title: If He Be Worthy
characters: Sam, Dean
summary: Sam really enjoyed wielding Mjölnir
Ever since that day, he couldn't stop thinking about it. The weight of it, the feel of it as he brought it crashing down on one monster after another, the lightning coursing through it and through him. Sam had picked up Mjölnir as an afterthought -- it had been convenient, it had been right there next to him, and Mr. Vili's grip wasn't strong enough to keep it from him.
Once his fingers had closed around the hammer, Sam had felt something he hadn't felt in a long, long time. An utterly complete feeling of righteousness. He'd brought the hammer crashing down on the gods and monsters around him without a single doubt that what he was doing was right. Mjölnir's purifying force tore through his enemies, tore them apart, and Sam felt nothing but a deep sense of satisfaction.
He dreamt of the hammer that night, and when he opened his eyes he thought he was still dreaming. Mjölnir was lying next to him, resting on his pillow. He reached out, ran his finger along the triquetra decorating its side. His fingers tingled with the promise of a storm. He wrapped his hand around it and lifted it up, bringing it close to his chest. Then he fell back to sleep dreaming of glorious battles.
At first, he kept it hidden from Dean. He wasn't sure why, exactly. Maybe Dean wouldn't want him carrying around the weapon of a Norse god, or maybe he just didn't like the idea of Dean, or anyone else, touching it. He hid the hammer deep in his duffle-bag, wrapped in several of his shirts.
It was during their next fight that he couldn't keep it a secret anymore. They were tracking a pack of chupacabra (that ended up being two packs of chupacabra), and Dean had run out of ammo. Sam thought of the hammer, and suddenly there it was --flying through the air and right into his grip. He brought it crashing down on the herd, one mangy head after another. He took them down 3 at a time, 4 at a time, until there was nothing left of the beasts beyond a small sad pile of smoldering fur.
Dean gave him funny looks the whole way back to their motel, but said nothing until they stepped out of the car. "Did you have that with you since the auction?"
"Seemed like a good idea. It's a great weapon." Sam stepped into their motel room, behind Dean and sat on his bed to pull off his boots.
Dean's eyes narrowed as he walked closer to his brother. "You decide to just stop shaving all of a sudden?"
That wasn't the question Sam had expected. "Huh?"
"Your beard's coming in a bit thick there, dude." Dean jabbed his finger towards Sam's face.
Sam ran his fingers across his chin and over his lip and shrugged. "Yeah, I guess. I kinda like it."
Dean scoffed and headed for the bathroom.
The next morning, when Sam came out of the shower, Dean gave him another funny look. "Okay what the hell?"
Sam stared at him, confused.
"You been sneaking out at night to go work out at the 24 hour gym or something?"
Sam looked down at himself, and noticed that his chest was much broader than it had been a few days ago. On top of that, his abdominals were far more pronounced than they'd ever been and his arms were thicker than they'd been in years. "Uh. No."
Dean hopped off his bed and headed for the refrigerator. "So this is the result of what then -- eating rabbit food?"
Sam thought of Mjölnir, of how strong it made him feel, and knew instantly why his body had started to change. "I need to be able to wield it."
"Wield? What the hell kind of a word is wield? Wield what? Your little hammer?" Dean grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge, and turned back to Sam.
"Little?" Sam felt offended on the hammer's behalf, and briefly considered picking it up just to make a point. It flew into his hand obediently.
Dean raised his eyebrow, looking at the hammer suspiciously. "Okay, your big hammer."
"And its name is Mjölnir."
"Meow-- that's nice. Why does it have a name?"
"Because it deserves one." Sam took a breath, and put Mjölnir back down gently on his pillow. "So what do we have planned today? Any more chupacabras?"
"No, I think we got 'em all," Dean said taking a sip of the water. "But I did find something worth checking out." He turned the laptop around so Sam could take a look.
Pulling a t-shirt on over his head, Sam flexed his shoulders back, wondering why the shirt felt so tight. He walked over to peer at the computer. After reading the story Dean had pulled up he asked, "We're thinking...water spirit?"
Dean nodded. " Nixe probably, or an Undine. Nocturnal, whatever it is. It's been taking two or three people a week for the last month, though. It's a two-day drive away. We should go check out its hunting grounds as soon as we get there." He stopped a foot away from Sam and squinted. "Since when are your eyes blue?"
The water spirit was hunting at a large, but out of the way lake. It was so far off the road that a Nixe seemed more and more likely. Its home just didn't look like a place that was frequented all that often, especially at night. But a Nixe's call could bring people running from miles away.
They parked as close to the lake as they could get, but had to take the rest of the path by foot. It was overgrown and dense with trees. Only a few steps in they started to hear the Nixe's cry. Luckily they'd both brought protection. Sage and linden flowers kept the magic from taking hold. Unfortunately the herbs had to be ingested continuously for the protection to last. Dean had made them both little bottles of the two herbs mixed together, which they had to keep chewing every few minutes. And his assessment that they 'tasted like ass,' wasn't that far off at all.
When they reached the edge of the lake, Sam took another big mouthful of the herb mix and held Mjölnir's handle tightly. To his credit, Dean hadn't even made a comment when Sam had brought the hammer along. Nixe's were tricky to kill, because of their speed, but everything else aside, they were mortal. If you hit them hard enough, they'd go down. In theory. Monsters often had a loophole or ten.
It was cold, and Sam could see his breath on the air. Dean walked ahead of him, chewing on his mouthful of herbs with a look of mild herb-related disgust on his face. He stopped suddenly, waited for Sam to step up next to him, and pointed.
Ahead of them, the dark surface of the lake rippled. The moon was nearly full, and it's reflection quivered with the water's surface as something just under the surface swam by.
Sam cocked his head, listening, and tightened his grip on Mjölnir. The air around his fingers crackled with the promise of a storm, and he couldn't help but smile at the battle to come. The water rippled again, and Sam leapt forward, crashing into the water, hammer aimed straight at where the Nixe's head had to be. He missed. The water-beast was fast, and it swam circles around him angrily, furious that he had resisted its lure.
Dean let out a stream of curses, and ran around the edge of the lake, tracking the Nixe's movements, and Sam's. "It's circling around you! Stay still, wait for it to come by and smash!" Dean aimed his crossbow and fired an arrow just to Sam's left, at the exact moment the Nixe should have swam past. It was faster than his arrow, and he missed his mark.
Sam swung for the Nixe again and again, but Mjölnir hit only water. After the fifth miss, he started to get angry. "Hold still, dammit!" he snapped, watching the beast circle around him again.
"There's another one!" Dean yelled, watching the second circle form around the first. "Sam, careful, they're gonna get bored of playing with you soon. They're poison -- one bite, one scratch, you're going down."
"No. They're going down. Not me." Sam stopped swinging the hammer and held it straight up into the air. Lighting crackled around him, thunder crashed, and Mjölnir started to glow. "Stay clear of the water, Dean!" Sam yelled out. Then, with a great sweep of his arm, Sam brought Mjölnir down into the water, along with enough lightning to fry a half dozen Nixe. The lake sizzled with electricity as Mjölnir's magic flowed through it. Then the water fell still, and three very charred Nixe floated to the surface, their over-wide mouths open, baring their fangs, even in death.
Dean stood watching from the shore, and shook his head in disbelief. "Guess lightning does the trick. Good thing too, because the lore was mixed about what can kill these suckers."
Sam waded through the water, until he was standing across from Dean. "Lightning kills most things."
"But not you, huh?" Dean asked, an edge of bitterness in his voice.
"Nope." Sam grinned and twirled his hammer into the air once as he stepped back onto land.
"You need to dry off before I'll let you in the car, you know." Dean muttered as they headed back towards the Impala.
Sam tilted his head to the side for a second, then stopped walking and started turning Mjölnir in small, quick circles. He held it down by his feet just as it formed a miniature tornado. The sharp burst of air dried Sam's soaked boots and jeans within seconds.
Dean rolled his eyes. "It slices, it dices..."
"Actually, no. Those are probably the only two things it doesn't do." Sam said, as he climbed into the passenger's seat.
That night, Sam dreamt blissful dreams of glorious battle. He dreamt of defeating hordes single-handedly, Mjölnir smiting monsters by the dozens.
After the third time he heard Sam laughing to himself in his sleep, Dean turned on the light by his bed, stumbled out of his bed and stared at his brother. He had his hand wrapped loosely around the large hammer. Dean knew better than to try to take it from him, but that didn't mean he couldn't look.
There was a lengthy inscription running along the hammer's edge in Nordic runes. Dean grabbed a pad of the hotel stationery and a pen and started writing the runes down. Two hours of Internet translation later he read what he'd deciphered: "Whosoever holds this hammer, if he be worthy, shall possess the power of Thor."
"Son of a bitch," Dean muttered.
Sam woke up and glared at Dean for interrupting his beautiful dreams.
"It's a cursed object."
"What's a cursed object?" Sam asked, tightening his fingers around Mjölnir's handle.
"Your hammer! It's turning you into Thor."
Sam scoffed, and leaned over to flip on his own light.
"The beard, the muscles, the..." Dean stared at Sam and started laughing. Hard.
"What's so funny?" Sam asked.
Dean tried to answer, but instead ended up laughing again, so hard he started doubling over. He finally stopped long enough to say, "Look in a mirror!"
Sam swung his legs over the side of his bed and walked over to the bathroom. He looked in the mirror approvingly, noting his defined muscles, his even-wider-than-yesterday shoulders, his long blond hair.
From behind him, Dean started laughing again.
"What's so funny?" Sam asked again.
Dean's laugh cut off, and he pointed at Sam's head. "The-- the hair. Dude, your hair's blond! Like Point Break, surfer-douche blond!"
Shrugging, Sam brought his right arm up into a loose curl, watching his biceps and triceps shift. He'd added another inch to each overnight from the look of it. "I like it."
Dean didn't move out of the way, so Sam nudged him aside gently, walking back into the main room. "I like it. I don't care that it's blond." he picked Mjölnir up, tossing it gently into the air a few times, marveling at how much lighter it felt every day. "What are we hunting today?"
"We just finished a hunt," Dean said, sounding annoyed.
"Yes, so now we need another one."
"You know what? Even if we had another hunt, no way I'm letting you in my car with that hair."
Sam glared at him. "Is that a fact?" He pulled the largest t-shirt he owned out of his duffel, slipped it over his head, and then rolled his shoulders back a bit, to make sure it would hold. "Fine, I don't need a car anyway." Then he headed towards the door.
Dean pursed his lips. "What do you mean you don't need a car?"
Sam tossed Mjölnir from his left hand to his right, opened the door to their motel room, and stepped outside. Then he held the hammer in the air until thunder rumbled in the distance. The wind picked up around him faster and faster, lightning crashed down, coursing through the hammer and through him with the power of nature and of life itself. The wind circled around him in a funnel, and lifted him up into the air, carrying him away.
After his brother departed in a tornado, the door to their room slammed shut. Dean glared at it, and tried to decide if he should attempt to track his brother-carrying tornado, or try to research some way to undo what the hammer had done to Sam.
He flipped on the tv, just in case the news caught sign of a rogue tornado. Then he sat down on his bed with the laptop and started looking for answers. No matter what Sam said, he couldn't be happy like this. Not with the hair, and the oversized muscles and the hair. Geez, the hair.
An hour later, he had no leads, and his eyes were starting to feel heavy. He decided to get some coffee, climbed out of bed, put the laptop on the little table, went to grab his jacket and then froze.
There, lying on the middle of his bed, was a helmet. A golden helmet with long, curved horns.
From behind him, something on the news caught his attention. Dean turned towards the screen and grabbed the remote, raising the volume.
"...region has never seen a tornado. This one touched down about ten minutes ago, knocking over a bus of escaped convicts."
Dean watched in horror as the camera showed what was clearly Sam and his newly blond hair. "Oh come on. Like the hair wasn't bad enough." Things had gotten worse, so much worse. Sam was wearing silver armor and a red cape. Two more things to add to the ever-growing list of things his real brother would never have been caught dead in.
There had to be a way to fix this. Even if his research had pulled up nothing. There was a whispering noise from the bed, and Dean whipped his head back around to glare at the helmet. "What now?" he growled, and moved closer to the bed.
Thor needs his brother, the helmet whispered again.
Dean ran his fingers through his hair and smirked down at the helmet. "Yeah, I bet. But I ain't putting that on."