
d. Shower twice a week & out the door in five minutes.
B, definitely B.
There were a bunch of obvious questions and then some that Sam would never answer under normal circumstances. But since the tests would be confidential, he made honest choices, angling his test away when Dean tried to sneak a look.
Which do you look for in your soulmate?
a. They bring me breakfast
b. They love their job
c. They get along with my parents
d. They offer to drive
Sam thought about that for a full minute before he skipped it. He'd come back to it later. He glanced over at Dean's and saw that under How would you describe your past relationship style? Dean had chosen Love em and leave em. Sam rolled his eyes.
When he was on the second to last of the questions - How experimental were you in college? - Trish spoke into the mic.
"Take all the time you need, but when you're done, pass them to the left."
Sam circled the last two points and passed his paper down. He wanted to double-check his answers but reminded himself that the results didn't actually matter, he wasn’t here hoping to find out who he should spend the rest of his life with.
"Well, looks like that’s it," said Trish. "Now go on out there and have some breakfast. Get ready for the nature hike or relax until lunch. You’re single, so you best be prepared to mingle. Any questions can be directed to the people wearing the Santa hats."
As the crowd stood and made their way out the double doors back into the sunroom, Dean leaned in to say, "This is so weird. But cool. Strangely cool. Oh look," He pointed. "Free food."
The long tables were now loaded buffet-style with eggs and avocado slices and toast. Dean split off in that direction as Sam made a beeline for the drinks table. He got himself and Dean cups of coffee just as Blake the hotel guy came to put a basket of muffins on the table next to the sugar.
His eyes squinted up in a smile when he saw Sam. "Oh, hi again."
Sam gave him a wave. "Hey."
Blake’s eyes traveled down to Sam’s chest. "Nice nametag. Are you an artist or something?"
"Thanks, uh," Sam nodded across the room at Dean. "He made it for me."
"Right, right. You having a good time yet?"
"You know, I’m looking forward to the hike." As he said it, Sam realized it was true. The atmosphere here was really low-stress, and if this whole possible case ended up being a false alarm, he thought maybe they could spend the rest of the weekend just hanging out. "How is it?"
Blake grinned. "It’s more a half hour walk on a very well-maintained path. But it’s beautiful." He took in Sam’s very no-nonsense boots. "You like snow?"
Sam shrugged. "Not especially."
Blake smiled big again. "Oh well, maybe you'll like the muffins."
Sam took one and bit into it. It broke apart easily to reveal it was still warm from the oven.
"Oh my god," he said through the mouthful. "Did you make these?"
Blake laughed. "You think I can bake? I'm in a doctoral program, man. I’ve lived on ramen and alcohol for the past four years. No, the servers made them special, though, so I’ll pass the sentiment along."
As Blake walked away, a woman stepped up to take his place at the table. She had short, dark hair and took a muffin with a purpose.
Sam paused before he realized that yes, it actually was who it looked like. "Jody?"
Jody turned. "Oh, hey!" She looked as surprised as Sam was, but her smile was somewhat strained. "What are you doing here? At this expensive weekend in the middle of nowhere?"
"It’s good to see you, too." Sam took in her jeans and sweater. "You look...wow, you look great. I’m guessing you’re attending the event?"
Jody looked down at herself like she was seeing her civilian clothes for the first time.
"Not in your cop getup," Sam clarified.
"Shh, I’m keeping that on the down low."
"You mean, keeping it on the 10-94?" Dean asked, coming up behind them. "Hi, Jody."
"As I am not a cop, I have no idea what that means," Jody said with a wink. "But FYI? You just used the police code for drag racing."
"Oh, that’s why I know it," Dean said.
"No really, boys. What’s going on? I highly doubt you came here to meet someone."
"Why not?"
She gave them a look that encompassed everything about them as people. Sam had to agree.
"We’re on a case," he said.
Dean continued, "Our dad kept records of every big bad he hunted, a journal. He wrote about some unexplained deaths at this hotel around Christmas twenty years ago."
"Ok," said Jody. "What does that have to do with nowadays? And with a bunch of people looking for their soulmates?"
"We don't know what the connection is, but it's been happening every year, seeming illnesses that crop up out of nowhere."
"What do you think it is?"
"Maybe a ghost?" Dean said. "Or a curse. Or a serial killer. It could be anything, really."
"All we know is," said Sam. "Sometimes people die."
Jody’s face had gone from imminently-crushed, to unimpressed. "Sometimes people die," she repeated.
"Uh, yes."
"And it could be anything, is what you’re saying. Or, in fact, nothing but a string of coincidences."
"When you put it that way, it does sound very tenuous," Dean conceded.
"Yeah," she said. "Ok, look. I'm happy you boys are here. I am. It's good to see you're still, well, alive."
"Hey, you too," said Sam.
"And I appreciate the gravity of unexplained deaths. But you don't have a solid case, and I'm here as a single lady first and foremost. And I'm on vacation. For the first time in three years. I don't want any part in your possible murders case unless you actually need it. In fact, the whole thing sounds like a load of phooey if you ask me."
Dean opened his mouth but Sam stepped on his foot and said, "Ok, makes sense. We won't bother you."
Dean crossed his heart. "Yeah. No cockblocking, scout’s honor."
Jody patted his arm. "You boys are sweet. But I don't think you understand. Any guys see you talking to me? They won't come over."
Sam frowned. "Why not? We’re friendly."
She gave him a reproving look. "You're like, eight-foot-seven eye candy, so anyone looking at you would assume the only reason you're single is something dangerous. You either make it obvious you're not interested or you’re not going on that nature hike. You get me?"
"Wait, by act not interested, you mean-"
"We'll back off," Sam said.
"Now shoo," she said.
"Are these guys causing you trouble?"
Sam turned. Behind him, a guy in a server’s uniform who looked very familiar was replacing the coffee carafe. He had a towel slung over one shoulder and an apron.
Dean did a double take. "What the hell?"
"You’re a Ghostfacer," said Sam, blinking. "Ed, right?"
Ed froze as he recognized them. "Holy-"
"Whoa, long time no see," said Dean, and reached across the table to clamp a hand on Ed's shoulder, effectively holding him there. "What are you doing here?"
"Please. ‘Fred,’" he said, ducking away. He tapped his staff badge. "I work at this establishment. And it's my duty to protect its patrons, like this lady."
"All right, Fred," Dean said. "This lady here? Her name is Jody Mills. And she kicks ass. She can take care of herself, but I applaud your chivalry."
Jody smiled. "Ok, you two. All this posturing is very cute, but first of all, Fred, you seem very nice but the help is not needed. And Dean, don’t ever deprive me of a man slave."
"Sorry, ma'am," Ed said.
"So you work here?" Sam asked.
"I'm actually here undercover, on a case."
Dean raised an eyebrow. "Really?"
Ed smirked and adjusted his glasses. "Wow, someone's not on top of their game. Yearly, unexplained deaths? Small town locals? Dark woods and a hotel in the middle of the dark woods? Guess you didn’t get the memo. But don't worry, we're on it. Where there’s ghosts, there’s-"
"-Ghostfacers," Dean finished. "Yeah, your stupid song was stuck in my head for weeks."
"It was," Sam confirmed.
"And we’re going to crack this case," continued Dean. "So you two can just run along home."
"And it’s probably not even ghosts, just so you know," Sam told him.
Jody, who had been watching the whole exchange with raised eyebrows, said, "So how do you know each other?"
"They’re these kids from Texas," Sam said. "They've got a TV show and they hang out in haunted houses trying to film ghosts."
"They?"
"Yeah, Fred. Where’s your little partner?"
"You'll probably see him around. Or wait- you won't, because he's in disguise. And you'll probably be too busy hitting on women to see the bigger picture. Also I’m not that young, I’m in my late twenties."
"Well, I’ll leave you boys to it," Jody said, glancing over her shoulder. "They’re getting the groups together for morning activity."
"It was a pleasure meeting you, ma’am," said Ed. He picked up an empty milk pitcher, then nodded. "Sam, Dean, I'll see you never. Forget this conversation ever happened." He faded into the crowd.
"Good grief," said Dean. "Ghostfacers. Looks like this case got a lot less legit."
"Or more," Sam said as they walked to join the group.
Once the guides had handed out packed lunches, the fifty or so hikers walked out the back door to the trailhead. A dude in a white vest and a Santa hat was walking around, getting people into smaller circles.
Sam recognized that face immediately. "Head's up, it's another one," he leaned in to tell Dean.
Harry Spangler approached them, his eyes widening in recognition.
"We said hey to your buddy Ed," Dean said as Harry reached them.
"What are you foolios doing here?"
"Ok..." he looked at Harry's name tag. "Larry. Quick version? There’s a case. And we’re going to solve it."
"Well, looks like you've got company, because that's what we're here for, too. Now if you’ll excuse me. I have a tour to run." He turned and shouted, "So, we’re going to do some introductions!"
Their group shuffled into a circle and people introduced themselves one by one. When it was his turn, Sam gave a small wave. "Well, my name is Sam. I, uh," he said, and drew a complete blank. After a second or two of trying to think of anything real-life appropriate, he finished with, "I like books," and turned to Dean.
Dean raised both of his eyebrows incredulously, then said, "I’m Dean," and sent a winning smile circlewards. "I work mostly with boats. Boat tours, boats in bottles, pirate ships. I love the sun and the sea. You know, really I’m a seaman at heart. I admit I have a weakness for a good sense of humor, and a nice smile will always catch my eye."
Jody, ten people away and not looking at them, introduced herself as, "Jody. I’m a people person. I like politics and believe in small government. I value honesty, strength of character, and good home cooking."
"And I’m Larry," Harry finished. "I’ll be your tour guide for today. I’m here to point out some of the flora and fauna of the area and to introduce you to the eerie legends surrounding these scenic landscapes. This forest has eyes, as they say. Now, to begin, up ahead you’ll see some trees-"
"‘I like books,’" Dean mimicked as they began to slowly walk down the white trail. "And that’s a direct quote."
"Shut up."
"No one is going to go for a dude who had only that to say for himself."
"I froze," Sam said. "And I don’t care if anyone’s interested in me."
"You really don’t have a sexually active bone in your body, do you?" Dean asked. "Oh wait, I’ve heard you in the shower."
"Oh, so you listen?" said Sam.
Dean rolled his eyes. And as if the universe were continuously conspiring to prove Dean wrong - and as Sam had witnessed, it often did - a woman caught up with them and fell into step next to Sam.
"Hey there, Sam," she said. "I’m Terri. I saw you in the sunroom this morning pouring out two cups of coffee and I thought, well there’s a guy who looks like he’d make good conversation. And then you said you liked books."
"Hi, Terri," said Sam. "I do like books."
Sam smirked over her head at Dean, and then proceeded to have an interesting discussion about Melville.
They walked for a quarter of an hour. The air was brisk and Sam felt fully awake, fingers cold and breath visible in front of him. Now and then he looked over to see Dean in serious conversation with a bald dude. Dean laughed, which made Sam smile to himself. Maybe this trip was good for them both.
Although Harry was still spewing off dubious facts as they hiked, Sam had to admit, the guy was good at playing the part. No one questioned his legitimacy, except for the guy Dean was talking to, who grumbled mutinously under his breath, "All this is is a bunch of snow-covered Christmas trees. Where's the mountain lions?"
"Amen," Dean said. "Nature is often disappointing and boring."
Probably as Dean had intended, this reached the front of the group. Harry turned to look at him.
"Excuse you, sir," he said. "That is blatantly untrue. Nature is a frightening and badass place, steeped in history." He waved widely off the path and said, "For instance, I’d like to call your attention to that big ugly tree over there. It is said to be cursed. Beware of crossing over the exposed roots if you do not wish to die an earthy death. And please now direct your attention to the right, to that one over there, the one with the hole in it- That tree once provided shade for George Washington himself, first president of this fine nation."
"Ok," the man said, perking up. "That is interesting. And what kind of tree is the one we’re passing?"
"Uh, a-" Harry paused, obviously searching for a name. "A spruce tree. Yeah."
"Oh! Right! I thought spruce were deciduous," he said. "Hm, guess I was wrong."
Over to the left, came a violent rustling noise.
"What was that?" someone shouted.
"Larry!" a man said.
Harry turned. "What was what?"
Another woman pointed. "Something. In the trees over there."
"Calm down, everyone," Harry said. "The wind often blows through this forest."
There came another rustling and Harry looked wildly around into the trees.
"Is it a wolf?" a man asked. "Are there wolves?"
"Anything that might be in this woods will have been scared off by the infernal racket of this group," said Dean’s friend.
"He’s right," Jody said. "No animal, no matter how big, would attack a group this large, and we’re just out of sight of the hotel. Everything is fine, people."
Sam caught her eye and she nodded.
The group kept on walking, but there was an unsettled quality to the conversation. People stuck close together and whispered in low voices. Group panic was catching, Sam knew, and forests made noise, be it wind or birds or falling branches.
It was obviously nothing. But three minutes later, Sam caught the shape of an unmistakable something out of the corner of his eye. He stopped Dean with a hand on the chest.
"Dude," Dean said.
Tipping his head, Sam looked around. "I think there is something out there."
Dean stopped completely in his tracks. The rest of the people behind them shuffled past so that he and Sam were at the back of the group.
Dean scanned the trees. "Is it a monster of some sort? How does a monster fit into the picture?"
"I don’t know. But I definitely saw a shape. And it looked big."
Sam didn’t want to pull a gun in front of people but he had his hand hovering at the back of his pants, ready to pull it out if need be.
There was a violent crash from the forest and five people screamed. A flash of some large dark thing was visible before it was gone again.
Dean took off into the woods.
"Everyone stay together and stay on the path!" Sam said to the group, and ran after him.
Ran slowly after him, because there was a lot of snow, and also the ground was at an incline that was imperceptible to the human eye but definitely there.
When he reached where Dean had stopped, Sam slowed to a quiet walk. He felt for his gun again, watching as Dean crept around two close-grown trees, both of them just out of sight of the group.
A soft swoosh of something moving through the snow was the only warning they got before a shape - gigantic, monstrous - jumped from behind the rock-
And leapt straight by them.
They watched, breathing out a sigh of relief as the animal disappeared.
Dean roared back to the group, "It's all fine. Everybody calm your shit."
"It was an elk," Sam yelled. "Don’t worry, it’s all safe."
They tramped out of the trees again, Sam somewhat embarrassed. "Sorry," he said. "Sorry, overreaction, it’s all good."
Harry took over, thankfully. "Yes, we have now encountered a very large elk. Who knew they were so frightening? Do not anger them."
"So much for blending in," Dean muttered as the group moved on.
Many people approached them on the walk back. As the fifth man came and shook Sam's hand to congratulate him on his bravery, they rounded the curve of the path that would bring them into sight of the hotel.
"We did good, team," Harry said, and everyone clapped. The danger had espoused a general feeling of camaraderie, and there were even a few couples holding hands now as they approached the hotel from the woods.
A wailing became audible.
"Is that a siren?" someone asked.
It was, they realized moments later, and it belonged to the ambulance that was parked in front of the main doors.
Part 2
Pairing: Sam/Dean
Rating: PG
Words: 14,000
Summary: As the purpose of this weekend is to get to know one another, please wear your name tag at all times. Sam and Dean end up at a single's retreat in the mountains and run into old friends.
A/N: This fic is for sowell for spn-j2-xmas, and is set at some non-specific time within the last few seasons. It is fantastically late, sorry about that. I hope you’ve had a really nice holiday season and that this fic makes you smile. Thanks go to oddishly for reading it over, and bertee for running the comm so awesomely and suffering late posting (I LOVE YOU) Inspiration for the hotel in this fic is from this blurry little picture, and girlguidejones gave me the idea for things that glow! Merry Christmas and Happy New Year!
Dean didn’t take the right turn at the fork, and there was no place to turn around on the mountain road.
"Quit your bitching," he said when Sam spent the next three minutes sullenly watching the trees fly by.
Sam tried for all the world to act like he was not invested in this, saying, "I’m not. I have a book," but his ass was sore from too much sitting, and Dean had drained the last water bottle half an hour ago. The thought of water made him more thirsty, so he conceded and said, "It’ll be ok. Just seriously, turn around when you can."
They were trying to reach Maple Mountain Lodge, which the website described as a small slice of heaven snuggled away into the mountains.
"Bet there are rabid squirrels," Dean said as they finally pulled around onto the correct road, narrow and with snow plowed up against the sides. "Or mountain lions. Every place has its downside. Sure the pictures looked good, but nothing can be that gorgeou- holy smokes."
Sam looked up out the dash. The place was - he would never say this out loud - adorable, a stone building with rounded towers and high windows. It was evening now, so the last rays of sun were shining off the polished red cobblestone drive, and the hotel looked sleepy, smoke curling out of its many chimneys.
"Beats Rufus’s cabin, that’s for sure," Dean said.
"I don’t know. Rufus’s cabin has that basement. There sure are a lot of people here," Sam said as they circled around to the large side parking lot. It was mostly filled with non-mountainy cars.
"Place like this though? So close to Christmas, there are bound to be a ton of couples on a mountain getaway." He gave Sam a dirty grin.
Sam unstrapped and got out of the car, looking up at the cheery glow coming from each hotel window. Floodlights lit up the outside walls, today’s snow shoveled neatly into the flower beds.
"Now this doesn’t look too bad," Dean said, handing him his bag. "Actually, it’s downright welcoming. It’s been a long time since we’ve found a place this nice that had a string of unexplained deaths attached to it."
"Let’s hope it’s just nothing," Sam said.
Because it could be nothing. Two pages in Dad's journal glued together with monster goo had come unstuck last week, revealing an account dated winter '93. Some untimely had deaths at one Maple Mountain Lodge, victims becoming violently ill and then dying within thirty-six hours.
Now, it was a week till Christmas, and although the account wasn't much to go on, here they were in Vermont.
Dean kicked at a pile of snow. "Let's go in, I’m freezing my balls off."
"Charming."
"Aw, Sammy, it’s almost Christmas. Where's your holiday spirit?"
"Shut up. You don't even care about that stuff."
Dean shrugged. "But it’s a hell of a good reason for a vacation. Come on, a little R&R will do you good."
Large front doors, hung with piney wreaths, swung open with some effort onto a lobby with a giant front desk and a lounge area off to one side. A long window provided a view of a snowy peak.
The desk guy was wearing a gold-plated name tag that announced him as Blake, and he gave them a cheerful once-over. Sam knew that he should be suspicious - not every efficient hotel staff was Mercury, god of bellhoppery, but some certainly had been - but this guy seemed immediately nice.
Blake clacked away at the computer. "Names, please?"
"Francis," Dean said. "And Schmidt."
"Great." He took the card information on a recent Visa. "Now," he said. "They start setting out breakfast at 8:30, and you won’t want to miss the orientation at 9."
Sam looked around then leaned in fractionally. "Sorry. Orientation?"
Blake’s smile didn’t falter. "Yes. Not everyone looks good that early in the morning, but it looks like you won't have a problem wowing the rest of the group."
"Uh," Sam said.
"Group?" Dean cut in. Which did throw the guy a bit.
"Kris Kringle’s Single’s Mingle," Blake said. "You are here for the single’s event, aren’t you?"
"Single's event?"
"The whole hotel’s been reserved." Blake gave them an apologetic look. "Single minglers only, I'm afraid."
Dean laughed and slapped the desk. "Oh, that group. You know, I totally thought you meant some AA meeting the way you said it. Yeah, we are totally up here for that event."
"Although it’s our first time," Sam said. "Is there anything you can tell us? Any advice for us newbies?"
"Oh, great!" said Blake. "Well as you know, the event is held every year. It’s very festive and low-stress, with get-to-know-you activities and a dance. And this building’s over two hundred years old and very secluded. You’ll never find a more romantic location. Everyone deserves some happiness over the holidays, don’t you think?"
Dean laughed, extra loud. "Ha, yeah, so the building’s old, you say? It defiitely looks like it’s seen a lot. Lots of history here. Ghosts of Christmas past, even. Dark, possibly murderous ghosts?"
"Uh, what?" Blake said gamely, shooting a smile at Sam.
Dean grinned back. "Never seen any of that here?"
"No, can’t say that I have," Blake said.
"Oh. Any...cursed artifacts? That, when handled, yield disastrous results?"
"Nope." Blake was beginning to look more bemused.
"Ok, tell me this, Blake," Dean said, sending a significant look Sam's way. "How many of these events have you worked?"
"Well, I work here over Christmas break. For the past four years, I think? My folks live in the town just down the mountain. But I've never attended the actual event. Not because I'm not single. Because I am," he smiled at Sam, "Single. So you are too, I'm assuming?"
"Uh, yeah," said Sam. It's not like he had to lie about it.
Dean shifted and the single's mingle bag crushed in his hand. Everyone looked at it.
"Great!" Blake said. "Well then, I have your room card right here. Room 207, through that door and up the stone stairs on the right. Watch out, this building’s old and you should hold onto the railing." He passed the key over the counter. "Enjoy your night."
The room had two squashy beds with worn, soft sheets, and a deer head nailed over each one that looked downright ominous. Sam slept like the dead and, the next morning, woke to the sound of icicles dripping off the roof onto their windowsill.
He dropped a pillow on Dean’s face on his way to the bathroom. Dean snorted and raised up on one elbow to squint at him, before collapsing back into the warm cocoon of his bed. He always slept heavily when it was snowing outside, and this way he would be awake when Sam got out of the shower.
Sam emerged ten minutes later, got dressed, and then sat at the edge of the one chair to lace up his boots.
Dean swung his legs out from under the covers and looked sleepily at Sam. "You in a hurry to meet some sad, single folk? On our romantic holiday weekend?"
"Shut up, we don’t want to stick out by being late," Sam said tying the laces of one boot into a tight bow. "Undercover 101, keep up."
"How did we end up at a weekend getaway?" Dean wondered. "Just, how? They’re probably gonna notice if we start poking around, like we’re acting weird."
"That’s why we don’t act weird," said Sam. "Come on. Get up, I’m hungry."
Dean took just as long primping as he always did, but when he came out of the bathroom, he was clean-shaven and smelled like something Sam wasn’t familiar with.
Sam smirked. "You dress up for this?"
"Well maybe I did," Dean said.
"Huh."
Dean rolled his eyes and grabbed his jacket. "Maybe I’ll meet some chicks while I’m saving everyone’s asses."
"I'm pretty sure women won't want to hang around if something really is causing gross, protracted deaths," Sam pointed out, but it was true, Dean smelled good, so he walked close behind him.
Ribbons wound around the railing as they headed down the spiral staircase. There was a faint chill to the air, and Sam caught glimpses of a snowy landscape out each small turret window as they passed. A woman in Princess Leia buns was in the lobby, shuffling papers at the front desk. She gave them a big smile when they passed.
"Enjoy complimentary breakfast and orientation," she said. "It'll be off to the sunroom on the left."
The sunroom was long and bright, running the side of the hotel. It was packed full of a couple hundred people, all chatting in groups. Mistletoe clung to each corner and in each doorway, and a huge bow was stuck to the ceiling with little bells dangling down. French doors opened out onto a wide terrace and, beyond that, a forest of snowy trees.
"Whoa," Sam said.
"This place looks like the inside of a present." Dean moved closer to Sam to let two women with paper coffee cups pass them by and Sam caught another hint of Dean’s cologne. "With a whole load of single people," he said. "Poor shmucks."
Sam snorted. "Dean, we’re single people."
"Yeah, I know," said Dean. "But not like that."
"Like how, then?"
Dean gave him an unreadable look, and then his gaze traveled past Sam’s shoulder and he stood up a little straighter.
"Hello, you two," a woman’s voice said. When Sam turned, he saw that the woman was wearing a Santa hat over her strawberry blonde hair.
Sam could hear the leer when Dean said. "Well, hello to you, too."
She extended a hand. "I’m Cammy. My wife Trish and I run the event every year."
"I’m Sam," Sam said as he shook her hand. "And this is Dean. We’re really excited about this weekend."
"Well, make yourself at home. There’s a station over there with the printed schedule and supplies to make name tags. As the purpose of this weekend is to get to know one another, please wear your name tag at all times."
Dean watched her go, a little mournfully, Sam thought.
"Strike one," Sam said.
Dean ignored him. "So what's the plan, exactly?"
"I'm not sure. Fit in and look out for signs of the illness? Ask questions about past deaths? Or, you know, if anyone drops dead suddenly, that'll be a good indicator as well."
"Thank you, Captain Obvious."
Dean did Sam’s name in pink, the lettering in curly cues, and shrugged when Sam put the name tag on his shirtfront anyway. Then, the bell rang, and they followed the crowd as everyone filed into a dark room with rows of chairs and a podium at the front.
Once everyone was seated, a woman stepped up to the mic. She leaned in and said, "Welcome, welcome, to the Kris Kringle Single’s Mingle, the singles event for the very open-minded."
"What the hell does that mean?" Dean whispered.
"My name is Trish, and I'm here to welcome all single newbies in the crowd. And of course, hello again to returning participants! We know this weekend is a fun time for everyone, but we sincerely hope you won’t have to come a third time."
There was a smattering of chuckles and the man next to Sam shook his head sadly.
"We hope that you'll take every opportunity to talk to other participants. After all, we're all here to meet new people and form meaningful attachments. Today’s schedule includes a nature hike and picnic lunch in this hotel’s big backyard, Vermont’s beautiful Green Mountains. You may also choose to stay in for a lunch of conversation and fine food. This afternoon brings us an hour-long round of speed dating. And tonight’s themed party is Holiday Balls and Belles, where you come decked out in your tantalizing tinsel."
"Tomorrow’s a full day of activities, but we'll reveal that later! If anyone's tried online dating-" Again, the chuckle that swept through the room. "Well then, you've all taken fun, extensive questionnaires, plumbing the depths of your desires and personality preferences.
"Here, we have something similar, what we call Dream Quizzes. What do you dream of in a relationship? What does your dream guy or gal look like on paper? We'll use these tests to place you in groups during our speed dating rounds to improve your chances of finding a match, or multiple matches. And at the end of this weekend, we’ll give you the results and a list of who you’re most compatible with. After that, it's up to you!"
"Dude," Dean muttered as the lights came back on and the buzz of conversation resumed. "Remember you used to take these at the library when you were fifteen?"
"Shut up, those were personality tests," said Sam, and passed down the pile of quizzes. "These tests use algorithms that are constantly being improved upon by user experience. Chances are, the results of these tests will actually show you who you'd be good with."
Sam handed Dean a pen and then looked down at the paper in front of him. After writing "Sam Schmidt," his age, and his star sign, he started in on the questions:
How would you describe your hobbies?
a. Arts, Crafts, & Bricolage
b. Outdoors & Trips to REI
c. Reading, Writing, & Photography
d. Culinary & Foodie
Well, that was easy. He put a slash through B and moved on to the next question.
Which option most closely matches your morning toilette?
a. Up at the crack of dawn and ready to start my day.
b. Careful hair coiffing and brush my teeth for a full two minutes.
c. Slow & surly starter. I'd love for someone to put the coffee pot on for me.
d. Shower twice a week & out the door in five minutes.
B, definitely B.
There were a bunch of obvious questions and then some that Sam would never answer under normal circumstances. But since the tests would be confidential, he made honest choices, angling his test away when Dean tried to sneak a look.
Which do you look for in your soulmate?
a. They bring me breakfast
b. They love their job
c. They get along with my parents
d. They offer to drive
Sam thought about that for a full minute before he skipped it. He'd come back to it later. He glanced over at Dean's and saw that under How would you describe your past relationship style? Dean had chosen Love em and leave em. Sam rolled his eyes.
When he was on the second to last of the questions - How experimental were you in college? - Trish spoke into the mic.
"Take all the time you need, but when you're done, pass them to the left."
Sam circled the last two points and passed his paper down. He wanted to double-check his answers but reminded himself that the results didn't actually matter, he wasn’t here hoping to find out who he should spend the rest of his life with.
"Well, looks like that’s it," said Trish. "Now go on out there and have some breakfast. Get ready for the nature hike or relax until lunch. You’re single, so you best be prepared to mingle. Any questions can be directed to the people wearing the Santa hats."
As the crowd stood and made their way out the double doors back into the sunroom, Dean leaned in to say, "This is so weird. But cool. Strangely cool. Oh look," He pointed. "Free food."
The long tables were now loaded buffet-style with eggs and avocado slices and toast. Dean split off in that direction as Sam made a beeline for the drinks table. He got himself and Dean cups of coffee just as Blake the hotel guy came to put a basket of muffins on the table next to the sugar.
His eyes squinted up in a smile when he saw Sam. "Oh, hi again."
Sam gave him a wave. "Hey."
Blake’s eyes traveled down to Sam’s chest. "Nice nametag. Are you an artist or something?"
"Thanks, uh," Sam nodded across the room at Dean. "He made it for me."
"Right, right. You having a good time yet?"
"You know, I’m looking forward to the hike." As he said it, Sam realized it was true. The atmosphere here was really low-stress, and if this whole possible case ended up being a false alarm, he thought maybe they could spend the rest of the weekend just hanging out. "How is it?"
Blake grinned. "It’s more a half hour walk on a very well-maintained path. But it’s beautiful." He took in Sam’s very no-nonsense boots. "You like snow?"
Sam shrugged. "Not especially."
Blake smiled big again. "Oh well, maybe you'll like the muffins."
Sam took one and bit into it. It broke apart easily to reveal it was still warm from the oven.
"Oh my god," he said through the mouthful. "Did you make these?"
Blake laughed. "You think I can bake? I'm in a doctoral program, man. I’ve lived on ramen and alcohol for the past four years. No, the servers made them special, though, so I’ll pass the sentiment along."
As Blake walked away, a woman stepped up to take his place at the table. She had short, dark hair and took a muffin with a purpose.
Sam paused before he realized that yes, it actually was who it looked like. "Jody?"
Jody turned. "Oh, hey!" She looked as surprised as Sam was, but her smile was somewhat strained. "What are you doing here? At this expensive weekend in the middle of nowhere?"
"It’s good to see you, too." Sam took in her jeans and sweater. "You look...wow, you look great. I’m guessing you’re attending the event?"
Jody looked down at herself like she was seeing her civilian clothes for the first time.
"Not in your cop getup," Sam clarified.
"Shh, I’m keeping that on the down low."
"You mean, keeping it on the 10-94?" Dean asked, coming up behind them. "Hi, Jody."
"As I am not a cop, I have no idea what that means," Jody said with a wink. "But FYI? You just used the police code for drag racing."
"Oh, that’s why I know it," Dean said.
"No really, boys. What’s going on? I highly doubt you came here to meet someone."
"Why not?"
She gave them a look that encompassed everything about them as people. Sam had to agree.
"We’re on a case," he said.
Dean continued, "Our dad kept records of every big bad he hunted, a journal. He wrote about some unexplained deaths at this hotel around Christmas twenty years ago."
"Ok," said Jody. "What does that have to do with nowadays? And with a bunch of people looking for their soulmates?"
"We don't know what the connection is, but it's been happening every year, seeming illnesses that crop up out of nowhere."
"What do you think it is?"
"Maybe a ghost?" Dean said. "Or a curse. Or a serial killer. It could be anything, really."
"All we know is," said Sam. "Sometimes people die."
Jody’s face had gone from imminently-crushed, to unimpressed. "Sometimes people die," she repeated.
"Uh, yes."
"And it could be anything, is what you’re saying. Or, in fact, nothing but a string of coincidences."
"When you put it that way, it does sound very tenuous," Dean conceded.
"Yeah," she said. "Ok, look. I'm happy you boys are here. I am. It's good to see you're still, well, alive."
"Hey, you too," said Sam.
"And I appreciate the gravity of unexplained deaths. But you don't have a solid case, and I'm here as a single lady first and foremost. And I'm on vacation. For the first time in three years. I don't want any part in your possible murders case unless you actually need it. In fact, the whole thing sounds like a load of phooey if you ask me."
Dean opened his mouth but Sam stepped on his foot and said, "Ok, makes sense. We won't bother you."
Dean crossed his heart. "Yeah. No cockblocking, scout’s honor."
Jody patted his arm. "You boys are sweet. But I don't think you understand. Any guys see you talking to me? They won't come over."
Sam frowned. "Why not? We’re friendly."
She gave him a reproving look. "You're like, eight-foot-seven eye candy, so anyone looking at you would assume the only reason you're single is something dangerous. You either make it obvious you're not interested or you’re not going on that nature hike. You get me?"
"Wait, by act not interested, you mean-"
"We'll back off," Sam said.
"Now shoo," she said.
"Are these guys causing you trouble?"
Sam turned. Behind him, a guy in a server’s uniform who looked very familiar was replacing the coffee carafe. He had a towel slung over one shoulder and an apron.
Dean did a double take. "What the hell?"
"You’re a Ghostfacer," said Sam, blinking. "Ed, right?"
Ed froze as he recognized them. "Holy-"
"Whoa, long time no see," said Dean, and reached across the table to clamp a hand on Ed's shoulder, effectively holding him there. "What are you doing here?"
"Please. ‘Fred,’" he said, ducking away. He tapped his staff badge. "I work at this establishment. And it's my duty to protect its patrons, like this lady."
"All right, Fred," Dean said. "This lady here? Her name is Jody Mills. And she kicks ass. She can take care of herself, but I applaud your chivalry."
Jody smiled. "Ok, you two. All this posturing is very cute, but first of all, Fred, you seem very nice but the help is not needed. And Dean, don’t ever deprive me of a man slave."
"Sorry, ma'am," Ed said.
"So you work here?" Sam asked.
"I'm actually here undercover, on a case."
Dean raised an eyebrow. "Really?"
Ed smirked and adjusted his glasses. "Wow, someone's not on top of their game. Yearly, unexplained deaths? Small town locals? Dark woods and a hotel in the middle of the dark woods? Guess you didn’t get the memo. But don't worry, we're on it. Where there’s ghosts, there’s-"
"-Ghostfacers," Dean finished. "Yeah, your stupid song was stuck in my head for weeks."
"It was," Sam confirmed.
"And we’re going to crack this case," continued Dean. "So you two can just run along home."
"And it’s probably not even ghosts, just so you know," Sam told him.
Jody, who had been watching the whole exchange with raised eyebrows, said, "So how do you know each other?"
"They’re these kids from Texas," Sam said. "They've got a TV show and they hang out in haunted houses trying to film ghosts."
"They?"
"Yeah, Fred. Where’s your little partner?"
"You'll probably see him around. Or wait- you won't, because he's in disguise. And you'll probably be too busy hitting on women to see the bigger picture. Also I’m not that young, I’m in my late twenties."
"Well, I’ll leave you boys to it," Jody said, glancing over her shoulder. "They’re getting the groups together for morning activity."
"It was a pleasure meeting you, ma’am," said Ed. He picked up an empty milk pitcher, then nodded. "Sam, Dean, I'll see you never. Forget this conversation ever happened." He faded into the crowd.
"Good grief," said Dean. "Ghostfacers. Looks like this case got a lot less legit."
"Or more," Sam said as they walked to join the group.
Once the guides had handed out packed lunches, the fifty or so hikers walked out the back door to the trailhead. A dude in a white vest and a Santa hat was walking around, getting people into smaller circles.
Sam recognized that face immediately. "Head's up, it's another one," he leaned in to tell Dean.
Harry Spangler approached them, his eyes widening in recognition.
"We said hey to your buddy Ed," Dean said as Harry reached them.
"What are you foolios doing here?"
"Ok..." he looked at Harry's name tag. "Larry. Quick version? There’s a case. And we’re going to solve it."
"Well, looks like you've got company, because that's what we're here for, too. Now if you’ll excuse me. I have a tour to run." He turned and shouted, "So, we’re going to do some introductions!"
Their group shuffled into a circle and people introduced themselves one by one. When it was his turn, Sam gave a small wave. "Well, my name is Sam. I, uh," he said, and drew a complete blank. After a second or two of trying to think of anything real-life appropriate, he finished with, "I like books," and turned to Dean.
Dean raised both of his eyebrows incredulously, then said, "I’m Dean," and sent a winning smile circlewards. "I work mostly with boats. Boat tours, boats in bottles, pirate ships. I love the sun and the sea. You know, really I’m a seaman at heart. I admit I have a weakness for a good sense of humor, and a nice smile will always catch my eye."
Jody, ten people away and not looking at them, introduced herself as, "Jody. I’m a people person. I like politics and believe in small government. I value honesty, strength of character, and good home cooking."
"And I’m Larry," Harry finished. "I’ll be your tour guide for today. I’m here to point out some of the flora and fauna of the area and to introduce you to the eerie legends surrounding these scenic landscapes. This forest has eyes, as they say. Now, to begin, up ahead you’ll see some trees-"
"‘I like books,’" Dean mimicked as they began to slowly walk down the white trail. "And that’s a direct quote."
"Shut up."
"No one is going to go for a dude who had only that to say for himself."
"I froze," Sam said. "And I don’t care if anyone’s interested in me."
"You really don’t have a sexually active bone in your body, do you?" Dean asked. "Oh wait, I’ve heard you in the shower."
"Oh, so you listen?" said Sam.
Dean rolled his eyes. And as if the universe were continuously conspiring to prove Dean wrong - and as Sam had witnessed, it often did - a woman caught up with them and fell into step next to Sam.
"Hey there, Sam," she said. "I’m Terri. I saw you in the sunroom this morning pouring out two cups of coffee and I thought, well there’s a guy who looks like he’d make good conversation. And then you said you liked books."
"Hi, Terri," said Sam. "I do like books."
Sam smirked over her head at Dean, and then proceeded to have an interesting discussion about Melville.
They walked for a quarter of an hour. The air was brisk and Sam felt fully awake, fingers cold and breath visible in front of him. Now and then he looked over to see Dean in serious conversation with a bald dude. Dean laughed, which made Sam smile to himself. Maybe this trip was good for them both.
Although Harry was still spewing off dubious facts as they hiked, Sam had to admit, the guy was good at playing the part. No one questioned his legitimacy, except for the guy Dean was talking to, who grumbled mutinously under his breath, "All this is is a bunch of snow-covered Christmas trees. Where's the mountain lions?"
"Amen," Dean said. "Nature is often disappointing and boring."
Probably as Dean had intended, this reached the front of the group. Harry turned to look at him.
"Excuse you, sir," he said. "That is blatantly untrue. Nature is a frightening and badass place, steeped in history." He waved widely off the path and said, "For instance, I’d like to call your attention to that big ugly tree over there. It is said to be cursed. Beware of crossing over the exposed roots if you do not wish to die an earthy death. And please now direct your attention to the right, to that one over there, the one with the hole in it- That tree once provided shade for George Washington himself, first president of this fine nation."
"Ok," the man said, perking up. "That is interesting. And what kind of tree is the one we’re passing?"
"Uh, a-" Harry paused, obviously searching for a name. "A spruce tree. Yeah."
"Oh! Right! I thought spruce were deciduous," he said. "Hm, guess I was wrong."
Over to the left, came a violent rustling noise.
"What was that?" someone shouted.
"Larry!" a man said.
Harry turned. "What was what?"
Another woman pointed. "Something. In the trees over there."
"Calm down, everyone," Harry said. "The wind often blows through this forest."
There came another rustling and Harry looked wildly around into the trees.
"Is it a wolf?" a man asked. "Are there wolves?"
"Anything that might be in this woods will have been scared off by the infernal racket of this group," said Dean’s friend.
"He’s right," Jody said. "No animal, no matter how big, would attack a group this large, and we’re just out of sight of the hotel. Everything is fine, people."
Sam caught her eye and she nodded.
The group kept on walking, but there was an unsettled quality to the conversation. People stuck close together and whispered in low voices. Group panic was catching, Sam knew, and forests made noise, be it wind or birds or falling branches.
It was obviously nothing. But three minutes later, Sam caught the shape of an unmistakable something out of the corner of his eye. He stopped Dean with a hand on the chest.
"Dude," Dean said.
Tipping his head, Sam looked around. "I think there is something out there."
Dean stopped completely in his tracks. The rest of the people behind them shuffled past so that he and Sam were at the back of the group.
Dean scanned the trees. "Is it a monster of some sort? How does a monster fit into the picture?"
"I don’t know. But I definitely saw a shape. And it looked big."
Sam didn’t want to pull a gun in front of people but he had his hand hovering at the back of his pants, ready to pull it out if need be.
There was a violent crash from the forest and five people screamed. A flash of some large dark thing was visible before it was gone again.
Dean took off into the woods.
"Everyone stay together and stay on the path!" Sam said to the group, and ran after him.
Ran slowly after him, because there was a lot of snow, and also the ground was at an incline that was imperceptible to the human eye but definitely there.
When he reached where Dean had stopped, Sam slowed to a quiet walk. He felt for his gun again, watching as Dean crept around two close-grown trees, both of them just out of sight of the group.
A soft swoosh of something moving through the snow was the only warning they got before a shape - gigantic, monstrous - jumped from behind the rock-
And leapt straight by them.
They watched, breathing out a sigh of relief as the animal disappeared.
Dean roared back to the group, "It's all fine. Everybody calm your shit."
"It was an elk," Sam yelled. "Don’t worry, it’s all safe."
They tramped out of the trees again, Sam somewhat embarrassed. "Sorry," he said. "Sorry, overreaction, it’s all good."
Harry took over, thankfully. "Yes, we have now encountered a very large elk. Who knew they were so frightening? Do not anger them."
"So much for blending in," Dean muttered as the group moved on.
Many people approached them on the walk back. As the fifth man came and shook Sam's hand to congratulate him on his bravery, they rounded the curve of the path that would bring them into sight of the hotel.
"We did good, team," Harry said, and everyone clapped. The danger had espoused a general feeling of camaraderie, and there were even a few couples holding hands now as they approached the hotel from the woods.
A wailing became audible.
"Is that a siren?" someone asked.
It was, they realized moments later, and it belonged to the ambulance that was parked in front of the main doors.
Part 2