Bouncing Around

A Psych/Supernatural Crossover Crack Fic

A/N- This chapter is mostly pre-pre story; And God always dies young and bloody.

Dark Archer- Thanks for the faith on my writing. This chapter was kinda hard to write, but I'll be sure to update weekly now that Summer is here. I'm thinking friday's unless my internets goes out. Shawn hasn't fought Lucifer yet, he will, but that will be a chapter unto itself. And Sam and Dean are totally going to meet Buzz!Micheal at the 'final battle'. Oh! I made another image that I posted on my deviantArt, go check it out!

Part Twenty Nine- Ruby's Knife: Origins

"This isn't my first time in a coffin." - Shawn Spencer: Shawn (and Gus) of the Dead

"I'll reap God." - Death: Two Minutes to Midnight

"Then Jesus asked him, 'What is your name?' He replied, 'My name is Legion; for we are many.' He begged him earnestly not to send them out of the country. Now there on the hillside a great herd of swine was feeding; and the unclean spirits begged him, 'Send us into the swine; let us enter them.' So he gave them permission. And the unclean spirits came out and entered the swine; and the herd, numbering about two thousand, rushed down the steep bank into the sea, and were drowned in the sea." - Mark 5.9-13

A mug of honey soaked grog slammed onto the rough hewn table as Jacob muttered curses under his breath. He checked the fletching on his arrows for what felt like the hundredth time and looked over his neighbors. Young Micheal bounced on his toes with eagerness to join the hunt but his parents wouldn't allow it. Maybe in another year or two, but for now the ten year old had a grace period. Jacob scratched at his scalp and scowled. "Where in the seven hells is my bloody knife?"

Carpenter looked over at his disgruntled friend and sighed. "S'gone?" He wiped at his streaming nose with a dirt covered sleeve and spat into the dirt. "He's angry with us, that's certain. Too much pride."

"Probably." Jacob grumbled as he squinted ale-addled eyes at the merchant arguing with their blacksmith. No one knew why their little village was missed by the black plague, they'd had enough of the infected or infected associated come through on their journey's to bigger settlements for cures, but they were. The fiefdoms to the north and east were devastated and they'd yet to get a single afflicted from their own people. The merchant had moved in with his daughters, boasting about how blessed the land was and other crock, and now they had more trouble than they ever wanted. "I can think of a few elements that might need some purifying."

Giving his friend a sick grin Carpenter tested the blade of his ax and chucked miserably. He'd recently come down with a bad cold. It wasn't the dreaded plague but the carver had never been sick before in his life. Everyone in the community was high strung with night attacks already; his illness didn't bode well. "I'll not argue with that, but it's up to the Lord to get rid of them."

Jacob settled his quiver into place as the leader of their little hunting expedition arrived. The Lords middle son sat on a well aged horse wearing a gleaming sword belted at his hip and a crossbow hanging from the saddle. A pair of trained hounds kept close by the hooves of the russet-colored horse, ears flicked back in readiness. Jacob watched as the nobel went to speak to the merchant and a warm anger filled his breast.

The merchant's daughter peaked out the door and sneered at them as she sniffed at the embroidered cloth she held to cover her nose before disappearing back inside the cottage.

Jacob growled and spun on his heel nearly running into his little sister. "Jac!" The little dirt covered shepherdess squeaked, eyes widening before hitting the hard packed mud road in submission. "Brother."

The woodsman sighed and knelt down, hands on her tiny shoulders, and queried. "Bess?" His eyes narrowed as he caught a glint of something being concealed behind her back. "What did you do?"

"I'm sorry. I wanted to make it better." He offered his hunting knife and Jacob pursed his lips. The blade had been expensive, he still owed the man that made it another three winters of work, and his little sister had marked it up. Mostly likely with a rock. "I helped out Nanny May last year before she... went away... and I remember she had squiggles on her rocks. She said it made them special and I..."

He'd never been able to stay mad at her when she was crying. "Thanks Bessi." The little girl smiled through her tears and went running between the gathered men to be lost between the cottages and wandering farm animals. Jacob brushed his fingers over the scratches on the blade and tucked it into his boot. It wasn't cold enough to demand footwear yet, but something inside him didn't want to leave the house without them. Listening to that little bit of instinct had paid off.

The lord's son accepted a small wrapped package from the merchant and remounted his horse. "Men! For too long we've let this animal rule our christian lands! It stops now!" The horse pranced in place for a moment before snorting and charging off as the hounds gave rough yips and followed.

Next to him, Carpenter shrugged and sniffled as he followed his own path. They all knew they were going to the Rickman's stead where the last attack had occurred. From there the dogs would catch the scent and then the real hunt would begin.


"Good Lord Above," Carpenter gasped out. He crouched against a tree clutching the splintered shaft of his ax. Blood dripped in artistic splatters along the fallen leaves as the man shook. "Did you see? Did you see what it did to Samuels? It's not... it's got to be..."

Jacob swallowed and nodded, eyes frantically darting around the forest for any sign of the creature. It was far from a normal boar; even a crazed one. With his eyes wide open Jacob could still see everything clearly as if the image was forever burned into his skull. Samuels had moved first and struck the beast, but it had just kept coming. It shrugged off the blades and barbs hitting it like they were nothing more than water.

It killed the hounds, crushed them under it's devil-cloven hooves, and ate Samuels.

Jacob fought to keep down his bread as bile rose in his throat and his eyes stung with tears. "We need a priest. God Almighty." He felt too hot like his whole body was alight with fever and he dropped his bow in favor of fighting with the ties on his tunic.

"We're dead. Dead. If it's not the plague it's a pig." Carpenter shivered deliriously from blood loss. "It smashed through a tree, Jac. A Tree."

He coughed and spasmed, pupils blown wide in panic, before he stilled and gasped. "Carpenter? Carpenter!" Jacob hissed with worry as he ripped at the fabric of his friends breeches and gaped at the wound. It was green and festering with obvious infection. He could feel angry heat radiating from it just by passing his hand close. "...Goodbye, friend."

Reverently, he closed the dead staring eyes of his best friend and backed away. He still had a job to do. Half the hunting party was gone, run off or dead, and he couldn't risk being taken unawares. The monster was still out there. He picked up his bow, restrung it with the confidence born of practice, and headed off.

Jacob's feet were as silent as he could manage in the undergrowth as he tried to track the beast. The stench of rotten eggs drifted as if in warning and he kept an arrow ready on the taught string.

His stomach twisted, a bead of sweat rolled down his back, and that sudden heat rolled through him. Instinctively Jacob spun and let his arrow fly. The thing hardly even noticed as it charged forward bringing with it visions of fire and the smell of sulfuric brimstone. Jacob backpedalled and managed to fire a second shot, this shaft of his arrow sticking out of the beasts eye like a morbid flag, before the monster covered the distance and hit him. Jacob went flying. His bow broke against a different tree as his ribs cracked against another. His remaining arrows spilled from their quiver and the monster squealed.

The woodsman's hands came up to cover his ears from the pain and he grit his teeth as it rooted around, taking its time, playing with him. It killed Samuels, the lords son, Harrison, Luke, and Carpenter. It knew it could take it's time. Jacob wasn't going anywhere. Not when he could see white bone poking through his trousers.

But this thing was killing.

It had gone after the lords livestock. Had been destroying their crops.

It killed his friends.

Suddenly, with perfect clarity, Jacob could see what it would do if not stopped. He growled low in his throat and reached for the knife in his boot. His fingers wrapped around the unique antler grip as the beast approached in utmost confidence.

He could practically see the evil radiating off of it as blood leaked from it's numerous wounds. It didn't seem to notice.

He was going to make it notice.

Jacob struggled to stand as waves of pain and heat washed through his body. Blood, sweat, and tears mingled as he faced off against the monster and it froze. Jacob screamed his challenge and stumbled forward. The monster crossed the remaining distance in a blink and struck with it's tusk ripping through the man's stomach and intestines. The knife in Jacob's hand felt like a burning coal as he screamed. He held onto the rough, poisonous fur of the possessed animal and buried his knife into the neck of the monster.

"DIE DEMON!"

The monster stumbled, squeals capable of shattering glass and eardrums ringing through the forest, and it went into death throws. Jacob watched from where he fell, organs spilled in the dirt and debris, as sparks lit up the monster from the inside.


She stepped cautiously through the forest, the hem of her dress hiked up to avoid the dead leaves and other trash, looking for her targets. Her teacher had told her not to do it. She was too young. Too inexperienced.

Her teacher had been right, but she was too dead to say 'I told you so'.

The blonde woman grimaced as the smell of the dead and rapidly decaying hit her. She sniffed at her linen and stopped in shock at the sight before her. Without the trees and brush getting in the way, she could clearly see the devastation.

It was dead.

She smiled and stepped up to the demon boar gripped the small hunting knife that had, she assumed, performed the killing blow. She nearly fell pulling it out, and inspection of the metal blade reveled a curious combination of symbols. She didn't recognize them, but she had time. She'd figure it out. They looked like nonsense to her now but surely someone would recognize them.

Until then, she'd keep the blade. A demon killing blade would be oh-so useful if one of them got out of control again.

Smiling, Ruby offered a curtsy to the human corpse lying not five feet from her aborted summons.


"Shawn. Shawn. Shaaaaawn." Jules called as she snapped her fingers before the eyes of her favorite psychic. He was just staring off into the middle distance while her co-workers worked around him. The SBPD were fairly used to the odd goings-on of the (unofficial) Head Psychic. At least he wasn't dancing around and messing up paperwork.

Shawn slowly blinked and looked around with a tiny smile at the corner of his mouth. He hopped off the desk he was sitting on and grinned. The young officer who owned the desk looked up at the sudden movement before resuming his doodle on the back of a police report. "Jules! Aren't we looking," hazel eyes took a moment to take in her outfit. "Jessica Rabbit-ish today."

"It's for the costume party," she answered while taking out a compact and checking her red wig. "Aren't you going to get dressed?"

"I am! Just give me a second..." He ran over to the visitors desk and rifled through the drawers before pulling out the blank name tags. "Ah ha."

"...God." She raised an eyebrow at him. "You totally stole that from Buffy."

"Perhaps, or did they steal it from me? I work in mysterious ways, after all, very mysterious." He nodded sagely while attempting a James Earl Jones voice. He did not succeed. "Besides, wait till you see Gus! And Lassi!"

The two detectives headed towards the door of the station, waving to Buzz who for some reason was wearing a cutlass with his uniform as they left, and Jules pulled at the sleeves on her gloves. "I didn't think he was coming. Lassiter... doesn't seem to like Halloween. Or rather he likes it a little too much. He was saying something about extra patrols and arresting egg throwers."

Shawn shrugged as he slung his arm around the temporary red heads shoulders. "Everyone likes dressing up! Now, have I ever told you about the time I was gored to death by a giant boar?"

End.