SPN: The Brothers Grimm - Chapter 7
Title:The Brothers Grimm
Beta: skylar_matthews
Fandom: Supernatural
Rating: PG-13
Genre: AU, Brothers Grimm verse, Fusion, adventure, horror
Pairings: Dean/Cas, mentions of Dean/Cassie, suggested Dean/Lisa
Spoilers: Some for The Brothers Grimm
Warnings: some sexual situations, violence, abuse of the French language, lots of UST
Word Count: 26 000 (in total)
Summary: Under the new French occupation, Dean and Sam Grimm have made a living conning people into believing that fairytales and monsters are real. But when they stumble upon the village of Marbaden, everything that they thought they knew gets turned upside down and instead of creating fairytales, they find themselves living in one.
A/N: Written as part of the dc-everafter Challenge. This is loosely based on the film The Brothers Grimm starring Matt Damon and Heath Ledger. Some significant changes have been made compared to the film but there will still be plot spoilers for those who have yet to watch The Brothers Grimm.
Special thanks to my lovely beta reader, skylar_matthews, and to talli_approved for creating the challenge. This was an awesome excuse to fuse the SPN universe with one of my favorite films and I had a great time writing this! Lastly, I want to thank h4ppy-fun-b4ll for creating beautiful artwork to accompany my fic. It was fun working with you, darling! <3
Prologue | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | Epilogue | Art Masterpost
The full moon hung low in the early evening sky, casting a dull glow over the tombs as Gabriel carefully opened all of them. He pulled the small vial from deep within his cloaks, eyes lifting up to gaze at the old tower looming overhead.
His eyes fell on a black crow, its head tilted as it stared at him with its cold, black eyes, perched on an overhanging branch of a dying tree.
“Soon,” Gabriel said. They had to wait for the eclipse to start before he drew the blood of the ten sacrifices.
It cawed and ascended into the sky, disappearing into the shadows.
*
Sometime earlier that evening…
It was as if Tessa had slipped into a deep sleep, a soft glow on her pale cheeks and the light rise and fall of her chest the only indication that she was still alive. When Sam and Dean had returned her to her home, they witnessed her father lay her down gently, eyes shining with unshed tears. The village was in an upheaval, the villagers too terrified to leave their homes after some had witnessed the deaths of the French soldiers in the enchanted woods. It seemed that neither Crowley nor any of his men had made it out alive.
As the sun dipped low on the horizon, Dean and Sam quickly gathered all that they would need to go after the witch. Truthfully, they knew little about what could stop a centuries old witch, other than breaking whatever spell granted her immortality. They did, however, have ways of protecting themselves.
“What’s this?” Dean asked, catching the small, bound leather bag Sam tossed to him.
“It’s a hex bag. The lore says it’ll prevent the wearer from coming under the witch’s influence.”
Dean tied it to his belt skeptically. “Does it even work?”
“Hopefully.”
So Dean wasn’t thrilled with those odds but what else did they have to go on?
“Take this.”
Dean handed the thin, silver letter opener to Sam. It had been one of the few valuable objects that their father had owned, the handle of blade engraved with the family name Grimm. It was also the only thing they owned that was authentically silver and could be used as a weapon.
“Just in case Gabriel gets too close. If you gotta use it, use it.”
“But Dean, what about you?”
“I’ll be fine. I can handle one, little were-wolf-man-dog-thing.”
Sam shook his head, trying to hide back his chuckle. “I think the word you’re looking for is skinwalker. Skinwalker’s can change at will, outside of the lunar cycle.”
“Yeah, well, whatever it is, don’t let it get you,” Dean said. “I know Cas wants to-anyway, we’re gonna try and save everyone but worst case scenario…”
“Yeah, I got it.”
They slipped into a familiar silence, Dean refilling his pistol and shoving it back into its holster. With darkness quickly approaching, he knew that they were running out of time. If they didn’t get there soon, it may be too late to save Cas.
“He’ll be okay, Dean,” Sam said, startling Dean. “We’ll get him back.”
It should have been more annoying that Sam could be that perspective. But instead, it just filled Dean with a dull sense of dread as his mind raced through the worst case scenarios.
“Damn right we will.”
But even to his own ears, Dean’s words held none of the false confidence he tried to convey.
*
“Dean, look!”
As they stumbled out into the glade, the tower looming high above them, a strange shadow began to slowly crawl in front of the full moon overhead, obstructing its pale glow in the night sky.
“An eclipse!”
Dean was about to retort something sarcastic about Sam’s knack for stating the obvious when we caught sight of a shadow leaning over one of the open tomb stones. As the shadow drew back, the glow from the moonlight fell on Castiel’s pale face, his body nestled peacefully in the tomb.
“Cas!”
Dean raced towards the tomb, pulling out his pistol. He took aim at Gabriel, who was standing over Castiel’s body and clutching a vial.
“You’re too late,” Gabriel said, grinning. “It’s already started.”
As Dean shot at Gabriel, the skinwalker dodged with inhuman speed and bound up the tower, clinging to a rope that led up to the tower’s only entrance. Dean cursed under his breath and knelt down near Castiel, trying to shake the sleeping man awake.
“Cas! Castiel! Come one! Snap out of it!”
Sam dropped down by Dean’s side. “It’s no use, Dean. It’s the same as Tessa: we’re gonna have to break the spell somehow.”
A few drops of blood trickled from an open cut on Castiel’s hand.
“I’m going up after the bitch,” Dean declared angrily.
But as he jumped back to his feet, the clicking of a pistol from behind stopped him dead in his tracks.
“I wouldn’t take another step if I were you,” a cold, deep voice announced. “Unless you fancy painting your mate’s grave with your blood.”
“Crowley.”
Dean turned around and glared at officer. Crowley was accompanied by two French soldiers, the three of them looking as if they had been mangled by vicious bears. One of the soldiers was shaking so much, he could barely hold his musket. But Crowley remained unperturbed and if looks could kill, the murderous glare he had directed at the Grimm brothers would have killed them five times over.
“How the hell you make it out of the forest?”
“See, here’s the thing: we still haven’t made it out of the FUCKING FOREST!” he bellowed, his pistol staying aimed at Dean’s head. “I was given one task and one task only: bring the bloody Grimm brothers’ heads back to General Alistair. But instead, I’ve been running around in circles chasing a fucking werewolf and being attacked by pissed off trees. So you’ll have to excuse me if I’m not in the most conversational mood right now.”
“It’s a skinwalker, not a werewolf,” Sam mumbled.
“Not the best time to be a smartass,” Dean muttered back.
“Will you two shut it!” Crowley snapped. “I don’t give a rat’s arse about witches, wolves, and whatever else is going on here. So let’s cut this short: either lead us out of this death trap, and then we’ll kill you, or you can both be difficult and we kill you now and take our chances getting back to Marbaden.”
“Gotta admit, not really liking those options. Whaddya think, Sammy?”
Dean’s pistol was still held at his side. He knew that if he was going to take a shot, he had to get it right the first time.
“I think we should-NOW!”
With quick reflexes, Dean shot the soldier standing to Crowley’s right in arm, startling the soldier and causing him to drop his musket. Dean jumped out of the way as Crowley shot at him, ducking into a roll. He heard another shot being fired and the other soldier cursing in French, indicating that Sam had hit his mark.
“You’ve got to stop it, Dean! I’ll take care of them!”
As Crowley advanced towards Sam, firing another shot, Sam dodged and with lightening quick speed, flung the silver letter opener. Crowley cried out as it hit his wrist and the pistol went flying. Dean was about to protest, not wanting to leave his brother behind, but the evening was growing darker as the eclipse persisted and he knew there was not much time left.
He jumped to his feet and raced to the tower, grabbing the rope and quickly starting his ascent. He forced himself to not look back at the chaos below as Sam struggled to distract the soldiers, knowing that the second he saw Sam in trouble, he would abandon his task and run to his brother’s side. As his muscles strained and he pulled his body further up the tower, he realized, with a bit of disgust, that the white rope he was clinging to was old, messily braided hair.
Must be the old hag’s hair…
He pushed the thought to the back of his mind, sweat trickling down his face. The moon was now almost completely blocked and there was still another two meters to go. He forced his tired arms to lift his body up closer, ignoring the aches and burns as he pulled and pulled. He thought of those children, of Cas, of everyone that was depending on him now. He thought of how he had spent his life chasing after invisible demons and conning innocent people of their hard earned money just so he wouldn’t have to waste his days making shit pay working in the fields or in the mines. This was his chance, here and now, to show everyone that he was more than just a silver-tongued con-artist.
He breathed heavily, his hand grasping at the window’s edge. With a final burst of adrenaline, he lifted his body up onto the window sill and tumbled into the room. He coughed and sputtered as his body hit the stone-tiled floor, a cloud of dust blurring his vision. As he gasped for air and waved away the dust, the sound of someone chanting in an old language echoed off the walls around him.
Dean stumbled up onto his feet, blinking back the dust in the dim glow of the candle light. As the dust settled and his eyes adjusted, his focus fell on the couple standing before a large mirror at the opposite end of the room. Gabriel, in his usual dark furs, gazed longingly into the empty sockets of an old, withered skeleton, whose bony hands had reached up to grasp his hands as he continued to chant in that language Dean did not recognize. But it wasn’t the loving way in which the skeleton regarded Gabriel that had Dean gaping; it was the image bouncing back from the mirror, revealing a young woman with sultry eyes and flowing locks of dark hair, that was slowly weaving its enchanting pull on the older Grimm.
Damn…was the woman gorgeous. She was easily the most beautiful woman Dean had ever laid eyes upon and it was that very beauty that made Dean take a step forward, wanting to be lost in the world reflected in the mirror.
An angry cawing over Dean’s shoulder made him jump and seemed to draw him back to reality. The crow startled Gabriel as well, who jerked his head in Dean’s direction. The woman in the mirror tossed Dean a venomous look, tugging at Gabriel’s wrist. In front of the mirror, the skeleton mimicked the action.
“Whoa, the years have not been kind to you!” Dean said, using his usual snarkiness to hide the small bubble of fear gurgling in the pit of his stomach.
“Stop him,” she hissed.
Gabriel grinned and advanced towards Dean.
*
“You don’t have to do this!” Sam reasoned, ducking behind a fallen tree trunk. “If we don’t stop her, none of us will be making it out of here alive!”
The rotten wood of the trunk exploded around him as one of the soldier’s shot at it with his musket. In the cloud of dust and bark, Sam hopped out of the way. But his foot came into contact with one of the tree’s roots and he fell to the ground.
Sam coughed out dust, groaning as pain shot through his knee. The mantra of swears he muttered under his breath was interrupted by the click of a pistol and cold metal being pressed against his temple.
“Piss off some old bitch in a tower or the most powerful empire in all of Europe?” Crowley mused. “Sorry, love, but I’ll take my chances with the witch.”
The two soldiers came up to stand on either side of Crowley, sneering down at Sam. Crowley turned to the one on his left, “Jean, ton pistolet.”
The soldier handed his pistol over to Crowley. Without any warning, Crowley flicked his wrists and fired a shot from each gun. The soldiers that had been standing beside him both fell to the ground.
Sam gaped up at Crowley. “But you-“
“Never could stand the bloody French.” Tossing away one of the pistols, Crowley offered his free hand to Sam. Sam, however, was still in shock and merely stared at the proffered hand. “Well? You just going to sit there looking pretty or you going to help save your brother’s boy toy?”
*
Dean’s pistol went flying out of his hands. Before he could pull out his sword, he was knocked onto his back with Gabriel leering down at him.
“Not how you thought you’d be going out, huh Dean-o?” he mocked.
Dean grunted as Gabriel kicked him in his side.
“The pouch,” the witch hissed.
Dean tried to crawl away but Gabriel was too quick. He tugged at the hex bag hanging from Dean’s belt, tearing the thread. Dean swore and cursed but as he stood to his feet, his gaze flickered over to the mirror at the other side of the room.
Like a moth drawn to a burning flame, it was then that Dean felt the full force of her pull. Every inch of him was filled with the desire to give himself over to her completely, to give her the world if only to please her. Unable to control his body, he approached the mirror, her inhumanly beautiful reflection smiling at him in a way that made his toes curl with a pleasure he had only known in the throes of heated passion. His fingers reached out, stroking the surface of the mirror over the image of the woman who now stood behind him and he ignored the scratching sensation of withered bone stroking his exposed collarbone in a loving gesture. In the reflection, all he saw was the soft flesh of a feminine hand, long fingers stretching out to trail lightly over his chest.
“So beautiful, my prince charming,” a voice rasped into his ear. But seeing the woman stretch up on her toes, full, plump lips lightly grazing his earlobe, Dean’s dick twitched when that honey sweet voice assaulted his ears. “Mirror, mirror on the wall, who is the fairest of them all?”
“You are, Mistress,” Dean whimpered, his erection pressing uncomfortably against the constraints of his trousers.
“Of course I am. No one in the land is more beautiful than I.”
Her other hand clutched a small vile filled with blood. “And once I have completed this spell, you and I can be together.”
Dean smiled goofily, the enchantment making him drunk off lust. He dumbly nodded as the woman in the mirror smirked, removing the cap off the vial and drawing it up to her lips-
“Dean, no!”
Dean’s eyes snapped up to upper left corner of the mirror, where he saw a tall man with shaggy brown hair panting and climbing through the windowsill. Something seemed very familiar about this man, tugging at Dean’s memory painfully.
But as the man came through the window, Gabriel cried out angrily. In the mirror, Dean saw him leap up at incredible speed, startling the intruder as both of them tumbled out of the window.
“…SAMMY!”
The sudden pain that ripped through Dean broke the trance that the witch had placed him under. He turned around, grabbed the skeletal witch and threw her as hard as he could into the mirror. The vial she was holding smashed to the floor and she gave a blood-curling hiss as her frail body came into contact with the mirror, shattering and crumbling into dust. The mirror cracked and shattered as well, in a rain of jagged edged bits of glass that cut at Dean’s skin.
But Dean tripped and stumbled through the shattering glass, his heart pounding heavily in his ears as he raced to the window.
“SAMMY!”
As his head shot out of the window, the sight that met him below made him choke on his own breath.
Sam was dangling some meters above the ground with the witch’s hair tied securely around his waist and a very startled and freaked out Gabriel clinging to him for dear life.
“Someone want to tell me what the fuck is going on?!” Gabriel demanded.
“The Grimm brothers prevented the destruction of the village by stopping the witch and the big bad wolf,” Crowley said, smirking up at Gabriel. He was leaning casually against one of the tombs, much to Dean’s surprise. “Oh, and spoiler alert: you’re the big, bad wolf.”
*
Once Dean’s feet were firmly planted on the ground, he didn’t bother asking why Crowley was suddenly on Team Grimm, or even how Gabriel was doing now that he was no longer under the witch’s spell. With the assurance that Sam was okay, Dean ran to Castiel’s tomb, the pale glow of the moon slowly crawling back into the evening sky as the eclipse was approaching its end.
Castiel still lay peacefully in his tomb, eyes closed as if in a deep sleep. His usually expressionless face was relaxed, lips curving in the hint of a small smile. As serene as he looked, Dean couldn’t help the sense of dread and the what ifs that crossed his mind, fearing that Castiel may never wake up.
“Cas? Hey, Cas? Can you hear me?”
He gently shook at his friend’s shoulders. And waited. And tried again.
Castiel didn’t move.
“Cas, come on. You gotta wake up.”
Still nothing.
What the hell? Hadn’t he done it right? He stopped the witch. Him and Gabriel were no longer under her enchantment so why wasn’t Cas waking up?
“I know this story, mate,” Crowley said, coming up beside Dean. He ignored the distrustful glare Dean tossed at him. “They say only true love’s kiss can break the spell…or some rubbish like that.”
“I ain’t kissing him,” Dean protested, annoyed that he could already feel his cheeks heating up.
“Dude, that’s not cool!” Gabriel shouted, from somewhere behind them. “I’m not letting my little bro get mouth raped by the wooly mammoth’s menstruating sidekick.”
Dean decided that whatever was between Castiel and him (not that there was anything…really…), it didn’t mean he had to like the guy’s dick of a brother. Only a few minutes after first being introduced to a Gabriel that wasn’t wolfing out and trying to kill him and Dean already hated the guy.
“If you ever want to see your sleeping beauty’s baby blues again, you’re gonna have to swallow your manly pride and snog your mate,” Crowley said again, with a solemnity that irked Dean.
“Oh for fuck’s-”
He didn’t even bother finishing his protest as he bent towards Castiel, his entire body shaking with nervousness. It was just one kiss, right? It didn’t mean anything. Castiel’s life was in danger and if Dean didn’t do this, his friend may never wake up again.
As Dean’s lips hovered mere millimeters from Castiel’s, so close they almost brushed, Dean took a small breath and let his eyes flutter closed. This was it. He was going to do it, Crowley’s snickering behind him be damned.
“Dean…what are you doing?” a quiet, gravelly voice whispered against Dean’s lips.
Dean’s eyes flew open. He was now being critically analyzed by a pair of questioning, deep blue eyes.
“Saving you,” he whispered back, his breath condensing against Castiel’s lips.
Awkward.
From just over Dean’s shoulder, Crowley was roaring with laughter.
“Oh.”
Even when Castiel gave his startled response, Dean still hadn’t moved. He was still hovering over Castiel.
“Should I…?”
Dean gave a slight shrug of his shoulders.
“I…I still think I need saving,” came Castiel’s nervous reply. Were it not for the darkness and the shadow Dean cast over Castiel’s features, he’s sure that Castiel’s normally pale skin would be burning as hotly as his own.
Those lips that Dean dreamt about, that remained a temptation at the end of the miniscule gap between them…Dean leaned in and claimed them in a chaste kiss, his pulse quickening and blood becoming heated with desire, leaving him delirious and aching to explore more, to dip his tongue into the hot cavern of Castiel’s mouth and stroke against that tongue that often directed its disdain at him.
But the sound of gagging (Gabriel) and an uncomfortable cough (Sam), broke the two apart before Dean could take it any further. He swore he heard the smallest of protests whisper against his skin but when he glanced back at Castiel, the hunter was already sitting up in his tomb.
“…Gabriel…”
Castiel was up and stumbling out of his tomb as he made his way to Gabriel, throwing his arms around his older, but shorter, brother.
“Yeah, it’s me, bro. Back from the dead!” Gabriel joked.
There were so many questions to ask, so much of the story that had huge gaps, but everything that Dean, Sam, and Castiel wanted to know was momentarily forgotten as from all around them, the children began climbing out of their tombs, as if waking from a long, comfortable sleep.
“…Castiel?...Gabriel?” a tiny voice asked.
Everyone turned to see the young girl, with large warm eyes and fiery red hair, stumble up out of the tomb closest to Castiel’s, lips trembling and eyes shining with unshed tears. Gabriel let go of Castiel and ran to their younger sister, picking her up and enveloping her in a warm hug. As soon as she was in his arms, she burst into tears.
“We thought you were dead,” she cried, clinging to him and sobbing into his shoulder.
“Aww, come on, sis. Don’t cry,” he said, stroking her hair. The dickishness he had displayed earlier, which Dean took to be typical Gabriel behavior, was pushed aside for the time being as he went into big brother mode. “Takes more than a bad storm to take down your big brother!”
Castiel joined his siblings as what was their left of their small family was reunited.
“You buggers really did it,” Crowley mused, watching as Sam and Dean began gathering the other children.
The surprise in Crowley’s voice came as no shock to Dean, who had also thought their chances of surviving this had been slim to none not that long before.
“I think I could really do this,” Dean said, chuckling as a young kid with Lisa’s eyes hugged his legs. “You know, saving people, hunting things. Sure beats ripping people off.”
“There’s gotta be more out there too. More myths, more monsters,” Sam continued, his eyes shining with his excitement. “We could really help people, Dean.”
“Easy there, Lancelot,” Dean said, unable to hold back his laugh as he patted Sam on the back. “It’s late and we still gotta bring these kids back. I don’t know bout you but I could really use a beer right now.”
With all the children rounded up, the party gathered together and made it through the woods to return to Marbaden. It was the first time since entering the forest that Dean heard owls hoot, mice scurry, and mosquitoes buzzing about, as if life had suddenly returned to the forest. It was also the last time in a long time that anyone reported anything mysterious happening in those woods, the enchantment having been broken with the defeat of the old witch.
Epilogue
Beta: skylar_matthews
Fandom: Supernatural
Rating: PG-13
Genre: AU, Brothers Grimm verse, Fusion, adventure, horror
Pairings: Dean/Cas, mentions of Dean/Cassie, suggested Dean/Lisa
Spoilers: Some for The Brothers Grimm
Warnings: some sexual situations, violence, abuse of the French language, lots of UST
Word Count: 26 000 (in total)
Summary: Under the new French occupation, Dean and Sam Grimm have made a living conning people into believing that fairytales and monsters are real. But when they stumble upon the village of Marbaden, everything that they thought they knew gets turned upside down and instead of creating fairytales, they find themselves living in one.
A/N: Written as part of the dc-everafter Challenge. This is loosely based on the film The Brothers Grimm starring Matt Damon and Heath Ledger. Some significant changes have been made compared to the film but there will still be plot spoilers for those who have yet to watch The Brothers Grimm.
Special thanks to my lovely beta reader, skylar_matthews, and to talli_approved for creating the challenge. This was an awesome excuse to fuse the SPN universe with one of my favorite films and I had a great time writing this! Lastly, I want to thank h4ppy-fun-b4ll for creating beautiful artwork to accompany my fic. It was fun working with you, darling! <3
Prologue | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | Epilogue | Art Masterpost
The full moon hung low in the early evening sky, casting a dull glow over the tombs as Gabriel carefully opened all of them. He pulled the small vial from deep within his cloaks, eyes lifting up to gaze at the old tower looming overhead.
His eyes fell on a black crow, its head tilted as it stared at him with its cold, black eyes, perched on an overhanging branch of a dying tree.
“Soon,” Gabriel said. They had to wait for the eclipse to start before he drew the blood of the ten sacrifices.
It cawed and ascended into the sky, disappearing into the shadows.
*
Sometime earlier that evening…
It was as if Tessa had slipped into a deep sleep, a soft glow on her pale cheeks and the light rise and fall of her chest the only indication that she was still alive. When Sam and Dean had returned her to her home, they witnessed her father lay her down gently, eyes shining with unshed tears. The village was in an upheaval, the villagers too terrified to leave their homes after some had witnessed the deaths of the French soldiers in the enchanted woods. It seemed that neither Crowley nor any of his men had made it out alive.
As the sun dipped low on the horizon, Dean and Sam quickly gathered all that they would need to go after the witch. Truthfully, they knew little about what could stop a centuries old witch, other than breaking whatever spell granted her immortality. They did, however, have ways of protecting themselves.
“What’s this?” Dean asked, catching the small, bound leather bag Sam tossed to him.
“It’s a hex bag. The lore says it’ll prevent the wearer from coming under the witch’s influence.”
Dean tied it to his belt skeptically. “Does it even work?”
“Hopefully.”
So Dean wasn’t thrilled with those odds but what else did they have to go on?
“Take this.”
Dean handed the thin, silver letter opener to Sam. It had been one of the few valuable objects that their father had owned, the handle of blade engraved with the family name Grimm. It was also the only thing they owned that was authentically silver and could be used as a weapon.
“Just in case Gabriel gets too close. If you gotta use it, use it.”
“But Dean, what about you?”
“I’ll be fine. I can handle one, little were-wolf-man-dog-thing.”
Sam shook his head, trying to hide back his chuckle. “I think the word you’re looking for is skinwalker. Skinwalker’s can change at will, outside of the lunar cycle.”
“Yeah, well, whatever it is, don’t let it get you,” Dean said. “I know Cas wants to-anyway, we’re gonna try and save everyone but worst case scenario…”
“Yeah, I got it.”
They slipped into a familiar silence, Dean refilling his pistol and shoving it back into its holster. With darkness quickly approaching, he knew that they were running out of time. If they didn’t get there soon, it may be too late to save Cas.
“He’ll be okay, Dean,” Sam said, startling Dean. “We’ll get him back.”
It should have been more annoying that Sam could be that perspective. But instead, it just filled Dean with a dull sense of dread as his mind raced through the worst case scenarios.
“Damn right we will.”
But even to his own ears, Dean’s words held none of the false confidence he tried to convey.
*
“Dean, look!”
As they stumbled out into the glade, the tower looming high above them, a strange shadow began to slowly crawl in front of the full moon overhead, obstructing its pale glow in the night sky.
“An eclipse!”
Dean was about to retort something sarcastic about Sam’s knack for stating the obvious when we caught sight of a shadow leaning over one of the open tomb stones. As the shadow drew back, the glow from the moonlight fell on Castiel’s pale face, his body nestled peacefully in the tomb.
“Cas!”
Dean raced towards the tomb, pulling out his pistol. He took aim at Gabriel, who was standing over Castiel’s body and clutching a vial.
“You’re too late,” Gabriel said, grinning. “It’s already started.”
As Dean shot at Gabriel, the skinwalker dodged with inhuman speed and bound up the tower, clinging to a rope that led up to the tower’s only entrance. Dean cursed under his breath and knelt down near Castiel, trying to shake the sleeping man awake.
“Cas! Castiel! Come one! Snap out of it!”
Sam dropped down by Dean’s side. “It’s no use, Dean. It’s the same as Tessa: we’re gonna have to break the spell somehow.”
A few drops of blood trickled from an open cut on Castiel’s hand.
“I’m going up after the bitch,” Dean declared angrily.
But as he jumped back to his feet, the clicking of a pistol from behind stopped him dead in his tracks.
“I wouldn’t take another step if I were you,” a cold, deep voice announced. “Unless you fancy painting your mate’s grave with your blood.”
“Crowley.”
Dean turned around and glared at officer. Crowley was accompanied by two French soldiers, the three of them looking as if they had been mangled by vicious bears. One of the soldiers was shaking so much, he could barely hold his musket. But Crowley remained unperturbed and if looks could kill, the murderous glare he had directed at the Grimm brothers would have killed them five times over.
“How the hell you make it out of the forest?”
“See, here’s the thing: we still haven’t made it out of the FUCKING FOREST!” he bellowed, his pistol staying aimed at Dean’s head. “I was given one task and one task only: bring the bloody Grimm brothers’ heads back to General Alistair. But instead, I’ve been running around in circles chasing a fucking werewolf and being attacked by pissed off trees. So you’ll have to excuse me if I’m not in the most conversational mood right now.”
“It’s a skinwalker, not a werewolf,” Sam mumbled.
“Not the best time to be a smartass,” Dean muttered back.
“Will you two shut it!” Crowley snapped. “I don’t give a rat’s arse about witches, wolves, and whatever else is going on here. So let’s cut this short: either lead us out of this death trap, and then we’ll kill you, or you can both be difficult and we kill you now and take our chances getting back to Marbaden.”
“Gotta admit, not really liking those options. Whaddya think, Sammy?”
Dean’s pistol was still held at his side. He knew that if he was going to take a shot, he had to get it right the first time.
“I think we should-NOW!”
With quick reflexes, Dean shot the soldier standing to Crowley’s right in arm, startling the soldier and causing him to drop his musket. Dean jumped out of the way as Crowley shot at him, ducking into a roll. He heard another shot being fired and the other soldier cursing in French, indicating that Sam had hit his mark.
“You’ve got to stop it, Dean! I’ll take care of them!”
As Crowley advanced towards Sam, firing another shot, Sam dodged and with lightening quick speed, flung the silver letter opener. Crowley cried out as it hit his wrist and the pistol went flying. Dean was about to protest, not wanting to leave his brother behind, but the evening was growing darker as the eclipse persisted and he knew there was not much time left.
He jumped to his feet and raced to the tower, grabbing the rope and quickly starting his ascent. He forced himself to not look back at the chaos below as Sam struggled to distract the soldiers, knowing that the second he saw Sam in trouble, he would abandon his task and run to his brother’s side. As his muscles strained and he pulled his body further up the tower, he realized, with a bit of disgust, that the white rope he was clinging to was old, messily braided hair.
Must be the old hag’s hair…
He pushed the thought to the back of his mind, sweat trickling down his face. The moon was now almost completely blocked and there was still another two meters to go. He forced his tired arms to lift his body up closer, ignoring the aches and burns as he pulled and pulled. He thought of those children, of Cas, of everyone that was depending on him now. He thought of how he had spent his life chasing after invisible demons and conning innocent people of their hard earned money just so he wouldn’t have to waste his days making shit pay working in the fields or in the mines. This was his chance, here and now, to show everyone that he was more than just a silver-tongued con-artist.
He breathed heavily, his hand grasping at the window’s edge. With a final burst of adrenaline, he lifted his body up onto the window sill and tumbled into the room. He coughed and sputtered as his body hit the stone-tiled floor, a cloud of dust blurring his vision. As he gasped for air and waved away the dust, the sound of someone chanting in an old language echoed off the walls around him.
Dean stumbled up onto his feet, blinking back the dust in the dim glow of the candle light. As the dust settled and his eyes adjusted, his focus fell on the couple standing before a large mirror at the opposite end of the room. Gabriel, in his usual dark furs, gazed longingly into the empty sockets of an old, withered skeleton, whose bony hands had reached up to grasp his hands as he continued to chant in that language Dean did not recognize. But it wasn’t the loving way in which the skeleton regarded Gabriel that had Dean gaping; it was the image bouncing back from the mirror, revealing a young woman with sultry eyes and flowing locks of dark hair, that was slowly weaving its enchanting pull on the older Grimm.
Damn…was the woman gorgeous. She was easily the most beautiful woman Dean had ever laid eyes upon and it was that very beauty that made Dean take a step forward, wanting to be lost in the world reflected in the mirror.
An angry cawing over Dean’s shoulder made him jump and seemed to draw him back to reality. The crow startled Gabriel as well, who jerked his head in Dean’s direction. The woman in the mirror tossed Dean a venomous look, tugging at Gabriel’s wrist. In front of the mirror, the skeleton mimicked the action.
“Whoa, the years have not been kind to you!” Dean said, using his usual snarkiness to hide the small bubble of fear gurgling in the pit of his stomach.
“Stop him,” she hissed.
Gabriel grinned and advanced towards Dean.
*
“You don’t have to do this!” Sam reasoned, ducking behind a fallen tree trunk. “If we don’t stop her, none of us will be making it out of here alive!”
The rotten wood of the trunk exploded around him as one of the soldier’s shot at it with his musket. In the cloud of dust and bark, Sam hopped out of the way. But his foot came into contact with one of the tree’s roots and he fell to the ground.
Sam coughed out dust, groaning as pain shot through his knee. The mantra of swears he muttered under his breath was interrupted by the click of a pistol and cold metal being pressed against his temple.
“Piss off some old bitch in a tower or the most powerful empire in all of Europe?” Crowley mused. “Sorry, love, but I’ll take my chances with the witch.”
The two soldiers came up to stand on either side of Crowley, sneering down at Sam. Crowley turned to the one on his left, “Jean, ton pistolet.”
The soldier handed his pistol over to Crowley. Without any warning, Crowley flicked his wrists and fired a shot from each gun. The soldiers that had been standing beside him both fell to the ground.
Sam gaped up at Crowley. “But you-“
“Never could stand the bloody French.” Tossing away one of the pistols, Crowley offered his free hand to Sam. Sam, however, was still in shock and merely stared at the proffered hand. “Well? You just going to sit there looking pretty or you going to help save your brother’s boy toy?”
*
Dean’s pistol went flying out of his hands. Before he could pull out his sword, he was knocked onto his back with Gabriel leering down at him.
“Not how you thought you’d be going out, huh Dean-o?” he mocked.
Dean grunted as Gabriel kicked him in his side.
“The pouch,” the witch hissed.
Dean tried to crawl away but Gabriel was too quick. He tugged at the hex bag hanging from Dean’s belt, tearing the thread. Dean swore and cursed but as he stood to his feet, his gaze flickered over to the mirror at the other side of the room.
Like a moth drawn to a burning flame, it was then that Dean felt the full force of her pull. Every inch of him was filled with the desire to give himself over to her completely, to give her the world if only to please her. Unable to control his body, he approached the mirror, her inhumanly beautiful reflection smiling at him in a way that made his toes curl with a pleasure he had only known in the throes of heated passion. His fingers reached out, stroking the surface of the mirror over the image of the woman who now stood behind him and he ignored the scratching sensation of withered bone stroking his exposed collarbone in a loving gesture. In the reflection, all he saw was the soft flesh of a feminine hand, long fingers stretching out to trail lightly over his chest.
“So beautiful, my prince charming,” a voice rasped into his ear. But seeing the woman stretch up on her toes, full, plump lips lightly grazing his earlobe, Dean’s dick twitched when that honey sweet voice assaulted his ears. “Mirror, mirror on the wall, who is the fairest of them all?”
“You are, Mistress,” Dean whimpered, his erection pressing uncomfortably against the constraints of his trousers.
“Of course I am. No one in the land is more beautiful than I.”
Her other hand clutched a small vile filled with blood. “And once I have completed this spell, you and I can be together.”
Dean smiled goofily, the enchantment making him drunk off lust. He dumbly nodded as the woman in the mirror smirked, removing the cap off the vial and drawing it up to her lips-
“Dean, no!”
Dean’s eyes snapped up to upper left corner of the mirror, where he saw a tall man with shaggy brown hair panting and climbing through the windowsill. Something seemed very familiar about this man, tugging at Dean’s memory painfully.
But as the man came through the window, Gabriel cried out angrily. In the mirror, Dean saw him leap up at incredible speed, startling the intruder as both of them tumbled out of the window.
“…SAMMY!”
The sudden pain that ripped through Dean broke the trance that the witch had placed him under. He turned around, grabbed the skeletal witch and threw her as hard as he could into the mirror. The vial she was holding smashed to the floor and she gave a blood-curling hiss as her frail body came into contact with the mirror, shattering and crumbling into dust. The mirror cracked and shattered as well, in a rain of jagged edged bits of glass that cut at Dean’s skin.
But Dean tripped and stumbled through the shattering glass, his heart pounding heavily in his ears as he raced to the window.
“SAMMY!”
As his head shot out of the window, the sight that met him below made him choke on his own breath.
Sam was dangling some meters above the ground with the witch’s hair tied securely around his waist and a very startled and freaked out Gabriel clinging to him for dear life.
“Someone want to tell me what the fuck is going on?!” Gabriel demanded.
“The Grimm brothers prevented the destruction of the village by stopping the witch and the big bad wolf,” Crowley said, smirking up at Gabriel. He was leaning casually against one of the tombs, much to Dean’s surprise. “Oh, and spoiler alert: you’re the big, bad wolf.”
*
Once Dean’s feet were firmly planted on the ground, he didn’t bother asking why Crowley was suddenly on Team Grimm, or even how Gabriel was doing now that he was no longer under the witch’s spell. With the assurance that Sam was okay, Dean ran to Castiel’s tomb, the pale glow of the moon slowly crawling back into the evening sky as the eclipse was approaching its end.
Castiel still lay peacefully in his tomb, eyes closed as if in a deep sleep. His usually expressionless face was relaxed, lips curving in the hint of a small smile. As serene as he looked, Dean couldn’t help the sense of dread and the what ifs that crossed his mind, fearing that Castiel may never wake up.
“Cas? Hey, Cas? Can you hear me?”
He gently shook at his friend’s shoulders. And waited. And tried again.
Castiel didn’t move.
“Cas, come on. You gotta wake up.”
Still nothing.
What the hell? Hadn’t he done it right? He stopped the witch. Him and Gabriel were no longer under her enchantment so why wasn’t Cas waking up?
“I know this story, mate,” Crowley said, coming up beside Dean. He ignored the distrustful glare Dean tossed at him. “They say only true love’s kiss can break the spell…or some rubbish like that.”
“I ain’t kissing him,” Dean protested, annoyed that he could already feel his cheeks heating up.
“Dude, that’s not cool!” Gabriel shouted, from somewhere behind them. “I’m not letting my little bro get mouth raped by the wooly mammoth’s menstruating sidekick.”
Dean decided that whatever was between Castiel and him (not that there was anything…really…), it didn’t mean he had to like the guy’s dick of a brother. Only a few minutes after first being introduced to a Gabriel that wasn’t wolfing out and trying to kill him and Dean already hated the guy.
“If you ever want to see your sleeping beauty’s baby blues again, you’re gonna have to swallow your manly pride and snog your mate,” Crowley said again, with a solemnity that irked Dean.
“Oh for fuck’s-”
He didn’t even bother finishing his protest as he bent towards Castiel, his entire body shaking with nervousness. It was just one kiss, right? It didn’t mean anything. Castiel’s life was in danger and if Dean didn’t do this, his friend may never wake up again.
As Dean’s lips hovered mere millimeters from Castiel’s, so close they almost brushed, Dean took a small breath and let his eyes flutter closed. This was it. He was going to do it, Crowley’s snickering behind him be damned.
“Dean…what are you doing?” a quiet, gravelly voice whispered against Dean’s lips.
Dean’s eyes flew open. He was now being critically analyzed by a pair of questioning, deep blue eyes.
“Saving you,” he whispered back, his breath condensing against Castiel’s lips.
Awkward.
From just over Dean’s shoulder, Crowley was roaring with laughter.
“Oh.”
Even when Castiel gave his startled response, Dean still hadn’t moved. He was still hovering over Castiel.
“Should I…?”
Dean gave a slight shrug of his shoulders.
“I…I still think I need saving,” came Castiel’s nervous reply. Were it not for the darkness and the shadow Dean cast over Castiel’s features, he’s sure that Castiel’s normally pale skin would be burning as hotly as his own.
Those lips that Dean dreamt about, that remained a temptation at the end of the miniscule gap between them…Dean leaned in and claimed them in a chaste kiss, his pulse quickening and blood becoming heated with desire, leaving him delirious and aching to explore more, to dip his tongue into the hot cavern of Castiel’s mouth and stroke against that tongue that often directed its disdain at him.
But the sound of gagging (Gabriel) and an uncomfortable cough (Sam), broke the two apart before Dean could take it any further. He swore he heard the smallest of protests whisper against his skin but when he glanced back at Castiel, the hunter was already sitting up in his tomb.
“…Gabriel…”
Castiel was up and stumbling out of his tomb as he made his way to Gabriel, throwing his arms around his older, but shorter, brother.
“Yeah, it’s me, bro. Back from the dead!” Gabriel joked.
There were so many questions to ask, so much of the story that had huge gaps, but everything that Dean, Sam, and Castiel wanted to know was momentarily forgotten as from all around them, the children began climbing out of their tombs, as if waking from a long, comfortable sleep.
“…Castiel?...Gabriel?” a tiny voice asked.
Everyone turned to see the young girl, with large warm eyes and fiery red hair, stumble up out of the tomb closest to Castiel’s, lips trembling and eyes shining with unshed tears. Gabriel let go of Castiel and ran to their younger sister, picking her up and enveloping her in a warm hug. As soon as she was in his arms, she burst into tears.
“We thought you were dead,” she cried, clinging to him and sobbing into his shoulder.
“Aww, come on, sis. Don’t cry,” he said, stroking her hair. The dickishness he had displayed earlier, which Dean took to be typical Gabriel behavior, was pushed aside for the time being as he went into big brother mode. “Takes more than a bad storm to take down your big brother!”
Castiel joined his siblings as what was their left of their small family was reunited.
“You buggers really did it,” Crowley mused, watching as Sam and Dean began gathering the other children.
The surprise in Crowley’s voice came as no shock to Dean, who had also thought their chances of surviving this had been slim to none not that long before.
“I think I could really do this,” Dean said, chuckling as a young kid with Lisa’s eyes hugged his legs. “You know, saving people, hunting things. Sure beats ripping people off.”
“There’s gotta be more out there too. More myths, more monsters,” Sam continued, his eyes shining with his excitement. “We could really help people, Dean.”
“Easy there, Lancelot,” Dean said, unable to hold back his laugh as he patted Sam on the back. “It’s late and we still gotta bring these kids back. I don’t know bout you but I could really use a beer right now.”
With all the children rounded up, the party gathered together and made it through the woods to return to Marbaden. It was the first time since entering the forest that Dean heard owls hoot, mice scurry, and mosquitoes buzzing about, as if life had suddenly returned to the forest. It was also the last time in a long time that anyone reported anything mysterious happening in those woods, the enchantment having been broken with the defeat of the old witch.
Epilogue