Sorry, so I forgot to add a disclaimer and stuff to chapter 1. And although I tried to edit and add it later it doesn't appear to have stuck! (Should I mention now that I'm blonde and on my fanfic 'learners' plates?) So, if it's miraculously appeared since, sorry, I'll just be repeating myself, otherwise, here goes, my personal piece of author's drabble…
OK, so this is not my first fanfic perse, however the first I've ever posted, all else have been for my own pleasure. So basically I've finally scraped up the guts to actually open myself up to criticism… and praise (please)! This is the first piece of work I've allowed anyone else to read, bar myself, at least since I had to churn out copious pages of dribble in the form of English Lit essays at school.
Obviously don't own anything, except when my fingers grace my keyboard, then the Winchester boys are all mine to do with as I wish!
And in case you're wondering most place names (except a few obvious ones), all characters etc are fictitious.
I also like to bend and occasionally break certain literary, grammatical (and on very rare occasions, road) rules… like beginning a sentence, and a paragraph, no less, with the likes of 'and'! Forgive me if you're a stickler for the literary correct, I will at least try to correctly use my spell checker…
And, although I am probably beginning my literary adventure ass-about, I couldn't help myself… first and foremost I had to try and save Dean. I have a few different ideas on this one, so, perhaps before Kripke gets in there before me I can do a Loki and in true Groundhog Day tradition I may just save him in all manner and fashion.
No relation to, or friend, of anyone remotely connected with show, so no spoilers.
AND I won't spoil the conclusion, so I won't say if this is or isn't a Death!Fic.
I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I loved writing it.
Chrissymi.
CHAPTER 2
Greenwood, MISSISSIPPI.
"Hey Baby, as much as I'd like to go out right here in your embrace, I just can't bring myself to bloody up your interior. Sorry Baby, this is good bye." Dean caressed the Impala's dashboard with deep affection. The classic 67 Chevy was the only thing he could ever call home. No matter how good or bad a hunt, injured or otherwise, rain, hail or shine, she had always been his sanctuary. His one possession that grounded him in a life always spent on the road. "Don't worry, I left Sam a message, so he'd know where to find you… it may take a few days though, Baby. You look after Sammy, ok, behave yourself. And be patient with him, he doesn't know you and all your little subtle hints when something's not quite right. He'll look after you; just give him time to get to know you."
Dean had parked the Impala near Lloyd's Bar. The bar seemed deserted; there certainly weren't any cars about. However as Dean alighted the car he noticed a man sitting outside the bar, in the shadows of its verandah. He was rocking in a rocking chair, contently smoking a cigarette. The man was dressed in a black, pin striped suit and tie; however, strangely, he didn't look out of place. Rather he seemed to encompass a classic, 'bluesy' air. Dean could almost imagine him playing a guitar or a saxophone, or whatever. Dean nodded to the man in acknowledgement, although he did not expect the man to rise from his casual hiatus in the rocking chair. The man was tall and muscular and when he smiled his teeth looked as white as snow against his dark chocolate skin. He leered intensely from beneath his fedora as he approached Dean.
"Ain't open, man." He commented, sucking back on his cigarette and inhaling deeply as he openly coveted the Impala with a keen grin. "Not tonight." He exhaled the smoke with a long drawn out breath. The fumes swirled about the man in a hazy caressing embrace.
"No? That's ok." Dean replied as he concealed his car keys behind the wheel rim, under the guise of checking his shoe laces. The guy didn't seem to notice, his attention fixed more so on his cigarette stub for the time being. He stared intently at it as he turned what remained of the self-rolled butt between gloved fingers. "I was planning on taking a walk anyway." Dean explained.
Deep brown eyes, swimming in ivory pools and partially hidden beneath his hat's brim glanced back at him. The man nodded, gazing at the sky in thought. "Be dark soon." He stated, peering back at Dean with an air of mystery about him, smiling like a Cheshire cat. "Welcome to stay a while's, here, if'n you'd like." He tossed the waning cigarette stub away with a swift flick of his fingers.
There was something about the man that unnerved Dean; he was almost too polite, with a grin that verged on maniacal. 'Or maybe it was some really good weed the dude was inhaling!'
"Thanks, but I was looking to have some time to myself…" Dean muttered in response. He wasn't really in the mood for polite conversation; however he wasn't of a mind to offend the man either. He was just a little too creepy. "See you."
"Sure I will!" The man replied as he sat back down in the rocking chair, his sight fixed on Dean as he swaggered away. His eyes darkened with content as he lit up another cigarette and drew eagerly back once more, tilting his head back before exhaling the thick black smoke into the gentle, afternoon breeze.
Dean had every intention of walking a few miles down the road, maybe even to the next crossroads to await his fate, or somewhere off in the grass lands. He really didn't want Sam and Bobby finding his mauled remains. Once he was gone, he was gone; he didn't much care for a funeral. Technically he'd already had one of those when a shape shifter, that bore his resemblance, had been killed. But he had to know they'd find the Impala. He'd left Sam a message as to her location that he hoped Sam would probably get in the next day or so, once he and Bobby stopped running around like decapitated chickens as a result of his escapade, or so he thought. He just prayed nobody decided to steal his Baby before then, but then Lloyd's bar was pretty secluded, and hopefully the man there wasn't a car thief.
He took his whiskey bottle in hand, and secreted a packet of peanut M&M's in his jacket pocket. Then he began his final walk, chucking back a mouthful of M&Ms followed by a huge gulp of whiskey.
He glanced at the scenery as he ambled down the dusty, gravel road. It was mostly farming land, lush and green for the time being. 'Talk about The Green Mile' he mused to himself, chuckling at the irony of it, recalling the Tom Hanks movie about a rather special death row inmate. Dean wondered if there could be anyone around who could bring him back to life as well…
After an hour Dean found himself a peaceful spot under a huge overhanging tree. It wasn't quite at a crossroad, but then that wasn't exactly a prerequisite. He liked the view, and he was a fair way back from the road itself, and that would do. It was late afternoon, and the sun was getting low on the horizon, but the tree gave him ample shade. He sat down at the base of the trunk. After taking in the landscape he opened the whiskey bottle and took a long gulp. Then he grasped a handful of M&M's and began munching contently away.
And it struck him with some amusement, after just some ten minutes, that he was impatiently bored. He'd checked his watch three times already. He laughed at himself, who'd have thought he'd be eager for this to be over, but then the waiting was nerve wracking. He didn't like to wait at the best of times, but waiting to die… yep, he just wanted it over with. Like waiting at the dentist, no matter how much he dreaded the procedure, he still wanted it done. If his fate couldn't be changed, then just get it over and done with! And besides, his ass was going numb!
As the shadows grew longer across the road, and the nearing gloaming cast a hazy brilliance over the countryside Dean was sure he saw something very big and black moving through the bushes to his right. There was a hint of a breeze, however the bushes rustled with greater intensity, as if something was moving through them. He knew they were there, waiting for him, the Hell Hounds had come.
Dean fingered his colt with affection. His trembling fingers ran over the cool silver metal work, savoring its engraved beauty as he caressing the well worn ivory handle. It had once been his father's, and that alone made it one of his few prized possessions. And John had had it for years before Azazel had destroyed their lives, and probably the only thing, aside from the Impala that had a vague connection to a life with his mother as well. John had given it to him on his 18th birthday, and although it was more of a desperate ruse to gloss over the fact that he'd actually forgotten Dean's birthday, John's eldest son had almost been brought to tears by his father's gesture. He checked that it was loaded, even though he'd done the same just a few minutes earlier. He just needed to be sure she'd be reliable when the time came. Not that he planned to use it on the Hounds, he already knew that would be futile. But he figured he'd have to wait for the hounds to come for him, before he put the muzzle to his head, just incase suicide - at least too ahead of time - could be deemed welching. He'd staunchly promised himself the hounds wouldn't take his final breath, wouldn't tear him apart, or rip his throat out whilst his heart still pumped blood through his living body. He'd deny them the agony of such a death; he'd suffered enough in his short years. No, the Crossroad Demon wasn't going to get his suffering as well, that was his; all his.
Time passed slowly, although eventually he sat in almost complete darkness. The moon was out, as if to witness Dean's final moments, and had bloomed into a full circle just for the occasion. The dim light was at least some small compensation to the blinding darkness.
He could hear the Hell Hounds again, lurking in the bushes that lined the roadside. He'd heard their unmistakable, low guttural growls, had for some time now, ever since the sun went down. And he was pretty sure he'd seen their glowing red eyes through the vegetation too. They were obviously waiting; biding their time until his was up…
Ruby and Sam arrived at Lloyd's Bar well into the night. The ride had been long and grueling. Every bone in Sam's body felt as if it had been shaken to almost snapping point. As impressive as her bike was, its suspension was almost non-existent. And Ruby's control of the bike, although extraordinarily adept, was nerve wracking to say the least. She barely stopped; pushing the bike beyond its manufacturing limits, tearing across the country side at speeds worthy of a stealth jet. Sam was awe-struck that they'd made it there alive at all. But they had made extremely good time!
The two stops they were forced to make on the way, so that Sam could relieve his stomach of its mostly alcoholic contents, was a sore spot for them both. She didn't seem to need to stop; not for food or water or for the Ladies Room. And she begrudgingly did so under verbal duress for Sam. She was part freaking Terminator, he was sure.
When they finally pulled up outside Lloyd's Bar both were near the end of their tethers. However the relief that swept over Sam, when he spotted the Impala, washed away every minute ache and woe. Until they found Dean gone… again! Lloyd's Bar was closed, and no-one was in sight.
Sam searched every inch of the grounds surrounding the near century old building. And when Dean still wasn't found he began to pick the lock to search inside.
"He's not here Sam." Ruby was adamant. "You're just wasting time."
"How can you know that?" Sam spat at her in desperation.
Ruby simply glared at him in response, rolling her eyes. Of course she knew, she was a demon, and demons knew these kinds of things… they had senses far beyond a human.
"He's gotta be here." Sam sighed as his lock picking tools simply didn't respond to his request to open the door.
"Let's go." She stated simply. "He can't have gone far."
Sam eventually nodded in acceptance. "I'll take the car." He stated. "You got any idea where he went?" He hoped she could tap into her demon senses and pull out an answer.
She squinted into the dark and scoured each of their four possibilities, at the crossroads. "That way." She eventually said confidently as she mounted her Harley. Sam peered down the road, but saw nothing but pitch black.
"You sure?" Sam queried, partially skeptical, partly awestruck.
"M&M's that way." She smirked confidently as she pointed down the road. And although Sam focused his sight into the darkness, still at a loss at what she had seen, she smiled. She could see the two brightly colored spheres, one yellow, one red, lying in the center of the road, even if he couldn't.
Sam had to nod with admiration, if not dumbstruck awe.
Ruby tore off long before Sam had time to approach the Impala; he would have to haul ass or risk loosing her altogether.
"Damn you Ruby…" He sprinted to the car as fast as his long legs could carry him. He was relieved to find Dean had left the keys secreted behind the wheel rim of the driver's side, front fender, as he usually did. He gratefully ripped the Impala's door open and hurled himself inside.
Like a man possessed he sped the car, at breakneck speed, to catch up with Ruby. She had a good head start, and he feared he'd never catch her. He blindly followed her. She was out of sight and he had no real idea if she was still ahead of him, or if he was even heading in the right direction. His only comforting thought was that he hadn't come to any further crossroads or alternative routes as he sped through the night, tearing up the road in his haste. He had traveled a few miles before he finally spotted a small pin prick of light far off in the distance. Ruby's headlight, he hoped. He pushed the car faster, racing up behind her.
Dean sat beneath the tree and skulled large mouthfuls of the exquisite whiskey, rolling the velvety liquid around his mouth in appreciation. He was intent on relishing every last intoxicating drop in lieu of his escape-determined restraint of the night before! He was going to drown away the growing sense of doom that had filled him, and was now growing like a cancerous disease in the pit of his stomach. The alcohol was warm and dizzyingly calming in his current predicament. He'd sit there all evening if need be, intent on consuming the entire remains of the bottle, or at least until the Hounds came. It had been 2/3s full to begin with, although wasn't quite so any more. The whiskey gave him an all over dulled sensation that helped alleviate the uncomfortable numbness that had set into his ass.
Dean smiled to himself as he recalled Bobby and Sam's drunken antics of the night before, however despite their inebriation they maintained a steady abstinence from the topic of death or demons. And even though he knew their jovial laughter and repartee were a forced façade, Dean basked in their humor. He had to scrounge for a handful of happy memories to focus on, to stamp out the impending horrors that tried to force their way into his thoughts with every rustle in the bushes, and every low, guttural growl from the shadows.
He sat gazing at the faded photo his dad had once carried with him; of his dad, and Sam and he, when they were just kids, sitting on the Impala's hood; about as happy as a dysfunctional family could be. It was one of the few photos he had of any of the Winchesters. And he regretted that a little now. It would have been nice to remember some of their happier times, and there weren't that many that he'd need a particularly large photo album.
As he made sure that the pistol was loaded once more, and checked the time, again, Dean heard a deep muffled humming. Not quite that of the hounds, he was sure. The noise urged him to peer into the darkness for a source. It wasn't long before he saw a solitary light well off in the distance. It was completely dark, and lacking any kind of street lights or even any nearby houses, the road was completely cloaked in darkness. The full moon was his only amnesty to the all-consuming shadows. He sucked back another mouthful of whiskey as he watched the small pin-prick of light round a bend, some distance away and head towards him. It came from Lloyd's. The bright white orb of light grew larger, and the droning noise got louder. He hadn't anticipated company. But then it wasn't likely to be Sam or Bobby, not on a motor bike at any rate. And there wasn't anyone else he could think of. His mounting alcohol induced stupor did nothing to alleviate the intrigue. Maybe just a local…maybe the man from Lloyd's Bar.
This was the first vehicle to come his way all day. It was difficult not to fear that it had something to do with him. It was almost midnight; execution time Dean figured, as it was pretty much midnight when he'd struck the deal. So it was a little concerning that even if it was just an innocent passer-by, they could be in real danger if the Hounds decided to make an appearance.
Dean stood up, intent on hiding himself from the intruder, and moved into the concealing shadows of the tree.
Ruby skidded to an impressive halt, in a wake of gravel and dust, although only just saving herself from sliding out… with unnatural strength, as the bike skidded on the gravel. She hadn't anticipated finding Dean just yet, as Lloyd's Bar was only a few miles or so back. But here he was, in the middle of nowhere, apparently trying to play hide and seek. However such games were difficult to engage in when you played with a demon. She sensed him well before her demonic eyes spied him in the shadows. If she hadn't been a demon, chances were she'd have missed him altogether. Although Sam was still a way back, penalty for trying to fold his mile long legs into the Impala she speculated.
Dean watched as the obviously female rider kept the bike from spilling her halfway across the road. As far as he was concerned she controlled the weight of the Harley far too well for her slight frame and immediately he became suspicious.
Once she had stopped though, and seemed to be peering directly at him, Dean made himself known. He was already half smashed if his dazed and groggy stance was any indication. The bottle hung limply from his hand as he glared at the intruder of his solitude.
She casually leant her bike slightly to one side, to gain a firm foot hold, as she removed her black, visor helmet and shook her hair free. Dean became even more skeptical.
"Ruby? What, the hell?" Dean began to snap at her angrily as he stepped towards her.
"Dean." She grinned at him.
His advance halted within a couple of steps and then he staggered backwards as her face stretched and faded to pale grey and her eyes blackened to hollow cavities. His fears and suspicions escalated. "You've come for me?" Dean snarled at her as he cocked his gun and aimed it at her. "I shoulda known you had some kind of ulterior motive! You've been stringing us along all this time!"
"Dean I didn't come to…" She began to explain.
"What the hell are you?" Dean demanded as her features grew more evil in appearance. "I can see your true form now. Stay away from me!"
"I haven't come to kill you." She chided, remaining perched on her bike, her hands held up in surrender. "I'm here to try and save you." Mind-you, she thought, saving Dean had become something of a pre-occupation lately, and a damned thankless one at that!
"You lying bitch, you already said you couldn't!" He accused. Dean staggered away from her even though her face miraculously morphed back to normal. He knew something was up, something evil to the core.
He was stunned when the Impala eventually pulled up in front of him. For a split second he almost thought the car was possessed or the like; like Stephen King's 'Christine' and had followed him there. Until Sam gingerly alighted the car, still on unsteady legs, uncomfortably cramped from an inadequate amount of leg space, or time to move the car seat back. He was weary, hung over and half starved.
"Sam?" Dean queried with genuine bewilderment. "What the hell?… How… what are you doing here?"
"We're here to try and help you." Sam replied. "And besides, don't you think I'd want to be here… for you."
Dean gazed at Sam with choking affection. It was damned good to see him again, he certainly hadn't expected to ever again. "Help me?" He eventually croaked out.
"Yeah Dean. Ruby thinks…" Sam began to explain what they were doing there, however Dean cut him short.
"Ruby? Sam, she's evil! An evil, lying, demon Bitch!" Dean exclaimed.
"Again with the Bitch routine!" Ruby muttered acerbically. Just how many times did she have to save their butts for either one of the Winchesters to treat her with just a little respect?
As Dean gazed at Sam's perplexed expression his pistol suddenly snapped towards his brother instead of Ruby, as the younger Winchester's face melted and distorted just as hers had. Sam's face contorted until his features twisted into something that looked like Death itself. "What the hell are you?" He demanded again, suddenly suspecting Sam and Ruby were both demons. He raised the colt and aimed at Sam's perverted face, hesitantly ready to shoot.
"Dean, NO!" Ruby intervened as she realized what had suddenly freaked the elder Winchester out. "What you're seeing, they're just hallucinations, it's the Hounds, they're doing it to you. It's really Sam… you have to trust me on that."
"No… evil… you're evil… you're both evil!" Dean stammered in horror. Their faces began to steep in horror, distorting like melting wax work dummies. He staggered backwards, stumbling over the tree's exposed roots and almost ending up on his ass. As he overbalanced his pistol discharged as he fumbled for a firm foot hold. The shot flew well above their heads, the noise swallowed by the vast openness of their location. However both Sam and Ruby ducked for cover.
"Dean, NO!" Sam pleaded, alarmingly more nervous. Dean drunk and scared was never a good combination. "She's right, remember Evan Hudson? He had the same visions… remember… please?" Sam urged, hoping Dean would recall some of the finer details of the hunt.
Dean shook his head clear of the apparition. And Sam and Ruby returned to normal. He kind of recalled something about visions of death accompanying the Hell Hounds. "Visions?"
"Hallucinations remember?" Sam pleaded.
"Sam, is it really you?" Dean queried nervously, everything about him seemed to spin and sway unnaturally. It didn't quite strike him that he may have consumed a little too much of the whiskey and was now hallucinating instead!
"Yeah, it's me… Sam" He reassured his ailing brother.
"Just… hallucinations?" Dean muttered.
"Yeah." Sam confirmed, however Dean remained tense and kept a firm grip on his pistol. "Trust me. You know it's me… don't you?"
Dean seemed to relax a fraction. "Hallucination…" he whispered, trying to convince himself as he cautiously lowered his gun.
"Look… There might still be a way." Ruby interrupted, impatiently maneuvering her bike around to Dean's side. "To save you."
Dean glared at her angrily. He'd already resolved himself to dying, tonight, and he didn't appreciate her eleventh hour grasp at straws. He could hear a low growl from somewhere in the undergrowth, and a distinct impatient rustle from the bushes that concealed it. The Hounds seemed to have become restless at the arrival of uninvited guests. God help her if her foolhardy last bid had endangered Sam as well… "I think you're a bit late." He snarled at her.
"No, we're not. Not as long as you're still breathing! Let's go! Get on!" She urged him with haste, putting her helmet back on, and pushing the visor back to speak. "Sam, get in the car!"
"No, we should go together!" Sam snapped back in objection. "In the car!"
"There's no time! They're coming. Just try to keep up!" She snapped back impatiently. "The bike will be quicker."
"No!" Dean objected resolutely. "I can't… I can't welch on this, you know that! Sammy…"
"I didn't think the Crossroad Bitch had said anything about not trying to run!" She retorted anxiously. "As far as I know you don't have to make this easy for them."
"That's true." Sam added. "George Darrow managed to fend them off, must have been for over a week…"
Dean tentatively took the helmet from Ruby and spied it with distain.
"Trust me, you'd better." Sam advised nodding at the helmet. Although her riding skills were unnaturally good, riding shotgun with Ruby was one hair raising ordeal!
Dean shook his head with skepticism. "Seriously, how long do you think I can run for?"
"As long as it takes…" Ruby frowned impatiently. "Sam you wanna call Bobby for me?" She asked, holding her hand out in anticipation.
Sam pulled his cell phone from his jacket pocket and dialed, and then he passed the phone over to Ruby. It must have been answered almost immediately.
"Bobby?... No Ruby… Are you ready?..." She queried. "Yeah, we've got him." She replied anxiously. "Yeah… A few hours." She answered another garbled query. "Yeah, Ok… Good."
She pocketed the phone as she revved the bike impatiently.
Dean spun around cautiously as the bushes rustled and he heard a low guttural growl that was clearly audible on the still night air, even above the low rumble of her bike. Ruby's attention scanned the edge of the bushes, also hearing them. She searched for the hounds she could already feel, by instinct, to be there. She was rewarded by a long cool red-eyed glare from an eager hound. Sam stood with bewilderment, unable to either see or hear them, but knowing they were there, somewhere.
"For as long as it takes… let's just move it!" She grabbed Dean by the arm and dragged him closer towards her bike. "Get on! NOW! You can at least try… for Sam!" She urged him quietly.
"Why are you doing this?" He demanded as he straddled the bike behind her and pulled the helmet on. He kept a watchful eye on Sam as he sprinted back towards the Impala, fearful the hounds may go him instead.
"Maybe I've grown attached to that cute little ass of yours…and your snide, derogatory remarks!" She quipped back as she revved the bike and raced away down the dark, dirt road. "Maybe I just don't want to see Sammy heart broken. Or maybe I just hate the Crossroad Bitch and her master!" She screamed to him over the loud roar of the Harley. Dean barely managed to grip her waist as he was thrust back with the momentum of her acceleration.
"Thanks…" Dean replied, gripping on to her for dear life, his appreciation lost in the noise of the Harley.
Sam raced back to the Impala. His long legs carried him in lengthy strides. The Chevy roared to life at his request and when he slammed his foot to the pedal the classic car leapt forward with such momentum Sam had to clench his fists around the steering wheel to stay seated.
As he tore away, the bushes by the roadside exploded in a flurry of leaves and branches as the Hell Hounds broke through the shrubbery. Although Sam was oblivious to their appearance, they raced past the Impala in long bounding strides, hot on the trail of Ruby and Dean. They were intent on stopping the fugitive.
There were three hounds, obviously the Crossroad Demon wasn't about to take any chances with its prized new soul. The huge beasts leapt behind the Harley as Ruby opened the bike up, full throttle, tearing down the road like a bat out of hell. Dean dared a glance back at his executioners. Their red eyes glowed through the darkness of the night, and their massive fanged jaws snapped at his heels, their pace easily keeping stride with the escapees. Up close they were as large as bears, their long, shaggy, black pelts glistened in the moon light, their lengthy lean legs, bounded gracefully in full flight as their jaws snapped at his side and crimson eyes pinned their sights entirely upon him.
"Faster!" Dean snapped his visor up and screamed into the wind tearing at his face with icy, razor quips. "FASTER!" He could feel their growls reverberate through his spine, and their icy rancid breath panting by his side, they were so close on their heels. He knew he wasn't going to make it. Their vain attempt at escape was a mere Sunday jog in the park for the mystically swift hounds. He tightened his embrace about Ruby's slender waist as she drove defensively, swerving from side to side in an attempt to avoid the Hound's murderous assault. Dean's eyes fixed on the harbingers of death and expected the inevitable.
Sam was ignorant to the hounds that skirted the bike, snapping at his brother's ankles. But he could see by the way Ruby swerved and weaved across the road, and Dean's wild expression and constant glances at his side that they were most certainly there. He hadn't thought they'd come for him quite so soon. He'd hoped they'd be too far away for them to even find Dean…
Ruby glanced at the hounds, startled by how close they were; suddenly wishing she'd coaxed Sam into relinquishing the Colt. She tucked her head down and pushed the bike to its limits and it leapt away faithfully, pulling away from the hounds, and the Impala, like they were standing still.
They seemed to have made a clean break, leaving the hounds in their wake, until suddenly Dean grunted, and his grip around her waist tugged at her. Then abruptly he was yanked from behind her. She fishtailed slightly on the thick gravel as she banked a corner. Then the world tumbled ass over in front of her. She was unexpectedly airborne, and the bike left her grasp with an abrupt jerk. The sounds of metal twisting and screeching, and screams of agony filled her ears as she somersaulted across the road and down a grassy embankment. At first she lay still, gasping for breath and staring at the immense ivory glow of the full moon above her. Pain wracked her body, her leather pants barely offering adequate protection, and her jacket torn to shreds, revealing bloodied elbows and palms. She lay still until she could force the pain away, injuries swiftly healed by her underworld abilities. Then her mind and senses returned and she sprang to her feet. She yanked her helmet off with ease, as she leapt up the low grassy bank and back onto the road she paused in horror.
Dean had seen the crucial moment as if it were in slow motion; the moment that would, most certainly, be the portent of his ultimate and gory demise. The largest of the Hell Hounds had made up the waning distance effortlessly. It snarled at Dean as it matched their pace with ease, its huge red eyes glaring him down in admonishment at his futile escape attempts. As it sprinted by his side Dean could see as its muscles contracted and bunched and the hound concentrated all its strength into one massive bound, lunging sideways at him mid-leap. Its huge fanged jaws widened and clamped down upon his right thigh. The immense span of its maw easily girthed his leg. With a sharp snap of its head, as it hunched to a halt, its huge paws digging into the gravel of the road, the demonic canine ripped its victim from the bike.
The Hounds had caught their prey and their huge fanged jaws tore into their struggling victim's flesh. Ruby winced in horror. Dean was pinned helplessly to the ground, just meters from the mangled wreck of her bike. One huge, black brute ripped at his thigh, another tore at his left shoulder whilst he tried desperately to fend the beasts off. The third mauled his right forearm, its crushing gnaw tearing through both flesh and bone in its savagery. Their fangs ripped through his soft tissue like a surgeon's scalpel. He struggled to retrieve his pistol, secreted down his jeans waistband, the hound's grasp on his shoulder restricting any such movement. As resigned as he was to die, with his thoughts filled with renewed hope, Dean wasn't about to let the Hell Hounds take his final breath, and as instincts kicked in, he wasn't about to go out without a fight either. As long as they couldn't get his damned helmet off, his throat was reasonable well protected from their oversized, snapping jaws, although the hounds seemed unperturbed and savaged him where they could with unhindered ease. They tugged at his limbs, threatening to draw and quarter him, whilst Dean screamed in agony.
Sam slammed the Impala to a screeching halt, mere feet from Dean's writhing body. He sprang from the Impala before the car had even come to a complete stop and gasped with horror as he saw as both Dean's clothes and flesh ripped apart, and blood swiftly gushed from the open wounds. The elder Winchester thrashed around with his invisible attackers, and although muffled by the helmet, shrieks of agony were torn from his screaming lips.
Sam fumbled for the Colt, not knowing where to shoot until Ruby ripped the pistol free from his grasp and blasted a shot into the Hound closest. Its grasp upon Dean's shoulder abated and the creature howled in pain and convulsed into death at his side. The remaining two spun around in unison and glared at her with eyes of fiery hell. Their huge stature dwarfing their recoiling victim, paws, as large as saucers, pinned Dean firmly to the ground.
With their momentary pause Dean was able to rip his colt from his waistband. He snapped the pistol up, and with a pain-trembling hand he blasted at the closest hound. The beast reeled around from the sheer force of the shot, although, it hardly made a dent on the creature or its deadly purpose. It swiftly limped back to its feet and then sprang back towards him with savage determination. It was angry and injured, and intent on swift retribution. Ruby shot at it, as it leapt into the air, with its gaping maw lunging at Dean. It was halted mid leap by the blast, its carcass skidding to the ground by Dean's side as its final breath was forced from its lungs by the impact. She spun around swiftly and plugged another shot into the third's chest. The Hound cart wheeled away from Dean's writhing silhouette and came to a gory halt several feet from the maimed hunter, all signs of life extinguished.
Sam froze with fear, oblivious to the Hounds, or their demise, but seeing all too well the damage they had inflicted on his brother.
As the landscape stilled and silence enveloped them Ruby trembled with fear. An iciness had descended upon them, and the sky grew eerily dark as clouds passed across the moon. She spun around cautiously, awaiting another onslaught. Every fiber of her being screamed at her that something else lay in wait for them, for Dean. Something else was there with them. She peered into the darkness of the shadows, into the thick foliage that lined the road and could almost make out the dark and menacing figure of something far more evil…
"Dean?" Sam hitched through an almost sob. Still stunned and weary of the hounds he couldn't see, he edged forward cautiously.
"They're dead…" She barely finished before Sam lunged forward. Ruby raced to Dean's side, close on Sam's heels, to find Dean gasping desperately for breath, as he clutched at his savaged chest with a bloody hand. Sam raised his lolling head into his lap, carefully removing the helmet. Dean gazed at Sam with pleading, desperate eyes. As oblivion encroached, Dean consoled himself that at least his last sight was that of Sam. As his eyes rolled back in defeat Ruby grabbed him by his jacket lapels and hauled him into a sitting position. A small avalanche of M&M's tumbled from his pocket in protest.
"You're not dying on me Dean!" She demanded as she continued to drag him to his feet with ease. "Get up!"
Dean hadn't the breath to speak, the brutality of her action's stunning him with pain, however his cold icy glare in retaliation expressed every ounce of anger and loathing he had for the interfering demoness. Couldn't she just let him die in peace?
Sam tried to object to the manhandling; however a swift glance from Ruby had him take a step back. She was serious, deadly serious… Black-eyed, demon serious.
"Something else is here, and close by!" She informed them with dour gravity, her demonic eyes scanned the countryside, looking for what every nerve in her body told her was there. "We gotta go, NOW!"
"What?" Sam dared to ask. "What is it?"
"I'm not sure, but it's big and it's bad!" She snapped back.
She wrapped her arm under Dean's and began to drag him back along the road as Sam came to their aid. Dean staggered and lurched in their firm grasp as his mauled thigh and calf refused to bear his weight. He fell to his knees twice, however, their resolute grip hoisted him back to his feet, with no scope for argument. His rescuers ignored his anguished moans of agony, although he fought desperately to suppress the pain. They hauled him all the way back to the Impala where Ruby shoved him unceremoniously into the back seat.
Without a word, Ruby jumped into the driver's seat and revved the Chevy's engines. Sam barely had time to get himself into the car, shoving Dean further across the seat to do so, before she sped away. They were launched into the air as she impacted with the carcass of one of the downed Hell Hounds. She gave her trashed bike a fleeting scowl of remorse as she raced past and sped into the night. The Impala's rear lights glowing just as red as the Hounds eye's had done just minutes ago.
Dean slouched against Sam, grasping at his wounds, clutching desperately as too much blood oozed through his fingers. The elder Winchester glanced at the thick crimson that coated his hand like house paint. "Can't be good…" He muttered to Sam, gulping down another groan, as he leant back against his brother's firm supporting shoulder.
As Ruby urged the Impala to full speed she flipped open Sam's phone. "Yeah, Bobby?" She eventually said. "We had a bit of trouble." She gave Dean a cursory glance in the rear view mirror as she listened to a query from the hunter. "Yeah, the hounds. They're dead, but there'll be more." She sighed. "No, not quite, he's hurt; better get your first aid box ready." More garbled talk came from Bobby. "Sam? He's fine. Only Bobby… Something else is here…. No I don't know for sure. Better be ready for anything… Ok." Ruby replied as she flipped the phone closed and frowned in contemplation at the winding road ahead of her. Her sights went to the petrol gauge and to her relief the Impala's tanks were near full, because she didn't want to have to stop for anything.
"There'll be more?" Dean groaned. "More Hounds?"
"Yeah." She sighed. "Plenty more where they came from." She avoided his gaze in the rear view mirror.
"We can't stop them forever." He winced back with a smile of bravado.
"Yes we can." Sam consoled as he lifted Dean's jacket away from the wounds to his shoulder and grimaced at the gory sight. "We can try."
"No…" She corrected. "I doubt that we can. But hopefully they'll only send so many, before they give up."
"You think they… will give up?" Dean asked hopefully, patting Sam's probing hand away.
"The hounds give up? No… probably not." She muttered. "Not unless they're instructed to stop."
"Then why?" He moaned, in confusion. "Can't… run… forever."
"Because we can beat them…" She stated confidently. She glanced at him now, seemingly nervous and quite serious.
"No point… I think… I'm done for…" Dean sighed as he clutched at the warm stickiness that bathed his chest and shoulder in excruciating pain. His leg trembled uncontrollably with agony and his right forearm seared with what felt like the very fires of Hell. But it was the icy chill that crept slowly through his body that told him… the reaper was stalking him too. He was loosing far too much blood!
"No you're not. It's just a couple of flesh wounds, Dean…" Sam encouraged, although he knew they were far worse, not quite sure who he was trying to convince...
"You think… they'll just give up… sending the hounds… after me?" Dean winced, his voice coming in tortured gasps as he clutched his injured arm protectively to his chest.
"Yeah, then maybe He'll send his wenches, but hopefully we'll stop them too. Until, eventually He'll come for you himself. Then we'll have the Colt ready and waiting." She replied with strained optimism as she stroked the Colt sitting across her lap.
"He, who?" Dean queried as he bit back another groan as Sam peeled bloody strips of fabric from his lacerated forearm.
"The Crossroad Demon." She replied.
"I thought He… was a she." Dean muttered, glaring at Sam in a feeble indication to quit with his examination.
"He, she, depends on your preference… They're just his cronies. I'm talking about, the boss, whoever it is that holds your contract." She mused. "From what I've heard, my guess is on Kalfu though. He's pretty rife at the Crossroads at the moment. But there are others. Kalfu's a real nasty piece of work though… a conniving, devious tormenter."
"Great…" Dean groaned. "And the Crossroad Bitch?" Dean winced; she was kind of hot really, but definitely a bitch.
"Which one?" Ruby frowned. "Kalfu's so busy now-a-days he has a heap of minions do his negotiating. Although, now-a-days, one less; I hear Sam, you already executed Cassandra."
"Cassandra? Yeah…" Sam grunted, devoid of any remorse. Unfortunately it had done them – Dean – no good…
Dean's head lolled groggily against Sam's shoulder as unconsciousness fought to claim him.
"Stay with me Dean." Sam instructed shaking him by the shoulder. A searing pain surged through Dean's arm and shoulder, radiating swiftly down his torso and elicitating a sudden hissed gasp of pain. His eyes widen in painful incredulity at Sam's brutal instruction.
"Sorry Dude..." Sam apologized. "You gotta stay awake… for me."
Ruby glanced at the brothers from the rear view mirror. She flicked the radio on to the sounds of AC/DC's 'Highway to Hell' and chuckled softly to herself with the irony. She checked the rear view mirror with a concerned scowl. Whatever she had sensed had frightened her to the core.
As the Impala sped off, a tall dark man revealed himself from the nearby bushes. She'd stared right at him, sensed him in the darkness, however he'd concealed himself well enough that she couldn't quite see him. He strode to the center of the road where his hounds lay massacred. He had others with him, huge black beasts that whimpered at their pack-members' demise. They sniffed at the fresh pools of human blood and a deadly blood-lust swelled in their fiery red eyes. Slowly he crouched down and plucked a number of spilled M&M's from the ground. He rubbed them between the fingers of his black-gloved hands and fell into contemplation. So far things had actually turned out still to his advantage, though not quite as smoothly as he had hoped. He offered the small treat to the closest hound and it gobbled the chocolate candy up eagerly. He indicated to another Hound to pursue his fleeing fugitive.
As he disappeared back into the shadows, the carcasses of the executed hounds slowly vanished in a thick black cloud of smoke.
TBC