Chapter 7:
A/N: Just want to give a shout out to all the great reviewers out there that have taken the time to write a little blurb, thank you, you rock! On a side note, I had already written this, but my computer decided to eat the file, so sorry for the delay.
Disclaimer: Parker I own, the boys, sadly, I do not.
(--)
Dean snapped the phone shut, a sinking feeling in his gut. "What do you mean it's not dead?" he asked, turning slowly. "What do you know about…" his voice trailed off. There, behind a thick stand of fir trees, the creature rose and Dean got his first good look at it. Parker watched the white's of his eyes grow larger.
It had the legs, torso and arms of a human. Blood red eyes stared down at them, the pupils dark slits. There were a spider's chelicera and fangs where the mouth should have bee. Greasy dark hair covered its head. Long, thick talon like protrusion replaced fingers and Dean couldn't help but take note of the dried blood staining each claw. It was naked, save for a few narrow strips of animal hide across its hips. A double set of fly-type wings protruded out of its shoulders.
Suddenly it stopped hovering, dropping altitude and streaking toward them. Dean made a desperate grab for the straps of Parker's pack and heaved himself backward, pulling her on top of him. She landed with a grunt, sprawled over his chest as the creature flew overhead. It soared past them around the mountainside its wings sending a blast of putrid air into Dean's face..
Parker lifted her head slowly. "Thanks," she breathed.
Dean grinned wolfishly. "Anytime," he drawled. It was only then Parker noticed their somewhat awkward position, an entanglement of bodies and limbs, her hands on either side of his shoulders and one of her legs tucked almost intimately between his.
Parker pushed herself up to better look in his eyes. She shot him a withering glare. "You are such a guy."
Dean chuckled. "You say that like it's a bad thing."
She rolled her eyes and reached up to flick him hard in the center of his forehead. "We do not have time for this."
Dean shrugged from his position on the rocks. True, an errant rock had lodged its way beneath his shoulder blade, but he could think of worse places to be. "Oh darlin', there's always time for…" The creature's loud, eardrum-shattering shriek halted him mid sentence. It was headed back. "Or not," he corrected himself. "Let's go."
Parker obediently rolled off him, and Dean sprang to his feet. They both scrambled up and headed down the trail, Dean pushing at parker's back.. The two half ran, half slid down, loose dirt and shale cascading around their feet like a miniature avalanche. The hit the hard pack together and took off, sprinting across 200 hundred or so open yards that lay before the relative safety of the trees.
Parker risked a glance behind her when she heard another cry. The creature had flown back around the hillside, flying low and parallel to the ground like some kind of warped version of a heat seeking missile. She pushed herself faster. "What's the plan?" she called out.
Dean hurdled a small pile of rocks. His legs pumped like pistons, but the trees didn't seem to be getting closer, at least, not fast enough. The creature was gaining, fast. "Right now the plan is to not die!" he yelled back. "Does that work for you?"
"Definitely, definitely works."
Dean looked over his shoulder. It was nearly on top of them. "Hit the deck!" Dean threw himself to the ground. Just behind him Parker did the same. The ground bit at his hands and knees. The monster swept over them, its hands closing on air. Dean pushed himself up immediately. Only a few yards past them, the creature's wings had brought it to a stop, and it turned, hissing evilly. Dean went to Parker and hauled her to her feet with surprising ease.
They didn't get ten feet before it was on top of them again. They dove for the ground again, pressing their bodies flat, but this time the creature wasn't fooled. It flew even lower, its claws dragging in the earth. One clawed hand ripped across the back of Dean's calf. The other hand managed to snag Parker's pack. She felt a tug beneath her armpits just before she found herself hurtling forward. It was dragging her. She grabbed wildly at the ground, at the straps of her pack and blindly behind her head, but it was no use. Rock bit at her hands and knees and dirt cemented her teeth.
"Parker!" Dean shot after them like a sprinter out of the blocks.
The creature dragged her a few yards before beginning its ascent. Parker was in a full-blown panic. It was going to fly up and then drop her onto the rocks, she was sure of it. Just as the tip of her boots hovered a foot or two above the ground Dean reached them. He threw himself at them, wrapping his arms around Parker's hips. Their rise slowed dramatically. The monster turned its head to look at Dean, its fangs clicking together. Then it howled and brought a foot down across the bridge of his nose. Tears stung his eyes and he tasted blood, but Dean didn't let go.
Meanwhile, Parker searched desperately for anything she might use against it. She'd nearly given up when her hand brushed something metal. The hammer and pick she always kept on her harness, she'd forgotten it. She fumbled a little with the strap, but brandished the tool triumphantly after a moment. Then she twisted, whipping her shoulders around. She drove the pick handle deep in the creature's arm just below the elbow. Screeching, it released its hold on her pack, but not before swiping at her forearm. She and Dean crashed to the ground from five or six feet up. The landing was bone jarring, but far preferable to other options. The creature remained floating above them for a long moment, hissing and spitting before it flew away and vanished again.
Dean and Parker, by mutual unspoken agreement, headed back for the cabin. They needed to rearm, restrategize, and take a rest. Dean limped, the blood that pooled in his boot squishing with each step. Parker walked just behind him, cradling her injured arm close to her. He didn't look at her once, didn't say a word. He had questions, and was going to expect her to provide some answers. Parker just wished she knew what to tell him.
(--)
Dean and Parker sat across from one another at the small table at the Quinn cabin. Iodine soaked wads of sterile gauze littered the space between them, along with two now empty bandage wrappers. They'd already finished patching up Dean's leg, and he was putting the finishing touches on her arm. Parker was trying not to look at the blood.
"Some of those could use stitches," he told her brusquely as he taped off the wrap. Already small pinpricks of blood seeped up through the bandage. Those were the first words he'd spoken in more than an hour.
She gingerly rolled her sleeve back down. "I'd prefer not to get arrested again, thanks." She leaned back in her chair. God this was uncomfortable. She preferred sarcastic Dean, hell, she preferred angry, yelling Dean, to the quiet, angrily brooding man in front of her.
Dean stood abruptly, his chair scraping on the floor, and began to pace. With the threat of imminent peril behind him, his head was starting to work overtime. His temper was up. Hell, if she were a guy he would have decked her already. He forced himself to stop and rested his hands on the back of his chair. Parker watched the blood drain from his knuckles. "So what exactly do you know about this thing that you didn't bother telling us?"
Parker sighed and said wearily, "Its name is Akvan. It's a mythical demon out of Iranian folklore." She ran a hand over her face and felt dirt and sweat beneath her fingertips. She needed a shower.
"Why didn't you tell us this before?"
"I didn't think of it till Sam told you it had Iranian origins. I didn't even remember it. It was so long ago Dean. I was a kid, and I thought it was just a story meant to scare me and my sister."
Dean's scowl deepened. "You'd be surprised how often stories have a way of coming true. So what else? How do we fight it? How do we kill it?"
"I don't know."
"Think."
"I don't remember!"
"Well that's not good enough Parker," Dean barked. "Sam nearly died up there. We nearly died, so you'll have to excuse the fact that I'm a little short on the warm and fuzzy understanding. So stop yankin' my chain and tell me what you know."
Parker threw her hands up. "I don't remember," she repeated. "But I know someone who can tell you the whole story." She stood and headed for the door.
"And who's that?" Dean asked as he followed.
"The person who told me the story in the first place." Parker felt ill. "My mother."
(--)
Chapter 7
Short chapter I realize, but it felt like a good place to leave off. Kicking myself as I realize I sort of wrote myself into a corner with Sam, but oh well…I'll draw him back in I swear.
Much love to all those lovely people who encourage me and prompt the process along…aka the reviewer. Thanks in advance.