A/N: Here's chapter two…at the moment, I don't have my laptop, so I'm using the PC and it's stuffed, so I apologize if anything's bodgy. Enjoy chapter two (which I wrote at school today instead of actually doing my work, LOL)
SUPERNATURAL
THE SPEAR OF DESTINY
CHAPTER TWO-Death:
The mirror sailed over the balcony, the sun glimmering as it fell through the air.
The demon, which was pawing at the glass almost succeeded in breaking through, but the mirror landed on the hood of the cab and smashed, causing an unsuspecting Chas to jump in surprise.
John sighed in relief as the girl returned to her senses. He reached for his left cigarette, but to his dismay, found that it had burnt down.
This had most definitely not been his day.
He pulled another and lit it instead as he descended the stairs, ready to leave.
Something stopped him. A drawing pinned to a notice board.
It was a weapon of sorts, John knew it, but he couldn't think of it at that particular point.
He shrugged and exited into the daylight.
He reached the cab to find Chas inspecting the damage.
The kid had the hood lifted and was currently punching the base to shake off the glass as he approached.
"John, why would you do that when you know it's not my car?" he asked moodily, slamming the hood.
"I told you to move it," John replied with a smirk as he got into the backseat.
"Yeah, John. You told me to move it…but if you would've told me there was a 300 pound mirror you were dropping with a pissed off demon, I would've moved it further," he started the car.
"Take Avarardo." John instructed.
"Yeah thank you John," Chas snapped, slamming the car into gear. "I know what to take,"
"Sammy, is it over?" Dean asked, holding his brother as he trembled beneath him.
"Yeah…I think…" he muttered, trying to sit up.
"Take it easy Hun," Jo said softly, rubbing his back gently, trying to slow his breathing.
"What did ya see Haley Joel?" The elder Winchester asked.
"An exorcism…well kind off. It was unlike anything we have ever…hunted before. It was still a demon, but it was like a body in a body. It had a corporeal form," Sam explained, rubbing is head as though it would quell his vision induced headache.
"Weird," Dean muttered, helping his brother to his feet. "Go lie down sasquatch, you look like hell,"
"Thanks bro, I love you too," Sam mumbled piling into bed.
He was asleep before his head hit the pillow.
Dean smiled slightly. "Yeah, likewise kiddo."
OoOoOoOoOoO
Dean sighed and scrubbed a hand over his weary, slightly stubbled face.
He turned slightly to look at his brother, who was tossing fitfully.
"Is he gonna be alright?" Jo inquired, stepping out of the bathroom, wearing a mini tank top and a pair of black boy-leg shorts.
Dean closed the laptop carefully and turned. "Yeah…he always gets like this after a vision. I'm just…" he trailed off and looked away, the worry was written clearly on his handsome face.
Jo pulled her damp hair into a pony tail and sat her petite form on his lap.
"Worried," she finished for him. "I know you are, he's your brother." She moved his face gently so she could peer into his eyes.
They had been going out for three months and Jo still wasn't used to the pained expression that appeared in his eyes when Sam or herself were in danger.
The blonde woman gently kissed the tip of his freckled nose.
"C'mon. Lets get some sleep baby…Sammy'll be okay," she assured, taking his hand and pulling him to his feet.
Dean smiled softly and pulled her into his body. "You somehow always manage to make me feel better, sweetheart," he muttered, picking her up and carrying her to their shared bed.
"Of course I do. I'm adorable!" she said winking as a cheeky grin spread across her face.
Dean chuckled, pulled the quilt back and placed her into bed. "Yes, you are," he agreed, climbing in next to her.
"G'night baby," Jo said, giving him a quick kiss on the lips.
"Sleep well Jo," Dean replied softly, before slipping into a blissful, welcome unconsciousness.
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Myra Harvalle-Winchester (for that is what they now called her) squeezed her eyes shut against the pain of the medication.
For the past three months, she had been locked up in the psychiatric wing of West Virginia field's county hospital, and all she wanted, more than anything, was to be free.
For the past few nights, something had been calling for her, crying her name in meek desperation.
Myra sighed and stood in her room, pacing like a caged tiger.
"I need to get out of here." She muttered. "I need to be free,"
She glanced longingly at the door and with fierce determination, pushed at the locking mechanism with her mind.
There was a satisfying click as it swung slowly outward.
With a sad smile, she exited, peering cautiously down the stark, antiseptic white corridor.
Once she was certain that she was unlikely to be seen, she stalked toward the stairs, a little way down the hall.
Up and up and up she went, faster and faster. By now, tears of regret were splashing down her face. Her sister and brothers would understand.
They knew what the darkness had done to her. She should've stayed in Silent Hill.
Myra burst out the door and onto the roof, breathing heavily as she neared the edge.
She wasn't scared, but glad.
She would be free of her burden, and so would her half siblings.
She turned to the camera she knew would record her death.
The dark haired woman took the hospital ID band of her wrist and muttered the name that had been running through her consciousness for several weeks now. "Constantine."
She let go of the band and it fluttered away on the wind. A tear leaked from her bright eyes as she turned and let her balance go.
Myra fell backwards, savouring the sweet wind as it rushed by, but felt naught as she crashed through the glass roof, fifteen stories below, thus splashing into a pool.
No, she hadn't felt it. She had accepted the cold wings of death well before she hit the glass.
She had welcomed it.
Not too far away, Joanna Harvalle woke with a scream.
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Dean and Sam had been pulled from their slumber by Jo's ear-splitting scream.
Tears rushed down her face as her memory replayed to her, all that she had seen.
The elder Winchester gripped her arms, whilst Sam sat behind her, rubbing her back.
"Shhh Jo, it was just a bad dream. Just a nightmare." Dean soothed, running his hands up and down her arms.
She shook her head vigorously.
"Nonononononono." She muttered. "Not after all this,"
"What sweetheart?" Dean asked. More tears slipped forth.
"Myra…she's dead," she sobbed.
Sam gripped her shoulders. "No she's not Jo. It was a dream. Just a dre—"
The youngest was cut off by the shrill ring of Jo's cell phone.
She jumped up and ran across the room to where her phone was charging. She flipped it open and pressed it to her ear.
"H-hello?" She asked shakily.
"Joanna Harvalle?" came a male voice.
"Y-yeah…speaking?" Jo replied, her heart sinking even as she spoke.
"This is Detective Peter Garret from the Brahams county police force. I'm sorry that I have to inform you of this miss, but Myra Stephanie Winchester-Harvalle is dead. We need you to identify the body, if you could just come down to the station, when you're ready,"
Jo made a choking sound deep in her throat as the phone slipped from her hand and cluttered to the ground.
"Jo?" Dean ventured.
The woman didn't answer.
With a sob, she reefed thhe motel door open and disappeared into the night...
TBC...
Hope you liked! Please review! constructive critism is always welcome!