6
The new voice sounded strange, echoey, and... pubescent? On cue, both Wincesters turned around to face the newcomer. Then were forced to look up as they realized he was floating about 15 feet above them. He did look young. Though he had a shock of white hair and had one of those faces that made it hard to place his age. Sam guessed he was around 15/16. Dean put him at 12. Meaningless numbers when for all they knew, the kid had been dead for a hundred years. (Though unlikely, considering it looked like he was sporting a black and white hazmat suit.) Whatever his age, the boy floating above them must have died too young to go quietly.
"You think it's this town's 'ghost kid'?" Sam talked low, concentrating on maintaining eye contact with the ghost. Not exactly pleasant considering the ghost's abnormally green eyes and general florescent glow. His unnatural appearance made Sam's eyes want to slide right off him. It was only years of ingrained fear and caution that kept Sam locked on the apparition.
And Dean was throwing pieces of styrofoam at it. A few bounced off the ghost's chest, covered by what Dean thought might be a logo for an industrial company. Either that or a toothpaste ad.
Pieces of styrofoam continued to fly. "Will you stop that!" the boy finally cracking. The next chunk of styrofoam headed straight for the nose. But this time, it passed through, rather than bounced off.
Dean's face spread into a grin. "Woah, look at that!" He nudged Sam whose face was still frozen with anxiety. "Little guy can phase in and out pretty well. Handy. Wish I could've done that back when I was a middle schooler." He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.
"Hey, high schooler, thank you very much." The kid (Sam had a hard time thinking of him as a ghost) was now lounging to one side, still floating. The pose and effortless weightlessness gave Sam's head a turn.
"Who are you two?" the boy asked. He eyed their loaded shotguns. "You're… not from the government, are you?"
Dean answered first, putting on his Mulder voice. "Erm yes." He cleared his throat, sounding suddenly gruff. "Yes we are."
The kid looked them up and down. The brothers were dressed to the nines- in rough jeans and faded flannel shirts. "Uh-huh..." Even though he'd sounded unconvinced by Dean's reply, the kid relaxed. "Well in that getup you're certainly not with the guys in white.
Guys in white? wondered Sam. Well they sound...made up.
"Hmm," the boy's eyes landed on their shirts. "Maybe from the Department of Agriculture?"
Dean decided to continue the bluff. He gave the kid his sternest glare. "We're undercover."
"Didn't know horticulturists needed to go undercover. What do they do, uncover raw milk heists?" The kid was smirking, visibly enjoying himself.
Dean was a little slow on the uptake. "...No. Undercover for...the FBI. A special...supernatural investigative unit." Sam rolled his eyes internally, He never lets up on the X-Files?
"Uh, huh." Disinterested, the kid now stared off into one of the high windows. "Well, it doesn't matter who you guys are. You're on my turf and seriously messing with my REM cycle."
"Your turf? So you're attached here?" Sam asked, fishing for clues. He bristled at the idea of exorcising the kid. He acted so...agreeable? But at the end of the day, ghosts were ghosts. Nothing in between.
"I'm not that attached to this place. I mean my general turf. Here I am, doing my nightly rounds and I have to listen to you guys messing around with Boxie in here."
"Wait nightly… you mean you roam about?" Sam had started to ask but was quickly cut off by Dean.
"Boxie?" The kids blase' attitude had started to wear on Dean. "Okay, ghost kid or no kid. We're here to do our job." He pulled another salt round out of his pocket, snapping it into place. "And that job is getting rid of you."
Danny clicked his tongue. "And aren't you forgetting about something?" He pointed behind them. Sam and Dean turned to look just in time to avoid a barrage of boxes slamming into them.
"I am the Box Ghost and I WILL NOT BE IGNORED!"
Dean slid back the barrel and took two shots at the ghost's torso, spraying his blue shoulder with salt. The wound sizzled as the remains of boxes spun about the room in a frenzy. "Okay, you got what you asked for. Not ignoring."
"Insolent humans! You shall pay for your… insolence!"
"Good job making him angry, Dean."
"What else am I gonna do?" He was quickly reloading with spare rounds from his pocket. "Pull your weight and find the friggin source!"
Dean heard next to his ear, "What's a source?"
"Jesus!" Dean started. Out of thin air, Danny had appeared next to Dean, halfway in and out of a refrigerator box. "How'd you get there?"
"Ghost powers. Gives me invisibility." He stepped through and out the box. "And mild intangibility." Another box flew through the air and instead of hitting the boy, passed through him just like the styrofoam earlier. "You didn't answer my question. What's a source?"
"A source is a spectre's ties to life, something that tied him to his living life." Sam buffeted away a few more cardboard missiles. "Could be something personal, like a locket or a car. Or something physical, like his body."
Danny made a face. "Gross." Up close, he looked even stranger to Sam and Dean. Oh sure, he still glowed green and the way he moved didn't always sync up. But he had more presence, more "actually" than any ghost the brothers had seen.
If you squint a little Sam thought You could almost mistake him for a normal teenager. Then he watched Danny shoot a green energy blast at an incoming box. He watched its blacked remains flutter to the floor. Almost. Almost mistake him.
"So you guys are looking for something important of Boxie's? What are you gonna do? Hold it hostage?"
Dean grunted and extricated himself from a pile of rubble. "Of course not. We destroy it. Break his ties to earth."
"Ah-ha! So that's how you were gonna to do it." He fired off another energy blast. Though this time he aimed it at the "Boxie" spectre.
He attacked another ghost. His own kind. Dean thought. He watched as green light illuminated a ghastly smile. And he's having fun. Dean took a few steps back, distancing himself a little from the grinning spectre.
The ghost boy continued. "You can get rid of some of them that way. Break a few amulets, they disappear for a while. They always manage to find another way back anyways." Danny pulled out a small metallic tube from what Dean thought looked like a Batman utility belt. "Besides most of the ghosts here are probably attached to buildings. Wouldn't want to burn down half of Amity Park, would we?" He gave another, less terrifying smile, then spun and uncapped the tube in one motion.
As soon as it opened, the warehouse was lit by a pulsing wave of light. It swirled and circled into a single beam. Then they watching in horror as the beam pulled at the blue collar ghost, distorting his features until -with a final reverberating yell- he was sucked inside the cylinder.
Danny snapped the cap back on and the light gone as quickly as it had appeared.
"See, much easier."
The Winchesters stood dumbfounded at what they'd just seen. Though, as usual, Dean was the first to recover. "That was some Ghostbuster shit right there."
Danny did his best to look modest. "Well, you know. All in a day's work." He tried to casually toss the canister but fumbled the catch, nearly dropping it. His ears turned a bright green.
Sam, now that imminent threat was gone, drove right into the questions. "Where'd you get that? It's not exactly something you'd pick up at a Radio Shack."
"I don't think anybody'd sell that to a kid. Let alone," Dean gestured at Danny's glowing presence, "something like you." He still held his shotgun, full of salt rounds, at his hip. "So either you Peter-Parkered that shit or you lifted it from some tech-head." He lifted the barrel aiming it at the boy. "Either way, it's back to Spiritsville for you."
Danny took a few steps back. "One, it's called the Ghost Zone. And two," he raised his hands defensively as they starting to glow. "I just saved your guys' butts. Can't I get a little thank you?" His neck goosepimpled as he felt another rifle The other brother rest against the back of his head. Geez, these guys were quick.
The power that'd been gathering in Danny's hands fizzled out. Dean lowered his gun as he made his way closer to Danny. "Not in the habit of thanking ghosts. Not ones that get a head of themselves. I mean, you are the reason why we came to this weird-ass town."
"I'm flattered."
"In all the blog posts, message boards, and newspaper articles we found, you're the one who rose to the top. Amity Park's number one menace."
Danny's eyes narrowed. "Don't believe everything you read in the paper."
"It'd be best to get rid of you right now. But…" Dean reached over to pluck the tube out of Danny belt. "I do wonder what the hell this thing is."
The gun behind Danny clicked and then, with Danny's sigh of relief, lowered. "So, tell us what this thing is and we won't..." Sam locked eyes with his brother. "At least, we probably won't exorcise you." He caught his brother's eye again. "At least, we probably won't exorcise you tonight."
