Actions

Work Header

Their Big Day

Work Text:

SNSNSNSN

“This is just plain creepy, Sam.” Dean grabbed another little finger sandwich from a passing waiter, shoving the whole thing in his mouth and then continued to talk with his mouth full, “I mean…all those smiling faces and…and…people being happy…it’s just not natural.”

Sam nodded, because Dean was looking toward him, expecting a response, but he really wasn’t paying too much attention to his brother, who had snagged a little cracker topped with smoked salmon or something like it and stuffed it in.

“Weddings, man…but the grub's good.”

Sam watched the wedding guests mingle, looking for Sarah Roark, suspected witch with an axe to grind with the happy couple, but so far they hadn’t seen her.

“Ladies and gentlemen, please join us in the dining room for dinner.”

Sam looked to Dean at the announcement, because it was easy enough to crash the wedding, slipping into seats on the back row, following the crowd to the cocktail hour, but since they weren’t actually invited, they wouldn’t have place cards and reserved seats in their names.

“Relax, Sammy…there are always no shows and we’ll just give it some time and slip into those seats.”

Suddenly suspicious Sam asked, “Have you done this before, Dean?”

His brother gave a noncommittal grunt and followed the flow of happy, smiling people as they filled the ballroom, the very pink ballroom…flowers and tablecloths, candles and lighting, all pink, very, very pink.

“Oh, no way, man,” Dean grabbed Sam’s arm and pulled him toward the bar. “What kinda pussy lets…”

“It’s got to be her favorite color, Dean and traditionally the bride…”

“Screw tradition, Sammy…” Dean waited in line, ordering two beers once he got to the front, “If I every get married, the colors are gonna be blue or black or something manly.”

As if, Sam thought as Dean handed a beer to him, clinking the necks of the bottles together as he surveyed the room, but that got Sam to thinking…

Something old, something new, something borrowed something blue…

And then he said, “We need to find the bride,” grabbing Dean’s bottle before he could take more then a sip and putting them both down on the bar and said, “I bet she was given something, either something borrowed or something old…”

“What the hell are you talking about, Sam,” but his brother followed along behind him.

The party was just getting started, people sat at tables, nibbling salad and some danced to the band that had started up playing as soon as they entered the ballroom.

“Something…never mind…where would the wedding party be now?” Sam asked, winding through the throng of people between them and the exit.

“How the hell should I know,” Dean stopped though, looking toward the door at the back of the large room. “Don’t people have pictures taken and then enter after…doesn’t the DJ or someone announce the couple?”

But truthfully, Sam didn’t know. It wasn’t like he had ever been in or made it to any wedding before.

“Back there,” Dean said, looking toward a door in the rear of the room. “I bet they will come from back there.”

They both headed that way, Dean arriving first to turn the knob and looked down the hall on the other side. They both slipped through, following the hall to an open waiting area. Some of the bride’s maids and Groomsmen where standing around, looking bored, but the couple of the hour where no where in sight.

One of the women, decked out in a hideous pink dress, asked, “Hey, are you with the photographer?”

Sam opened his mouth, unsure how to answer, but Dean rushed out a, “yes…yes we are.”

“Then can you please see what the hell is taking so long? We’re all hot and we’ve been waiting here for like twenty minutes for the photographer to finish with Sherry and Shawn.”

“Who,” Dean asked, not following, but Sam got it.

“Yes, Sherry and Shawn, Dean…the bride and groom.”

“Right, right, I’ll just…go check then…and they were…”

“Out by the pond.”

“Right, of course, by the pond. Come on Sam, let’s see what’s taking so long,” and he grabbed Sam by the arm again, dragging him down the hallway and out the back door, to the back of the property and toward the pond they had seen during the ceremony.

The couple was standing, arm and arm, but they looked scared, too still.

When Sam and Dean ran up, their eyes were wide, but Shawn was able to roll them to the right, and when Sam looked he saw Sarah Roark running up a path, a professional camera hanging from her hand.

“I got her, you take care of them,” Dean called, as he high tailed it after the woman.

Sam took a hold of Shawn, but he wouldn’t budge, seemed rooted to the spot and then he tried Sherry, but she too was stuck, tears rolling down her cheeks and making her mascara run in demented black lines down her face.

Sam thought back to the poem, hands running up Sherry’s body. When she squeaked in horror, he said, “I’m not going to hurt you…did you borrow something for today? Do you have something old?”

She tried to move her arm, to show Sam something, but she couldn’t, so Sam yanked the pearls from her throat, dropping them to the ground, then he saw a matching bracelet and it joined the necklace.

He tossed her bouquet in the pile and pulled out his matches and lighter fluid, setting the small bundle ablaze, but the couple was still stuck and it seemed that now they both were having trouble breathing.

Sam searched Shawn’s pockets, adding an old looking watch and a hanky to the pile, but still no luck.

Think, Sam…think.

And then it came to him.

He yanked up her skirt and tried to lift her leg to pull the lacy garter away, but her legs were locked, her feet looked like they were becoming one with the grass below them, so he pulled out his pocket knife, kneeled down, head under the billows of skirts and material and that’s how Dean had found him.

“What the hell, Sammy?”

But Sam ignored him, cutting the garter away, backing out of the space under Sherry’s skirt and tossed the garter into the fire, noting the little dried flowers and tattered looking ribbon before it went up in smoke.

As soon as it was consumed, the bride and groom dropped boneless to the grass.

Sam caught Sherry, still kneeling close by her side and Dean made a grab for Shawn, keeping the man’s head from hitting the ground.

“Sarah Roark?” he said, knowing that Dean would understand what he was asking.

His brother shook his head, “She fell, rolled down a pretty rocky and steep incline…”

Dead then…and at least they didn’t have to make that choice, since she was a human.

Sherry sobbed against her new husband and both he and Dean moved to help them up, check for injuries, “I don’t…I don’t understand…that woman…what was she…”

“You don’t have to worry about her anymore,” Dean assured them. “She can’t hurt you now.”

Shawn nodded, still looking shell shocked, pulling his new wife in closer.

“Listen,” Sam tried. “I know this is a bit of a shock, but she's gone, she can’t hurt you now and you have a roomful of people waiting…”

Dean shot him a doubtful look, but Sam didn’t know what else to do.

He could See Shawn pulling himself together, not fully understanding what had just happen, but happy for a chance to forget about it all the same, “come on, honey…lets get you cleaned up and into the hall. People will start to worry…”

She nodded against his chest, wiping at her runny makeup with the back of her hands. “Thank you for…well, thank you…please, won’t you join us…it’s the least we can do.’

And that was how Sam and Dean had found themselves sitting at a round table, decked out with pink flowers and table ware, chatting with a bunch of strangers about mundane things, but enjoying the steak, baked potato and green beans.

"Still creepy," Dean whispered and Sam nodded, because this had to have been one of the most bizarre cases they had ever taken. "But, look...they're cutting the cake...come on."

So Sam sighed, followed along, took a plate of cake and watched as his brother devoured his piece.

The reception was...nice, despite the little road bump of a crazed witch out to get any and all happy couples, but he was ready to go...knew that he was never likely to be on the other side of the receiving line and neither was Dean “Come on, lets hit the road...I've had enough of weddings to do me a life time."

And Dean nodded, snagging another plate of cake before moving toward the exit. "Yeah, let’s get outta here and let them enjoy the rest of their big day."

SNSNSNSN