Traveling
Summary: After witnessing something not quite possible, even for their line of work, Sam and Dean end up having to put up with a tag along until they can find out a way to send him back home. After all, how hard can it be to send twenty year old Cal Leandros back through a portal to his alternate universe without risking both worlds crashing in on each other? Demons to left of them, Auphe to the right… and one very pissed off Niko desperate to get his brother back.
Disclaimer: This is written completely in fun and no infringement is intended. I own neither Cal Leandros or anything associated with the series, nor do I own Supernatural.
Warning for bad language.
A/N: I have two other on going stories at the moment, I know, I'm sorry. But ask anyone and they'll tell you I'm obsessed with Cal Leandros at the moment. I must have bought Nightlife over a year ago now and fell in love with it and Cal but have only recently managed to catch up with the rest of the books in the series (well, nearly - I'm halfway through book four Deathwish at the moment). But the point is - Cal is unbelievably awesome and Rob Thurman is a woman who truly knows how to tell a amazingly good tale with the perfect type of characters that will drag you into the world she created without any kicking or screaming (lots of squeeing, yes... lots of that). If you haven't read the books - I'd recommend them to anyone and most definitely fellow Supernatural fans. I just hope I can do her amazing characters justice... I've never been so scared about posting a story before. But here goes...
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Chapter 1
"You wanna tell me why we're here again?" Dean raised a challenging eyebrow at his brother as he paused in his movements. He knew why they were there. He'd heard it over and over again. Some creature had torn apart a couple of people in this very same park within the last week and due to the nature of the attacks – bloody, ragged claw marks and barely enough of the bodies left to identify the victims – the brothers, meaning Sam, had decided that it was their type of thing.
Dean wasn't arguing with that. In fact, Dean was right there with him. The part that he didn't get was why the hell they were in the same park at night… with no clue as to what had been doing the killing – or more aptly, the maiming. He highly doubted that his 45, tucked in the waistband of his jeans, and the sawed off shotgun, currently tapping against his right thigh, was going to be enough to stop this thing. So why Sam thought it would be an excellent idea to try and catch a glimpse of the thing – the monster, the killer, the maimer and destroyer – would be a good idea, was beyond him.
"Because if we don't know what it is, then we can't stop it. And claw marks and a few half-mutilated bodies aren't exactly much to go on being that I can think of ten different creatures off the top of my head that would kill like that." Sam heaved an exasperated sigh and raised his own eyebrow at Dean, challenging right back.
"So we're playing the bait?"
Sam shook his head in response, though Dean knew he wasn't answering the question but instead showing his frustration, and turned away, back to patrolling the park. "Soon as we see this thing, we're gone."
"Sure, unless it sees us first." Ever the optimist. That was Dean Winchester. With their run of luck though, no one could really blame him. Pushing forward, he kicked a stone across the grassy area and watched as it skipped, bounced and then skidded off somewhere to be consumed by the shadows. It was about the only movement that there was to be seen, well unless you counted the rustling of leaves as the wind whispered through the trees.
He looked up at them, watching the greens and reds dancing, summer quickly turning to autumn. But yep, aside from Sam and him, those were the only other things in the entire stinking park that were moving. Maybe that's what they were dealing with -something out of a sci-fi movie gone wrong, killer trees from beyond the stars. But he brushed the idea from his mind. It wasn't safe to daydream about things like that after all, especially not when some deadly killer could jump down from the cover of those leaves and rip you apart before you could even blink.
He opened his mouth, tempted to bitch and whine some more. But there was an almost silent hiss and pop in the air, so quiet that if it hadn't been the dead of night in the middle of some out of the way hick town, he was sure he wouldn't have heard it. Then there was the sudden appearance of shadows in front of him and Sam, stretched across the ground as if a light had suddenly been turned on behind them. But there were no streetlights in this area of the park, the only lighting coming from the flashlights in their hands and from the light pollution that filtered in through the cracks in the trees. All the same, there were definitely shadows which meant, there was definitely a light.
He turned, seeing Sam doing the same from the corner of his eye, and raised his shotgun ready to aim and fire. But what he saw was definitely not what he expected. It was a light. A greyish turmoil of light. It hung heavy in the air before them, several feet away from where they stood rooted to the spot. That in itself wasn't so strange. No, what really made his skin crawl was the fact that it looked as through someone had pulled apart the very air itself, slicing through the particles and atoms to create a thing of light that just hung there… staring at them.
No way. No freaking way. That couldn't be possible. Just what the hell was that thing? Dean had seen his share of freaky. He'd seen his share of a lot of things. But this was different.
"Sam…" he started, the question evident enough on his voice and in just that one name that he didn't need to actually say it.
"Yeah Dean, I see it." Judging by Sam's level reply, Dean figured his brother was about as clueless as he was but still, he couldn't stop himself from asking his next question even if he knew Sam wouldn't know the answer.
"What is that thing?"
Sam didn't even get a chance to reply though. His 'I haven't got a clue' remaining unsaid as something actually came tumbling out of the light. The same something was thrashing about wildly on the ground in front of it, rolling back and forth as the light began to fade, closing in on itself slowly… so slowly. But before it closed completely, the light revealed just enough so that Dean could make out that it wasn't a something – it was two somethings.
They grappled each other, each trying to gain the upper hand in a fight that they thought no one else was watching. Grunting, huffing, growling. And then finally, there was a scream. A loud, ear piercing screaming that sounded like the thing that had made the noise had broken glass and bone coating it's throat. Both forms fell lax. Then with a heave, the one beneath threw off the other and stood, bending long enough to retrieve something that looked like a goddamn short sword from the others stomach.
And it was as he stood, pulling the sword free from the bloody broken mess of flesh and who only knew what else, that Dean realised it was a kid. Well, technically a twenty year old looking kid, but a kid none the less. Skin as pale as his hair was dark, a slash down his cheek that Dean guessed had come from the dead creature on the ground. Dressed in black, the kid was breathing heavily, attitude and rage coming off in waves as he stared down at the dead thing with something so much more than hatred… The short sword wasn't the only weapon in his hands, a Desert Eagle sitting snug in his other hand and before Dean even realised that his own gun had lowered, the kid raised the Desert Eagle so it was pointing straight at Dean's head.
He didn't shoot though. His finger drawing back at the last second as his grey eyes flashed around his surroundings for the briefest of seconds before falling back to Dean and Sam. He drew in a deep breath and frowned, but didn't lower the gun. Not once did he lower the gun. Not once did he let down his guard. Even as he glanced behind him at where the light had been, even as he cursed under his breath… the gun never wavered.
"Where am I?" he asked, jaw clenching and eyes sparking with an emotion Dean recognised so clearly as worry, the need to be somewhere else, the need to get back to wherever the hell you had just been… such as back through a goddamn gateway of grey light. Desperation. His finger flexed on the trigger but didn't pull.
"Hicksville, doorway to the twilight zone apparently," Dean grinned as he spoke, showing that he wasn't afraid of some punk ass kid with a pretty little toy.
The kid took another glance around at that, panic flitting across his eyes. "You're shitting me right? You're goddamn shitting me." His teeth clenched and his eyes studied the pair again, his grip on the gun tightening. "Tell me where the hell I am right this minute before I blow both your asses away."
Dean rolled his eyes. The kid wasn't stupid. Surely he could see that they had weapons too and no matter how good a shot he was, no matter how good he may be with a sword, there was no way he wouldn't end up injured himself. But again Dean saw it, the flash of desperation in his eyes. "I'm telling you kid – wherever you've came from and however the hell you got here – right now, you're in the middle of nowhere, Virginia."
"Virginia?" Disbelief… so much disbelief and horror in just that one word. It was a miracle that the kid didn't collapse where he stood, the way his impossible white skin went an even paler shade, realisation slapping him hard across the face. "No… that's not possible."
"We just saw you come tumbling from a rip in the air itself… I'm thinking it's pretty damn possible at this moment in time."
And finally the kid lowered his gun, hopelessness seeming to fill him as he spun on the spot, searching the area for proof that this place wasn't Virginia… searching for some tiny scrap of evidence. He wasn't gonna find it though. Being that Dean remembered passing the sign and border quite clearly. But who was he to deny the kid a moment or two of denial?
Sam took a step forward so he was slightly in front of Dean, weapons down, hands out and to the side to show he was no threat, and head lowered minutely. "Look, I'm Sam and this is my brother Dean… if you tell us what just happened, we may be able to help."
That definitely deserved a backhander across the chest and a low throaty grumble. "You're offering him help when we should be Christo'ing his ass? He's could be a demon for all we know."
In return, Sam glared at him, heaving a weary sigh. "He's just a kid Dean and he's…lost."
Lost. He's just a kid and he's lost. Just a kid who came tumbling through a goddamn light in the air with a Desert Eagle and mini sword as he, who is just a kid, slayed some creepy ass creature right in front of them… just a kid who couldn't believe that it was even possible that he was in Virginia. Lost… definitely goddamn lost.
"Nik…" The kid hadn't aimed the word at them but it got their attention anyway, and as he truly did take on the expression of a lost child as he turned and sprinted off towards the lightened sidewalk on the other side of the trees, Dean realised that it wasn't just a word. It was a name. And the way it was said… the anxiety behind it, the strangled hopelessness and pure need. A brother.
But the kid didn't hang around long enough for him to ask out loud. Hell, the kid was gone almost as soon as he turned away, running like he truly did know how to run… running like he had done it for all of his life. He did leave them a present though. The creature still lay there on the ground before them… dead, bloody and ugly as hell.
It could have been anything. But it wasn't like anything Dean had ever seen before. Moving closing, their flashlight beams crossed as the pair looked it over – white skin stretched across a bony frame, deadened eyes red like molten lava, teeth sharp and deadly – looking something akin to needles. It's ears were pointed and it's hands more like claws, the nails hard and as deadly as those horrible metallic teeth. Yep – ugly as hell.
It was also salted and burned before anyone else could happen across the scene. Well, wasn't that just an awesome night's work? He was sure he'd wake up tomorrow thinking it had all been some crazy dream…
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