A/N: Dear gods of Olympus, I've been gone for so long! Reading through this story brought a lot of pleasant and unpleasant memories for me, but mostly pleasant, thank goodness. And reading through the past reviews was really inspirational as well. I would spare you the angst if I could, since it's my first chapter back, but I'm afraid that just wouldn't do for continuity's sake. *tries to hide the evil grin and fails* Anyway, I'll let you get to it, but not before I thank all of the following:
D (Guest), Anon (Guest), SAD (Guest), Anon (Guest), Me (Guest), kandilyn, CarverEdlund24, Guest, TB (Guest), Fezzes at 221b, blackrabbitkani, laura118b, IWishIWasACheesecake, Guest, Power Of Funk, Diana Campos, Unicornsbelike, Lederra, Trins xxx, Lacuna Everspring, helinahandcart, Phelpsgirlxxx, Homohomominilupus, KuramaNaruGirl, clar1235, decdec1987, SupernaturalfanR, ILearnedItFromThePizzaMan, hsr62, Phoenix Moon17, Fangirlcrazy5678, NutellaLover13, Bluewater7, Victory4zim, bgeesfan, ginie27, wyotrink, Children-of-the-Blood, stupefiedbyyoursmile, kristina08, Sapphire395, LiveInMyHead, bunnyloy, rmttts, krizzaaaa, DeanIsMine, icykloud, lorier, AlexandriaClare, , Ragnhild, SailorSpnFan, Hafsanasir395, superchiwo, kentuckyderby12, renesmee48, justaislinn, 6six, and Nightingale71
You guys are my inspiration to keep writing. I keep thinking, if there's even just one person reading what I write, then I'll continue. And now I have the lot of you ^^ So I definitely will keep soldiering on.
But my gratefulness extends all the more to Wesley1501, pipinheart, What You See in the Shadows, moira4eku, and Crossing the Galaxy 22. They have been loyal readers and reviewers all this time.
I love you so much, guys! 3
Stay awesome, people, and I hope you enjoy this!
DISCLAIMER: *shattered daydreams, if you know what I mean*
CHAPTER ELEVEN: History Repeats Itself
When they got out of Dean's room and into the corridor, they were immediately assaulted with the panic of nearly a hundred employees, patients and the patients' families rushing for the strategically-positioned fire exits. There was no smoke on this floor that Angelle nor Dean could see, so they theorized that maybe it was on an upper floor. Neither of them talked of the possibility of it being on the lower floors.
Angelle held Dean's hand in her tightly. She didn't want him to get separated from her in the throng of people.
Before long, they got to the ground floor safe and sound. There was panic and even a short altercation between two families wanting to get to use the walkway with their sick relatives first, but other than that it seemed like the situation was handled fairly well.
Upon exiting the building—Dean had insisted that the other people go first and damn if that didn't melt Angelle's heart more—Angelle pulled Dean up into her arms without a word. She knew how taxing this whole fire thing would be for the boy and she also knew that he was trying to act tough and wouldn't ask to be carried around no matter how exhausted he became. In fact, only his lax grip on her hand cued her in to his fatigue.
She was just about to ask him if he wanted some water when she noticed that a thick dark steam of smoke followed them out from the fire exit. She stared at it curiously, vaguely aware of Dean's head resting on her shoulder, and watched as it seemed to look for something. It was moving about strangely and had a feeling of being…alive. Finally, it seemed to settle above an orderly Angelle recognized to be Arnold. Suddenly, the smoke creature thing entered the man's mouth and his eyes flashed black.
Frozen from shock and fear, Angelle stayed rooted on the spot even as the man—thing, whatever the Hell it was—walked towards them. He smiled wickedly, his black eyes glinting in the sun. It was sick and terrifying, but all Angelle could do was take a step back. Her body wouldn't listen to her. It took her a while to figure out that she literally can't move! It was as if someone or something was stopping her.
Meanwhile, Dean seemed to have fallen asleep. He must have been really tired. It was a small blessing for Angelle. It would scar her young charge even further if he witnesses something as terrifying as this. To her growing fright, Arnold produced a knife from out of nowhere.
"Give him to me and you wouldn't be harmed, lady." The voice sounded like Arnold's, but it wasn't him. He radiated sinister from every pore of his body.
"Never." Angelle forced herself to sound braver than she felt at that moment. She was thankful that her voice didn't waver or shake at all, but her legs were dangerously wobbly and she felt that if not for the force that was keeping her immobile, she would've collapsed a long time ago. "You're not gonna lay a finger on this boy."
Despite her strong words, Arnold was close enough to use his knife if he pleased and there was nothing Angelle could do but shield Dean with her body, once push came to shove. She was serious when she said that Arnold was not gonna hurt a single hair on the boy's head.
Arnold laughed, sending a shiver to run down Angelle's spine. "You're lucky I don't have time to play around."
Angelle saw him stab her well before she felt the incinerating pain on her abdomen. The invisible force that was letting her stay on her two feet disappeared all of a sudden and her knees buckled beneath her. Positioning Dean for the fall, Angelle felt the rush of air as her face connected with the ground.
Awoken by the sudden impact, Dean stared wide-eyed at the sight that greeted him. Angelle was lying on top of him, and some sort of liquid was seeping onto his shirt. A man was hovering over the two of them, a bloodied knife on his hand. The man grinned at Dean from ear to ear, his eyes a dark sinister black that freaked Dean out. "I guess it's just us now, boy."
"D-Dean, you need to go… go get help," Angelle gasped out. Even talking a little hurt a lot, but she had to get Dean away from there. At any cost. If Arnold was willing to stab her just to get his hands on Dean, then she could not possibly let him. Dean's safety took precedence for her. Knowing the boy, she disguised her need to keep him away as a plea to get help.
Before Arnold could come any closer, however, a young boy came into view. He was about Dean's age, with curly blonde hair and a stiff gait. He was wearing a hospital gown. Through the blur in her eyesight, Angelle, barely conscious, recognized the little boy as a patient in the oncology section of the hospital. There was no way he should be here.
The change in the man's stance was not lost on Dean. He saw the way his face changed from a gleeful expression of victory to one of barely concealed terror. "Your kind is not supposed to be here. Not yet."
"It does not matter. You will not take this boy to your master. That is now how things should be."
Dean watched the crazy exchange warily. He was pretty sure that the boy they were talking about was him, but he wasn't the least bit interested as to why they were talking about him right now. All that he cared about was getting help for his doctor. She was looking really pale, and he had a feeling that she wouldn't last long without medical attention. Determined, Dean tried to back away from the orderly and the patient, careful not to catch their attention.
He was just about to take a small step back when an invisible force knocked him over and threw him across the ground. His not-so-healed body felt the crushing weight of said force as his back connected with the wall of the hospital. Holding on tight to his consciousness and fighting against the panic wreaking havoc inside his chest, he grunted in pain and began to struggle against whatever was holding him. Just where are the cops when you need them, he thought furiously.
Dean heard the sounds of a struggle and saw that the small boy wearing the hospital gown was engaged in a heated hand-to-hand combat with the much bigger and bulkier orderly. He doubled his efforts to escape his invisible restraint; Dean wanted to help. He was expecting the boy to lose in a second flat, but to his surprise, the boy placed a hand on the man's forehead. White light began to emanate from where their skin connected and then the man collapsed, boneless. His eyes were burned out.
Suddenly, the force holding Dean in place disappeared. He stood on his own two feet and tried to get his breathing back to normal. Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw the other boy approaching him. Despite himself, he shrunk back in fear. He didn't want to get his eyes burned out. "Stay away!" he screamed at the boy, hating how shrill his voice was.
"Do not be afraid, I will not harm you," was all the other boy said.
"I said stay away!" And with that, Dean turned to run as fast as he could. For a minute, he expected himself to be thrown against a wall again, but a quick glance back told him that the boy had mysteriously disappeared.
Dean ran to where he could hear people. They were relatively close, so it made him wonder how they didn't hear all the commotion that Dean just left. Finally finding someone he recognized, Dean quickly brought them to where he left Angelle. Miraculously, they listened to him without hesitation. It appeared that they have been missing for half an hour already and that the firefighters who responded to the fire alarm were just getting ready to go back inside to see if they were trapped in there.
Dean's heart stuttered in his chest when they reached the alleyway. Angelle was not moving. He closed the short distance between them and quickly went to check for a pulse like she had taught him to. He found none. By that point, Dean was making no effort to conceal the tears running down his face. He was scared and confused and he didn't want Angelle to die. He didn't want history to repeat itself.
Wait, what? Dean's eyebrows furrowed as the backtracked. History repeating itself?
Before he could think about it further, Dean found himself being ushered to an ambulance by one of the nurses. Emotion clogged his throat, and he couldn't find it in him to refuse when Nurse Diane lifted him off his feet. He continued to cry until finally, exhaustion took over and he drifted into an uneasy sleep.
A/N: It seriously feels like most of my chapters end in sleep. Why is that? Lol. I have no clue. I just write whatever pops into my head. I sincerely have no idea where I'm going with this anymore.
Anyway, I might not be able to update again in the coming week because it's Finals week (aka Hell week) already. All my effort will be put into making sure I don't fail any course because that would mean I get held back a whole year. And I DO NOT want to get held back.
Soooooooo. What did you guys think reading this? Losing my touch, eh? Meh, I'll probably get right back into swing once Hell week is over and I can spend my one and a half week of vacation writing. But before that, you guys know the drill ^^ I would love to hear from you. Until next time!
PS. This is un-beta'd, so all mistakes are mine. I apologize!
