Supernatural - Skating

[scriveyner]

Title: Skating
Fandom: Supernatural
Characters/Pairing: Sam, Dean
Rating: T
Length: 2347
Summary: "I don't see why we both have to go," Dean said, sitting on the bench. It was bitterly cold out, and the bench was wet, to make things just that much more miserable. "I could, you know, stay over here and talk to some of the locals, see what I can dig up-"

"I don't see why we both have to go," Dean said, sitting on the bench. It was bitterly cold out, and the bench was wet, to make things just that much more miserable. "I could, you know, stay over here and talk to some of the locals, see what I can dig up-"

"Dean," Sam said firmly. He was seated beside Dean, and, unlike his brother, was leaning over and lacing up his skates. "We know exactly what it is and how to kill it, we just need to get out there and put this thing under." He set his boots down on the ground, tucking them under the bench in the hopes that they would still be there when they returned.

Dean looked down at the skates setting on the ground before him. It was dark out, and there were police signs everywhere stating that the lake was temporarily closed to skaters. They both had flashlights, but the lake itself was cloaked in darkness.

"I don't see what the issue is here, Dean," Sam said, standing up. He wobbled a moment on the thin blades but recovered his balance quickly. He stopped and looked over at Dean. "Unless..."

"Unless?" Dean repeated grumpily, untying the laces of one boot.

"Unless you can't ice skate," Sam pondered.

"Of course I can ice skate," Dean snorted. "It's not all the different from rollerblading, and we both did THAT that one summer in San Francisco."

"Oh god don't remind me." Sam leaned against the temporary railing that was constructed to help people balance their way over to the ice. He flicked his flashlight around the deserted area. "My knees and elbows spent that summer skinned."

"Yeah, because you sucked." Dean pulled on the skates and began to lace them up. "You kissed serious concrete, bro."

"Whatever, Dean," Sam checked his weapons while Dean tied the skates on securely. "I hope this works, I couldn't find much on KILLING a nix." He compulsively checked that the clip of his 9mm, even though he had checked it just a few minutes before.

Dean stood up carefully, wobbling only slightly. Sam watched Dean wobble his way uncertainly to the entrance gate to the ice. Because of the deaths, the place hadn't been kept up, and there was a sheen of water on top of the ice, just to make things that much messier. Leaning against the rail, Dean busted the lock on the gate open, and it swung in toward him. "Let's go kill this thing," Dean said, his breath white puffs against the dark night. "I fucking hate winter."

"Just think about Florida or something," Sam said as Dean put one foot out on the ice and it went out from under him. Dean let out an undignified squawk and landed flat on his ass. If his jeans weren't wet from sitting on the bench, then they definitely were now from the layer of water on top of the ice. "Dean!"

"I'm all right," Dean grunted, bracing his weight back on his hands and trying to get up off his ass. All this did was slide him further away from the entrance, so Sam carefully crossed over onto the ice. He had no problems and after a second to get his balance worked out, glided carefully over to Dean, who had managed to get to his knees but couldn't work out how to get back to his feet.

"Maybe you should give me your gun," Sam suggested.

"Maybe you should shut the hell up and help me up," Dean said.

Sam shrugged and gave Dean his hand, helping pull his brother to his feet. Dean wobbled a bit back and forth but stayed upright. Sam watched him critically, moving slightly and skating around Dean as Dean started to skate awkwardly forward. "Are you going to be all right?" Sam asked.

"Yes," Dean snapped irritably. "Let's go deal with this damn nix before my ass freezes off!"

Sam watched Dean skate off. Once he got going he was doing fine, but Sam anticipated that slowing down and stopping was going to end in disaster. "Dean!" Sam called, skating forward and catching up with his brother easily. "Maybe we should practice a little before going into combat with you on blades."

"I'm fine," Dean snorted as he skated carefully forward. Sam, who was gliding with minimal effort, reached out one hand and shoved Dean's shoulder. Dean gave a shout and lost his balance, landing on his knee hard.

"Yeah," Sam said. "You're totally fine. How are you going to fire a gun and deal with the recoil if you can't take a shove and stay upright?"

"Shut up," Dean grimaced, both his hands flat on the ice. He scrambled for a moment and slid away on his hands and knees. Sam skated after him, hands behind his back as he watched his brother struggle. "I'll figure it out, stop, stop mocking me."

"Dean," Sam said, offering Dean his hand. "Look, it's not that hard I promise." Dean glared at him but took his hand and allowed Sam to tug him back to his feet. Dean blanched as Sam didn't release his hand and instead pulled him close.

"Sam!" Dean said as Sam fitted Dean's body to him.

"Relax," Sam murmured. "Let your weight carry you forward as you glide." Dean twitched against him and Sam didn't loosen his grip on Dean's wrists. "The key to not ending up on your ass again is to stay relaxed. Trust me, Dean."

"God this is so gay," Dean snorted, his head ducked. "Do me a favor and don't do any like girly pirouettes or anything, okay? I'm not going to wear any spandex for you."

"You've got the basics of skating," Sam said. "You should be fine, just keep your knees bent and stay relaxed."

"Right," Dean said. "And what's my safe word again?"

Sam released Dean and shoved him forwards. Dean let out a startled noise but kept going. Sam watched him skate a little off, and then back toward Sam. "You're doing better."

"This isn't as hard as I'd thought," Dean said. He tried to put his feet together to skate around Sam and managed to wipe out again. Sam sighed and skated back to Dean.

"You don't need to be a figure skater, Dean," Sam said, sliding to a halt in front of him. "You just need to be able to stay upright until we've dealt with this thing." Dean actually got somewhat to his feet on his own, but kept losing one skate out from under him so Sam grabbed his arm to stabilize him until he was fully upright. "Are we good?"

"Sure," Dean said. "I think so."

Sam rolled his eyes and skated forward. "Look, just follow my lead, and if you think you're going to wipe out PLEASE make sure the safety's on on your gun."

The area to skate in was pretty well marked; there was no guarantee on the thickness of the ice out past the markers. They had been moved in quite a bit since what the local papers were making out as a tragic accident. A woman and her young child had fallen through the ice, although bystanders had said there was a third person with them at the time. The witness reports were sketchy, but the mysterious figure was male.

That alone wasn't enough to narrow the list of potential suspects, but some digging turned up that there was always some kind of drowning death this time of year, tracing back over the past twenty years. There were several years that there were no deaths, and the very next one would have two or even three people drowning in similar accidents. Usually it was a boat, or someone falling off a bridge. Two years ago there had been a horrible accident with a car driving into the icy waters. No death last year, and two this year. It fit the M.O. for a nix.

Nix were water spirits, and not always known for hanging around in the coldest season of the year. In fact, they seemed to prefer warmer climates. Be that as it may, both of the brothers were well-equipped to deal a killing blow to the creature.

Now that they were on less certain ground, Sam kept sweeping his flashlight back and forth over the ice. The clouds had broken in the sky above and the moon hung high in the sky, creeping its way toward full once again. He would toss a glance over his shoulder occasionally, but Dean was keeping up with him and doing fine, from the looks of it.

The area where the woman had fallen through the ice was cordoned off both with orange traffic cones and tape connecting the cones together. The ice had since cracked around it.

Dean slid to a stop next to Sam and only wobbled slightly. "Okay, so this is where they died. How do we summon it?"

Sam took a deep breath and sung out some words in a language that sounded slightly familiar to Dean's ear. The words seemed to hang on the silence that spread out over the ice. As Sam's words faded into the darkness, Dean shook his head. "What was that?"

"Welsh," Sam said. "It's an ancient term, an entreaty for a fae to show themselves to mortals."

"Dude, I don't even want to know where you learned all this fae stuff." Dean shook his head as the water started to churn in the hole in the ice.

"It's amazing what you can pick up if you actually read more things," Sam said, pulling his gun out of where he had securely tucked it. The water was churning itself into a froth, spilling up over the ice. Nothing had emerged, just yet.

The ice beside Dean cracked. Dean tried skating backwards and tripped himself, flailing over backwards. Sam didn't have time to pull Dean to his feet so he skated forward rapidly, grabbing Dean by the arm and dragging him along the ice away. The cracked area broke out and a creature not entirely unlike some sort of cross between a dragon and a crocodile.

"Dude!" Dean shouted. "That is NOT a nix!"

It emerged onto the ice, tiny clawed limbs pulling it out of the water. Sam aimed his gun at it and shot, the bullet grazing off the creature. It opened its jaws wide, long tendrils that almost looked like whiskers unfurling. Sam released Dean, leaving him to his own devices for a second while he pulled out the enchanted, demon-killing dagger from where he'd sheathed it. Unfortunately, those few seconds were critical and the creature shot forward on the ice, moving faster than either of them had anticipated.

Its whisker-like tendrils ensnared one of Dean's legs. He twisted on the ice, trying to get to his gun, but it started dragging him. "Dean!" Sam shouted hoarsely, skating forward. Dean kicked at the thing, bringing the blade of the ice skate down onto its head. This worked better than he anticipated, the sharp end of the blade jabbing down into the creature's snout. It snarled and jerked its head, which while the tendrils were still wrapped around Dean's leg sent him skating across the ice on his ass.

Dean gritted his teeth and ripped his skate out of its head, kicking forward at it again. It snarled and snapped but had no way to defend against Dean's kicks with the sharp blade of his skate.

Sam slid forward, skating onto his knees. He grabbed the thing around its neck. It thrashed its head and Sam drove the demon-killing knife directly between its eyes. The creature let out a strange shrieking noise, thrashing violently as it died. Sam held it down so it couldn't whip Dean across the ice any further until its death throes ceased.

"That's not a nix," Dean said, once Sam slowly got up off of it.

"No, it's not," Sam crawled forward on the ice and sliced through the whiskers that were still tangled around Dean's leg. Dean yanked his skate from its head. "Should we leave it?"

"Might as well," Dean said, now freed from it. He pulled the green feelers from his jeans. "Ugh, I think it was gonna try to eat me, it had torn holes in my jeans already!"

Sam pushed the creature with his skate, forcing it back toward the hole. "Let's let the waters take care of this," he said. A good shove from his skate and it slid off into the hole and vanished into the dark waters. "I think that was a wani."

"A wani?" Dean tried to push himself to his feet and failed again. Sam got to one knee and managed to lever himself into a standing position so he could pull Dean to his feet. "What the hell's that?"

"A Japanese sea monster," Sam said. "I remember reading about it in one of Bobby's books, but I had no idea what they look like."

"Nice." Dean looked down at Sam, who was still holding both his hands. "You can let me go now."

Sam looked down, and then released Dean's hands suddenly. "Sorry," he said, shoving his hands into his jacket pockets. "Let's get out of here."

"Best idea you've had all night," Dean said. "My ass is an ice cube, and I think my balls have retreated into my body for warmth."

"Ahahah," Sam snorted, skating after Dean. "Think about Florida, Dean."

"Mmm," Dean sighed ahead. He slide over an imperfection in the ice and flailed his arms out. Sam whipped his arms out of his pockets quickly enough to catch Dean as he fell backwards.

"When I said think about Florida, I meant the weather and not the chicks you want to bang," Sam said.

"Shut up," Dean snorted. Sam laughed and shoved Dean back to his feet.

"Last one to the car does all the laundry for a month," Sam said, and shot forward.