"Mac!" Jack roared over the sound of the fire and the suddenly blustering wind encircling the mouth of the cave.
He hadn't shouted hoping for an answer, but he got one anyway. "Jack!"
He looked at Dean, his face a war of horror at how weak his partner sounded, and dizzying relief that he was alive at all. "We've gotta get in there, cuz," Jack said desperately.
Dean eyed the magical fire with concern. Dean gave the barest shake of his head as he mentally admitted defeat to himself. "Jack I don't know …"
Suddenly Jack had him by both arms, shaking him just a little. It wasn't violent, but through the strength of his hands Dean could feel that it could be.
Dean WInchester didn't worry about too many people being able to so much as rattle his cage. Right now he was pretty sure if he finished the sentence "I don't know what to do," Jack would knock him on his ass, and it wouldn't even slow Jack down.
Instead of finishing his thought, he tried, "I've never seen this kind of fire before, Jack."
He didn't add that it felt hotter than Hell, or that he could speak about that literally.
Jack let him go and was looking around sort of frantically, like the answer was in the dark around them. There was a loud crash from inside the cave and enough shouting, screaming, and otherworldly moaning that it sounded like the gates of hell had been battered down and everything from below was on its way out.
Dean held up his hands in a sort of helpless gesture.
Jack shook his head, zipped his jacket, and plunged through the flames, screaming at the top of his lungs as he did so. He wasn't sure if it was in anticipation of the pain he knew was coming, his fear at what he knew had to be behind the fire, or some wild-eyed hope that maybe it would scare whatever was waiting for him.
Dean looked into the flames with disbelief for a moment. "Son of a bitch!"
Then he pulled his hands inside his coat, thinking ruefully that at least his crazy cousin had the benefit of a leather coat before he dove into the inferno.
"Son of a bitch," he said again, but this time it was with a sort of quiet resignation. He took a deep breath and followed Jack into the flames.
There were several minutes of smokey painful confusion. "Ow, goddamn it; quit hittin' me," finally could be heard distinctly over all the coughing and choking.
"Sorry, cuz," came Jack's voice through the noise and smoke. "You were pretty much totally on fire for a sec."
"Can you see anything?" Dean asked squinting through the heat and the burning smoke.
"Not much," Jack admitted, groaning as he got to his feet and held out his hand to help Dean up. Damned fool had followed him in in nothing more than that cotton Army surplus coat, that was now riddled with holes. As Dean grasped his hand Jack gasped in pain, feeling blisters he hadn't realized he'd gotten (either pushing through the fire or beating out the flames all over Dean) burst. But, in spite of it, he got Dean to his feet. Jesus. He should have been more sympathetic to Mac when he'd burned his hands a while back. Just that fleeting thought about Mac and his pain, brought Jack's attention swiftly back to the present. Preventing more of it was why they were here.
"C'mon, man, let's go," Jack said, as he started feeling his way forward. "Mac! Buddy, we're here," he called out.
He could hear distant coughing and then, very quietly, "Jack, I'm here, but she's …"
Jack missed whether or not Mac said anything else.
Suddenly something large, and solid, and icy cold knocked him flat and he was rolling on the floor, grappling with someone or something that felt better than twice his size. From the nearby sounds of struggle, Dean was doing the same thing.
Jack could tell from the sound, and the fact that the smoke was clearing that for whatever reason the insanely hot blue fire that they'd fought their way through was going out. And because of it, the wind outside was starting to carry off some of the dense smoke.
A strong blow to the side of his head made Jack's ears ring and he could see for the first time what he was fighting. It was a shadow. Nothing more. It had the vaguest shape of a large man, but if he couldn't feel it raining down punishing punches on him, he would have thought there was no substance to it.
After a moment's additional struggle Jack felt the thing's weight decrease and he got the vague sense that it had started raining in the cave. Then Dean crowed, "Whoohoo, that's right shadow puppet, you don't like holy water either, do ya?"
Other shadows were haphazardly throwing stones now, but with each spray from the pressurized water gun Mac had made, they seemed to shrink, to lose a little more of their ability to affect matter.
Dean passed Jack another of Mac's inventions; the salt gun he'd made from PVC. As the men advanced, peppering the entities with holy water and salt, the creatures finally blended back into the shadows of the cave, until that's all they were.
Now that the shadows were gone, along with their weird low moaning, and the fire had ebbed, the guys could hear emergency services sirens approaching in the distance. But other than the distant keening of sirens, the night had gone very silent.
Suddenly a furious bellow split the quiet.
Dean and Jack shared a look.
That wasn't Mac.
They raced toward the back of the cave, their path lit only by the flickering remains of the pale blue fire.
When they turned the corner, there were torches illuminating the cavern in front of them. At the mouth of it, several small children, who had clearly been sentries were slumped on the ground. Jack's first instinct was to kneel down and see if they were okay, but he was stopped short by the site in the middle of the well-lit circular room.
Mac was on his back on the floor, doing his best to prop himself up on his elbows and use his hands, as well as pushing with his feet, to back away from the creature advancing on him. But … he was covered with blood. His shirt was torn to shreds, and at least ten deep cuts were visible on his arms, and through the tears in his shirt, all over the front of him.
"You can't use me to hurt him," Mac said, sounding breathless. "He's too smart for that, too good at what he does. And I told him you'd try. So he's prepared. Jack's …" Mac stopped to cough then. There was no more smoke, it just sounded like the desperate attempt from his lungs to get the air they needed into them. "Jack's a regular Boy Scout."
The thing that was advancing on him made Jack's blood run even colder than the sight of his partner's pale, clammy skin and weak breathy voice. It had the vaguest form of a woman. But it's flesh appeared to be rotting off its bones, it's white gossamer garment looked like nothing more that sodden spider webs, and it's tangled matted black hair hung down over its face.
"I feel his pain even now, little one. And I told you, if you will not let me in, not let me help you not to feel, I will happily feast on your pain as well."
A snort of something that sounded very like laughter, though Jack couldn't see Mac's face. "Well, then I imagine I'm delicious candy right now …" He breathed heavily for a moment, and Jack, frozen with horror, could hear the labor of it. "But I won't be for long … And I'm telling you … It doesn't matter if you think you can't die … Jack will find a way … He will … He always does."
That, if nothing else that was happening, twisted his heart to a near standstill in his chest. He couldn't just look at this unfolding any more. "Yeah, I will," he said, and despite how utterly devastated by Mac's physical condition part of him was, the old, cold steel he'd called upon so many times in the heat of battle was in his voice.
When the creature lifted its head, Jack's immediate impulse was to take a step back. He even heard a slight catch in Dean's breath as the thing revealed its face.
The creature's eyes … well, they weren't eyes. There were black, sunken, shriveled holes where eyes should be, including a third one in the middle of its pale decomposing rest of its face was elongated, with strange cavities in it, putting Jack in the mind of a partially desiccated horse or cow skull. And its mouth … That was the real horror here. It's jaw appeared to be like that of a giant constrictor, able to unhinge to swallow its prey.
Mac seemed inured to it at this point. He was looking at the thing like it was just part of the scenery. "Jack, stay where you are," Mac said, and despite sounding exhausted and winded, he sounded steady, normal, just Mac working the problem. "Did you guys bring the stuff to bind her with?"
"Do not speak to him, child," the creature ordered. "Your time with him is over. And you belong to me now."
"Pretty sure I don't belong to anybody," Mac managed, backing up a little further. "Did you bring it?" he repeated.
"Yeah, bud. Yeah we did, but …"
"I know," Mac answered Jack's unspoken assertion that they couldn't exactly bind this thing while it was advancing on any of them, in full control of its power. "Gimme a minute."
The creature took another slow measured step toward Mac and he pushed back with his feet again. Then, with a herculean effort, he started to stand, and moved as though he would lean on the cave wall.
Infuriated that he was still fighting, the creature allowed it's terrifying mouth to gape open, prepared to swallow her victim whole. A voice that came from somewhere other than her mouth, was maybe even rasping directly in their minds said, "My property, all the little ones belong to me. Mine were taken. I will take until my grief is sated."
"Revenge on the innocent seems kinda petty for a supposed goddess," Dean snapped, stepping toward her. Jack put a hand on his arm. If Mac said wait, there had to be a reason. He hoped. Maybe the kid was just delirious from blood loss, but he didn't sound delirious.
Mac put out a hand to steady himself and took several faltering steps into the shadows. "You want to claim me, you're gonna have to come for me. You're not getting back in my head and making me do what you want."
The challenge in his voice, the cocky smirk Jack could hear, though he couldn't see it since Mac was in the shadows facing away from him, gave Jack an instant bright spark of hope.
"Have it your way, child," Llorona hissed. "Your pain is worth the effort. You've so much of it naturally."
She took one more lumbering step toward Mac and froze, her scream building and filling the cave before they even realized that's what they were hearing. They covered their ears against the terrifying power of it as a circle of flames sprang to life around her.
Dean recognized the Devil's Trap for what it was and sprung into action, pulling the items for a binding out of the bag that he had almost forgotten he was wearing.
His half a plan finally successful, Mac started to just sink down to the ground, but Jack was right there, holding him up. "Hey, there, bud. Let's get you outside."
Mac nodded, leaning against Jack. "Yeah, outside is better." He paused to take a step. Even supported by Jack, staying upright was difficult. "Where's Cas?"
Jack sighed. "He got banished. So, no lovely angel light to just fix you up. But we got help on the way, kid. We could hear the ambulances and cops coming before we got to you."
"I'll take what I can get," he said, then he stumbled.
"Yeah, sorry about this, kid," Jack said, picking him up in a fireman's carry and moving as quickly as he could to get Mac outside to what he hoped were already waiting paramedics.
Mac didn't say anything more until they got outside. Jack set him down on the ground. He figured with the shape Mac was in, it was better to let help come to them. Besides he really didn't want to trip and fall carrying him in the dark and he could see flashlights approaching, hear voices calling out to each other.
Mac finally quietly said, "Thanks, Jack. I really can't stand up anymore. I'm at shortness of breath, rapid heart rate, shallow rapid breathing. I'm dizzy …" he trailed off. "I've been trying to figure out how much blood I lost, trying to calculate my odds of … I've got at least early stage hypovolemic shock, I'm pretty certain and …"
"Hey, there Dr. House, leave the differential to the professionals, please and thank you."
Mac managed a short laugh. "You bet, pal."
Sam was just leading several local cops and EMS people to the mouth of the cave. He looked at Jack who gave a little nod. "I think the woman ran off that way," Sam said to the cop nearest him, indicating the dark woods, and doing his best innocent bystander impression.
Jack called out, "There's more kids inside. Our friend is in there trying to help them."
Dean came out then, carrying two small children in his arms. He met Jack's eyes for a moment and just blinked. La Llorona was taken care of. "There's at least three more kids inside," Dean told the nearest cop, as paramedics finally reached Mac. The police officer was already on his radio calling for more back up.
Paramedics had surrounded Mac by then and he was doing his best to answer their very basic questions, but was starting to struggle to stay awake. Jack just stepped in and filled in the information they wanted as the got on the move back toward the waiting ambulance.
The Winchesters and the police could take care of the aftermath here for now.
All Jack currently cared about was making sure Mac was okay.
One of the cops stopped him as he was about to climb into the back of the ambulance with his partner. "We're going to need a statement at some point, sir so if you could …"
"I think you know where to find me," Jack replied rolling his eyes and indicating the large vehicle covered in flashing lights.
"Those are some nasty burns you've got there, sir," the cop observed after seeing Jack's hand wave in the air.
"Then I'm headed to the right place," he replied.
He climbed in, trying to make himself as small as possible, so as not to be in the way. On the short trip to the small local hospital, once things had quieted down a little, Jack had a chance to check in directly with Mac. "How ya doin', kid?"
"Been better," Mac replied with a small smile. He blinked slowly a few times. "Did you guys get … is she ..?"
"Yeah, bud, Dean took care of it. How'd you make that trap anyway? We never got around to …"
"I studied the symbol in Sam's book. I was hoping I memorized it correctly." He had a moment where he looked pretty pleased with himself. "Guess I did."
"How did you make it though with …"
"I was in there for a while. She wasn't right on top of me the whole time."
"Yeah, but she took away all your stuff."
"I drew it with my blood, Jack," he said matter-of-factly.
"So that's why you're a quart low, huh?" he teased, sounding pretty normal he thought, considering he wished there was a way to unbind that thing just so he could kick her around a little, and wondering if things like that could bleed, because maybe she'd like to know what having to try to save yourself by writing in your own blood felt like.
Mac shrugged, missing the teasing tone. "I was already bleeding all over anyway." He shivered.
"Maybe took the whole improvise and use what you've got thing a little too far this time," Jack observed, trying to keep a lid on his worry and knowing he was doing a terrible job of it.
"Since I got away from her and we're on our way to put back what she took, I think maybe I took it just far enough."
Mac sighed and closed his eyes. His head was pounding and the sirens were loud.
Jack just squeezed his hand in response.
Mac opened his eyes again for a minute, "I'm good, Jack. I'm gonna be fine."
"Yeah, course you are," Jack said with a firm nod.
"You've got that this is worse than Italy face, Jack."
"No, I do not."
"You sort of have the this is worse than Cairo tone too."
"Hey, we don't talk about that."
Satisfied that Jack wasn't totally freaking out, Mac closed his eyes again. He smirked a little when he heard one of the EMS guys ask Jack, "What about Cairo? You mean like in Egypt?"
"What happens in Cairo stays in Cairo, buddy," Jack replied.
Mac let himself doze off. He was safe, and he had a feeling Jack was going to be extra vigilant about him staying that way for a little while.