AN: Here's the next installment. Still angsty, not too much funny Dean or Alec, but we figure out what's keeping Ben here.
Chapter 8
Jimmy prayed feverishly for God to deliver him of this place. Crossing himself and opening his eyes, he looked around at the smelly 6x4 closet where he had woken up...yesterday? He knew at least a day had passed since he was knocked out in his confessional by a cold hand grasping his throat in a choking hold and slamming his head into the wooden screen, but he couldn't even venture to guess a more exact amount of how much time had actually passed. His stomach rumbled. Sighing, he hoped God was in a listening mood.
It was a bit ironic that Jimmy Lawrence, the son of a hunter, had been kidnapped by a ghost four years after he had run away the family business and sworn himself into priesthood.
Jimmy thumped his head against the wall he was sitting leaning up against, legs spread out away from his body. "Bet you're up there laughing at me right now, huh, Dad? Bet you're thinking that if I'd just lined the doors and windows with salt and put up the wards I wouldn't be in this position. Well, you know what? F—" He cut himself off right there.
No, he wouldn't break his vow by cussing. He groaned and banged his head back against the wall. How did all those prophets and everyone in the Bible manage to pray nonstop for days at a time? He'd only been in there for…two days?…and he was already bored and starving and on the verge of cussing his dead father out. Some priest he was.
Maybe that was the point the ghost was trying to make when it had shown up several hours before. It had said something about faith and the lady…and killing him. Well, Jimmy did believe in the Virgin Mary and he wouldn't give her up for anything, even if he had to die for her. He'd prefer not to die a martyr, but his faith in her was unwavering.
Oh, and by the way, what was up with the ghost looking like a younger replica of Dean Winchester? That was just weird. He wondered if shapeshifters had ghosts. Maybe it was that shifter from St. Louis Dean had killed way back when.
Suddenly, he heard something. He stood up, hoping it wasn't the ghost returning for his execution. But no, it was the sound of talking, then a tap on the metal door.
A man's voice. "Jimmy? Are you in there?"
Jimmy raised his eyes to the crumbling ceiling. There is a God.
DASNDASNDASNDASNDASNDASNDASNDASN
Earlier
Dean managed to divide the five people into the two groups he'd mentioned in his plan with surprisingly little argument. Sam and Alec were to get Father Lawrence. Dean, Max, and Logan would try to find the object Ben's ghost was attached to. They armed themselves from the arsenal in the trunk of the Impala and headed inside.
The building was filled with shadows from the various crates and containers stacked in uneven piles. Weak sunlight filtered in from dust-choked windows, but it was enough to see by. Spray-painted on the walls in uneven black letters were the words "Mission," "Discipline," and "Duty."
Dean muttered under his breath. "Like I always say, demons I get, but people are just plain crazy."
Creeping forward on silent feet, the two groups parted and Sam and Alec headed towards the metal door barely visible in the far corner of the room.
Alec said quietly, "I've been here before. This is where I was when the ghost first showed up and I swung at him with a pipe." He pointed to a mirror standing against the wall. "Right there."
"Okay, good to know." Sam glanced around, looking for any sign of the spirit. "By the way, I'm sorry for the way Dean acted just now. He was just…He doesn't like showing his real emotions. He's actually really worried about—"
"Yeah, I know," Alec interrupted. "We kinda overheard. It wasn't the first time we've ever gotten ordered around like that in our lives or anything." He shrugged. "Still, you shouldn't have to apologize for him when he acts like a jerk."
Sam looked at him and huffed out a laugh. "If I apologized for every time he was a dick, I would spend the whole day talking to people, trying to calm them down. But really, he cares."
They had reached the door by this time and Sam raised his shotgun ready to shoot. He rapped his knuckles on the door. "Jimmy? Are you in there?"
"Yes," came the answer, muffled by the door. "Let me out already. He said he was gonna kill me and I would rather not be ghost chow."
Alec had got his lock pick out and at Sam's nod, stuck it in the lock. In a matter of seconds, the metal door creaked open and a dusty figure emerged.
"Sam. Thank God. And—" he stopped, eyes wide. "Oh Lord." He crossed himself. "Shapeshifter?" He turned to Sam.
"Nope. Clone. My name's Alec. Ghost boy's name is Ben. He was my psycho twin brother," Alec answered in a matter-of-fact tone.
Jimmy stared. "Oh. Okay. Let's get out of here then."
Suddenly, Ben flickered into sight in front of them. Sam managed to fire off one shot right before the ghost threw out an arm and the three men flew into the wall with a thundering crack. The apparition disappeared as quickly as he had appeared.
"Oh, not again," groaned Alec, rubbing the back of his sore head. Glancing over at the other two, he saw that they were out cold and thanked Manticore for his genetically-engineered hard head. Hearing rapid footsteps nearing, he staggered to his feet. Dean soon appeared with the shotgun poised ready to shoot.
Alec waved his hand. "Whoa. It's just me. He knocked the others out." He groaned and leant over, putting his hands on his thighs to stretch his abused back. "Damn."
Dean threw Alec the gun and knelt down beside his brother. "Hey Sammy. No napping on the job," he said, tapping Sam's cheek. No response. He clenched his jaw. "That's it. That evil sonofabitch is goin' down."
Under different circumstances, Alec would have felt bad for Ben, because damn, Dean sounded downright scary just then. But after the whole trying to kill him twice thing Ben had pulled, he was starting to develop a small grudge against his dead twin.
Suddenly, the air turned icy cold. Alec and Dean turned to where the others were. Standing in front of Max was a familiar figure, pale in the weak light. Dean grabbed Sam's saltgun and hurried to catch up with Alec who was already headed for Max at superhuman speed.
DASPNDASPNDASPNDASPNDASPNDASPNDASPNDASPN
Max searched among the small bundle of things that obviously had belonged to Ben in life. Besides the impressive collection of weapons, there was an army blanket, several changes of clothing, and a small battered tin box. Hesitantly, she reached a suddenly clammy hand out towards it and opened the lid. Inside were three gold pendants, each on its own chain. The embossed pictures on the medallions were the same as on the one she had found in the woods the day she saw Ben. Underneath them was a card, about the size of a playing card.
Max picked it up. It was worn from frequent handling and had a rip in the top left corner. The once bright blue and gold ink had faded. But all the same, she recognized it. It was the card the janitor had given the seizing Jack that night all those years ago, the card with the figure of the Catholic Virgin Mary on it. The Blue Lady. Ben's Blue Lady. He had kept it all those years. Max's breath stopped in her throat.
A voice spoke softly behind her. "Is that it?"
She turned to Logan with tears in her eyes. "Yes. This is what's keeping him here. The Blue Lady."
Suddenly, the temperature of the building dropped down to freezing. Ben's spirit flickered into appearance. His gaze was directed at Max. "Don't touch her. She's mine. You didn't believe in her."
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Alec blurring towards her from across the room and Dean amazingly keeping up right behind him. Suddenly, they stopped midstep, each letting out a grunt, as if an invisible force was holding them back as they struggled. Their guns flew out of their grips and skittered on the floor, coming to a stop against a pile of crates.
Max turned frantic eyes to her brother. "Ben. This card is what's keeping you here. I killed you because you wanted me to, because you asked me to, and because I didn't want you to suffer. You have to let go. You have to let her go."
A sudden collective gasp made her turn and glance around to see Logan, Alec, and Dean being forced to their knees by the same invisible force. Their heads were slowly and deliberately turned to the side further and further to the point of pain. A little more, Max knew, and their necks would snap like those of Ben's other victims.
"Ben stop! Stop! Please. Why are you doing this?" she pleaded, tears in her brown eyes. Ben had never been able to resist those eyes when they were children.
He just looked at her, eyes serious. "You know why. Why don't you understand? It's all for her."
Max looked down at the card in her hand and dug in her pocket with her other hand. "I'm letting you go, Ben. Go to the Good Place, to the Lady," she said, her voice hitching. With that, she flicked the lighter on and set flame to the little piece of pasteboard.
The ghost flickered, surprise passing over his face. Then his features softened. "I'm sorry, Maxie," he whispered. "I tried so hard. I-I'm sorry." His gaze shifted and he gasped. "She's so beautiful…" With a swoosh and a bright light, Ben's spirit disappeared.
Released from the ghost's vice-like grip, Dean rubbed his neck with one hand and grated out, "Well, that was way too chick-flicky for me."
Alec, also turning his neck and massaging it, said, "Kinda hafta agree with you there."
DASNDASNDASNDASNDASNDASNDASNDASN
AN: Kinda anticlimactic? I know, more action would have been nice, right? Oh well, at least Ben got to go to the Good Place.
Another Dark Angel/Supernatural connection coming up next chapter, aside from the Ben-Alec-Dean thing. Can you guess what it is?
Whatever. Just leave me some nice, shiny reviews.
