The phone rang, and Marcus' grip tightened.
Their lives might depend on this one call, and there was no way to know if it would even connect to this 'Dean Winchester' fellow or if he'd be available or if he changed phone numbers recently, or any number of problems that could crop up.
After all, they had no idea where they were, no idea what had happened, and there was a good chance they were out of reach of anyone that could help.
The call to Jo Harvelle had already failed, and all attempts to reach her mother Ellen were the same.
"Please, please, please," came from beside Marcus, and he reached out a comforting hand to clasp her shoulder and pull her close.
"Jo always says Dean's never let her down once," he murmured gently as he rubbed the shoulder of his wife of four years. "If anyone can help, it'll be him."
The phone hit its fourth ring, and Marcus could feel despair starting to creep in, expecting the disconnected dial tone, identical to what they'd gotten from Jo and Ellen, to kick in at last, tugging away their last hope away and beating it to pieces.
Then, there was a click.
"Ghostbusters."
SUPERNATURAL
If there was ever a hunt gone wrong, this one was it.
They'd tracked the wendigo to its lair up in northern Minnesota and had found two of the four missing campers, trussed up in what Marcus could only assume was the thing's 'pantry.'
They didn't have the heart to tell the two kids where their friends were, and concentrated all efforts on getting them out and avoiding the two new skeletons that adorned the floor of the main cave.
The plan was to get them clear to some friends Marcus and Maggie had waiting back at their truck. Not hunters, but people who could get the vics clear and to a hospital while the hunters returned to the cave network and killed off the thing that was responsible for so many deaths, dating back almost two hundred years.
That was the plan, but in life nothing was ever that simple.
A mile out from the cave, one of the victims started shrieking in panic, and that was where it all went to hell.
Maybe she'd realized where her boyfriend had gone, and why he wasn't with them. Maybe it all caught up to her at once, or she didn't like the sight of the shotgun in Maggie's hand.
Whatever the reason, she'd ripped free of Maggie's grip and dashed off into the underbrush, the young hunter on her tail as she plunged heedlessly into danger.
Like fools, Marcus and the second vic, some teenage kid, had followed.
Marcus never saw what did it. One second he was behind his wife, his hunting partner since the beginning, charging through the bushes-
-the next, the world flipped upside down.
The sun overhead was gone. In its place, fluorescent lights burned hundreds of feet up in the air, a grey sky bordering long rows of identical lights. Trees and foliage had transformed into furniture, grass and discarded leaves into thick strands of carpet and a long tile pathway…
Massive furniture, taller than most buildings. Carpet that could reach past their ankles. A walkway made for a god.
The four of them had stood there, even the girl in her panic, taking it all in. The influx of new details was too much, and the scale rendered their environment alien, inhospitable. Treacherous to try and cross.
Then came the earthquakes, and nothing else mattered.
Maggie and the teenage boy were the first to react- Marcus never had gotten the kids names before this all went down. They were the only ones thinking straight after everything. The second Maggie realized just what- who- was making that earthquake, she'd grabbed the girl, the boy grabbed Marcus, and everyone went under the first cover they found.
And so, here they were. Hiding. Watching the thin slit of light that spanned the front of the dresser they hid under. Beyond that slit of light, monsters of a new breed lurked.
Giants.
The latest to walk by, wearing a pair of white sneakers with mud splatters staining the bottom white sole of rubber and with the loose shoelaces whipping through the air at every titanic step, paused by their dresser. Marcus found himself caught in a staring contest with them, to the point where the gruff, annoyed voice on the phoneline piped up again.
"Hello? If this is some kinda joke, Sam, I'm sonot in the-"
"No!" Marcus blurted, briefly panicking at the thought that their only lifeline in this place might hang up out of frustration.
There was silence over the line, so Marcus blundered on, his heart in his throat as he glanced at those gigantic sneakers to see if the giant had heard him.
No reaction.
"No, please," Marcus said in a hush, almost begging. A proud hunter, reduced to begging. "My name's Marcus. My wife an' I are on a hunt., and something went wrong. A… mutual friend of ours gave me your number a while back, and now you're the only person we can reach. You've gotta help."
"What mutual friend? "
Marcus let out a breath of relief, pent-up tension in him released now that Dean was listening. He wasn't just going to hang up on them. Some hunters might. They were an ornery bunch, depending on the day and what emergencies they might be dealing with.
Paranoid bastards, every last one of them.
"Jo. Jo Harvelle. I hunted with her and her mom, Ellen."
There was another pause, enough time for the massive pair of sneakers to turn and thud away.
Sighing in relief, Marcus turned his full attention to Dean as he began talking again.
"Yeah, I knew her. What's goin' on? "
Marcus swallowed, then told his story.
"Me and Maggie were on a hunt up in Minnesota. Wendigo was taking some campers, real nasty bit of work. We found the survivors, got them out, and then it all changed."
"Changed? What do you mean, changed?"
Marcus found it encouraging that Dean sounded curious, not disbelieving. "We were running, and then we hit some bushes, and it was all… gone. Now we're hiding in some weird 'Land of the Giants' rerun."
"What? "
Marcus supposed he could forgive the dubious tone of voice. If he wasn't looking right at it, he wouldn't believe where they were either.
"That's exactly it. We're in some kind of building, furniture over our heads. We barely made it to cover before some giant almost stomped us!"
Dean let out a sigh Marcus could hear right through the speaker. "Right. Any idea what your location is? "
A surge of hope hit Marcus. He glanced at Maggie and mouthed He's going to help us!
She sent him a thumbs-up and a brilliant smile.
"No, but my phone's got GPS in it. If you can-"
"Yeah," Dean cut him right off, but with the hope of rescue, Marcus couldn't care less. "Sam can track it down, we've done it before. Sit tight, keep everyone together, and don't wander. Once we catch up with you, we'll figure things out. We'll call when we're close."
The call disconnected without warning, and Marcus lowered it from his ear, grinning madly at Maggie with his eyes glistening.
"The Winchesters are on their way."
"I don't know, Dean. Something about this whole case is off."
The Impala pulled into a spot in the expansive blacktop parking lot, and Dean glanced over at Sam as he put her in park. "This is the place?"
Sam shrugged. On his laptop screen, a blinking dot winked at them, showing Marcus and Maggie's supposed location.
Smack dab in the center of Furniture World.
"Do you remember Jo ever mentioning anyone named Marcus?" Sam inquired as he shut his laptop and shoved it to the side to get ready.
Dean shook his head in a negative, but accompanied it with "But, she also spent a year hunting with her mom. Maybe they ran into each other on a hunt back then."
"Just weird," Sam said grimly. 'Weird' never turned out good for them. "How'd he get this number?"
Dean frowned. "Trap?"
Sam looked outside, judging in the midday light. Furniture World's business was booming, families drifting in and out past the massive double-sided doors at peak hour.
"A little obvious for a trap," Sam conceded. "You'd think they'd pick a more private location. Better be ready for anything, just in case."
By the time they strolled through the front door, the Winchester brothers might be any regular passerby. There was no sight of the colt Dean had stuck in his pants, or the knife Sam hid in a jacket pocket. Various other weapons were squirreled away, and they were both on edge after the strange phone call.
The store was the size of a shopping mall, an upper and lower floor both showcasing different furniture arrangements for that "apple-pie life" that was denied to the brothers. Dean sent Sam downstairs with an EMF to start searching for anything hinky, then began to pace each upstairs aisle himself, searching for some sight of what Marcus had reported.
Pulling out his cell, Dean dialed up the new hunter to give him an update on their progress.
Marcus nearly jumped out of his skin when his phone went off in his pocket.
Maggie sent him a disapproving look from where she was talking quietly to the kids they'd rescued to keep them calm. Her one complaint about him was his forgetfulness. One day, that phone was going to go off on a hunt and alert a monster to their whereabouts, and get them both killed.
"H-hello?" Marcus managed, his throat dry.
"Hey Marcus, we're close to the signal, but I gotta tell ya, we're not seeing any giants 'round here."
Marcus' frown deepened. Dean didn't seem the type to lie about a thing like that. "How close are you?"
A few feet away, Maggie gently tugged the teenage boy back from the edge of the dresser in time for a new earthquake to begin approaching for the umpteenth time that day. It was starting to become a part of their lives already, so many giants had passed by.
"Should be close to right on top. The signal's down a bit since we got indoors. Sam's downstairs…"
All that faded as Marcus felt a hand on his arm. He looked up at Maggie in surprise, meeting her dark-eyed gaze of fear as she jerked her head at the opening from under the dresser.
There were a pair of boots walking down the center of the tiled path, each thunderous step enough to rattle their bones from a distance. Marcus would hate to see what they were like from up close, and was beyond glad for the cover that kept those giants separate from the normal people.
Then, he realized what Maggie was motioning at. The rumbling above them matched Dean's pitch and tone exactly, as the voice filtered out of the speaker of the tiny cell phone at him.
"Dean! Stop!" Marcus screeched out before the boots could pass them by and continue on their way, oblivious to the four people desperately waiting for a rescue.
For the life of him, Marcus couldn't decide what would be worse. The boots leaving and continuing on, never glancing back at them, or the fact that they instantly stopped, in time with his command.
Bone-rattling footsteps ground to a halt, the massive boots planting firmly against the tile with a rubber squeal of dismay from the heavy soles. Marcus stared, aghast, at scuffs and marks that covered that hard leather wall in what must be a lifetime of wear. The force needed to actually leave a trace of damage against those boots-
"Mark? What's wrong? "
Dean's voice boomed overhead and from the phone, and Marcus yelped, dropping the phone like it had burned and not caring one bit to correct his name back to 'Marcus.'
In a world of giants, they'd called a giant, not even a regular one, but a trained hunter, and lead him right to their hiding spot.
If Marcus could kick his own ass, he would.
A/N
So, I had a dream! An actual dream that involved not only Supernatural (that never happens for me), it also had g/t!
And I wrote a story based on it.
Three parts, posting one tonight, one tomorrow and one on Sunday.
Neon was nice enough to beta on short notice! The entire story was finished in two days!
And naturally, join us for Ask the Authors weekend over on tumblr, and the discord chatroom starting up right now for the occasion!
See if you can guess the dream!