Seeing a demon on television is one thing. Preparing for a demon attack is another. However, standing close enough to a demon to feel the heat of its breath on my forehead is a different thing entirely. I was frozen numb in terror, unable to look away from the black eyes. I knew I needed to do something. Squirt it with the holy water in the gun; recite the exorcism; hell, even just run away from the monster. I couldn't do any of those things. My feet were rooted to the spot in surprise and disbelief. Why I couldn't believe what was in front of my eyes, I have no idea. I suppose it was just more terrifying than I could have ever put into words.
Thankfully, I wasn't alone. By the time my mind had rebooted itself and I started to move again, Sam had already sprung into action. He had taken the water gun from my hand and was shooting its contents at the demon. It was hissing and I could see the water burning its skin each time it made contact.
"Go! Go! Get back up stairs!" He yelled. I stumbled over my feet as he was pushing me toward the staircase.
"Get her!" Dean directed someone behind him. He continued racing down the stairs the colt in his hand.
"Don't shoot him! He's my neighbor. He's a good man!" I shouted at Dean. He nodded, but I think he only cared about the demon, not its meat suit. Dean pushed me up the stairs toward John. The soldier grabbed my arm, leading me firmly back toward my bedroom. We hadn't thought to protect the whole house I realized. The only safe room was my bedroom. Everything else was-
My thoughts were interrupted by the sound of glass shattering. I turned my head, nearly at the top of the stairs, to see what had happened. I instantly wished I hadn't. The windows all the windows within a nine foot radius of the front door had been shattered. The demon wearing Mr. Eddie was walking through the closest one, laughing at the sight of the two hunters. Both of them were bleeding from cuts by the glass. Sam was still standing. He had managed to raise his arms in time to shield his face from the shards. Dean hadn't been so lucky. He had been facing the windows when they exploded, and his face now had a smattering of cuts, all of which were bleeding.
They were both still fighting, but Dean was losing a lot of blood. I don't know how much longer he could fight before he passed out.
"You're an army doctor, John," I insisted. "Go help them. I'm fine."
"Sorry Lucy. You're the priority right now. As soon as you're safe, I'll help in the fight. Now come on." He tugged at my arm, urging me forward.
Suddenly, I felt a strong force push against my stomach that could only be from the demon, propelling through the staircase railings and onto the wall next to the landing and knocking the breath out of me. I struggled for a moment to fill my lungs with air again, before taking in the scene around me. Sam was pinned against a wall as well, and Dean was pale behind the bleeding cuts covering his face. John had been knocked aside by the momentum I had when the demon pushed me against the wall. However, the demon didn't seem to be paying attention to John as the solider quietly maneuvered around the debris of the hand railing. He was making his way toward me. Probably to help get me down, but I knew it wouldn't work. I tried to shake my head. However, John wasn't deterred in the slightest. In fact, he seemed ever more determined to reach me.
This of course attracted the attention of the demon, who then threw John against another wall. Just great. I hoped the Doctor and Sherlock had better ideas. I was suddenly aware of their absence. Where were they? Both of them were men of action. They should have been out in the fray the moment something seemed wrong. I glanced around for them, spotting Sherlock frantically going rifling through the notebooks in my bedroom. Looking for… looking for what? I turned my attention back to the demon. Maybe I could exorcise it while Dean and Sam were distracting it?
"Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus" I murmured. Barely moving my lips. Damn, if only I had the recording on me, but it was sitting in my room being entirely unhelpful. "omnis satanic potestas…"
My mouth felt like it had been suddenly been stuffed with cotton balls and duct taped shut as I went to say the next line.
"Oh that was cute." The demon said. He was striding up the stairs. Having control over the four of us, he was beginning to get cocky. "You tried to exorcise me. Too bad you lost your voice, sweetheart." His voice dripped like maple syrup. I glared at the bastard. How dare he patronize me.
"I've been waiting to see you for years now." Oh good, time for the demonic monologue. I always enjoyed those. "I was just trying to have some fun. I heard there had been a murder in the town, and I wanted to play into the hysteria. Have people in the town claiming to be possessed, maybe kill a few other people. It would have been fun, but nooo you had to stop me. Well too bad for you, but I'm patient. You pushed me into that…" he stopped a moment trying to find a word. "mysterious hole, and I've been traveling, murdering one person each place I stopped. Then I would jump back into the hole, and make my way to you." He was walking with his hands behind his back, obviously glowing in his success at catching me. I still had no idea what I had done to the demon, but I didn't bother voicing that knowledge. It wouldn't have mattered to the demon much anyway.
"You know, it got easier over time. I could focus on a year when I jumped into the hole. It didn't usually work, but I started getting closer and closer to this date. Oh, I was so ecstatic when that girl –what was her name?- Ally Johnson, told me the year, the month, and the day. I was only a few days away from our very first encounter. I figured that after years of traveling to find you, I could wait a few days more to kill you." I needed a way out of this. Sherlock and the Doctor, surely they were planning something. What was taking them so long. Could Sherlock really not find the right notebook? Then it struck me. Sherlock didn't know exactly what he was looking for.
How could I tell the detective where the exorcism was written? I couldn't see him from this angle … but John. John could see him! I locked eyes with the solider, trying to remember Morse code. I always knew it would come in handy. I flicked my eyes away from John, praying that he knew what I was thinking. I refocused on the demon, trying to act naturally. One long blink. Three short blinks. A quick glance told me that John was focused on my eyes understanding exactly what I was doing. Soon enough I had spelt out "black notebook" all while looking like I was hanging onto every word the demon said (it was talking how dull it was, waiting for the right day to kill me). In my peripheral vision I saw John nod his head slightly showing that he understood the message. I wasn't sure if he knew who I wanted the information to go to, though, so I blinked three times quick (S) followed by four short blinks (H).
I didn't look at John again, and refocused on the demon standing in front of me. Apparently, he wasn't the most observant being on the planet, because he said nothing about the exchange. I listened back in as he was saying, "Did you like my message for you? I suppose it might have gotten a bit scrambled," recognition must have dawned in my eyes, because the demon looked pleased. "Oh so you did figure it out! Lovely. You must have been so confused." He laughed in a way that reminded me of the hyenas in Lion King, pretending to wipe a tear out of his eye. "You aren't confused now are you?"
I kept my face neutral, best not to give any more information to the demon. "Well, I'm sure you know what's going to happen to you now, dear." The demon's maple syrup tone had turned dark. I glanced down at Dean, willing him to get move, to help. He stayed down, completely passed out. He must have gotten hit by one of the pieces from the railing. Blood was still running out of the cuts and onto the wooden floor. Sam was still stuck in the demon's grip, thrashing furiously to get out, but it wasn't doing any good. Oh my babies, what could I do to help? This was all my fault.
I felt the tugging sensation in my stomach again, as the demon moved me closer. We were face to face now. The demon's eyes were alight with ecstasy. "And now…" The demon said joyfully. "It's time for you to die." He reached out his hand and pointed it directly at my heart. He squeezed his hand, as if grabbing the organ. There was a second when I thought the demon's powers weren't working. Relief began to flood my system, only to be turned into the most terrible pain. It felt like my heart was collapsing onto itself, growing smaller and smaller. I screamed silently, my voice still stolen by the demon. There was nothing I could do. I was going to die.
Suddenly, the pain didn't matter anymore. It was only my body that was reacting. My mind had retreated. I thought of how I had failed. These characters, my heroes, were all stuck in the universe, because of some demon with a vendetta against me. Still, this had been the best day of my life. I had gone inside the TARDIS. I had lunch with five fictional characters, instead of by myself. I got to see Sherlock and John together. Sam… Sam had kissed me. I suppose it was by some beautifully ironic source that determined the only way I could balance all this happiness was with my death. I wasn't sure if I was still screaming or not, but it hardly mattered. I closed my eyes waiting for a reaper to come get me.
The reaper never came. I felt the pressure on my chest release all at once. It felt like taking the first breath after getting the wind knocked out of you. I slid down to the floor, and I heard Sam and John slid hit the floor as well.
"Exorcizamus te, omnis, ummundus, spiritus," I heard someone chanting loudly. Was it Sherlock? "Omnis santanica potestas, omnis incursio infernalis adversarii,"
I felt a spray of water on my face, looking up I saw the Doctor shooting the demon with holy water from my extra water gun. It kept the demon from interfering as Sherlock continued the exorcism. "Omnis congregatio et secta diabolica. Ergo, draco maledicte. Ecclesiam tuam securi tibi facias libertate servire, te rigamus, audi nos!" Sherlock shouted.
The demon buckled, black smoke pouring out of my neighbor's mouth. The house seemed to eerily quiet as the demon was sent back to hell. For a moment no one moved. We were all too stunned by the events of the afternoon. I broke the silence, unintentionally by coughing. My heart felt like it was beating harder and slower than normal, and my throat was as dry as a desert. I struggled to sit, finding the Doctor at my side.
"Easy there. Take it slow." He placed a hand on my back, helping me to sit up straight. I leaned against the wall, taking deep breaths. One after another.
"How are you feeling?" John said, bending over to look at my eyes.
"I'm fine," I croaked, wincing at the sound my voice made. It was similar to how Sherlock sounded after he had been strangled in Soo Lin's flat. "Dean…"
"Sam is looking at Dean right now. I'll be there to patch him up as soon as I make sure you're functioning well." John answered evenly. I felt his hand grip my wrist, taking my pulse. After a moment he let go. "You seem to be doing fine." I coughed again.
"Sherlock, follow me downstairs." John directed. "She needs a glass of water, and I need to tend to Dean."
Sherlock nodded jerkily, glancing down at my face with a worried look. Well, I could tell he was worried, anyone else would just think he was unimpressed by the whole ordeal.
"Nice job, Sherlock." I exclaimed meekly. My throat was really sore.
"You weren't half bad either." He smirked. I smiled back, glowing in the compliment.
"Sherlock are you coming?" John called. He was already most of the way down the stairs. Sherlock rolled his eyes, following the army doctor to where Sam and Dean were.
"Can you shout down to them that there's a first aid kit in the bathroom on that floor?" I asked the Doctor, coughing once more.
"Of course," he responded. "John, there's a first aid kit in the bathroom. It looks like you'll be needing it."
"Thank you!" John called back.
I settled against the wall, closing my eyes. A nap sounded like a fantastic idea right now.
"No." The Doctor said shaking my shoulder. "You shouldn't be sleeping."
I groaned, shifting my position. The hard wood floor was incredibly uncomfortable.
"How did you find the water gun?" I asked the Doctor hoarsely.
"Sherlock was looking for the notebook. He kept muttering that one of them had the exorcism in it, but he couldn't tell which one. You, my dear, have a lot of notebooks in your room."
"I'm a writer. What would you expect?" I joked, coughing again. The Doctor laughed.
"I was helping him look for that before John tipped us on where it was. Then I realized we would need something to keep us the demon in place while Sherlock read the exorcism. I knew you had the water gun in your closet before, so I was hoping you might have a second. Of course, you did. You're very smart you know. You didn't even know the attack was coming, but you were prepared beyond a shadow of a doubt."
"I guess you could call it a product of obsession." I replied, grinning.
"Lucy!" I turned my head to face the new voice coming up the stairs. Sam ran up the last few steps of the staircase and over to me. The Doctor moved aside, smiling, to let Sam get closer. "Oh god, are you alright?"
He squatted down next to me, running his fingers lightly over my face and neck, looking for any injuries. As far as I knew there were none. Sam didn't seem to find any either. Taking my face in his hands, he smoothed a stray piece of hair behind my ear.
"I'm fine Sam. Just a little tired." I took in his face. There was a bandage just above his right eyebrow probably where a glass shard had cut him. There were a few cuts that were already scabbing over on his arms. All in all, he looked more beat up that I did.
"Here, the floor can't be that comfortable." He leaned over, wrapping one arm around my shoulders and the other under my knees. The hunter picked me up effortlessly. I wanted to protest, to yell and explain once again that I wasn't some damsel in distress. I was so tired though. It hurt to breathe, and it still felt like someone was still squeezing my heart, waiting for it to burst. So instead of protesting, I just turned in Sam's arms and buried my face in his shirt. He carried me into my bedroom and set me gently on the bed.
"Thanks," I said, peeking up at the hunter.
"It's not a problem." Sam replied with a warm smile, but it was laced with sadness. Where the hell did that come from? Oh. Ohhh. Right. I had forgotten about Sam's past attempts at romance. How idiotic of me. The fandom even joked about his "penis of death." It hadn't been too long ago that Jess was killed by the yellow eyed demon, and I know that he isn't over her death years after it happened. Now there's me. A new little flicker of hope for him, and I nearly got snuffed out. He was blaming himself, I knew it. That's what the Winchesters did: they killed monsters and felt responsible for the safety of everyone near them. It's an impossible weight to bear.
"Water and tea," Sherlock interrupted, walking into the bedroom careful to not disturb the salt line. "The water is because John said so. However, Mrs. Hudson says that tea with honey can fix anything, which is preposterous. I won't even begin to explain all the flaws in her logic." Sherlock set the cup and the mug onto the bedside table. "John instructed that you take the water first."
I rolled my eyes and took the tea mug. Raising it to my mouth, I took a small sip. It was heavenly. I had always been one to love tea, but I never learned to make it properly. Sherlock, having grown up in the center of the tea universe, made an excellent cuppa. The warm liquid was soothing as it went down my throat. He had probably put honey in it. I cradled the cup, protectively, as I thanked Sherlock.
"You should have tea John makes. He's even better at it than I am." Sherlock smirked. It was wonderful to hear him talk about John. His whole face lit up, and he seemed… well, he seemed like a man in love.
"He was definitely the one going through the void. The demon didn't switch bodies," The Doctor informed us, coming into the room. He held the 3D glasses up as an explanation. "There were void particles all over the man."
"How is he doing?" I asked anxiously. Possessed or not, my neighbor was like a second father to me. I didn't want him to die.
"He's fine. He'll come around soon enough."
"Where is he?" I inquired, making a move to get up. Sam pushed me back into a sitting position gently but firmly.
"I put him in the guest room across the hall." The Doctor replied. I nodded my approval and took another sip of tea. Sam had taken a folding chair from the closet in the hall and set it up next to my bed. Currently, he was running his thumb absently over the top of my hand, thinking about something. The Doctor was sitting backward on the chair at my desk. Sherlock was pacing again. They all seemed lost in thought. What could they possibly be thinking about?
Dean strode into the room, followed by a fairly relaxed John. Apparently, he hadn't been concussed or injured too much. Otherwise, John would have been more worried. Dean looked around the room a bit sheepishly, no doubt feeling embarrassed for having gotten himself knocked out. I cringed. It wasn't even his fault that he was hit by a piece of debris. The demon got to us before we were fully ready for it.
"The demon?" He asked us.
"Exorcised and back in hell," Sam responded to his brother.
"And the bird?"
"Lucy's fine, but you really shouldn't call her that." Sam said a little taken aback.
"No," Dean screwed up his face in disgust. "The stymaphalian bird," he corrected. I racked my thoughts. The bird, it hadn't been in the fight. Where was it? Suddenly I didn't feel so tired anymore, and the tea sat uneasily in my stomach.
