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randomplaces2006-12-01 12:51 pm
random_xtras) wrote in randomplaces2006-12-01 12:51 pm
girlSam's reality. Outside Cassie Winchester's apartment. Catching up.
((written with ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
omgtehrandom ))
Dean had stepped out of the cafe, with thoughts of his Earth but...
"Guess the ruby slippers didn't work this time." he mutters, rolling his eyes. He starts to walk around, shoving his hands in his pocket to stave off the cold chill of the night. He walks a ways before hearing the sounds of a scuffle.
Dean looks down an alleyway, the hair on the back of his neck standing on end. Cautiously, he starts making his way down it...
The roar of a shotgun shatters the night, followed by an unearthly howl and a couple screeches.
John staggers back, wincing as he slams into the wall from the force of the thing's blow even as he reaches into his pocket for more shells. Finding nothing, he reverses the gun and uses the silver inlaid butt to hit a hag in the face. The movement sends fire along his ribs, but he grits his teeth and dodges a swing from the big predator.
Dean heard the shotgun, and runs to where it's at, his 9mm already in his hand. He sees John fighting the thing.
"Dad, get down!" he yells, raising the gun.
John drops instinctively, eyes widening slightly as the hag manages to rip the shotgun out of his grip. He kicks at it, yanking out the Bowie, then looks up to see the other hag reaching for his son. "Dean Watch out!"
The 9mm goes off, straight at the hag, once his father's dropped. He turns, when his father yells, but only in enough time to get grabbed by the throat.
John slashes at the Hunter, opening the thing from collar to groin, then ducks under its swing and shouts out loud in another language. Reversing the knife in his hand and sends it twirling end over end to embed itself between the eyes of the hag that was trying to suck the breath out of Dean. It screeched and disintegrated.
There was a movement at the corner of his eye and he whirled, but not before the Scavenger had fastened itself to his leg, claws digging deeply. "Arrgghh!"
Dean dropped, gasping and shaking.
I really hate those things... then. "Dad!" he calls out, grabbing for the gun the hag had knocked away.
"It's empty...." John grimaces and kicks at the thing with his other foot as it snarls and digs its claws deeper.
Dammit, he was right. "What do I do?" he asks, desperately. "I can't fight what I can't see."
"The knife." John feels his heart start to race as the scavenger's toxins hit his blood stream and kicks harder. "Pray, and look...."
Dean scrambles for the knife, and...after a moment starts praying, at least as well as he knew how.
I don't know if you're listening, but we need help. Please...show me what I need to see. Help me save my dad...please.
He stops, looking back and catching a fleeting glimpse of...something. It was good enough for him, and he dives at it, knife flashing.
John squeezes his eyes and shudders as the thing howls and digs its claws deeper reflexively, then fumbles with shaking hands for the Epi-pen in his pocket, feeling his chest closing off and his heart racing.
Dean slashes at it again, trying to force it off of his Dad. Why wouldn't it die?!?
It hisses at him, bubbling greenish black blood, then slumps.
John grimaces, finally finding the pen and jerking the cap off with his teeth and jabbing the needle into his thigh as his breathing becomes a tortured rasp and his heart tries to charge out of his chest.
Once it's dead, Dean gets close to his father. "Dad? You okay?" he asks worriedly.
"Talk to me?"
John curls on his side, shaking and struggling for breath, fading out of consciousness.
Something growls in the shadows.
“Dad!” he calls out worriedly, as he picks the older Winchester up, throwing his arm around his shoulder. “Come on, you gotta stay with me.” He says, starting to make his way out of the alley with his dad. “Don’t you quit on me, old man.”
"Can't...." John gulps and fights for air. "God.... please. ...Stay with them. Have to...." He squeezes his eyes shut.
The last predator growls low and steps out in front of them, and Dean sees the thing clearly.
He hears how much John is struggling, and it sends a cold chill through him. “Don’t you dare.” He whispers harshly. -Don’t you dare leave me again. Don’t you do that. You said you’d be there when I needed you…- He begged him. -Don’t leave me alone again, Dad…please.-
Dean stops, and backs up a step or two when it steps out of the shadows in front of them. “You are one ugly son of a -“ he gets cut off by it roaring at him.
-Staying. I'm staying, I'm staying, I'm staying,- John insists desperately, then cries out in pain as the roar makes his straining heart jump. -God, help us!- He gropes blindly for the bowie, but his hand falls on the Gun instead and he pulls it out with a shaking hand and tries to aim it at the Hunter before it disappears from his sight. It's no good, the tremors are too bad and his vision's starting to grey out.
-You’d better dammit.- he tells him, before noting that his dad’s not going to be able to fire the gun. With his free hand, he reaches over, taking the gun as the thing charges. Right before it gets to them he fires it point blank at its chest, but the charge takes it the rest of the way into them, whether or not it's dead. The only thing Dean manages to make sure of, is to turn slightly and hold onto his dad, taking the brunt of the impact of the Hunter as not to hurt his dad anymore.
John grunts as they hit, his mind spiraling down into blackness.
There's a moment's silence as the echoes through the alleys, then a voice exclaims and hands tug at Dean's arm. "Uncle Dean? Are you alright? What happened? Woah.... What's this?"
Dean sees stars explode in front of his eyes, and hears sound fade out to an annoying high pitch buzzing. It takes a few minutes for him to recognize the voice, or even acknowledge the hands tugging at his arm. He blinks, looking around a moment before Rob slowly starts coming into focus. "Rob?" he whispers, though it sounds much louder to his own ears.
He tries to move, but the Hunter is still pinning both him and his dad. "I...I think I'm okay." Then. "Dad!" he exclaims, starting to try and shift from out from under the thing. "It's not something you want the pleasure of being able to see." he tells Rob, still trying to move from under it. If he is hurt, either he hasn't noticed, or he's just ignoring it. He's more worried about his unconscious dad.
"It's a demon?" Rob hesitates slightly, then finds the thing's arm and lifts it away from them with a grunt and a heave of TK that nearly lands him on his rear. Then he stares at the man he's uncovered. "Woah...."
John's breathing is harsh and shallow, his pulse a rapid flutter as his body falls into shock. He's fighting with everything he has, but without help it's not going to be enough.
“Yeah, that would be about right.” He says to him, trying to help with the thing until Rob ends up getting it off. He rolls onto his side with a grimace but ignores it. He didn’t hear the kid’s reaction to seeing his dad, so he doesn’t say anything about it. He stands with some effort, and pulls John up with him. “Come on, help me get him indoors.” He tells Rob, throwing one of John’s arms over his shoulders.
-Hang in there. You hold on, old man.- he whispers through to his unconscious dad. -We didn’t get this far just to have you go and die on me and Sammy.- he tells him.
"Wait up." Rob frowns and puts a hand on John's chest. "God, hey. I have my hand on him. Please?"
John gasps, the colour returning to his face, and nearly slips from Dean's grasp as he becomes a total deadweight.
"Woah!" Rob grabs him and pulls his other arm over his shoulders. "Okay, where are we going?"
Dean stops long enough to let Rob…oh woah. -Thank you, God.- he says silently, readjusting his dad’s arm so he doesn’t fall. Once Rob’s got ahold of him too, he looks around. “Anywhere I can get him lying down out of the cold, and get my hands on a first aid kit," he tells the kid.
His adrenaline is starting to wear off, and his side feels like it’s on fire.
There's a sudden ringing from John's pocket. Rob flinches and looks at Dean, who's closer to where the sound is coming from.
Dean’s brow furrows, but he fishes out the phone, and answers it, not bothering to check the caller id. “Who is this?”
There's a startled silence broken only by the sound of a young baby talking to itself, then a woman's voice says. "Dean???"
Dean's brows knit together in confusion. He blinked, something seemingly wanting to come up to the surface of his mind, but it wouldn't come. "Who are you, and how do you know who I am?" he asks gruffly, not liking answering someone else's phone and talking to someone that obviously seemed to know him, but whome he didn't seem to know.
"What...?" A little ire comes into the voice. "Dean, it's Cassie. Your wife?"
And if only she could see his face right then. Woah. Cassie. The woman that Sammy had told him about, the one he’d asked her about. Her smile. That was the only thing that he remembers, and it wasn’t much. Then… a baby too? Sammy had said she was pregnant…
“Cassie?” he says, confused. “I…I uh…” Maybe he shouldn’t mention not remembering on the phone.
"Never mind," she says softly, her voice going a little flat. "Where's John? Is he alright? I heard a fight."
Ouch. That didn’t sound good. He winces a bit on his side of the phone. “I’ve got him right here. He’s not okay. I’m trying to get him somewhere where I can take care of him.” He tells her, looking over at Rob. He winces again, though this time it’s not from her tone of voice, it’s his side again.
Dean shifts John a little bit so he can get a decent look at his side, sees it, and his jaw sets. He mutters something under his breath. “Cassie, are you anywhere close?” he asks, and he’s sure she can hear him talking through his teeth.
"Grandpa's bleeding too." Rob points to the dark stain on John's pantleg.
A door opens a little further down the alley and a beautiful woman with coffee and cream skin and black ringlets peers out, one hand protectively over the baby carrier she wore on her front. "Right here. Hurry, I just heard the call go out for the cops."
omgtehrandom ))Dean had stepped out of the cafe, with thoughts of his Earth but...
"Guess the ruby slippers didn't work this time." he mutters, rolling his eyes. He starts to walk around, shoving his hands in his pocket to stave off the cold chill of the night. He walks a ways before hearing the sounds of a scuffle.
Dean looks down an alleyway, the hair on the back of his neck standing on end. Cautiously, he starts making his way down it...
The roar of a shotgun shatters the night, followed by an unearthly howl and a couple screeches.
John staggers back, wincing as he slams into the wall from the force of the thing's blow even as he reaches into his pocket for more shells. Finding nothing, he reverses the gun and uses the silver inlaid butt to hit a hag in the face. The movement sends fire along his ribs, but he grits his teeth and dodges a swing from the big predator.
Dean heard the shotgun, and runs to where it's at, his 9mm already in his hand. He sees John fighting the thing.
"Dad, get down!" he yells, raising the gun.
John drops instinctively, eyes widening slightly as the hag manages to rip the shotgun out of his grip. He kicks at it, yanking out the Bowie, then looks up to see the other hag reaching for his son. "Dean Watch out!"
The 9mm goes off, straight at the hag, once his father's dropped. He turns, when his father yells, but only in enough time to get grabbed by the throat.
John slashes at the Hunter, opening the thing from collar to groin, then ducks under its swing and shouts out loud in another language. Reversing the knife in his hand and sends it twirling end over end to embed itself between the eyes of the hag that was trying to suck the breath out of Dean. It screeched and disintegrated.
There was a movement at the corner of his eye and he whirled, but not before the Scavenger had fastened itself to his leg, claws digging deeply. "Arrgghh!"
Dean dropped, gasping and shaking.
I really hate those things... then. "Dad!" he calls out, grabbing for the gun the hag had knocked away.
"It's empty...." John grimaces and kicks at the thing with his other foot as it snarls and digs its claws deeper.
Dammit, he was right. "What do I do?" he asks, desperately. "I can't fight what I can't see."
"The knife." John feels his heart start to race as the scavenger's toxins hit his blood stream and kicks harder. "Pray, and look...."
Dean scrambles for the knife, and...after a moment starts praying, at least as well as he knew how.
I don't know if you're listening, but we need help. Please...show me what I need to see. Help me save my dad...please.
He stops, looking back and catching a fleeting glimpse of...something. It was good enough for him, and he dives at it, knife flashing.
John squeezes his eyes and shudders as the thing howls and digs its claws deeper reflexively, then fumbles with shaking hands for the Epi-pen in his pocket, feeling his chest closing off and his heart racing.
Dean slashes at it again, trying to force it off of his Dad. Why wouldn't it die?!?
It hisses at him, bubbling greenish black blood, then slumps.
John grimaces, finally finding the pen and jerking the cap off with his teeth and jabbing the needle into his thigh as his breathing becomes a tortured rasp and his heart tries to charge out of his chest.
Once it's dead, Dean gets close to his father. "Dad? You okay?" he asks worriedly.
"Talk to me?"
John curls on his side, shaking and struggling for breath, fading out of consciousness.
Something growls in the shadows.
“Dad!” he calls out worriedly, as he picks the older Winchester up, throwing his arm around his shoulder. “Come on, you gotta stay with me.” He says, starting to make his way out of the alley with his dad. “Don’t you quit on me, old man.”
"Can't...." John gulps and fights for air. "God.... please. ...Stay with them. Have to...." He squeezes his eyes shut.
The last predator growls low and steps out in front of them, and Dean sees the thing clearly.
He hears how much John is struggling, and it sends a cold chill through him. “Don’t you dare.” He whispers harshly. -Don’t you dare leave me again. Don’t you do that. You said you’d be there when I needed you…- He begged him. -Don’t leave me alone again, Dad…please.-
Dean stops, and backs up a step or two when it steps out of the shadows in front of them. “You are one ugly son of a -“ he gets cut off by it roaring at him.
-Staying. I'm staying, I'm staying, I'm staying,- John insists desperately, then cries out in pain as the roar makes his straining heart jump. -God, help us!- He gropes blindly for the bowie, but his hand falls on the Gun instead and he pulls it out with a shaking hand and tries to aim it at the Hunter before it disappears from his sight. It's no good, the tremors are too bad and his vision's starting to grey out.
-You’d better dammit.- he tells him, before noting that his dad’s not going to be able to fire the gun. With his free hand, he reaches over, taking the gun as the thing charges. Right before it gets to them he fires it point blank at its chest, but the charge takes it the rest of the way into them, whether or not it's dead. The only thing Dean manages to make sure of, is to turn slightly and hold onto his dad, taking the brunt of the impact of the Hunter as not to hurt his dad anymore.
John grunts as they hit, his mind spiraling down into blackness.
There's a moment's silence as the echoes through the alleys, then a voice exclaims and hands tug at Dean's arm. "Uncle Dean? Are you alright? What happened? Woah.... What's this?"
Dean sees stars explode in front of his eyes, and hears sound fade out to an annoying high pitch buzzing. It takes a few minutes for him to recognize the voice, or even acknowledge the hands tugging at his arm. He blinks, looking around a moment before Rob slowly starts coming into focus. "Rob?" he whispers, though it sounds much louder to his own ears.
He tries to move, but the Hunter is still pinning both him and his dad. "I...I think I'm okay." Then. "Dad!" he exclaims, starting to try and shift from out from under the thing. "It's not something you want the pleasure of being able to see." he tells Rob, still trying to move from under it. If he is hurt, either he hasn't noticed, or he's just ignoring it. He's more worried about his unconscious dad.
"It's a demon?" Rob hesitates slightly, then finds the thing's arm and lifts it away from them with a grunt and a heave of TK that nearly lands him on his rear. Then he stares at the man he's uncovered. "Woah...."
John's breathing is harsh and shallow, his pulse a rapid flutter as his body falls into shock. He's fighting with everything he has, but without help it's not going to be enough.
“Yeah, that would be about right.” He says to him, trying to help with the thing until Rob ends up getting it off. He rolls onto his side with a grimace but ignores it. He didn’t hear the kid’s reaction to seeing his dad, so he doesn’t say anything about it. He stands with some effort, and pulls John up with him. “Come on, help me get him indoors.” He tells Rob, throwing one of John’s arms over his shoulders.
-Hang in there. You hold on, old man.- he whispers through to his unconscious dad. -We didn’t get this far just to have you go and die on me and Sammy.- he tells him.
"Wait up." Rob frowns and puts a hand on John's chest. "God, hey. I have my hand on him. Please?"
John gasps, the colour returning to his face, and nearly slips from Dean's grasp as he becomes a total deadweight.
"Woah!" Rob grabs him and pulls his other arm over his shoulders. "Okay, where are we going?"
Dean stops long enough to let Rob…oh woah. -Thank you, God.- he says silently, readjusting his dad’s arm so he doesn’t fall. Once Rob’s got ahold of him too, he looks around. “Anywhere I can get him lying down out of the cold, and get my hands on a first aid kit," he tells the kid.
His adrenaline is starting to wear off, and his side feels like it’s on fire.
There's a sudden ringing from John's pocket. Rob flinches and looks at Dean, who's closer to where the sound is coming from.
Dean’s brow furrows, but he fishes out the phone, and answers it, not bothering to check the caller id. “Who is this?”
There's a startled silence broken only by the sound of a young baby talking to itself, then a woman's voice says. "Dean???"
Dean's brows knit together in confusion. He blinked, something seemingly wanting to come up to the surface of his mind, but it wouldn't come. "Who are you, and how do you know who I am?" he asks gruffly, not liking answering someone else's phone and talking to someone that obviously seemed to know him, but whome he didn't seem to know.
"What...?" A little ire comes into the voice. "Dean, it's Cassie. Your wife?"
And if only she could see his face right then. Woah. Cassie. The woman that Sammy had told him about, the one he’d asked her about. Her smile. That was the only thing that he remembers, and it wasn’t much. Then… a baby too? Sammy had said she was pregnant…
“Cassie?” he says, confused. “I…I uh…” Maybe he shouldn’t mention not remembering on the phone.
"Never mind," she says softly, her voice going a little flat. "Where's John? Is he alright? I heard a fight."
Ouch. That didn’t sound good. He winces a bit on his side of the phone. “I’ve got him right here. He’s not okay. I’m trying to get him somewhere where I can take care of him.” He tells her, looking over at Rob. He winces again, though this time it’s not from her tone of voice, it’s his side again.
Dean shifts John a little bit so he can get a decent look at his side, sees it, and his jaw sets. He mutters something under his breath. “Cassie, are you anywhere close?” he asks, and he’s sure she can hear him talking through his teeth.
"Grandpa's bleeding too." Rob points to the dark stain on John's pantleg.
A door opens a little further down the alley and a beautiful woman with coffee and cream skin and black ringlets peers out, one hand protectively over the baby carrier she wore on her front. "Right here. Hurry, I just heard the call go out for the cops."
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Rob's eyes spark with hope, but then widen in concern as he looks at Dean.
"Baby?" says Cassie softly, putting a hand to Dean's cheek to gently turn his face toward her.
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He wasn't going to let them see that. Not if he could help it.
"Laying down sounds like a good plan."