I hope this is to your liking. I'm out of the loop for the next couple of days but the story should be done by the time I get back.
It's been a wild ride, but fun. I've already started working (at least in my head) on my next fic.
Enjoy!
ST16 Trapped
Darkness crept into his dreams, shadows remembered and familiar haunted him. Dean woke with a start and shot to a sitting position a feeling of dread coursing made him shiver. He knew with certainty Sam was in danger.
Ignoring the tearing pain in his shoulder he threw off the covers. Fumbling hands tore at the tubes and wires connecting him to the monitors.
Sitting behind the desk sipping a cup of coffee Stephen was going through his days schedule when the alarms went off. The walls shook with the sound. Swearing he dropped his mug and sprinted toward Dean's room. Skidding to halt just inside the room fear turned to anger as he saw his patient awake and tearing at the wires. In two strides he hands captured Dean's yelling angrily, "Dean Stop!"
Dean pulled away his eyes bleak as he looked at Stephen. "They're in danger, Sam and the sheriff are in danger," he whispered hoarsely.
"Dammit Dean stop fighting me," Stephen warned him. "I talked to Sandi ten minutes ago, everything's ok."
His voice echoed with the fear consuming him, "Its not ok doc! I'm leaving. You can either help me or get the hell out of my way," he whispered fiercely.
Reason and logic told Stephen there was nothing wrong, but the fierce haunted look in his patient's eyes said differently. Taking a deep breath he went to work removing the tubes and wires that connected Dean to the monitors. "Stay put Dean," Stephen whispered, I'll be right back." Taking a step away he glanced back as Dean swung his legs over the side of the bed. "Stay put," he growled.
For the first time since waking a small smile teased the hunter's lips.
"Dean, please" Stephen warned him! "I need my little black bag."
His eyes flashed with humour saying, "Go doc, you're wasting time they don't have."
Snarling beneath his breath Stephen raced from the room to return a minutes later little black back in one hand Dean's clothes in the other. Waving his phone his voice shook with alarm as he spoke, "She's not answering."
Growling Dean sucked in a deep breath. Dizziness swept through him as he slid off the bed, his knees bucked and he would have hit the floor if Stephen hadn't caught him. Dean hated the fact that he needed help getting dressed, he couldn't even button his own pants and tying his shoes was beyond his capabilities.
"You're not going to do Sam or the Sheriff any good in this condition," Stephen warned him.
He knew exactly what Stephen was asking. "I can't think straight with that crap in my system," Dean snapped.
"I can give you something for the pain, it will take the edge off and at least get you back on your feet. It won't muddy the waters Dean, but you can barely function like this."
Swearing beneath his breath Dean took a deep breath and let it out slowly. He hated to admit the doc was right, but the pain in his shoulder was only the beginning. The rest of him felt bruised and battered, like a little hacky sack ball that had been tossed around the circle one too many times. It was sheer will-power that kept him on his feet right now, "Fine," Dean whispered.
With Stephen's help Dean made it out the door. Rubbing his hip he growled and threw the doctor a resentful look. He hated needles, but he could already feel the energy returning and the pain receding.
Stepping through the door he stopped and stared at the Black Beauty sitting in the parking lot. "God I love that boy," he whispered. It was just what the doctor ordered. The Impala's trunk contained an arsenal and Dean had a feeling he was going to need it for this one.
"Where are the keys Sammy," he mumbled beneath his breath. Beside him he heard the doctor grumbling.
"Dam, sorry," he swore before pulling a set of keys from his pocket. "Sam tossed these my way this morning, said she belonged to you. Your Pacifier, I think is how he put it."
Dean laughed instantly regretting it. "Damn straight," he whispered reaching for the keys.
"Don't even think about it Dean I'm driving," Stephen chuckled snatching the keys away.
Swearing beneath his breath Dean shot the doctor a killing look before whispering, "Fine, but you'd better take damn good care of her!"
Seconds later he was rummaging through the Impala's trunk. He handed Stephen a 9 mm Glock and a 12 gauge shotgun with heavy loads. Rock salt wasn't going to work on the creatures they might have to face. With only one usable arm Dean choose a Smith & Wesson .357 Magnum and stuffed a handful of ammunition into the sling holding his left arm against his body.
Moments later they were on the road heading west toward the lake. Black clouds, ominous and oppressive were forming on the horizon. A storm was moving in and it was heading straight for the sulphur pool. Through the window he could see the lightening flashing across the sky. 'Hold on Sammy, we're almost there,' he mumbled beneath his breath, he hoped he wasn't too late. "Push her doc," he growled quietly, "We're running out of time."
oooOOOooo
Unaware of the danger the Sheriff manoeuvred the truck through the trees and across the clearing to park it close to the murky yellow pool. Six containers of Benzene sloshed in their plastic barrels impatient to be released.
The sky overhead was darkening fast. Sam was the first to step out of the truck. Surprised when the two deputies didn't come out Sam went on guard. The shotgun came up.
Reaching up he rubbed the back of his neck as a jolt of pain sliced through his head. His eyes scanned the clearing resting on the pool. A blue bolt of electricity rolled across the surface sending a spray of yellow sulphur licking at his boot. Swearing Sam jumped back out of reach. The pool stilled, the energy faded away leaving Sam wondering.
Hiding in the trees the demon spawn saw the truck, growling beneath his breath when it rolled up to the pool and stopped. Fear of the gate stopped it from attacking. He could wait knowing they would search for the men he attacked. Slipping back into the trees he circled wide not wanting to attract their attention.
"This is bad Sheriff," Sam whispered.
"Bad doesn't begin to cover it Sam," she mumbled back.
Overhead the sky cracked with lightening. Beneath his breath Sam counted the seconds until he heard the thunder. "2 - Dammit," he grumbled. The storm was closing in fast.
From the depths of the trees they heard a sharp moan as the blonde deputy fought to regain consciousness.
Melisandra sprinted the short distance toward the prone body of her deputy her breath catching in her throat at the sight. One side of his face was raw and bloody, a deep cut on his forehead bled freely. The worst of his injuries was a deep gouge in his right shoulder. The wound was torn the edges ragged and she could see his broken collarbone poking out. He moved beneath her touch. "Easy Baylor, take it easy," she urged him.
The sheriff pulled out her phone and hit 911 before handing it to Sam. Waiting he heard only static on the line before it went dead. Pulling out his own phone he started to dial when it rang in his hand surprised to see Dean's phone listed in Caller ID. Flipping it open he asked, "Dean."
Static cracked across the line. His brother's words were broken and barely understandable. "Get … hell … out," was all he heard.
Sam heard but he knew they couldn't and wouldn't leave an injured man behind. Hoping to be heard above the crackling static he yelled, "Dean we need an ambulance…"
"Starflight," Melisandra told him.
"Dean, the sheriff wants Starflight out here now." When he didn't hear Dean's voice he yelled into the phone. "Dean can you hear me?" The line was dead. Swearing softly he dialled again, but the call never went through. "The storm is wrecking havoc with the phones," he growled to the world in general.
"Shit," he swore loudly running toward the downed figure. "I found Nelson." The deputy lay crumpled at the base of a Spanish oak his eyes wide and frightened. The numbing venom had seeped into his veins, he was totally paralyzed. If not for his blinking eyes Sam would have thought him unconscious.
"Can he be moved," the sheriff shouted.
After doing a cursor exam and not finding anything broken he yelled, "Yeah." Checking for further injuries he found the deep slice along the man's neck. He saw the man's eyes go wider in fear if that was possible. Some sixth sense made him move. Rolling right he brought the shotgun up his finger caressing the trigger as the huge mottled brown monster pounced.
Ebony eyes filled with hatred were turned his way. "Holy crap," he yelled pumping both barrels into the creature's chest.
The demon scorpion staggered but didn't go down. Several of the pellets had found their way through the cracks in his shell. The pellets lodged in the membrane between the joints. It was a itch the demon creature couldn't seem to scratch. Screaming in rage he swung left hunting for his attacker. Furious he leaped forward. Almost too late the demon recognized the face of the man in the clearing. He pulled Nylan's hatred back under control. He needed the man alive, dead would not open the gate. A large claw swung out slamming into Sam's side
The hunter flinched sideways avoiding the full brunt of the blow, but the hit was hard enough to knock the breath from his lungs. Sam skidded sideways gasping for breath. Reaching for the Colt tucked in his waistband he fired several rounds into the creature. Grumbling he swore beneath his breath when the bullets skidded across the hard surface.
The creature screamed in triumph and leaped, taking the hunter to the ground. Cackling with glee the demon scorpion reached for his dazed victim and lifted him into the air.
Melisandra heard Sam's cry. Bringing the rifle up she sprinted toward the sound. Fear clutched at her heart when she saw the huge monster lift Sam into the air. Aiming for the creature's head she fired.
The demon scorpion flinched when the hard shell across into his forehead cracked. Flinging his captive away he spun to face the new attack. Nylan's memories took over blotting out all else. She was here, the hated enemy was close and he would have his revenge.
Sam spun out of control. Arms flailing wildly he tried to cushion his fall. He slammed into a rocky outcropping and slid to the ground. Fireworks exploded when the back of his head hit the rock, darkness closed in. Pushing himself up he fought to stay conscious but the agony in his head sent him spiralling into the dark abyss.
Melisandra saw Sam fall and hissed praying he was still alive. Scrambling for safety behind a large juniper tree she fired again. This time the bullet slammed into what might have been the creatures shoulder. She heard its hoarse screech of pain, but even that didn't slow the creatures attack.
Surging forward the furious creature slammed into the tree.
Melisandra backed away but heard the ominous crack as the tree trunk cracked and split. She watched in slow motion as the tree toppled toward her. Throwing herself to the side she could only hope to avoid the main blow.
The heavy branches hit her hard and took her to the ground trapping her beneath it. Air flew from her lungs. She bit back a cry of pain as a large limb dug into her shoulders and pinned her to the ground.
The demon scorpion cackled in glee as it hunted for the enemy. Tearing at the tree the creature's razor sharp claws stripped the limbs to reveal the treasure beneath.
Dazed by the fall Melisandra blinked to clear the haze from her vision. She swore when her fingers brought back only half of the high powered rifle. The other half lay crushed beneath the main trunk of the tree.
Overhead the sky grew black as the storm moved closer. Lightening flashed across the horizon followed closely by the explosion of thunder. The storm was here – the gate was ready.
oooOOOooo