ellerkay: (Supernatural)
[personal profile] ellerkay
Title: A Boy and His Golem
Category: Gen
Characters: Aaron, the golem
Rating: G
Wordcount: ~1100
Disclaimer: All for fun, none for profit.
Spoiler warning: Through 8.13 "Everybody Hates Hitler"
Summary: Set not long after the episode. A little character piece about Aaron and the golem trying to work out their dynamic, which is not easy even after Aaron has taken charge.
A/N: Written for a friend, who does not watch SPN but loves golems and so watched this episode with me. He asked me to keep an eye out for any fic with the golem; I thought I'd do him one better and write some myself. Hope you like it, man.

“There is a man at the door.”

“Yeah, I know. It’s just the pizza guy. Go – would you go stand in the bathroom? You freak people out when you hover behind me.”

The golem walked away. Aaron yanked open the door once he was out of sight and quickly paid for his food.

As soon as the door was shut, the golem clomped back into the room.

“Rabbi. You should not send me out of the room. He could have been a Thule.”

“He was just a delivery guy! And I keep telling you, I’m not a rabbi.”

“He could have been an enemy in disguise. And you are my rabbi.”

Aaron sighed and settled himself on the bed, digging into a slice of pizza. “But I’m not a rabbi. I mean, this is pepperoni, for crying out loud.”

The golem made a disgusted face, but didn’t comment for once. He paced back and forth in front of the dresser.

“I have always called my masters ‘rabbi.’ You are my master. Your name is on my scroll. Even though you do not speak the language of your people, and you ingest shellfish – ”

“Yeah, I know how you feel about shellfish. A whole restaurant knows how you feel about shellfish. And now I can never go to that Red Lobster again,” Aaron said, putting down the pizza and sighing. “This isn’t easy on me either, you know. Do you have any idea what it’s like to just wake up one day and be told you have this destiny to fulfill?”


Aaron blinked. “Okay, yeah. I guess you would. Sorry.”

The golem didn’t reply, but kept pacing. Aaron jumped off the bed and stepped in front of him.

“Stop, just stop!”

“Stop what?”

“Stop pacing!”

The golem stopped.

“Thank you,” Aaron said. “That makes me really anxious.”

“You should have asked me to stop earlier.”

“I have asked you to stop!”


“Last night!”

The golem considered this. “No,” he said finally. “Last night you said, ‘Wouldn’t you like to sit down?’”

“That was passive-aggressive for ‘stop pacing already.’”

“You must be specific. If you want me to do something, or not do something, be clear. I will do it without hesitation.”

Aaron took a step back, running a hand through his hair. “You will?” he said.


“I didn’t know that.”

“I am your golem. You are my rabbi. That is how it works.”

“But you know I don’t know how it works!”


Aaron exhaled sharply, sitting on the bed again. “I know you’re angry with me for not knowing how this goes. I know you’re disappointed, and that I’m a terrible rabbi. But the pages are gone and I can’t bring them back, and I don’t know how to get better at being your rabbi if you won’t help me!”

The golem looked at him silently. Finally, Aaron picked up his pizza again, taking a bite and chewing it morosely.

“There may be a way we can recover the pages,” the golem said. Aaron stared at him, mouth gaping open to reveal half-masticated food.


“You smoked the pages. You took them into your body. They are magic, and your birthright. They imprinted on your. With the correct spell, we may be able to reconstruct them.”

“Do – do you know the spell?” Aaron gasped.

“No. But I know the book in which it is contained. Call your friends, the Men of Letters. The last I heard, the book was in their library.”

Aaron jumped up and grabbed his phone, scrolling quickly through his contacts for the number the Winchesters had given them.


Aaron looked up. “Yuh?”

“You are not a terrible rabbi.”

“I’m not?”

“You want to improve. I know that you are trying.”

Aaron flushed. “Is that why you’re telling me about this spell now?”


Aaron quickly went back to his phone.


Sam Winchester read him the spell, very slowly. Aaron copied it down, praying his Hebrew wasn’t so bad he would mess it up and blow them to pieces or something. He’d been brushing up since he inherited the golem, but he still wasn’t very good.

He gathered the supplies (which included his own blood; Aaron nearly fainted when he had to slice into his arm), and ran his pronunciation by the golem, who actually corrected it without complaint.

When he was done, Aaron was worried that nothing had happened. He hadn’t felt anything; there had been no thunder or flickering of the lights or any of the things he’d half-expected.

“Did it work?” he asked the golem. The golem merely pointed to the notebook on the table in front of him. The spell had instructed him to procure “virgin pages,” onto which the reconstructed text was supposed to appear. Aaron had bought a Mead composition book.

He opened it now. To his relief, the pages were filled with Hebrew lettering. He tried to read it, but he was too nervous to focus properly.

“Is this right?” he asked the golem. The golem stared at him. “Please, just…come take a look?”

The golem moved to loom behind him.

“Yes,” he said. “These are the pages.”

“What does it say?” Aaron asked, without thinking. He flinched when he realized what he’d said. “Um, you know what – never mind. I’ve got a Hebrew dictionary right here, I’ll start plugging away – ”

The golem tapped a phrase, which was at the top of a page, larger than the rest of the text.

“This says, ‘The Needs of the Golem,’” he said.

Adam turned around, and looked up – up – up, into the golem’s eyes. “You have…needs?”


“Why didn’t you mention that? I asked you when you first woke up if – ”

“I remember.” The golem was silent for a moment. “My needs are very few. They can be put aside, until the rabbi is ready.”

Aaron frowned. “The rabbi is ready!” he said. “Come on, man. Give me a little credit.” He looked at the golem expectantly. The golem looked back at him.

Aaron sighed and gazed at the book. He started to run his hand through his hair, then stopped. He pushed back from the desk and rose to his feet. He looked directly into his golem’s face.

“Tell me your needs,” he said, slowly and clearly. And added, “Please,” because his mother had raised him to be polite to everyone and he was pretty sure she would have included people made out of clay, if she’d believed in them.

The golem was – no – was it? – almost – smiling. “Yes, rabbi,” he said.
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