A/N: I am SO sorry this took so long. I have a hard time describing action so this one took me a little longer. Again, thank you all for the reviews, alerts and favs. I would have given up on this if it hadn't been for you. I hope you enjoy!
Disclaimer: I don't own these characters or the universe. If I did, I wouldn't be here writing about them, I'd be living there, eating pie off of Dean's tummy. :)
As Dean said goodbye to Lizzie, he dug through his pocket and dialed his cell phone. Sammy answered on the first ring, "Yeah, Dean."
"Yahtzee!"
"You got something?" Sam asked in a rush.
"We have our spirit, Sammy. Where are you two?"
Sam sighed, "We were just parking at the first address on our list. We'll head back to the motel."
"Meet you there." Dean was flying high. They had finally caught a break in the case. As he was crossing the street toward the Impala, he briefly considered doing a "Dukes of Hazzard" across her hood but reconsidered. The rivets in his jeans could scuff her paint. He already had one scratch to fix.
Raven was turning into the motel parking lot when she felt the Impala rumbling behind her. Glancing in the rear view mirror, she still couldn't get over what a beautiful machine it was. Dean took really good care of the classic and she deserved all the attention he lavished. As Raven was pondering how hard it had to have been to rebuild from the ground up, her sensitive ears detected a slight flutter in the engine's idle. When she opened the car door, the sound was even more distinct.
Dean had shut off the motor and was climbing out when she said without thinking, "Your mixture is too rich."
"Excuse me," he replied with a perplexed look.
Realizing she was thinking out loud, she decided to just go with it, "Your carburetor… the fuel to air mixture is too rich. You don't hear the 'flutter' when she is idling?"
Sam had gotten out of the rental car and was staring at her with his jaw hanging open. Dean recovered from his amazement quickly, "Yeah, I heard it. I'll tune the carb when we are done with the case. What I want to know is how you heard that?"
She shrugged, started walking toward the room and said over her shoulder, "I have ears. Are you going to fill us in on the spirit or not?" A smirk played across her lips when she saw in the reflection of the motel room window, the boys just standing there, stunned.
"Lizzie drew me a map of the graveyard, pointing right to where Walter Cavanaugh is buried. I scoped the place out on my way back. His plot is toward the back which is a lucky break; the cemetery is on Broadway so there's not a whole lot of privacy." Dean was pacing back and forth, excited that they were about to wrap this one up. Sam had mixed emotions. Of course he didn't want anyone else to die but, if Dean pitched a fit, he might have to say goodbye to Raven. And the thought of that nearly ripped him in half.
Raven looked over at him; her eyes were quiet and sad. Almost like she could sense what he was thinking.
"Are you one hundred percent positive that Cavanaugh is our man?" Raven asked.
Dean didn't look thrilled at being questioned, "No, I'm not but call it a hunch. And at this stage of the game, we don't have much else to go on." She didn't look satisfied with his answer but didn't press the point.
"Dean we have one slight problem. We can't go digging up that grave in broad daylight. We are going to have to wait until the middle of the night. What if he attacks someone else while we are waiting?" Just like Dean, his gut was telling him that something was going to go down tonight.
Dean grinned at his brother in triumph, "Way ahead of you, Sammy. I called Bobby on my way back here and he is working on it. He was thinking that some sort of revelation spell might do the trick."
Sam glanced at Raven and found her attention wasn't in the room. She was scribbling furiously on a legal pad only slowing to move to the next line. He was mesmerized. Her concentration was so intense Sam wondered if she even knew they were there. Looking away from Raven, Sam saw Dean wander to the fridge and get a beer. When he looked back, she was done and had her cell phone in her hand.
"Hey Bobby," she said with a smile in her voice, "I think I am on to something that will reveal the tank but I wanted to run it by you first." She then proceeded to read multiple sentences in Latin. Sam understood enough to gather it was a revelation ritual and that it was phrased perfectly. "Excellent, thanks Bobby. Don't worry, I am always careful." She read through the words once again and then spoke quietly, "Boys, I think we are in business."
It was decided that they would stake out the tank until it was time to go to the cemetery. That way, if Walter got frisky, they could make the tank appear and salt it before it hurt anyone. The waiting was tedious. Somehow knowing she needed some space, Sam was next to Dean she sat in the back seat alone. She had only been with the Winchesters for a few days but it felt like months. So much had already happened and it was only going to get worse. The task she was meant to do was going to be difficult enough without emotions complicating matters.
Not that anyone could tell right now, but Raven was usually an emotionally reserved person. She had cried more in the last few days than she had in years. Being a pediatric surgeon, she had learned to grow a skin over her feelings. Otherwise, she would be unable to be objective and that was required to make the kinds of decisions required to treat the patients. But that didn't mean she wasn't human. She took the work home, when she went home, more often than not. Strangely enough, being a hunter was less stressful. Killing the monster, saving the civilian, all of it generally tied itself up into a neat package. When there was someone killed on her watch, she made damn sure the evil creature in question paid the price. Hunting was a much more rewarding way of saving lives.
She stared out the frosty window; her breath causing condensation on the window. A smile played at the corners of the mouth. How loud would Dean scream if traced a flower in the moisture there?
Dean finally broke the silence, "Raven, can I ask you something?"
"Yes, Dean, you may ask me a question," she heard Sam snort but Dean didn't catch her attempt to correct his grammar.
"Where did you get that revelation spell?" He looked at her through the rear view mirror.
"I memorized it from an episode of Charmed," she replied in a perfect dead pan delivery. His answering look was enough to make Sam giggle. "I wrote it."
Sam stopped giggling instantly, "You wrote that? That's an excellent skill to have." He sounded impressed. Raven caught Dean's glance in the mirror, recognizing the astonishment in his eyes. Maybe, just maybe, she was starting to earn his respect.
Dean dozed while waiting for the time to pass. It's not like the sound of the tank starting up wouldn't wake him. It was kinda hard to miss. As the moment came closer, he found it harder to sleep, so he let his brain off its leash and let it wander around for a bit. He admitted to himself that he was sincerely astounded by the fact that Raven had written that spell. He'd never heard of a hunter actually crafting something like that. She's gonna be handy to have around, he thought. That was when he realized that his mind was already made up. He was going to let Raven stay with them. Dean hadn't made the conscious decision but it was done. The idea caused his stomach to tighten but she did fit in, like a missing puzzle piece.
His revelry was interrupted by the alarm on Sam's cell phone. Sam stretched and shook Raven awake, "Hey, it's time to work."
She went from dead asleep to alert faster than anyone he had ever seen. It reminded him that she was a doctor, something he continually forgot. She had a life before this, a damn good one from what he had gathered. She had a career, family, maybe even a man in her life. The idea of that made him cringe. Again, slamming the lid on that particular box, he handed Sammy the thermos of coffee and started going over the plan with them again.
Dean had dropped them off a block or so from the cemetery, not wanting the sound of the Impala's engine to tip anyone off. He and Raven silently made their way to the back where Walter Cavanaugh was buried. Their part of the job was easy enough; dig up the man's grave, salt his bones and set them ablaze. Sam loved it when cases were this straight forward.
The second they reached the plot, Raven took her shovel off her shoulder and started to work. Unfortunately, the ground was hard from the recent freeze but it began to yield to the sharp tip of the spade. They worked without speaking; only grunting with exertion. So far, so good.
Dean was just pulling back into the lot near the tank when he heard an ominous sound. He threw the car into park, jumped out and opened the trunk. The ground beneath his feet shook from the rumble of the giant engine. Uh oh, he thought, Walter was pissed. Dean patted his jacket pocket, making sure the spell was still there. He loaded his double barrel sawed off and dashed toward the shrieking sound of the tank.
"Sammy, you and Raven need to hurry."
She had struck something hard with the blade of the shovel just as Sam's cell rang. "Dean?"
"Sammy! The tank is on the rampage! Whatever you are going to do, do it quick!" He screamed in the phone. Raven could hear the tank through the speaker.
Struggling to get the lid off the coffin, she knew there was no time to lose, "Help me!"
Sam dropped the phone and jumped down. He and Raven pulled at the lid in unison, until the locks gave way. She climbed out to get the salt and lighter fluid and was struck in the back by an unseen force, driving her to the ground.
"Raven!" Sam called to her, "Are you alright?"
Dean was running full speed up Broadway in pursuit of the tank. It was moving fast, in the direction of Burger World. Thinking it might have been a good idea to take the Impala, the sound turned suddenly down a side street and slowed.
Dean caught up to it, pulled out the spell and began reading, "Ostendo sum vestri iratus phasmatis ostendo vestri verus vultus turpis vos es haud diutius."
Less than 30 feet in front of him, the tank appeared. It was still in the middle of the road, idling menacingly. Dean fired the shot gun at the rear. The salt round struck metal and skittered off. Uh oh, he though. Trying another strategy, he reached for this pistol and fired an iron round at the monster. Again, it struck metal and bounced off. Double uh oh. The turret swiveled in Dean's direction and stopped. Dean had a half second to dive out of the way of the shell that exploded in the wall next to his head.
Sam hopped out of the grave to help Raven but she was already on her feet, mumbling the spell that he'd heard her say over the phone to Bobby. He grabbed the salt and covered Cavanaugh's bones in it. His head snapped up as he heard Raven's shotgun put a round in the spirit. Grabbing the lighter fluid, she was dousing the body when she bent over and moaned.
Sam went to her but she shoved him away, "Hurry, it's Dean. Something's happened. Finish this!" Her eyes focused over his shoulder, "Down!" He dropped and she fired, again hitting the angry spirit.
Dean was dodging shells, just keeping ahead of the turret. Without warning, the tank began creeping down the street and turned into a parking lot. Dean followed carefully, watching out for his skin as well as everyone else's.
Across from the parking lot was Bedford Hospital. The only person around was a security guard who was making rounds. He dared not call attention to himself by running ahead of the machine but he had to warn the civilian. The vehicle gained speed when it spotted its intended target. Dean faded to the tank's right in an effort to get to the cover of the trees there and maybe get ahead of it without being seen. His plan was working until it gained even more speed, charging the guard who was checking the doors closest to its position. There was no other choice.
Dean fired again at the murdering mass of metal and yelled, "I'm over here you bastard!" The tank slowed but more importantly, the guard heard Dean and the noise, running for cover. It stopped, the turret turned and Dean dove out of the way. Walter was furious and was going to take it out on Dean. He managed to get clear but the shells kept coming. An explosion struck a tall tree right behind him and before he could roll out of the way, his torso was pinned under a heavy branch. The resulting crunching of his ribs was unsettling but he had bigger problems; he couldn't move. It adjusted its position, sensing victory as Dean lay on the ground, staring down the barrel of a tank.
Taking no chances, Sam doused the bones with the entire can of lighter fluid. He lit a book of matches and was going to drop them when the spirit of an intensely angry Walter Cavanaugh appeared directly in front of him, wrapping his hand around Sam's neck. He struggled for air and the edges of his vision started going black. He knew he couldn't keep conscious much longer. Then Sam heard the most beautiful sound, the whoosh of a fire being lit. Walter dissolved into screaming ashes and Sam was free.
Raven was standing next to the grave, looking ashen. "Sam, Dean is injured. We have to get to him."
Just as Dean was sure he was a goner, the tank vanished and the night was silent again. The weight of the branch not only broke what he was sure was several ribs but was making breathing very difficult. He tried pushing up on the branch but it wouldn't budge. Dean struggled to get enough air. His vision was going dark and just as he lost consciousness, he heard his cell phone ring.
A/N: So you guys are probably pissed I left it there, huh? Well, you will find out soon enough if Dean lives or not. Muah ha ha ha ha!