Chapter Six: Bad to the Bone
Author's Note: First, I want to apologize for the wait for this chapter! I am so, SO sorry! I've been trying to get some home maintenance done before the cold weather sets in, and it's been taking all my time and energy. And also, to be honest, I've had a touch of writer's block. Thank you all so much for your patience, your reviews, favorites and follows, and for not siccing any psychotic clowns on me to get even with me for the delay. ;) I think this is probably the second-to-last chapter. So, let's see. Where were we again?
BEGIN SPOILERS! LOOK OUT! WARNING! DON'T READ THIS IF YOU'RE AVOIDING SPOILERS!
So, as of episode 9-3 this story is officially AU, I guess. You know, I really want Ezekiel to be a good guy, but after this last episode, I really don't know anymore. From a writer's point of view I can see where this development came from. It gives them more latitude to play with Cas experiencing humanity from ground zero, so to speak, it turns the screws on Dean and his tendency towards guilt and self-torment some more, and they can write episodes without Cas without having to explain where he is. That doesn't mean I like it! I'm just tired of the same old plot twists, where Dean is backed into corners, forced to make impossible decisions, and then suffers for them, first by tormenting himself and then by being found out and treated like a villain. Anyway, I'm not happy at this point but I guess there's no good that can come of sitting here bitching about it. I just wanted to acknowledge this story's AUness. Sigh.
END SPOILERS! YOU'RE SAFE NOW!
Disclaimer: This continuing beautiful weather we're experiencing is not the result of a blood sacrifice. At least, not the blood of anyone who's going to be missed . . . .
**SPN**SPN**SPN**
Chapter Six: Bad to the Bone
The ghost, clinging to the rails of the Bone Shaker roller coaster between the stranded cars and the fire department rescue personnel, flickered like static on an old television and looked back and forth between the firefighters and the stranded passengers. It was a woman, Dean saw, with big eighties-style hair, an oversized sweatshirt hanging off one shoulder, leotards and leg warmers. The skin of her face was sunken and decayed, rotted teeth showing through a rip in one cheek. She reached one skeletal arm towards the nearest firefighter.
". . . didn't save meeeee . . . ."
Dean leaned forward from his perch atop the stranded train and swung his belt in a wide arc. The wrought iron belt buckle passed through the spirit and it flickered and vanished. The fireman turned wide, shocked eyes up to Dean.
"What the hell was that?"
Dean didn't bother to answer the question. There was no time for that discussion right now. "We've got to get off this ride," he said instead. "Hand me one of those safety harnesses and get your rope set up."
**SPN**SPN**SPN**
The road to hell is paved with good intentions, Cas thought.
Presented with two options, a twirling rope ladder and a set of steps, he had chosen the simpler route and started up the stairs. When his foot hit the third step, the stairs folded up beneath him, turning into a slide that took him down two levels instead of up one.
His current choice, though, seemed more straight forward. A door labeled "emergency exit", tucked into the corner of the haunted maze on the fifth floor, had taken him to a short, utilitarian corridor that offered two options. He could go up a ladder that led to a trap door in the ceiling or he could descend a long flight of stairs that led back down into the bowels of the building.
Cas hesitated, knowing he should take the ladder (always raise yourself whenever possible) but curious about what lay in the depths. He was so caught up in the allegory of the Fun House that he'd almost forgotten he was there for a reason, until he heard the familiar, deep tones of Sam Winchester's voice overhead.
Climbing quickly, he emerged on the roof, under a storm-swept sky. He tipped his head back and spread his arms wide, savoring the wind's caress and the feel of the first, fat raindrops spattering on his face.
"And thus one emerges unto heaven!" he proclaimed.
Sam blew past him, face intent, dragging a ragged clown in his wake.
"Cas! Come on! One of the skeletons in the park is a real skeleton. We've got to find which one it is and burn the bones before the ghost gets Dean!"
Reluctantly, he followed them back through the trap door and down the ladder.
Sam shook the clown. "Where's the nearest skeleton?"
"Hell, I don't know! They're everywhere. There's at least a dozen just in the Fun House."
"Then we'd better start looking!"
"Wait," Cas said, grabbing at the clown's arm. "I have to know." He pointed down. "Where do the stairs lead?"
"The fire exit," the clown said, just before he was yanked off his feet and dragged after Sam.
Cas stood for a moment longer, eyes open wide in wonder. "Of course," he breathed, enlightened. "The fire exit! Brilliant!"
**SPN**SPN**SPN**
Dean leaned back and addressed the elderly lady behind him.
"A'right, sweetheart, I'm gonna put these safety harnesses on you and your husband and we're going to secure them to the ropes that Roy and Johnny, back here, have got set up."
The firefighters snickered at the nicknames.
"I'm Johnny," one claimed.
"Yeah," the other one said. "He falls down a lot and he can't get a second date."
"Shut up!"
The ghost reappeared, right next to Dean, eliciting a chorus of screams from the other passengers. He dispelled her again with a sweep of his belt buckle, almost not even bothering to look at her.
One of the firefighters climbed up next to Dean and between the two of them they made short work of getting the elderly couple harnessed and secured.
"I've got a key to release the lap bar," the firefighter offered as Dean stretched forward.
"Don't need it." The bar fell open and the couple gasped as they slid around on the ropes.
"Whoa! Did you just pick the lock?"
"What can I say?" Dean grinned. "I was a hell of a Boy Scout." He slid as far to the side as he could and let the firemen do their job. His job was to stand guard and dispel the ghost while they evacuated the other passengers.
It was starting to rain now, the water making the bars slick and hard to hold onto. One of the firemen tossed him a climbing belt and he quickly donned it and fastened the safety line around the bar that ran along the seat back he was perched on.
The ghost reappeared behind him and again he swung the belt buckle through her. Her shriek of frustration as she dissipated mingled with the ring tone of his cell.
The caller I.D. showed Sam and Dean answered it reluctantly.
"I'm sitting on top of a big metal roller coaster in the middle of an electrical storm and you call me on the telephone? Are you trying to get me struck by lightning, Sam?"
"It's only landlines that are dangerous in a thunderstorm," Sam said. "Lightning can strike the wires and travel for miles along the phone lines. Cell phones are safe. Well, you know, unless you actually get struck by lightning, in which case all metal in your possession including cell phone components will be instantly superheated, possibly even to the point of vaporization, and cause first-degree burns anywhere they touch you, maybe even setting your clothing or even your body on fire."
"Thank you, Pollyanna!"
"Sorry."
"Listen, Sam, I've seen the ghost. It's Bronwyn Mitchell, one of the Sky Train crash victims. I recognize her from her picture. This coaster wasn't here then, but the sky train rails would have passed real close to here, so I guess . . . ."
"Are you sure it's her? Because Bobo says that one of the skeletons in the park is a real skeleton. They dug it up while they were putting in the foundation for the new coaster and the owner didn't want to wait for the officials to investigate it so instead of reporting it, he hid it in the park. Now, that wouldn't have been Bronwyn's skeleton, but it fits the time line for the deaths. Also, there's no reason to think that the ghost that's killing people ever actually appeared to its victims while they were in the park."
There was a bright flash of light and an almost simultaneous crash of thunder as lightning struck a lightning rod no more than a hundred yards west of their position. Bronwyn appeared directly in front of Dean, bloody tears running from empty eye sockets.
"I keep falling," she moaned.
"I know, darlin'," he told her regretfully, spinning the buckle around to dispel her again. He put his phone back to his ear and Sam was screaming his name, panicked. "Dude, calm down! I'm right here!"
"My god, Dean! I thought you'd been struck by lightning!"
"It hit a lightning rod. And Bronwyn came back, right with the lightning. You know what we've got going on here, Sam?"
"It's the storm," Sam realized. "Paranormal activity always picks up during electrical storms. The electricity in the air powers up the ghosts. Any latent spirits in the area are going to be charged up and active. And this park, with its history - we're going to be swimming in ghosts, you know that?"
"Yeah, tell me about it. Where are you?"
"Still in the Fun House. We've already found eleven skeletons, all plastic, just on the two top floors."
"Okay, well, assuming we don't get struck by lightning, we should be down from here pretty soon. Wait for me there and I'll come find you. Did Cas make it to you?"
"Yeah, he's here."
"Good. Don't let him eat anything else. Keep your heads up and I'll see you soon."
"And you keep your head down. We'll be waiting."
**SPN**SPN**SPN**
Bobo Z. Bobolink was beginning to wish he'd jumped off the Fun House when he had the chance. Giant Sam had a clown phobia? Well, he was beginning to develop a Giant Sam phobia. And a Giant Sam's Weird Little Friend phobia.
The new guy - his name was Cas - was kindly, gently lecturing Bobo on the Importance of Faith and the Precious Gift from God that was Life. It was all pretty standard motivational fare until he started in on the Miracle of the Human Digestive System.
". . . and you can even tell things about your general health based on the color and consistency of your feces."
Bobo tugged on Giant Sam's arm. "Can I go back and jump off the roof now?"
"After we lay the ghost. Where's the next skeleton?"
"There's one on the second floor, in the screwy gravity room."
"Let's go. With luck, maybe Dean will be waiting for us by the time we get down to the entrance."
Bobo turned to Cas. "Is Dean as big and scary as Sam is?"
Cas tilted his head and looked at Bobo inquisitively. "Actually, Sam is usually considered the more polite, easy-going and reasonable of the brothers."
Bobo whimpered. "I want my mommy."
SPN**SPN**SPB**
As a child, Dean had watched every episode of Emergency! at least ten times. He'd seen Ladder 49, Backdraft, Towering Inferno, Hellfighters, Frequency, Hook and Ladder, and every other firefighting movie he could find. Though he never would have admitted it to Sam, he often thought that, in some other life in another dimension where he wasn't a hunter, he might have been a fireman himself.
When the last chubby, middle-aged guy had been painstakingly lowered from the stalled cars to the top of the ladder, he swung his belt buckle through the Bronwyn Mitchell's ghost one last time and edged between the two search and rescue men who were waiting for him.
"I can climb down on my own," he said, clipping his climbing belt to the line they had established when they first arrived. "Don't dawdle."
Before they could object, he swung out and rappelled expertly down to the ladder. The firefighter standing duty there met him with big, wondering eyes.
"Was that really . . . ? Did we just see . . . ?"
"A ghost? Yup, you did indeed. Don't worry. I don't think that one means any harm."
The firefighters who'd been up top were waiting on him, dangling at the ends of their own ropes, and Dean hooked his feet around the ladder rails and slid down swiftly.
It was raining hard now, droplets pounding into the pavement with such force that they bounced as they struck. Another streak of lightning grounded somewhere nearby and the thunder was deafening. There was a park representative waiting for Dean, a prissy, self-important looking man in a suit and a yellow plastic rain poncho. Dean mentally labeled him "Crossing Guard Penguin Guy". He grabbed Dean's arm and tried to steer him into the nearest building.
"We are so very sorry about the inconvenience," Crossing Guard Penguin Guy said, sounding not sorry at all. "While you realize, of course, that by purchasing a ticket and using the park's facilities, you implicitly indemnify the park for any - urk!"
Dean got him by the lapels and lifted him off his feet, just to get his attention. "What's the shortest route to the Fun House?" Between the storm and the unusual exit from the roller coaster, he was a little turned around.
"Sir, you can't! We're under a storm warning and I'm afraid all guests are required to seek shelter at the nearest - ulp!"
"Fun House?"
"I really must insist that -"
Dean spied a familiar face among the crowd standing in the doorway of the nearest boarding shed, watching the fire department. He dropped Crossing Guard Penguin Guy, snapped his fingers and pointed.
"Chad! Fun House! Shortcut! Now!"
Chad turned pale and pointed.
Dean left.
**SPN**SPN**SPN**
When Cas had claimed that Giant Sam's older brother was even scarier than Giant Sam was, Bobo hadn't really believed him. He had tried to imagine it anyway. He thought maybe this Dean character was a mindless, ruthless thug. Sort of a "punch now and try to think of questions later" kind of a guy. Maybe he was a big, muscular bruiser with a crooked nose and cauliflower ears. Maybe he was the kind of man who poisoned goldfish and kicked puppies.
They reached the entrance to the Fun House just as a lithe, muscular man had burst in out of the downpour, swearing furiously. Giant Sam pounced on him immediately.
"God, Dean! Are you all right?"
"No," Dean snapped irritably. "I got struck by lightning and I'm a human french fry right now. Why do you always ask me stupid questions?"
"Well, you don't have to be an ass about it!"
"Well, you don't have to be such a big girl!"
"Jerk!"
"Bitch!"
Cas tapped Bobo on the shoulder. "Do not be put off by their apparent bickering. This is how they show their deep and undying affection for one another."
"Thank you, Sally Jessie Raphael!"
"Dean, I do not understand that reference."
Not deigning to explain, Dean turned his attention to Bobo. "Sam? This clown been giving you trouble?"
Bobo shuddered and tried to hide behind Cas. This was not a man who kicked puppies. This was a man who kicked saber-tooth tigers.
Sam noticed his discomfort and smirked. "No, Dean. He's been very helpful, actually."
"Yeah? Well, good. Let's keep it that way." He wrung water from the dangling edge of his flannel over shirt onto the hall floor. "You finished searching in here?"
"Yup. Nothing."
"Of course there's nothing. That would be too easy." He sighed, ran one hand over his short-cropped hair and turned once more for the entryway and the stormy day beyond. "Are you ladies coming? We've got a lot of ground to cover and that ghost isn't gonna gank itself."
A/N 2: While I'm not making any promises, I will try very hard to get the next chapter up within the next week or so. So sorry, once again, about the long wait for this chapter!