Eric Kripke is battering his fists on a run of the mill appartment door in big-city Canada. "Open the damn door! I know they're in there... I saw the Impala in the parking lot for God's sake. Come on now, we need the boys to shoot the show..." "Sam and Dean? Who're they? Never heard of 'em!" A woman's voice calls out to him from somewhere behind the door. Eric can hear them laughing of course, and is none too pleased. "Come on guys, the jig is up... time to go back to Vancouver. Unless of course you both would like to explain to all the fangirls why the show got cancelled..." Oh, he knows what he's doing all right. The door quickly opens.to reveal a young woman and two very familiar hunters. "All right, fine... you can have them back... but I'm keeping the car, okay?" Taking the boys away from her was bad enough... but taking the car too? It was just inhumane. Eric just held his hand out, palm up, expectantly. "You are the worst kind of cruel, you know that?" she accused as she placed the keys in his outstretched hand. It was just too darned bad that the Winchesters, the Impala and the whole Supernatural show were all his...
Sorry, did I just say all that out loud? lol I know, it's not your average, run-of-the-mill disclaimer... Forgive me, it's extremely late here and I got a little carried away ; D (Just kidding Mr. Kripke... I would never dream of taking the boys or the car away. They've just made a habit of taking little joy rides through my imagination is all... hope that's okay...lol) Right, like Eric Kripke would read my stuff. LOL. Wouldn't that be awesome? Incidentally... should the man ever pop in... and need another writer for the show... hint, hint... wink, wink... nudge, nudge...
Oh, there she goes again... dreaming in technicolor... Quick! Post the next chapter before she writes another paragraph already!
Sorry about the above guys... I realize it probably makes me seem a great big weirdo... Blame it on my silly sense of humor teehee. (I am sooo going to regret including all this in the morning) Enjoy chapter two... it's a little less creepy than the first.
Chapter Two
It was the same old diner. The same old booths covered in vinyl with little rips and tears on the seats from wear and age. The same old greasy food. Even the waitresses were all pretty much the same. Middle aged and worn out around the edges but with the most beautiful, heartfelt smiles. There was always a little diner like this, no matter where they went.
Dean used to love this part of the life. How no matter where he went there was always something familiar to come back to at the end of the day. Recently though, even that small comfort hadn't been comforting at all. Ever since his Dad… well, he didn't want to think about that right now. He didn't want to think about anything but hunting.
Everything else…well everything else made him think about his Dad and that just plain hurt. Quite frankly he just didn't want to deal with it. There were more important things to do right now. Things to hunt, a demon to find and destroy, Sammy to protect. He didn't have time to waste on touchy-feely chic flick crap that might (Ech, God forbid!) involve tears, self pity and loathing.
"Okay, I think I found something." Sam stated excitedly from behind the laptop he'd been glued to for the better part of the last hour. It had been a couple of days since the whole zombie thing in Greenville and quite frankly they were both getting restless.
"Oh Thank God! What did you find?" An angry spirit, a haunted something-or-other… hell he'd take another wendigo at this point. Anything to have something to do.
"I'm not really sure what did it, but it's definitely right up our alley. Take a look."
Sammy turned the laptop around so Dean could see what he'd found. The picture displayed there was gruesome even by their standards. An ER littered with dead bloody bodies, mangled machinery and satanic symbols burnt into every visible surface.
"Is this for real?"
Dean was hard to shock… but this…he'd never seen anything like it before.
"Oh it's for real alright. The papers are calling it a freak accident with the oxygen tanks. It's weak, but I guess they have to explain it somehow."
"No kidding. Oxygen tanks exploding… so what are they saying about the symbols?"
"They're not. It's being chalked up to coincidence."
"Right. 'Cause when oxygen tanks explode, that kind of thing always happens."
Dean was pure sarcasm. He never really did get how people could have concrete evidence of the supernatural right in front of them like that and still believe that it didn't exist. "Any survivors?"
"Just two. A nurse and a patient. They're, uh, both in the psych ward. Suffering from post-traumatic stress syndrome or something."
"Well, they definitely saw something."
"Yeah. So, what do you think?"
That Sam even had to ask was surprising.
"I think we should pay the bill and hit the road Sammy. We can be there in a couple of hours. I want to get a look at that ER before they start cleaning it up."
Dean answered, closing the laptop and flagging down the waitress.
The sooner they got going the better. They had asphalt to burn, research to do, something to hunt… and to kill.
John comes to in a dark motel room. The curtains are drawn and the lights are off. What little light does filter through the thick, heavy material does very little to help him see. He's sitting upright in a chair with his hands resting lightly on his knees. Where the hell am I? How did I get here?
He's tired… exhausted actually and sore. Feels like he should have checked himself into a hospital rather than a motel. Funny, there's something about hospitals… something that he should be able to remember… isn't there?
There's something on his clothes, his face, in his hair. It's wet and sticky and feels disgusting. He needs a shower and a change of clothes. His bag… where did he put his bag? There's a problem because it's not in the room. At least not that he can see. Did he leave it in the truck? Better check the bathroom first. He probably just left it in there. Wish he could figure out why he feels so strange…
But the bathroom is empty. Empty except for a couple of courtesy towels and a bar of soap. John is standing in the middle of it trying to figure out what the hell was going on that he can't remember anything of the last few days. He sees the mirror out of the corner of his eye. Catches a quick glimpse of his reflection… but it takes a moment for him to realize what is he sees.
When it finally sinks in through the haze that has taken over his mind he does a double take. Is that…? Oh God, I'm covered in blood. What the hell? And that's when it comes back to him.
The demon, the crash, Dean lying near death in intensive care at the hospital. He couldn't let Dean die. It would kill him… and Sam, poor Sam had lost so much already. Then the deal he made… the demon wanting more…if it'll save his son, then hell yes. He'd give whatever he had to. Dean sitting up in the hospital bed…alive. Thank God… and then nothing… wait, not nothing… flashes… flashes of another hospital… another ER…
In the mirror he sees his own eyes widen in shock. "Oh God, what have I done? What did you make me do?" Horrified he watches his own lips curl into an evil smile, his own eyes turn iridescent yellow. He doesn't recognize his own face.
"What's the matter John?" His voice… but not his voice… has an animalistic growl to it. "Already regretting our little deal? Too bad. You can't back out now." Was this what the boys had seen when… Oh God he felt sick. Wanted to throw up. But the demon had control now. The demon wouldn't allow it. "Don't worry John. We're going to have fun you and I. You'll see…"
