Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural, just borrowing for fun. A/N: Thanks so much for the reviews! Positive feedback is always appreciated!
I lay on my back, propping myself up on my elbows. The Demon stood over me, grinning maliciously. I swallowed hard, my heart rate increasing. He stared at me and laughed, obviously sensing my fear.
"You disappoint me, Ally."
"It's Alyx." I said automatically, through gritted teeth.
"I thought you'd be smarter than this. I didn't think you'd fall so quickly, not with you being so strong. See how easy this power works? You like having that kind of authority, don't you? To be able to determine someone's fate with your mind alone."
"No. No. I'm not like you."
"Uh-huh. Well, let me show you how much I love being able to use my ability. Unlike you, I don't ignore it. I embrace it."
Fearful, I got on my knees; almost stood up but a searing, white-hot pain shot through my abdomen. I doubled over, wincing, clutching my stomach. I pulled my hands away, and saw blood covering them. I stared up at the Demon, feeling a mix of emotions, but above all, shock. He now held my fate in his hands. I didn't like that thought. Not at all.
"Hurts, doesn't it?" The Demon taunted. I glared at him, trying to gather up some strength to deepen the wound I had given him earlier, but I couldn't.
"Dad…" I called weakly, as another wave of pain gripped me; I gritted my teeth, one hand clawing at the cold, damp earth under my knees.
"Alyx!" Dad yelled, sheer panic and concern evident in his voice. From the corner of my eye, I saw him try to get up and come toward me, but the Demon pushed him back. "Alyx! Damn it, leave her alone!"
"Daddy won't be here to save you now, princess," The Demon teased. "And guess what? Hate to break it to you, but you won't be able to heal this one so easily." Yet another intense pain hit me, and I cried out, tears stinging in the corners of my eyes. There was no use fighting them back now; instead, I let them stream down my face. There was blood covering the midsection of my shirt, and I was beginning to taste it in my mouth, which I knew wasn't a good sign. A sudden blow of energy knocked me on my side, and I lay there, unable to move any longer. I didn't want to give up, but the pain was so bad that I couldn't do anything.
I watched as the Demon turned away from me, taking out the Colt. He pointed it at my dad—who was still pinned to the gravestone—and got ready to shoot. What, was he planning to take us both out?
The Demon never got the chance to fire the Colt, because someone tackled him to the ground, making the gun fly out of his hand. That someone, I saw, was Grandpa John. Well, his spirit, at least. He'd been trapped in Hell—from what I had been told by Sam; Dad never really discussed it—because of a deal he had made with the Demon. Grandpa John had traded his life for my dad's, so he could live. That happened before I was born; the last time they had gone up against the Demon.
The Demon's host body fell to the ground, emitting black smoke from his mouth, and forming into a silhouette of a man. Grandpa John wrestled with it for a few moments. He ended up getting flung back a couple feet when the Demon shook him off. The smoke returned to the host body quickly, but by that time, Dad had possession of the Colt. The Demon got to his feet, and looked right at Dad; he was rather shocked to see him sitting there with the Colt trained on him.
There was a tense moment that passed, and then the final, fatal shot rang through the night air. It made contact with the Demon's chest, piercing his heart with a deadly blow. I watched, with satisfaction, as he convulsed, jolts of what looked like electricity coursing through his body. He dropped onto the ground, lifeless, the yellow glow of hatred in his eyes burning out immediately afterward. Sam was released from his hold, and slid to the ground on his knees. In all of the excitement of what had just occurred, I forgot momentarily that I was badly injured.
Although my vision was getting somewhat hazy, I saw someone walk right through the circle of fire that still surrounded me. I felt strong, slightly unfamiliar hands lift me gently from the ground, and soon I was in someone's arms. I looked up to see Grandpa John's face. I offered a smile, wincing a little from the sharp sting of the wound. Grandpa John stepped through the flames as if it was nothing. I knew it didn't effect him because he was only a spirit.
I heard the crash of the doors of the crypt; Ellen and Bobby could now close the Devil's Gate. I listened to their hurried footsteps coming in my direction. Soon, Dad, Sam, Ellen and Bobby were crowding around us. Dad took me from Grandpa John's arms and knelt on the ground, holding me carefully in his lap. Sam knelt down beside him, as he examined the wound. Ellen, Bobby, and Grandpa John looked on gravely; the expressions on their faces didn't make me feel any better.
General POV
"Sammy…" Alyx called frailly, searching for some kind of comfort. Sam reached out and took his niece's hand in his, trying to ignore how cold it felt. She looked extremely pale, and she was loosing a lot of blood. The sight hit home for the younger Winchester; he had seen Dean in the same condition years earlier. If they didn't get to a hospital soon…
Sam pushed that thought aside quickly. He didn't even want to think about that. He simply couldn't.
"It's okay, Ally," Sam said. "It'll be okay. I promise."
Only he wasn't so sure. Deep down, Sam knew the severity of the situation. He wanted to whole-heartedly believe in the promise he'd made to her, but he couldn't.
"Dad…" Alyx whispered, her breathing becoming labored and uneven, "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have—"
"You didn't do anything wrong. Just hold on, all right?" Dean replied, his voice trembling a bit. "How far from the nearest hospital?" He directed the question at Bobby. The old hunter sighed solemnly.
"Fifteen, twenty miles at least." He answered. Dean cursed under his breath. He didn't know if she'd be able to make it that far. She was strong, for sure, but the injury was getting the better of her. Why wasn't she healing? Dean wondered. He looked down at Alyx, who seemed so helpless and small in his arms, wishing to just trade places with her; relieve the pain—do something. Anything.
"Stay with me, Alyx. C'mon, sweetheart." Dean demanded softly, glancing at his father, John, who was now holding the pentagram amulet out to him. Would it help heal her? He placed the pendant around her neck, careful not to move her too much. They waited a tense minute or two, and found that the amulet wasn't working. Frustrated and scared, Dean cursed again, looking up at the dark sky, as if seeking answers.
Don't you dare take her away from me, damn it.
He wasn't about to let that demon take another casualty down with him. Dean was ready to get to his feet with Alyx in his arms when Oliver came running toward the group, upon seeing his fallen girlfriend. Ellen and Bobby parted to let him through, and he dropped to his knees by her side.
"Alyx." he said, grabbing her other hand and stroking the side of her damp face lovingly.
"Oliver—you're okay?" Alyx asked quietly.
"I'm fine…just confused." He laughed, trying to lighten the depressing mode. He hated to see her like this. What had happened? How long had he blacked out?
"She isn't healing. We have to get to a hospital." Dean said sternly.
"You don't need a hospital." Oliver replied. Dean and Sam looked at him like he was insane.
What was this kid taking about? How could he possibly help her?
Dean and Sam just hoped that he was right. And whatever he was going to do, it better work. Fast.