#Maria stop announcing your age to the internet/your students challenge

[itspileofgoodthings]

last day of being 28

[revwinchester]

Spring Break

Summary: Now that he’s in college, Sam goes on his first ever vacation but when a supernatural creature threatens his friend, Sam has to jump back into the life he had tried so hard to leave behind.

Character(s): Sam Winchester, Tyson Brady, Zach Warren

Word Count: 2478

Warnings: Language, Canon typical violence

A/N: So, I was selected to write a fic for an anthology of fanfic that’s being put together over at @spnshortstories - you should go check it out - and I wrote this piece for that but it ended up being twice the word limit (apparently, I’m a wordy bitch...) and I couldn’t figure out how to cut out half of the words without losing anything important for the story.  So instead I started from scratch on that project and wrote some fun Gabriel/Trickster fluff.  Now that book fic 2.0 has been submitted, you get to read the originally intended story, which is a case!fic set in the cannonverse during the time Sam was in Stanford.  I also edited it to include one of this week’s SPN Hiatus Challenge prompts (thanks to @thing-you-do-with-that-thing for hosting and for the inspiration every week), which is “you’re supposed to talk me out of this” and is in bold in the fic.

TL;DR: This was written for a book and was too long so you get to read it here instead.

Spring Break - 

Brady hadn’t believed his ears when Sam had mentioned he’d never been on vacation.  After finally convincing his friend that it was true, Sam watched in awe as Brady pulled out his cellphone and called someone to make arrangements.  He hung up less than ten minutes later and announced that Sam should find a part time job because they were going to Tijuana for spring break.

���My parents own a timeshare,” he offered as an explanation.

Sam nodded like he understood even though he had no idea what Brady was talking about.

Nevertheless, spring break rolled around and Sam was riding shotgun in Brady’s car.  Brady was behind the wheel and their friend Zach was in the back seat as they made the eight and a half hour drive to Tijuana, Mexico.  They crossed the border without any issues and soon enough, Brady was parking outside of a well appointed condominium.

The boys had left early in the morning so it was only about 2 PM when they arrived.  They quickly unpacked the car and got changed for the beach.

As they walked toward their destination, Sam noticed dark looks on the locals’ faces.  It was a look that went beyond a native person’s disdain for potentially unruly tourists but before he could think too hard about it, Sam felt himself getting pulled into a building.  Apparently, Zach had decided that, since they were of legal drinking age in Mexico, the only way to start their vacation was with tequila shots.  Each of the boys bought a round and the three shots in quick succession worked up a good buzz as they continued their walk to the beach.

Sam couldn’t help but notice the darkness on people’s faces again.  It was a familiar look. One he had seen in so many small, no-name towns across America; one he had worked hard to forget.  Sam did his best to brush it off, to ignore those faces and focus on the smiling tourists.  Hunting wasn’t his life anymore, would never be his life again if he had any say in the matter.  He was Sam Winchester, college student, Stanford University pre-law class of 2005, and he was sure a hunter would catch wind of whatever was happening here and come deal with it.

The three boys settled in on the beach.  Sam was reading through a guide book, thinking about the next few days while Brady and Zach were trying - and failing - to pick up girls using their meager high school Spanish skills.  Every so often they would splash into the water; it was still on the cold side so they never lasted log before retreating to the sunny beach to warm up.  Their afternoon continued on in much the same manner until the sound of music began wafting down to the beach.  The three began walking across the sand toward the road that would get them back to their condo when Zach stopped.

“You guys hear that?” Zach asked. Craning his neck around to look for the source of whatever had caught his attention.  “It sounds like there’s a baby crying.”

Sam listened but all he could hear was the sounds pumping from the bars and restaurants further up the beach.  “It’s probably just something in the music, man,” Sam surmised and continued his trek towards the road.

They got back to their condo and started getting ready for diner.  Sam grabbed the first shower and was dressed and watching the news before Zach and Brady were ready.  Sam was following along with the subtitles for the beginning of a story about a rash of missing people when Brady flipped the tv off.  “You watch enough of that depressing shit at Stanford.  You’re on vacation, give it up for a week! 

Brady wasn’t wrong; Sam did watch a lot of news back in the dorms.  He told himself it was to keep abreast of what was happening in the world but, in reality, it was a habit from his hold life that he hadn’t broken.  Sam’s job had been to check tv and internet news sources for potential cases for their dad while Dean would read through any number of print news sources.  Brady was right, though, this was vacation - Sam’s first vacation - he could take a break from the world.

Once all three were ready, Sam, Brady, and Zach made their way back out into the city in search of dinner and drinks.  They popped into a few bars and by midnight they were stumbling towards the beach with a couple of local girls when Zach started looking around almost frantically.

“It’s still here somewhere!”  When no one else helped him look, Zach turned back to his friends.  “You still say you don’t hear that?  There’s a freaking baby crying somewhere on the beach!”

“You’re drunk!” Brady shouted at his friend but the girl he had his around around turned to him with a terrified look.

“Take your friend home, lock him inside,” she pleaded, “and then leave this city first thing tomorrow.”

Brady turned to her.  “No way!  It’s spring break and we’re just getting started!  Are you tired of me already?” he asked.

“My sister is afraid of an old tale our Abuela told us; a horror story,” the other girl said, rolling her eyes.  

The two girls had a quick conversation in Spanish.  Sam couldn’t make out much but from the girls’ faces and voices he could figure out they were talking about this story.  One word was repeated a few times: “ahuizotl.”

Sam interrupted the girls, his hunter’s instincts on high alert.  “I don’t think the guys introduced us back at the bar, I’m Sam,” he started, needing some kind of in with the sisters, who smiled and introduced themselves as Maria and Valentina.

Sam turned to Maria, the sister who believed her grandmother’s story.  “I really love folklore and local legends,would you tell me about it?  The ahuizotl?”

Valentina rolled her eyes again but Maria looked up at Sam.  “The ahuizotl is like a dog but with hands.  It has two hands where its front paws should be and a third, very strong hand at the end of its tail,” she explained.  “It lives in the waters but hunts from small caves near the water and it lures its… las presas,” Maria turned to her sister for help.

“Prey, victims,” Valentina provided.

“Yes, it lures its victims by crying like a baby.  Then it will grab them with the tail hand and swim into the water to eat their skin and nails,” Maria concluded.

Valentina laughed at her sister’s serious tone.  “Don’t forget the eyeballs.  Abuela said the ahuizotl's favorite was eyeballs.”

Sam could hear the teasing in Valentina’s voice and it made him miss his own brother but he pressed on.  “Did your abuela ever mention how to kill it?” he asked as casually as he could.  Usually he wouldn’t ask that question so quickly or bluntly but if the thing was already after his friend, Sam needed to know how to take it out.  He hoped Maria and Valentina would chalk his curiosity up to the alcohol he had consumed.

Valentina looked at him like he was crazy.  “It’s just a story, Sam.”

“Right,” Sam forced a laugh, “yeah.  Thanks for telling it.”

They pulled Zach away from the beach, Brady assuring him there wasn’t a baby as he ushered the group towards another bar.  The five of them continued with their night but a cloud was hanging over Sam now and he could see the same darkness in Maria’s face, too.

At the next bar, Maria sat beside Sam.  “You look sad, Sam.  I should have never told that story.  My sister is right, it’s just a, um...” she searched for a word, “a tall tale.”

Sam looked her in the eye.  “You don’t believe that and neither do I.  This thing is after my friend and I’m gonna stop it.”

Maria smiled sadly up at Sam.  “How” she asked, clearly humoring what she assumed to be the whims of a drunk man.

“I don’t know,” Sam admitted, defeated.

Sam and his friends made their way back to their condo.  Brady and Zach went to bed but Sam booted up his computer and spend the rest of the night researching.  When Brady stumbled out of his room the next morning, Sam still didn’t know how to specifically kill an ahuizotl but, despite that, he had a plan.

“Beach again today?” Sam asked.

Brady grunted, searching the cabinets for something.  He pulled a small bag out with a tired but victorious smile.  “Coffee first.”

Soon the scent of coffee lured Zach out of his bedroom, too.  Instead of going back to the beach right away, the boys decided to hang out poolside at the condo until Brady and Zach were less hungover.  Sam forced himself to sit still and relax, even managing to catch a nap in one of the lounge chairs.

Sam woke up a could of hours later.  He was alone at the pool but he quickly noticed a piece of paper and Sam recognized Brady’s handwriting:

Needed food.  Meet us at the beach, we’ll grab you lunch.

Sam scrambled up and started toward the beach, stopping in the condo and then a couple of shops and stores along the way to pick up the supplies that he needed.  He thought about his brother as he shopped and all the times that Dean had convinced Sam to let someone older and more experienced handle a hunt.  “You’re supposed to talk me out of this,” he mumbled, more to himself than to anyone else, though he intended the words for Dean and he wished his brother were here, now.  

When Sam got to the beach, he only saw Brady.  He trotted up to his friend and put his bags down in the sand.

“Morning Princess!” Brady joked.  “You sleep like the dead, man.  Zach tried to wake you before we left but you just weren’t having it.”

Sam laughed.  He had only learned to be a heavy sleeper since going to Stanford.  A hunter always needed to be on guard, even while asleep, his dad had said.  “Yeah, well, I didn’t sleep much last night,” Sam admitted.  “Where’s Zach?”

“Oh,” Brady rolled his eyes, “he claimed to hear that damn baby again and he went to check it out.”  He looked down the beach toward a rocky outcrop.  “That was about 20 minutes ago.  Honestly, I figured he’d give up by now.”

“Shit,” Sam muttered under his breath.  It would seem that he was out of time.  He gathered up his bags before he spoke, louder this time so Brady could hear.  “I’ll go take a look for him.”

Sam walked towards the rocks that Brady had looked toward earlier.  When he reached them he put the bags down, donned a head-lamp style flashlight, and began assembling a makeshift blowtorch.  He didn't know how to properly kill an ahuizotl but he hadn’t heard of any creature that could survive being burnt to a crisp.

Sam carefully waded out into the water, holding his weapon above his head to keep it dry as he followed the edge of the rocks.  After a few minutes of wading, he was up to his waist in the sea water and he came to a point where he turned a corner and couldn’t see the shore anymore.  Sam was on high alert now as he continued to follow the shape of the rock face.  The rocks curved again, towards shore, but instead of seeing another part of the beach, Sam found himself in a private cove with a cave opening about 15 yards away.  Sam steeled himself for a fight and cautiously made his way into the cave, flipping on the flashlight he wore on his head.

The cave wasn’t very deep and as Sam looked around his light fell onto Zach’s unconscious form.  He hurried to approach his friend and free him from what looked like seaweed that was binding his hands and feet.  Sam kneeled and put his weapon down on the dry rock beside Zach.  He needed to get his friend out of here before the next high tide.  Just as he finished ripping through the dense plants around Zach’s ankles, Sam felt something grabbing at his own leg.

Sam kicked back hard and reached for the flame thrower.  He managed to disengage and turn toward his attacker just in time to see a long, strong limb dart out of the water and grab at him.  Sam dodged and backed up as far as he could.  He had to lure the thing out of the water if he wanted to stand a chance against it.

Luck was on Sam’s side, it seemed, and the ahuizotl followed Sam onto dry land.  He threw some of the flame thrower’s fuel onto the creature as he dodged another attack from the tail hand, feinting his way behind it so that he stood between the ahuizotl and the cave’s mouth.  Sam ignited the flame thrower and pointed the fire at the creature.  The thing screeched and squealed but Sam used ite flames to keep it away from the safety of the water until it wasn’t moving or making any sound. 

Sam flipped off the weapon and slowly approached the ahuizotl, poking at it with the muzzle of the flame thrower and making sure it was dead.

“Sam?” a familiar but scratchy voice croaked.

Sam froze in his spot.  He had hoped to get Zach out of the cave, at least, before he woke up.  He’d been prepared to tell his friend he’d gotten caught in a rip tide and nearly drowned.  Cruel, maybe, but better than Zach knowing what had really happened to him.

Sam splashed over to his friend and tore at the rest of the seaweed that was binding him.  

“What happened?” Zach asked, “and was that a flame thrower?”

Sam’s hands didn’t falter as he dealt with the rest of the seaweed and helped Zach to his feet.  “Nah, man, you’re wasted,” he improvised, “this is all a tequila induced hallucination.” 

Zach blinked a few times and reached out, poking Sam’s arm.  “Woah, you’re really solid for a hallucination.”

“Yeah, well, you’ve got a really good imagination,” Sam lied as he led Zach out of the cave and around the rocks.  Once they got to shore, Sam checked him over for a concussion.  Certain that Zach was just groggy and not actually hurt, Sam decided that there were two things he needed to do.  First, he needed to get Zach drunk enough that he would actually chalk the past few hours up to booze.  Then he would pray that neither of his friends found themselves this close to the supernatural ever again.

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