Hey all! Here's the next chapter! Thanks for all the reviews and I hope you enjoy! Please keep reviewing! Writer's heaven! :)
Um...I should warn about violence. There are some violent scenes in this chapter. I'm not too graphic, but...yeah, just so you all know. :)
The demons were coming in fast.
Dean wasn't sure he could hold them all off and search for the knife.
But, being a Winchester, he was going to try anyway.
Dean searched through his jacket pockets with one hand for his holy water, while picking up one of the heavier books with his other hand, chucking it at an incoming demon. The demon made a sound of surprise as the heavy book landed on his foot and a distinct crack was heard.
Holy crap. Broken foot.
Dean smirked, grabbing another one and throwing it at another demon.
The demon caught it, much to Dean's dismay, and threw it right back. Dean ducked just in time.
That stupid thing almost took my head off!
Hand closing around his holy water, Dean was about to pull it out, when he felt an invisible force throw him backwards. He slammed hard into a cabinet, having been thrown into the furniture section of the store.
Scowling, fighting off an ache in his back, Dean recovered quickly, crouching behind another cabinet.
Plan. Plan. I need a plan.
Grinning, Dean finally pulled out his holy water. He counted to three in his head, then stood, splashing the holy water out over the six gathering demons.
They shrieked in agony and hatred, several of them reaching blindly for him.
Dean began to shout an exorcism, hoping to be able to get rid of at least some of them.
...
Sam grunted in pain as he stood from where he had been tossed into shelves full of movies and CD's.
He lashed out with an outstretched hand, knocking several demons back, eyes scanning the room.
Where? Where the heck could it be?
That's when Sam noticed a kitchen section, set up like a really big kitchen, sink, drawers, fridge, everything.
There.
...
Dean had gotten rid of about half of his demons. The faster of the six had made it out of earshot before he finished, but the slower three, still writhing from the holy water, hadn't made it.
Good riddance.
Three more demons left and Dean needed something to fight them with now.
He snuck through aisles of hardware, mind whirling as he tried to think, scanning for the knife, any knife, as he went.
Dean froze, a grin slowly spreading across his face.
Now that's more like it.
Dean picked up the sledgehammer, testing the weight in his hands.
Oh yeah. This is gonna be fun.
...
Sam took off running for the kitchen section, but he was pulled back roughly, something soft wrapping around his throat.
Scarf. His mind supplied, though he didn't really care all that much, considering that whatever it was it was choking him.
Sam was dragged backwards by the scarf, fighting and struggling against the demon holding it, his vision beginning to turn black, his lungs straining.
Finally, he reached back with his telekinesis and, refusing to hesitate or think about it, grabbed the demon's neck and wrenched, snapping it instantly.
The demon made a horrible choked noise.
Sam pulled away, gasping and coughing, silently apologizing to the host who had no chance of survival now.
Just another thing to add to his nightmares.
Forcing himself to focus, Sam stumbled towards the kitchen once more, sensing more than hearing the remaining demons following close behind.
...
Dean swung the sledgehammer, putting all of his strength in it, and the cracking sound was audible and made even Dean wince.
The demon howled in surprise and pain, clutching at his host's broken face.
Dean swung again, impacting with the chest of another demon, who had been trying to dodge out of the way.
Dean withheld a chuckle as he thought about his little brother.
What Sam would think if he saw me doing this...
...
Sam slid into the kitchen counter and started throwing drawers open, beginning to rummage through the ridiculous number of knives in the two drawers he had opened.
Growling inarticulately, Sam picked up two knives and spun around, throwing them with unerring accuracy at the approaching demons, watching for any that suddenly dropped dead.
I have no time!
Sam picked up knives, throwing them, picking them up almost immediately, barely waiting to watch the demon's reactions.
Then one of the demons froze, seizing on the floor, a knife protruding from it's throat. The whole room seemed to hold its breath, all occupants realizing the same thing at the same time: it was the knife.
Sam had found it.
Sam didn't have it.
The youngest Winchester lunged forward just as the other demons did, almost instantly in a dog pile of demons, elbows smashing into sides, fists clutching clothing, desperate, rough and painful, all trying to get to the knife before Sam and before the other demons.
Sam's right hand finally closed around the knife, but he suddenly felt a painful wrench of his left arm, screaming in agony as it was pulled right out of its socket.
Another hand wrapped tightly in his hair, yanking his head back.
Another smashed into his chest with bruising force, trying to push him back.
An elbow connected with his face, Sam grunting as blood poured down his face from his bleeding nose.
Finally, Sam pushed with all his strength, his telekinesis knocking all of the demons back into the shelves and racks of random items surrounding them. Sam panted breathlessly, the floor shaking beneath him, spreading to the very foundation of the building with the force of his fury and agony.
...
Dean froze as the floor suddenly trembled beneath him, one word screaming across his mind.
Sam!
Dropping the sledghammer, the older brother booked it for the stairs.
...
The demons were coming again and Sam was exhausted.
The young psychic grabbed them with his telekinesis as they got close and began cutting their throats with the knife he now held, not hesitating, moving on to the next before any of the others could act.
Sam finally stopped moving, the final demon falling to the floor. He swayed where he stood, holding the knife in one hand, keeping the other (dislocated) arm against his sore chest protectively.
Crap I hurt.
Just as Sam was sure he wasn't going to be able to keep standing much longer, Dean appeared by his side.
"Sam! Sam, are you okay?" The worry was clear in his voice.
Sam held up the knife for Dean to see.
"Found it." he managed.
Dean rolled his eyes, gazing at the bodies all over the floor. "I gathered that much. Are you hurt?"
Sam winced, glancing at his shoulder. "I'm bruised as heck, but the only serious thing is the dislocated shoulder."
Dean gave him a scrutinizing look. "You sound like crap. Someone try to strangle you again?" the oldest Winchester was grinning now, trying to hide his concern.
Sam rolled his eyes this time, blushing a little. "Shut up."
Dean's grin lasted a second more, then finally softened. "Let's get that shoulder taken care of."
With no warning, Dean stepped closer, grasping Sam shoulder and jerking it back into place with a sharp snap.
Sam's knees buckled, as he gasped in agony, his head drooping as he fought the blackness threatening. The only thing that stopped him from face-planting it was the gentle arms that wrapped around him, stopping his fall.
"Come on, Sammy. Stay with me, kiddo. We need to get out of here and get you cleaned up. It's okay now. We'll be fine."
Even as he spoke, Dean was half-carrying, half-dragging his little brother towards the stairs.
"It's okay. I gotcha. I'll get us out of here."
