Title: Heart of Stone
Category: H/C, action
Word count: ~7000
Summary: Sam and Dean hunt down an ancient, legendary killer, but things don't go according to plan and Sam ends up paying the price.
Written for dither_river's prompt on the comment fic meme at ohsam
See the prompt here: ohsam.livejournal.com/196018.html
Disclaimer: I still don't own this show or its characters, but a girl can dream, can't she?
A/N: This little story was written in response to a prompt from Dither_River with the OhSam comment fic meme at Livejournal. I strayed a little from the original prompt, but I think I managed to keep in line with the spirit of it. I know it's not perfect and there's bound to be tons of mistakes, but hope you enjoy it anyway and let me know if it's any good or not. Thanks! :D
Heart of Stone
"You gotta be kidding me."
"Nope. Wish I was, Kid."
"Seriously though...Medusa? Turn you into a garden gnome because she's so ugly, Medusa?" Dean looked at Bobby as though he himself had grown a head full of snakes. Sam too was staring at the older hunter with some skepticism.
"Not the Medusa, ya idjit...a Medusa. These things have been around since the beginning of time, but they're not like the critter you saw in Clash of the Titans. From what I've read here..." Bobby picked up a dusty, old tome and pushed it across his desk towards Sam and Dean. Sam turned the book, so he could read it while Bobby kept talking. "These girls actually come across as beautiful women luring men to their lairs then turning their victims into stone after they reveal their true forms. They're mostly a problem in Greece and other parts of the Mediterranean, but I've never heard of one in the States...that is, until now."
"What makes you certain it's a Medusa, Bobby?" Sam asked, looking up from the page that displayed a rather nasty-looking depiction of the creature, the serpents in her hair writhing about her head while a long, snake-like tail whipped out behind her, smashing one of her victims into rubble. Sam knew from experience that the pictures in the books rarely matched up with the reality of their quarry, yet at the same time, she didn't sound like something he'd want to run into alone in a dark alley.
"Well, how about five missing men from a rural Texas county in only two weeks and then just last week, the sheriff out there was called to a house that had apparently been abandoned and guess what they found?"
"Lemme guess, five statues of the missing guys?" Dean grinned as he put it together.
"Bingo. Police think they have some sort of serial killer with a sick penchant for sculpting the victims on their hands, but other than that, no carving tools or extra stone were found around the house."
"So...this bitch just grabs random guys, turns them into knick-knacks then takes off? Why?"
"She's feeding on them. Look-" Sam started, lifting the book for Dean to see what he was reading. "Medusa's are kinda like succubus'. They draw the men in with sex, then suck the life out of them in the process of...ya know...and when she's finished, all that remains of her victims are statues. She leaves them behind because she doesn't need them anymore."
"Ooookay then, so what is she doing here when she's been snacking on guys in Greece for thousands of years?"
"Hell if I know." Bobby grumbled with a shrug. "Maybe she just got tired of Greek food."
"Yeah, I can understand that. Last time I ate Greek, I didn't poop for a week." Dean groused.
Sam shook his head disapprovingly and pulled a face. "Too much information, Dean."
"Whatever, dude. So now the big question remains: how do we gank her?" Dean asked, ready to leave the books behind and get some action.
"First we gotta find her." Sam came back. "Then after that, we cut her head off." He added matter-of-factly.
"Huh...Sounds like a normal, everyday Tuesday to me." Dean grinned sarcastically, knowing that nothing they did was ever that simple.
"Actually, it shouldn't be too hard." Bobby interjected, turning the laptop he had facing him around. On the screen, an article with the headline 'Local Man Goes Missing' splashed across the page. "Looks like she's on the hunt again and only a few towns away from where the first victims disappeared. The guy was last seen leaving a bar with a young, attractive blonde woman just after midnight three days ago and hasn't been seen since. Police haven't been able to track her down, but I bet you dollars to donuts that's her and she'll be looking to make a meal out of some poor schmuck pretty soon."
Pulling into Big Bob's Bar and grill's parking lot, Dean found a decent parking spot, one far enough away from the entrance to keep his baby from being molested by drunks yet close enough for he and Sam to make a quick escape should trouble come up, which it often did in these little biker bars out in the middle of no-where, west Texas.
"So, ya sure this is the place?"
"I guess so. The last victim was taken from another bar a few miles up the road and I'm figuring that she wouldn't come to the same place twice in one week, so this is as good a place to start as far as I can see, especially since it's the only other bar in town."
"Okay, genius. Just how are we supposed to tell who this bitch is anyway?"
"Well...she's supposed to be very beautiful, right?..." Sam watched as a heavy-set, middle-aged woman with far too much make-up and far too little clothing stumbled out of the bar. She tried to light a cigarette, but couldn't get her lighter to work, so instead, she threw-up into the bushes beside the entrance. "She shouldn't be too hard to find in this crowd." He pointed out as he made a disgusted face.
'Crowd' wouldn't have been the word Dean would have chosen for the people patronizing the bar that evening as when they walked inside. He counted a total of twenty people and only a handful were women, or at least those that he could be certain were women as there was one chick/dude that he had a hard time identifying as either. And of those whom he was sure actually had two X chromosomes, none of them were what he would consider 'Super-model hot' in his book.
"I dunno, Sammy. Big Bob's doesn't exactly seem like a place that attracts a whole lot of babes." He muttered to his brother as they strolled towards the bar then each took a seat.
"It's still early, Dean. The last guy that disappeared wasn't seen leaving the other bar until after midnight. Plus, if you were a life-sucking creature, it wouldn't be too hard to find an easy mark in here. I bet any one of these guys would jump at the chance to sleep with a woman that didn't look like Big Mama from the Hills Have Eyes. Let's just give it some time and if we don't get anything, then we'll think of something else."
"Fine, but you're buying the beer."
Two hours, four beers and far too many country songs later, saw Dean ready to leave the dingy bar and find a motel where he could shower for an hour to get the smell of stale beer and cigarette smoke off of him. They weren't getting anywhere hanging out there and the best-looking woman he had seen all night was a '5' or '5½' at best. Sure, the bar had filled up, but not with the sort of people with which Dean wanted to socialize.
"Let's go, Sam. This place is depressing the hell out of me." He nodded his head towards the man sitting across the bar from them with his head on the table, passed out cold. "If our gal's on the prowl tonight, it's not in here."
Sam sighed, deflated. "I guess you're right. This place is pretty much a bust."
Dean stood up from his seat, then nudged Sam to pay for their drinks. He rewarded Dean with an impressive bitch face before digging into his pocket for some money to pay the barkeeper. As Sam was in the process of paying, Dean turned towards the door, then stopped suddenly cold in his tracks.
From the entrance walked in one of the most stunning women he had ever seen before. Long, golden ringlets cascaded past her bare shoulders while the red, strapless dress she wore, hugged every sensuous curve of her body. He face was flawlessly beautiful with piercing blue eyes that scanned the establishment with an enticing hunger.
Dean was in a trance just staring at her and he was powerless to turn away, that is until Sam smacked into him from behind, unprepared for his sudden stop.
"Whoa, Dean...what the f-" That's when Sam finally noticed what he was seeing and he wasn't alone. Almost every head in the bar turned her way as she sashayed their way.
"You think that's her?" Sam asked with a whisper to Dean.
"Duh." Dean replied.
She wasn't going to bother with this place tonight and she really should be moving on to another town, but she was just so hungry that she couldn't stand it any longer.
Her last one had been easy to pick up, but he had been so puny and unsatisfying that she was already weakening.
She didn't hold out much hope for there being any decent men to choose from in this dive. This podunk town was pretty slim in the pickings, but the men here were desperate and any one of them would drop everything to be with her. Besides, she didn't them to be good-looking, she just needed them to be alive.
Perhaps that was why she had been so surprised to see him. Tall, muscular and radiating an energy and life-force like she had never felt before. She had to have him, he was a meal too good to pass up.
"Buy me a drink?" She asked, walking straight up to Sam and Dean, a small, seductive smile playing on her lips.
"Sure, what's your pleasure?" Dean asked, with a cocky grin and a twinkle in his eye. Sam felt like kicking him. He knew the girl was the creature they were hunting, but even still he couldn't help but flirt with her. Jeez, his little head was going to get them both killed one day.
"Not you." She brushed by Dean, all but ignoring him and stopping directly in front of Sam, surprising both brothers simultaneously as she pointed a finger at him. "You."
Sam gulped. This hadn't exactly been in the game plan. Dean was the one that had insisted that he be the bait, but plans had a way of changing on them and it didn't hurt to see his big brother look a little crestfallen by the fact that he had been passed over, so Sam decided to roll with it. He shot a look at Dean, who shrugged his shoulders, minutely tilting his head towards the exit, signaling silently that he'd be waiting out in the car, ready to follow them should the Medusa take the bait.
"Ah...sure." He gestured to the bar and she led the way to it, slinking into a seat and shooting Sam a pair of bedroom eyes as he sat down next to her. "What'll you have?" He asked.
"Martini." She replied huskily and Sam ordered it for her a moment later. Once the drink was made, it was place in front of her, yet she never bothered to even so much as pick it up.
"So...what's you name?" Sam ventured to ask.
"Does it matter?" She responded, undressing him with her eyes. "You can call me whatever you want." She added.
He shifted uncomfortably in his seat under her gaze. He hadn't been 'with' a woman in long time and he was pretty rusty at the whole game.
"It's pretty dead in here tonight, don't you think?" She asked, her eyes fully locked onto him and he found that he couldn't look away. She really was stunning and despite the fact that she was a life-sucking, vile creature on the inside, he couldn't help but be a little turned on by the outside package.
After a moment or two, he snapped himself out of his mini-trance, mentally slapping himself for his slip and focusing again on the job.
"I suppose so." He replied, trying to play it cool and nonchalant even though he was sure his face was turning all different kinds of red.
"How about we get out of here then?" She really didn't allow him to answer, instead she placed a hand over his, taking hold, practically dragging him out of his seat and towards the door.
"This is stupid, Sam. Stupid." Dean muttered to himself, alone in the car, waiting for any sign of his brother to leave the bar with Snakie-hair. It wasn't supposed to be like this, Sam wasn't supposed to be the bait, but now that his idiot brother had decided to switch roles on him, he wasn't about to let that bitch hurt Sam and she was gonna be toast, now matter how pretty she looked on the outside.
Dean was nervously tapping his fingers against the steering wheel when he caught sight of Blondie leading Sam out of the bar by the hand, pulling him towards her car.
"Well, that didn't take long." She sure did put a whole new spin on the definition of 'easy'. It had been only a couple of minutes since the girl walked in to the bar and already she had Sam in her clutches.
Dean watched the car take off from the parking lot, let her have a ten second head start then followed after, keeping a safe distance so as not to tip her off to his chase.
They drove down the highway for a good ten miles until she turned off onto a dirt drive. Dean killed the headlights, putting the Impala into stealth mode as he slowed down, watching from a distance as she pulled in front of a small, lonely house. He was not at all surprised that she had picked a lair out in the middle of the Texas bum-farts; she had privacy out here for her kills and he was going to have to park a ways away if he was to surprise her. The only problem with that was having Sam out of his line of sight for so long, so he would have to hurry before she took things too far with him.
He waited until he saw the woman lead Sam into the house, then sprung into action, running to the trunk, grabbing his shotgun, extra shells and most importantly of all, the machete.
"Time for heads to roll, bitch." He growled, psyching himself up for the kill, his heart starting to pound as he headed for the house on foot.
Sam wasn't all that surprised that the Medusa hadn't said much on the drive, but he had been more than a little creeped out when she reached across her seat and grabbed his thigh, stroking it up and down. He had to bite his tongue not to yelp out in surprise, but somehow, he managed not to follow the instincts of his stomach and puke all over the interior of the car.
He was perfectly aware that his brother was following not too far behind, but luckily, his 'date' didn't seem to have a clue as her hand kept wandering farther and farther upward.
Taking in a shaky breath, Sam had to close his eyes more than once in order to still his pounding heart and avoid becoming aroused himself, but that was easier said than done, especially when her hand found the button to his jeans.
"Whoa..." He squirmed with a little nervous laugh. "You're really...frisky, Aren't ya?"
"What's the matter, baby? Don't you like it?"
Sam tried to grin, but was certain it turned out more like a grimace, but she hardly took notice as she pulled onto a dirt driveway.
Thankfully, she had to take her away from his crotch moments later as she parked the car in front of a small, wood-framed house out in the middle of nowhere. Sam had lost sight of the Impala, but he prayed that Dean wasn't too far behind as she got out of the car and beckoned Sam to follow her, curling her finger towards herself.
As soon as Sam was at the door with her, she was opening it and saying. "Come inside. This is where the magic happens, Cutie."
He didn't really get the chance to prepare himself for her assault as she tugged him across the threshold forcefully by both flaps of his jacket. She slammed the door shut with her foot and before he could stop her, she was all over him, kissing his neck, running her hands across his back and working them downwards. Suddenly, in one burst of energy, she ripped off his jacket before pulling apart his shirt, popping buttons off and sending them hurling across the room.
All the while, all he could think was, bad touch, bad touch, bad touch...
"You smell so delicious." She purred in his ear, then without warning, she pushed him, knocking him onto the couch and pouncing on him, straddling his thighs and trapping him underneath her. He had half a mind to buck her off of him, but doing that would have tipped her off to his ulterior motives and might cause her lash out against him. He really didn't want to piss her off and have her turn him into a garden statue before Dean could come in and take her head off and besides, as long as they didn't actually have sex, she couldn't suck the life out of him, or at least he truly hoped so.
Speaking of which, he thought, where was Dean?
There was only so much playing along Sam could do as she roamed her hands all over his chest and he really hoped his brother would just hurry his ass up already and get her the hell off of him. However, when she reached for his zipper and started pulling it down, he began to freak out a little. Things were starting to get out of hand and he had to take some action before she practically raped him.
"Hey, hey ,hey..." He grabbed her hand and tried to push it away. "Shouldn't we slow down a little?" He tried to protest, but she was quite persistent and held him tight between her thighs with super-human strength.
"I will have you!" She demanded with a hiss and Sam watched in horror as her eyes turned blood red, her mouth opened to reveal a forked tongue sliding between two, long fangs and her once beautiful, golden curls came to life, slithering and writhing as they turned from tresses into voracious snakes.
"I don't think so, Bitch!" Dean's voice came out of nowhere followed by a deafening blast from his shotgun. The impact slammed into the surprised Medusa's chest and sent her hurtling into the back of the sofa. Sam tried to scramble away, managed to get his arms to the floor and was half-way off the couch before he felt a clawed hand wrap tightly around his ankle, digging deeply into his skin, drawing blood.
"NO!" The enraged creature screeched. "He's mine!"
Sam couldn't get away no matter how hard he pulled against her grip. "Dean!"
"Get your fugly-assed paws off him!" Yelled Dean, brandishing his machete. He swung the blade with malicious intent while she screamed hideously. The sharpend edge of the weapon made contact with her neck, slicing through, skin, bone and sinew until the head came tumbling down, landing on the back of Sam's thighs. The Medusa's body convulsed in it's death throws, but Sam swore that the hand that had a vice grip on his ankle actually clamped down tighter and he couldn't escape its clutches, nor could he kick off the writhing snakes of her decapitated head from his legs.
He felt tiny fangs scratching against his jeans, still alive for now and tearing at the fabric until one pair finally broke through, piercing his skin. The pain of the bite was exquisite and he was powerless to stop himself from crying out.
Dean didn't need any further prompting and grabbed his shotgun, using the barrel of it to roll the head off of his little brother, then used the toe of his boot to punt the thing across the room.
Sam, still awkwardly stuck half-way off the couch, kicked his foot, hoping to dislodge the hand connected to his ankle, but it refused to budge.
"Little help here?" He asked Dean. His whole leg was throbbing now, but his only true concern was to get the damned claws out of his skin and get as far away from the sleazy creature's body as possible. Even in death, she was way, way, way too grabby.
"Oh...uh..." Dean tried as well to pry the hand off, but Sam only felt the nails sink in deeper and on top of that, his foot was beginning to go numb, in fact it felt like his whole body was on pins and needles.
"Just get it off." Sam pleaded.
"I'm trying...Hold on..." Dean grunted as he strained the muscles in his arms in his attempt to pull the hand away, but after several tries, he and Sam both knew his efforts would be worthless."Dammit!" Dean panted after his last attempt failed.
"Dean-" Sam ground out through clenched teeth. "The machete...cut it off!"
"Dude, I'm not cutting your foot off!"
"Not my foot!...the hand!...cut off the hand!" Sam demanded sharply.
"Right. I knew that." Dean insisted sheepishly, his face flushing from his misunderstanding, but was mercifully quick in wielding the large blade and slicing through the offending arm, finally releasing Sam from her hold and causing him to land none too gracefully to the floor on his face. He felt the fingers of her hand relax and with a couple of swift kicks, he sent it flying off of him.
Sam rolled onto his back and panted, praying for feeling to return to his foot.
"You okay, Bro?" Dean asked, standing over him.
Blowing out a breath, Sam nodded then accepted the hand Dean offered and let him help him from the floor.
He came to his feet a little unsteadily, but Sam chalked it up to adrenaline and waved his brother off. "I'm good."
"Ya sure? Looking a little green around the gills there, Sammy." Dean eyed him closely.
"I'll be fine. Let's just get this bitch torched and get the hell out of here." Sam insisted.
"You got it. One roasted snake-chick coming up."
Sam started off their clean-up feeling a little off, but wasn't all that concerned. Sure, his foot was still numb, his leg throbbed and he had the beginnings of a migraine from hell, but it wasn't enough to send off too many alarm bells at first. However, when his stomach started to cramp and his other foot began to grow numb as well, he started to get the dreaded feeling that something was terribly wrong.
"Tell you one thing." Dean started to say while in the process of draping a sheet he found over the face of the Medusa's head so he could wrap it up for an easier transport to the shallow fire pit they had dug in the back yard. "She certainly didn't do fugly halfway, did she?"
Dean's voice took on a hollow, distant timbre as Sam's vision began to swim. A floaty, lightheadedness came over him just before a monster cramp clamped down on his stomach and he doubled over, clenching an arm around his pained abdomen.
He groaned as he fell to his knees, barely aware that Dean had run over to him, calling his name.
"Sam?...What is it?...What's wrong?"
Sam shook his head and moaned as another wave of cramping struck, this time attacking the muscles of his legs.
"C'mon, Sam...talk to me."
"Oh God..." was all Sam could croak out. Dean reached his arms around Sam's waist, trying to help him to his feet.
"C'mon, Sammy...let's get you to the couch." Sam allowed his brother to help him straighten up, but when he made it to his feet, he found them almost too heavy to move and with each step, the numb sensation increased until he couldn't feel either one of them. The couch was only a few feet away, but getting to it made him feel as though he was running a marathon, his muscles cording with uncontrollable cramps while his face flushed and beaded sweat.
Dean helped him to lay on the couch and Sam opened the eyes he had clenched shut to see his brother's worried face hovering over him. "What going on Sam? Where's the pain?"
"Evry'where..." Sam groaned. "My feet..."
"Your feet hurt?"
Sam shook his head. "Can't...feel 'em."
"Okay, okay.. lemme take a look." Dean said, going for his shoes while Sam wrapped his arms around himself, the heat he had felt coursing through him only moments ago had fled and now he was left shivering and freezing cold.
Unlacing Sam's shoes, Dean pulled at the shoe of the foot the Medusa had grabbed onto first and took it off. The sock came off next and what Dean saw had him questioning his sight and gulping a hard knot of fear down his throat.
"Oh God..." Dean breathed out.
"W-w-what?...what is it?" Sam asked, not happy to hear that come from Dean's and he struggled to sit up and take a look for himself. Seeing what Dean saw now, left Sam with the bitter taste of bile flooding into his mouth. His foot had turned a greyish-white, but worse than that was the blatant fact that it was no longer flesh and blood; it was a solid rock.
"C'mon, c'mon...pick-up, pick-up..." Dean begged, listening to the third ring of Bobby's phone. He held his breath as he waiting through another ring, dreading the possibility that he the older man wouldn't answer. He finally let it out when he heard the other man grumble and clear his throat before giving him a sleepy 'What?'
"Bobby, thank God-"
"What is it, Dean?" Bobby asked, his clearly reflecting concern at Dean's near panicked voice. "What happened?"
"It's Sam- He's...we..."
"Just say it, Boy."
"We need your help. That Medusa bitch did a pretty good number on him, so please tell me that you have something in that ginormous library of yours that can reverse her whole turning people into stone crap."
"What? She turned Sam to stone?"
"Not exactly, just his feet so far, but it's getting worse. Sam was bitten by one of her snakes and she had her claws in him, either one of those could have poisoned him."
" Give me a few minutes, I just had that damn book -" Dean heard a clamor over the phone as Bobby dug around his bookshelves.
"I know...hold on..." Bobby growled at him, but with worry evident in his voice. "found it." He announced after a few moments. Dean heard pages being turned rapidly before the older man spoke up up again.
"Okay...says here that the snakes carry a venom that causes the petrification. After she's done draining the life out of her victims, she lets them bite multiple times as part of her..uh...well...final pleasure, if you get my drift."
"You can call it orgasm, Bobby. I'm a big boy now."
"Whatever you want to call it, it doesn't matter. The main point I'm trying to make her is that Sam was only bitten once, causing the poison to release much slower and that might buy us some time."
"So, how do we fix this?"
"I dunno yet. There's nothing in my books that says anything about a cure, but let me make some calls, maybe someone knows something we don't."
"How long is that gonna take? I don't know how long Sam has and if this spreads up to his chest-"
"I know, you don't have to tell me to hurry. I will."
Sam shivered. The coldness was growing as was the paralyzing effects of the snake's venom. He didn't have to lift up his pants legs in order to know that not only his feet, but now his legs were solid rock as he no longer had any sort of sensation from the knee down.
He tried not to panic at the thought of being fossilized alive, slowly and painfully, but he really couldn't focus on anything else while wave after wave of cramping coursed through all of the muscles in his body that had already been petrified.
He moaned pitifully as it was all he could do to ride out the agony as another spasm of muscle cramps took hold. So lost was he in his misery that he didn't even realize that Dean had returned from calling Bobby until he felt a blanket being draped over him and a warm hand laying over his forehead. He was grateful for the added warmth not only of the blanket, but of the physical contact. He just didn't have the wherewithal to tell Dean until the tidal wave of pain passed a few moments later and he could once again breathe normally.
"Hey, Sammy. Is it better now?" Dean asked, seeing that he had recovered somewhat.
Sam nodded his head, unable to move much more than that.
"Don't worry. I got Bobby working on this and you know the old coot, if anyone can fix this, it's him."
"I know." Sam spoke with a weak voice. "But, Dean...if he can't...you should know..."
"Shut up, Sam." Dean demanded, but not with any anger or force behind it. "You're gonna be fine."
"Just in case...okay?" Sam met Dean's eyes and a novel could have been written in what was said between the two of them without any words.
Sam was hardly aware of much anymore as every breath and every moment brought with it excruciating pain and Dean could do nothing about it but wait for Bobby's call.
The muscle cramps and accompanying agony seemed to be lasting longer and coming more frequently now, but Dean did his best trying to keep Sam comfortable and calm even if half of his body was now rock, creeping past his navel, nearing his chest and causing his breathing to become increasingly more labored.
"Deep breaths, Sam. Just keep breathing, got it?" Dean coached.
Sam nodded almost imperceptibly, his eyes squeezed tight as he tried to wheeze in a shuddering breath. Dean had a hold on Sam's hand, letting him clamp down on it when the pain grew intense and when yet another paroxysm hit, Dean had to bite his lip not to cry while Sam nearly crushed his hand. Despite that however, Dean wasn't about to let go, not if it helped even just a little bit to get Sam through this.
Dean felt Sam's grip loosen after a couple of minutes and he sighed a little in relief when Sam relaxed some, the pain having dissipated for the time being.
Aware that they were running out of time, Dean looked over again at his phone sitting on the floor next to him as if he could somehow will Bobby to call and say that he had the cure they needed, but it stayed frighteningly silent.
A few minutes passed before it finally started to ring and Dean couldn't reach for it fast enough.
"Bobby-" He answered quickly. "Please tell me you got something."
"It took some tracking down, but I've got something that should work, but you won't like it."
As Bobby explained how to make an anti-venom that might reverse Sam's condition, Dean realized that he was in fact not going to like what he had to do, but he'd done things that were far worse and with Sam's life at stake, he do just about anything.
After giving Bobby his thanks and hanging up the phone, Dean dislodged his hand from Sam's grip, causing his younger brother to open his eyes and give him a questioning look. "Bobby?" He mouthed silently, unable to draw in enough air to speak. Dean squeezed his shoulder in order to reassure him that he had a handle on things, even if on the inside, Dean wasn't quite as confident.
"Yeah. Bobby gave me recipe for a cure, so just hang in there, Sammy. I won't be long."
Dean was a whirlwind of action after that, running out of the house at top speed, his legs burning as he covered the nearly quarter mile to his car. He popped the trunk as soon as he reached it and rooted around until he found the small bottle of holy water he had stashed in there as it was the first ingredient he needed for the cure.
He raced back to the house after that in order to gather the second, and undeniably most disgusting ingredient.
As soon as Dean rushed back inside however, hhe stopped in his tracks to see Sam, his eyes wide with fear as he gasped desperately for breath.
It became crushingly apparent that Dean had little time left before his brother's chest turned to stone and he could no longer pull any air into his lungs.
"Hold on, Sam." He urged as he moved quickly, going directly for the body of the Medusa that had still yet to be taken outside and disposed of properly. He rolled her onto her back then reached into his pocket for his silver-bladed knife, taking a deep breath before plunging it into her chest, hitting the breastplate. Even in death, the silver acted almost like acid on the creature's bone and cutting through it turned out to be far easier than he would have expected, but that still didn't do much to quell the riot of nausea assaulting him as he sliced through muscle and ribs. The worst part came next when he had to pull apart the ribcage, hearing and feeling the snap of bones as he worked to expose the heart.
He winced and grimaced in complete disgust as he reached into her chest cavity and cut through the arteries and veins connecting the organ to the body. Taking hold of it in his hands, he tugged and pulled up. It made several squishy sucking noises as he removed it completely and he moaned, wanting to puke as he held the slippery and blood coated muscle in his hand.
"Uhg" He groaned.
The sounds of Sam wheezing behind him however, spurred him on and his discomfort was forgotten as he recalled the next step in creating the anti-venom. He raced to the kitchen and opened the cupboards, looking for a pot. He found one finally, and hurried to set it on one of the stove's burners. He dumped the heart into the pot then reached into his jacket pocket for the holy water and poured the entire contents of the bottle into it as well.
He watched in amazement and more than just a little bit of queasiness as the heart began to fizzle and collapse within the blessed water, dissolving into a soupy mixture.
As far as supernatural remedies went, it really was quite simple. The best way to fight any venom was with the venom itself and according to Bobby, the heart was the best source for it and combining it with the holy water would create an anti-venom. He just had to make sure he didn't tell Sam what it was he was feeding him or he'd never get him to swallow the stuff.
With his knife, he mixed the concoction together. At first, he expected it to stay a globby, oozy mess, but after just a couple of stirs, the blood and goo dissolved almost completely, leaving it looking more like pinkish water.
Dean didn't waste a moment longer after and ran back to the couch where Sam lay. His lips had taken on a pale, bluish color as he struggled to breathe. He was too weak to take the mixture on his own, so Dean lifted the pot up to his little brother's mouth.
"C'mon, Sam...gotta drink this." Dean urged him, tipping the liquid into his mouth. Sam coughed and sputtered at first taste, but took in a little more, managing to swallow a couple of mouthfuls before he was left breathless.
The effect was almost instantaneous, but not what Dean was expecting or hoping for. Sam gasped , his eyes wide in shock, his head coming off the couch as the muscles in his neck strained into tight cords, his jaws clenching tightly and teeth grinding together. Dean was helpless to do anything for his brother and it seemed to going on for an eternity until as swiftly as that fit started, it was over and sam's head collapsed back down to the couch, his facial features and body suddenly so calm and still that Dean thought at first that he had killed his brother.
"Sam?" Dean's head went to Sam's chest and he breathed a sigh of relief to hear the steady, if not a little rapid, beat of his heart and to feel the up and down motion of his breathing.
Dean then caught sight of Sam's toes and he grinned to see them turn from grey to pink before his eyes.
Sam wasn't sure how long he slept, he just knew that when he woke up, the pain was gone, he had feeling back in all of his body and he was cocooned up tightly in a blanket.
He managed to pull the blanket up far enough to see his feet, gave his toes an experimental wiggle and didn't think he had ever been more happy to see them flicking back and forth in his entire life.
"Hey." Sam turned his head towards the sound of Dean's voice next to him. "Welcome back from, Sammy. I was worried for a minute that I was gonna have to haul you back to Bobby's in a trailer and plant you in his front yard for the pigeons to poop on."
"Very funny, Dean. How long have you been waiting to say that?"
"Oh...just a couple of hours. How're you feeling?"
"Much better." Sam replied, sitting up on his elbows and looking around. "Where's the body?" He asked, seeing the room cleared out and cleaned up.
"Torched." Dean answered with some satisfaction. "and let me tell ya, be glad you were out like a light for the Bar-B-Q because that smell was almost as nasty as her looks."
"I'll take your word for it." Sam grunted as he rolled fully into a sitting position. He was ready to get out that place and as far from that place as possible.
"Hey. There's no rush, ya know." Dean pointed out, sensing his desire to leave. "You can go back to sleep, get a little more rest before we hit the road."
"No way. I can sleep in the car. I just want to go."
Dean couldn't really argue with that and not soon after, they were on the road, heading north. The sun was just starting to peek out from the horizon and they had about a twenty mile drive before they hit the next town where they could get a motel room and get some much needed R&R before looking into their next job.
Sam was still sore and tired from his ordeal, but even so, he couldn't sleep he still a bunch of questions floating around in his head that needed answers.
"Okay. I gotta know. How did Bobby find the anti-venom? Who would he know that's ever hunted one of these things before?"
Dean grinned. "I asked him that same question while you were asleep. Turns out he knew someone, who knew some guy, who knew some other guy, who called a hunter in Greece that knew of it."
"Ah..." Sam nodded slowly, he guessed that answer was good enough for him as he was still made out of flesh and bone instead of granite.
"So, what was it you gave me anyway? All I remember is that it tasted worse than anything I had ever had before."
Dean grimaced and Sam could have sworn he saw him shudder. "I'm not gonna tell ya. Just trust me on this, Sam. You don't want to know."