RIDING THE STORM OUT
By: Karen B.
Summary: Season Ten finale warning. It was coming and headed straight for them, a rolling, boiling, black, wide-mouthed monster plowing over everything in its path. Rock on Supernatural!
Disclaimer: Not the owner.
Darkness cannot drive out darkness; only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate; only love can do that. ~ Martin Luther King Junior
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He was panicked. There was nowhere to go. It was coming and headed straight for them, a rolling, boiling, black, wide-mouthed monster plowing over everything in its path.
"Dean," Sam yelled over the loudness of roaring wind and angry bursts of buzzing. "It's headed straight for us." He turned in his seat to stare out the back window.
"Don't you think I can see that, Sam," Dean yelled still hanging out the side of his open door. "Shit." He let up on the gas and stared dumbly at the deep mud pit Baby was stuck in.
Bzzzzzzzz.
Like a giant, angry coil of livewires the buzzing grew louder, the sweltering summer heat of the day turning damn near Icelandic.
Dean shivered hard and glanced up, swallowing and squinting against the specks of gritty dirt and gravel whapping him in the face.
Things got real ugly, real fast, the black cloud raging war inside itself - void of endlessness. For a heartbeat it seemed to hold Dean's gaze prisoner as it twisted and turned in a maniac, chaotic swirl building in strength and in size. Adrenalin coursed through his veins, muscles tight. Years of experience and instinct telling him to go for his gun, the salt, the holy water, but knowing that would be pointless. Dean forced himself to calm down even though his skin prickled; standing his hair on end as an eerie empty feeling came over him. This wasn't like any supernatural being, or storm, or cavern, or tear in the universe he'd ever seen before. Those things would at least be something. The darkness was just that – darkness - and full of hell-bent, violent, frenzied, brainless, nothingness.
"Dean, we need to get out of the car." Sam's panicked scream and the sound of his passenger door creaking open snapped Dean back with it.
"No!" Dean pulled his door shut. "Don't." He reached across to grip Sam's forearm yanking him back inside the car. "Strap in, little brother," he ordered, buckling his seatbelt and leaning as far back in his own seat as he could, gripping the steering wheel tight, arms outstretched and locked at the elbows.
"What are we doing?" Sam squawked, pulling his door shut and mimicking his brother, clicking in, and leaning far back in his seat.
"Riding the storm out," Dean exclaimed, biting his lower lip as he watched the rushing black cloud ascend upon them in the rearview mirror. "Get ready, Sammy," he warned.
"Crap." Sam worriedly clutched the edges of his seat.
The jolt was so hard the Impala popped a wheelie, setting her upright on her ass end. "Yee-haw," Dean rebel yelled in true 'Dukes Of Hazard' fashion as they were shoved out of the mud pit and rocketed down the road. "Fly, Baby, fly," Dean muttered, seeing nothing but sky and fighting with the steering wheel.
"Dude, she's no Transformer," Sam snipped.
"She's better," Dean deadpanned peering out the side window. "You see cows?" he asked, half-joking, half-serious.
Sam just gaped at his insane brother, while The Darkness bellowed behind them. A massive, snorting, electrified beast.
Like a veritable ocean wave shoving a shell up onto the beach, it pushed the Impala shifting them this way and that. The sky filled with white-blue lightning, dropping golf ball-sized hail in biblical proportions. Trees uprooted, farmhouses too. Dean winced waiting for the usual debris to smack into his Baby, but there was no debris. Things just got sucked away and disappeared into thin air.
"How's that go?" Dean frowned.
"It's eating anything and everything, animate or inanimate with an appetite that knows no bounds," Sam responded, nose pressed to his window and looking out.
"Son of a bitch," Dean growled, fighting with the wheel to keep them steady and staring down at the speedometer that had reached its max.
Suddenly, an explosive burst of wind blew out the back windshield spraying the back of their heads with glass.
"You bitch," Dean shouted, flinching as the sonic force slammed the Impala back down to all fours, still racing her down the road.
"Gah," Sam hunched forward hands raised defensively trying to block the large chunks of shattering glass whizzing past like bullets.
Vicious wind roared like a thousand freight trains whipping through the car. The Darkness flanked them left, then right, keeping Baby in its grip and snaking around them.
"Dean!" Sam looked over at his brother.
Dean's face was washed out and his jaw clenched tight with fear – a habit he'd spent a lifetime trying to break.
Sam recklessly fumbled to unbuckle his belt sliding across the seat, hands reaching out to grab the wheel.
"What the hell, man?" Dean shot Sam a venomous look out of the corner of his eye. "Buckle back in," he demanded.
"You need help keeping her steady." Sam tightened his hold and stiffened his body, daring Dean to stop him.
"Dude," Dean growled deep and gravelly. "Buckle back in before I pull this car over and beat the crap out of you again and –"
A deep, throaty, deafening rumble could be heard and a strange, dank smell flowed through the vehicle.
"Oh! MY! Gah!" Sam gasped for breath, eyes watering. "What is that smell?"
Keeping his hands glued to the steering wheel and eyes glued to the road, Dean turned his head slightly and gagged against his arm. "Smells like F.A.N," he mumbled, sweaty palms slipping off the wheel.
Before Sam could even ask what the hell that was, Baby was lifted off the ground then lowered, then lifted again.
"We're off to see The Wizard," Sam hollered, throwing all his weight against Dean, unable to keep the wheel in control any longer either.
"Not happening," Dean retorted. "You didn't pack your blue gingham and red shoes, Sammy," he paused, quirking a brow. "Course there's that glittery chick with the wand. Glinda –"
"Damn it, Dean, upstairs brain!" Sam protested, twisting to look over his shoulder through the broken back window at the tornadic-type winds.
The Impala fishtailed out of control, but Dean managed to get hold of the steering wheel once more.
"We can't outrun it," Sam yelled over the whistling wind.
"Don't bet on it," Dean slammed on the brakes, sending Baby into a tailspin, shooting her like a Top off to the right – away from The Darkness and into a tall grassy pasture.
Both the brothers' gripped the steering wheel fighting to keep Baby from being overturned.
Behind them came the scraping screech of what sounded like claws on metal, then the wind changed direction and an increase of speed sent them spinning off faster, like a real-life Tasmanian Devil.
"Don't panic, Sammy," Dean yelled.
"Too late for that," Sam whispered, tilting closer to Dean.
TBC….