Flack finished throwing their belongings in the bags and looked over at Sam, who was watching him warily. “You are serious about this demon thing, aren’t you?”
Sam nodded. “I wish I wasn’t.”
Flack sighed and glanced down at his watch, as he read the time, he frowned. “How long does it take to patch up a radiator?”
Sam looked down at his watch and also frowned. “To be honest, I’m not exactly sure, but Dean would know his way around an engine if he was blindfolded. And if it was going to take long, he would call.” Sam stuck his hand into his pocket at the same time as Flack, and they both pulled out their cell phones. From the table, Taylor’s cell started ringing, before the battery died.
“Damn,” he cursed. He looked over at Sam. “Anything?”
Sam frowned back, “No. And that’s not like Dean. He’s only not answered his phone once before, and that was when…”
Flack didn’t hear the answer because Sam was already out of the door. Pausing only long enough to grab the bags and Taylor’s phone, he ran out of the door after Sam.
The hood of the GTO was still up, and despite the fact the engine looked like it had been repaired, there was no one in sight. Sam bent over and picked something up, “Something is wrong.” He held up Dean’s phone.
Flack looked around. “You weren’t joking about the sacrifice thing, were you?” Sam shook his head. Flack pulled his phone back out and started dialling.
“Who are you calling?”
“The police,” Flack told him.
“And what are you going to tell them?”
“That Taylor’s been kidnapped.”
Sam stared at him. “You’re a cop. How would you react if someone rang up saying their girlfriend had been kidnapped?”
“I’d ask them what evidence they had…” he trailed off. He stared at Sam, and hung up, before dialling in a different number.
“Now who are you calling?”
“A friend. He’s a CSI.”
Sam sighed impatiently. “Look, even if you did convince your friends down here from New York, it will take them hours. And then what are you going to do? Get them to battle a demon with us.”
“Taylor.”
Flack stared at Sam, and sighed. Mac didn’t believe in ghosts, never mind demons. “Never mind, Mac,” he said, before hanging up without further explanation. “Well, what do you suggest?”
“We’ve got to stop the demon.”
“What about Taylor?”
“She’s with Dean – he’ll look after her.”
Flack looked like he wanted to say screw this and begin hammering on the doors, but if there was a sacrifice, there was no way anyone was going to give him Taylor back. “Alright, what do you want me to do?” Sam smiled and led him to the trunk of the Impala. “Holy crap!” Flack exclaimed as he peered inside.
Sam nodded. “I wish I wasn’t.”
Flack sighed and glanced down at his watch, as he read the time, he frowned. “How long does it take to patch up a radiator?”
Sam looked down at his watch and also frowned. “To be honest, I’m not exactly sure, but Dean would know his way around an engine if he was blindfolded. And if it was going to take long, he would call.” Sam stuck his hand into his pocket at the same time as Flack, and they both pulled out their cell phones. From the table, Taylor’s cell started ringing, before the battery died.
“Damn,” he cursed. He looked over at Sam. “Anything?”
Sam frowned back, “No. And that’s not like Dean. He’s only not answered his phone once before, and that was when…”
Flack didn’t hear the answer because Sam was already out of the door. Pausing only long enough to grab the bags and Taylor’s phone, he ran out of the door after Sam.
The hood of the GTO was still up, and despite the fact the engine looked like it had been repaired, there was no one in sight. Sam bent over and picked something up, “Something is wrong.” He held up Dean’s phone.
Flack looked around. “You weren’t joking about the sacrifice thing, were you?” Sam shook his head. Flack pulled his phone back out and started dialling.
“Who are you calling?”
“The police,” Flack told him.
“And what are you going to tell them?”
“That Taylor’s been kidnapped.”
Sam stared at him. “You’re a cop. How would you react if someone rang up saying their girlfriend had been kidnapped?”
“I’d ask them what evidence they had…” he trailed off. He stared at Sam, and hung up, before dialling in a different number.
“Now who are you calling?”
“A friend. He’s a CSI.”
Sam sighed impatiently. “Look, even if you did convince your friends down here from New York, it will take them hours. And then what are you going to do? Get them to battle a demon with us.”
“Taylor.”
Flack stared at Sam, and sighed. Mac didn’t believe in ghosts, never mind demons. “Never mind, Mac,” he said, before hanging up without further explanation. “Well, what do you suggest?”
“We’ve got to stop the demon.”
“What about Taylor?”
“She’s with Dean – he’ll look after her.”
Flack looked like he wanted to say screw this and begin hammering on the doors, but if there was a sacrifice, there was no way anyone was going to give him Taylor back. “Alright, what do you want me to do?” Sam smiled and led him to the trunk of the Impala. “Holy crap!” Flack exclaimed as he peered inside.
* * *
When Taylor awoke, she had a pounding headache and couldn’t for the life of her remember where she was. Banging behind her drew her attention to Dean. As she watched him trying to break a door down at the top of an old wooden staircase, she remembered everything up until being knocked out. She sat up with a groan which alerted Dean to her wakeful state. “Where are we?”
“In a cellar,” he said, stating the obvious.
Taylor struggled to her feet, squinting in the dim light. “No? Really?” she asked, sarcasm lacing her voice.
Dean shot her a withering look. “I don’t know, alright. I was unconscious when they brought us here. Just like you.”
“I don’t suppose you have a cell phone on you?”
Dean looked at her like it was the most stupid question someone could ask. He looked at the door, kicked it, and sighed, before sitting down heavily on the steps. “What made him change his mind?”
“Huh?”
“Flack, you said he didn’t believe in ghosts.”
Taylor shrugged. “He died.”
“You’re dating a ghost?!”
Taylor rolled her eyes. “Puh-lease. He came back to see me, as a ghost, but I told The Powers That Be that they were to put his spirit back in his body, and they did.”
“The Powers That Be?”
Taylor arched an eyebrow. “You mean, you know about ghosts, but you don’t know anything about The Powers That Be?”
“You see ghosts but don’t believe in demons?” he shot back at her.
Taylor held her hands up. “Look, I’m not after an argument, I was just asking.” She sighed. “And it’s not that I don’t believe in demons, I just didn’t think they existed.”
“Isn’t that the same thing?”
Taylor exhaled slowly. “How are we going to get out of here?” she asked, changing the subject.
“I don’t know, but when we do, we’re going to have to destroy this demon.”
“So, how do we kill this demon?” Taylor asked.
“In a cellar,” he said, stating the obvious.
Taylor struggled to her feet, squinting in the dim light. “No? Really?” she asked, sarcasm lacing her voice.
Dean shot her a withering look. “I don’t know, alright. I was unconscious when they brought us here. Just like you.”
“I don’t suppose you have a cell phone on you?”
Dean looked at her like it was the most stupid question someone could ask. He looked at the door, kicked it, and sighed, before sitting down heavily on the steps. “What made him change his mind?”
“Huh?”
“Flack, you said he didn’t believe in ghosts.”
Taylor shrugged. “He died.”
“You’re dating a ghost?!”
Taylor rolled her eyes. “Puh-lease. He came back to see me, as a ghost, but I told The Powers That Be that they were to put his spirit back in his body, and they did.”
“The Powers That Be?”
Taylor arched an eyebrow. “You mean, you know about ghosts, but you don’t know anything about The Powers That Be?”
“You see ghosts but don’t believe in demons?” he shot back at her.
Taylor held her hands up. “Look, I’m not after an argument, I was just asking.” She sighed. “And it’s not that I don’t believe in demons, I just didn’t think they existed.”
“Isn’t that the same thing?”
Taylor exhaled slowly. “How are we going to get out of here?” she asked, changing the subject.
“I don’t know, but when we do, we’re going to have to destroy this demon.”
“So, how do we kill this demon?” Taylor asked.
* * *
“There are two ways,” Sam told Flack. He walked leant into the backseat and pulled out a very old, leather bound book, flicking through the pages until he came to rest on one entitled Fire Daemons. “The first is decapitation with a silver sword.”
Flack looked at the helpful black and white drawing underneath the title. The demon looked like a man made out of flames, although, if the actual cowering man beside it was anything to go by, the demon was about eight feet tall. He swallowed. “And what’s the other way?”
“We drown it.”
“GOD DAMNIT!” he yelled. “We have no chance.”
Flack looked at the helpful black and white drawing underneath the title. The demon looked like a man made out of flames, although, if the actual cowering man beside it was anything to go by, the demon was about eight feet tall. He swallowed. “And what’s the other way?”
“We drown it.”
“GOD DAMNIT!” he yelled. “We have no chance.”
* * *
Taylor stared in disbelief at Dean. “And where exactly do we get a sword made of silver from?”
Dean shrugged. “There’s one in the trunk of my car, actually.”
Taylor’s look of disbelief turned to one of scepticism. “You just happen to carry a silver sword around with you?”
Dean nodded. “It can kill other forms of demons and werewolves too.”
“Don’t tell me, Buffy is on speed dial one?” Taylor asked, dryly.
“Sam is one, dad is two, and Buffy is three.” Taylor’s eyes practically fell out of her head. Dean laughed at her. “Don’t be stupid, Buffy isn’t real.”
Taylor rolled her eyes, trying to cover the fact she was embarrassed for falling for that one. “What are our chances?” she asked Dean, after a while.
Dean looked at her. “Depends.”
“Depends on what?”
“If I tell you not good, are you likely to sleep with me?”
Taylor slapped at his leg as he smirked at her, “Not even if I was to die tonight,” she told him.
“Right,” Dean muttered. “Figures,” he sighed. “Sam will get us out of here.”
“You sound certain,” which actually reassured her – he really did.
Dean shrugged. “I’ve been in this situation before.”
The reassurance disappeared. However, before Taylor could mention something, the door behind was unlocked. Wordlessly, the two of them stood, ready to rush whoever was at the door. But the barrels of several shotguns pointing in their faces stopped them. Taylor stared behind the guns to their owners. The leader was Joe, the mechanic, and then there were several other men and women.
“I don’t suppose you’re the rescue party?” Dean asked cheerfully.
The answer was to be knocked unconscious. Taylor made to grab him before he could fall backwards down the steps. As she bowed under his dead weight, the butt of the gun made its way towards her head.
Dean shrugged. “There’s one in the trunk of my car, actually.”
Taylor’s look of disbelief turned to one of scepticism. “You just happen to carry a silver sword around with you?”
Dean nodded. “It can kill other forms of demons and werewolves too.”
“Don’t tell me, Buffy is on speed dial one?” Taylor asked, dryly.
“Sam is one, dad is two, and Buffy is three.” Taylor’s eyes practically fell out of her head. Dean laughed at her. “Don’t be stupid, Buffy isn’t real.”
Taylor rolled her eyes, trying to cover the fact she was embarrassed for falling for that one. “What are our chances?” she asked Dean, after a while.
Dean looked at her. “Depends.”
“Depends on what?”
“If I tell you not good, are you likely to sleep with me?”
Taylor slapped at his leg as he smirked at her, “Not even if I was to die tonight,” she told him.
“Right,” Dean muttered. “Figures,” he sighed. “Sam will get us out of here.”
“You sound certain,” which actually reassured her – he really did.
Dean shrugged. “I’ve been in this situation before.”
The reassurance disappeared. However, before Taylor could mention something, the door behind was unlocked. Wordlessly, the two of them stood, ready to rush whoever was at the door. But the barrels of several shotguns pointing in their faces stopped them. Taylor stared behind the guns to their owners. The leader was Joe, the mechanic, and then there were several other men and women.
“I don’t suppose you’re the rescue party?” Dean asked cheerfully.
The answer was to be knocked unconscious. Taylor made to grab him before he could fall backwards down the steps. As she bowed under his dead weight, the butt of the gun made its way towards her head.
* * *
Flack looked from the timer on the dynamite he was holding, to the enormous wall in front of him. He turned to Sam, who was busy piling other sticks of dynamite in front of the wall. “You’ve got to be kidding me?” Flack muttered in disbelief at him.
Sam turned to take the item Flack was holding off him, giving him a look which clearly said he wasn’t joking, and then added it to the pile. “We have an hour,” said Sam.
Flack watched in horror as the red numbers on the display began to count down. “What about Taylor? And Dean?”
Sam stood up. “We’re going to go save them.”
“Do you know where they are?”
“They’ll be in the mine, ready to be sacrificed.”
Flack shut his eyes. “This is all a bad dream,” he mumbled. “A very bad dream.” But the beeping of the timer was telling him otherwise.
Sam turned to take the item Flack was holding off him, giving him a look which clearly said he wasn’t joking, and then added it to the pile. “We have an hour,” said Sam.
Flack watched in horror as the red numbers on the display began to count down. “What about Taylor? And Dean?”
Sam stood up. “We’re going to go save them.”
“Do you know where they are?”
“They’ll be in the mine, ready to be sacrificed.”
Flack shut his eyes. “This is all a bad dream,” he mumbled. “A very bad dream.” But the beeping of the timer was telling him otherwise.
Originally posted 12/06/2007