And the Ground Shook (19/22)
May. 7th, 2007 04:20 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
Characters: Hurt!Dean, John, Sam.
Comments: Are loved and coveted.
I wrote this a while ago. Rereading about the ginie now made me grin. I wrote with without knowing about WIaWSNB, and it contains NO spoilers.
And the Ground Shook
Chapter Nineteen – Search And Rescue (Part Two)
The Winchesters returned to Racetrack Playa near dusk. There were still people around, but John decided to wait no longer.
He drove the car as close as he could to the place Dean had shown them the previous night, bringing them away from curious eyes. John stopped the truck near the site of their recent dig, getting out first to check around. It didn’t seem like any ranger had been there or that anyone had taken notice of the large, eight foot deep hole in the dusty ground. The hole was large and uneven. Its left side had a smaller gap, leading to what seem to be a very long drop.
The gap was narrow, though, not big enough for a grown man to go through. They still had some work to do.
John got back in the truck, taking out a long rope, a shovel and a duffle from the bed of the truck. He motioned his sons to follow, stopping at the front of the truck and expertly tying the rope to the bottom of the truck as Sam slid carefully into the hole.
John stopped Dean just as he was about to follow his brother. "You're gonna stay here, sport. This whole thing doesn’t really look steady. Your brother nearly fell in last night, I'm not taking any chances." He said, tying the rope around his midsection.
"But I want to help."
"It'll help if you're conscious enough to climb down once we're done." John noted, tossing the shovel and duffle down to Sam.
"Dad,"
"Not negotiable." John stopped him, unyielding. "You can keep an eye out, warn us if anyone's getting close. Got it?" John asked, giving Dean a long look until Dean looked away with a sigh.
"Fine. Whatever." He said, plopping down on a large rock, his arms resting on his knees, his head propped on his hands.
It didn’t take them long to enlarge the gaping hole. In fact, it only took a couple shovel strokes or so before the bottom collapsed, falling down with a dull thud. John managed to jump back just in time, flattening Sam against the farther side of the hole to make sure he was okay. They both used John's rope to pull themselves up, John wiping dust and dirt from his face and clothes.
They put the shovel away, taking weapons out of another duffle and arming themselves with everything they could carry.
"Dad?" Dean cried, peering down at the dark, seemingly bottomless hole. John glanced at him as he dropped another couple of clips in his pocket. "Um…" Dean hesitated, looking from the hole to his father and back. "Well, I can climb down no problem," Dean said, "It's the climbing back up I'm not so sure about." He finished. Sam flashed him a dimpled grin.
"Yeah, I figured that last night, when we figured how deep this thing could be." He said, pulling a dark garbage bag from the bed of the truck and spilling it's contents on the ground. A long rope ladder, or rather, two of them, tied at the ends, to make a longer ladder. "I think this will be easier. Plus, we're still gonna use the rope for support, just in case." Sam added. Dean frowned.
"I don’t need a stupid support. I can climb a ladder, I'm not a cripple!" he snapped indignantly.
"Good." John said, tying the rope ladder to the truck, "It's good to know." He added, making the knots extra strong. "You're still gonna use it. Just in case." John lifted his eyes to his son. "Better safe than sorry." He shrugged.
Sam jumped the last few rungs of the rope ladder, raising a little cloud of dust all around him and making Dean choke and cough. "Sorry," Sam said, his cheeks reddening a little, not that anyone could tell in the complete and total darkness.
The air around them was stuffy and musty. It was cold around, colder than it was outside. John shone his strong flashlight around the large, cavernous space.
"You boys stay close to me, got it? Everyone keep close." He said in a low voice that still carried a little. Sam shook his flashlight, trying to get it to light up. He cried out, cursing, when the strong beam of light started working just as he pointed it at his face. Dean sniggered, shining his own light around. He took a few steps to one side, checking something from up close, when John said,
"Alright. Not sure how I like this place. Boys, guns out. Make sure there's a bullet in the barrel. Sammy, use the silver bullets. Dean, you use iron rounds, okay?" both boys nodded, taking their weapons out and loading them, keeping them close.
John walked over to his oldest's side, frowning as he realized what Dean's flashlight beam was pointed at. Dean glanced at him, then looked back at the crushed skeletons. There were many of them; different animals, one or two human.
"Huh." Dean muttered, then cleared his throat. "Well, that's not at all ominous." He said, and started searching the ground for any kind of tracks. Those animals had to get there somehow.
"What is it, Sam?" John asked as he neared his youngest, who was studying one of the many stalagmites closely.
"I don’t know." Sam said, poking the large rock with his finger, trying to scrape a little off the top. He sniffed it, making a face, and stuck his tongue out in disgust. He shone his light around, walking over to another stalagmite. "Something about these stalagmites looks…" he shook his head, going over to yet another large stone. "They almost look human, don’t they? I mean, stretched out, contorted, but… there is a resemblance, isn’t there?" he asked, tilting his head to the side, studying the rock carefully. John considered it, studying the rocks nearest to him as Dean still moved around. John reminded him to remain close.
Sam gasped, turning quickly to the side, pointing his light at a stalagmite he was checking earlier. "I could've sworn I saw that one move." Sam said, pointing at one of the stalagmites behind John, who quickly turned to look at it.
Nothing. A large, smooth stone. John knocked on it. It didn’t sound hollow. Just a pillar.
"Probably just a trick of the light." He said with a shrug. Sam nodded, getting closer to the stalagmite in front of him. There was something etched into it. It almost looked like a word, but Sam couldn’t identify the language. He shone his light directly at it, trying to recognize the letters.
Holy shit, it did move!
Sam gasped. The world tilted as something pummeled him to the ground and he grunted as something heavy landed on top of him.
"Dad, careful!" Dean shouted, far too close to Sam's ears, as he protected his little brother with his own body.
"Dude, move, you're heavy!" Sam grunted and Dean rolled off of him, quickly pulling him to his feet.
"You're welcome." Dean said, then raised his gun and fired at a freaking Bigfoot-shaped rock that came at him. "What the hell?" Dean shrieked. "Bullets aren’t gonna work! It's a freaking rock collection!" he cried, pulling Sam back with him.
John let out a string of curses, dodging another moving pillar, and made it back to his sons.
"Now what?" Sam asked.
"We need to get back up there!" Dean said.
"No, we have to get to the scepter!" John insisted.
"Dad, no point getting to it if we're… rock food." Dean said. Yeah, that was weak, but so was he.
"Golem!" Sam said. Both John and Dean turned their heads to him. "A large, clay warrior. Or rock, I guess. A golem."
"Great." Dean muttered. "How do we get rid of it?" Sam shrugged.
"How the hell should I know?" he asked.
"'Cause you're the resident geek!"
"Boys!" John snapped, firing his shotgun at a golem that was getting too close. The bullet lodged inside it, causing no apparent harm. John cursed.
"Maybe Holy water?" Dean suggested.
"Did we bring any?" Sam asked.
"In the duffle." John gritted out. "Stay here." He ordered, dashing towards the discarded duffle and back to his sons.
"It's too dark, we need more light." Sam said urgently as Dean fired another round, reloading his rifle quickly.
"I have some flares in here, but the smoke could choke us." John said, shoving things aside inside the duffle in a frantic search for the Holy water. He cried in triumph when he finally found it. Dean took an involuntary couple of steps aside. "Lets see if this works…" John muttered, squirting some water on a nearing golem.
"Did it work?" Sam, who had his back turned to his father, asked. Dean looked over his shoulder.
"Yeah. It's wet now." He said. Sam rolled his eyes. John cried out in frustration.
"Boys, start heading back to the ladder. We're not prepared for this." he instructed.
"We could try salt." Dean suggested, "You've got a few canisters, right?"
"Dude, this entire place is full of salt!" Sam said.
"Wouldn't hurt to try." Dean retorted.
"It would if they knock you to the ground." Sam quipped, garnering a glare from his older brother. Sam looked innocently at him and Dean rolled his eyes.
They started inching their way back towards the ladder when Dean let out a cry, doubling over and dropping both his rifle and his flashlight. Sam was quick to support him, trying to help him back up, but Dean just shook his head, gasping for breath and choking on the dust.
A few more shots were heard as John tried to supply some cover. And then something happened. One of the golems that was getting far too close for comfort turned into a pile of rubble. Sam looked questioningly at his father, who seemed just as surprised.
"How'd you do that?" Sam asked.
"Hell if I know." John said, checking his gun. He reloaded it. "But if it happened once…" he said, leaving the sentence hanging. Sam looked at Dean, patting him on the back as the older brother coughed, straining to breathe. Dean dropped to his knees now, the pressure the Leech exerted on his head and chest unbearable. Sam crouched next to him, offering him his bottled water. Dean shook his head, but Sam insisted. Drinking slowly, Dean was rather surprised to find the cool liquid chilled his aching throat, settled comfortably in his stomach, with no threat of making another, quick, appearance.
He rested his head in his hands. The additional shots coming from his father's direction resonated in the large space, increasing his headache. He turned his head away from the sound, turned his eyes away from the harsh light of the flashlight.
And then a thought occurred to him. He reached out a shaky hand, turning his flashlight off. Sam quirked a brow.
"Turn yours off, too." Dean said.
"But…"
"Just… please," Dean said wearily, and Sam obliged.
"Dad, turn the light off!" Dean cried out.
"What?"
"Do it!" Dean ordered, leaving no room to argue. John turned to face him, his expression lost in the shadows as the light from his flashlight was pointed at Dean. Dean grunted, grimacing, and turned his head away, protecting his eyes with his arm. "Just turn it off! You're making it worse, just turn it off!" Dean cried.
"Dean? You okay?" John's gruff voice was laced with worry.
"Just shut the damn thing off!" Dean choked. Hesitantly, John complied. He cocked his gun again, but couldn’t see a damn thing, not even his own hands.
"This is a mistake," he muttered.
"Just listen!" Dean said urgently, hand searching blindly for Sam's water bottle. All three Winchesters stopped everything and strained their ears.
It was difficult to hear anything past the rushing of blood in their ears. Cold sweat trickled down their backs, making them shiver. John's finger stayed on the trigger, even Sam reached for his own gun, his heart pounding in his chest.
Nothing.
They heard absolutely nothing. Well, other than Dean's labored gasps.
And those golems were too big to be this silent. Which meant…
"Well, I'll be damned." John said, for the second time in as many days, a dimpled grin spreading on his face. He turned in the direction of his sons, though he couldn’t be a hundred percent sure he was facing them in the complete darkness that blanketed them. "How'd you know?" John asked.
Dean wiped his brow, staggering to his feet with Sam's help. The pressure wasn’t going away. He wasn’t going to be able to take it for long. "They kept coming from your side. My side was dark, it was completely open, and nothing came. I just figured…" he shrugged.
"Well, either of you see anything?" John asked.
"No, sir." Answered both boys in unison. John ran a hand over his face, exhaling.
"Great." He muttered. "Well, just stay put till your eyes adjust. Don’t move anywhere." John instructed, "And don’t you dare separate, you hear?"
"Yes, sir." Was the reply he received from both sons.
It took them a fairly long time to get their eyes adjusted to the dark. When they did, John scowled at what he saw.
"What the hell do you think you're doing?" he snapped at his eldest, who was sitting on the ground with his back resting against one of the stony golems, its hands outstretched and ready to attack. Dean looked innocently at his father.
"What?" he asked. John ran his hand over his face, shaking his head and looking heavenwards.
"God help me…" he muttered to himself. "Get up!" he ordered his son. Dean grimaced, but slowly got to his feet again.
"So, Dad," Sam piped in, "you know, before, when you said we weren’t prepared for this?" he asked, garnering his father's eyes on him. "You were so totally right." Sam finished, looking around.
The large cave they were in had many tunnels, spidering in every direction. It seemed like a maze. That just couldn’t be a good thing.
"What do we do now?" Sam asked. "Which way?" John sighed, then cursed, kicking the ground in frustration, and in doing so, sending a puff of dust in the air that sent his oldest coughing again. Sam reached in his pocket, taking out a bandana and offering it to his brother.
"I'm not gonna put your booger hotel on my face!" Dean made a disgusted face and Sam rolled his eyes, not that his brother seemed to notice.
"It's clean. I brought it in case we'll need a tourniquet." He said. Dean hesitated a second longer, before reaching for the bandana and tying it around his mouth and nose. It didn’t help much with his breathing, but it seemed to make Sammy happy, so Dean kept it on.
"I don’t know how long it'll take to check them all." John admitted, cursing again.
"We have to start somewhere." Sam said. "Anyone for eeny-meeny-miny-mo?" he suggested. That was the stupidest idea John could think of. They ended up doing just that.
"You okay there, tiger?" John asked as Dean legged behind. Dean didn’t answer. His father slowed his pace, walking alongside him. "You want to rest a little?" John suggested. Dean hesitated a second, but then gave a slight nod.
Sam sat beside his brother, offering him another drink, which Dean refused. "You know, I kinda have a bad feeling about this," Sam whispered. Dean scratched his head tiredly. He looked up quickly. Sam gave a slight nod, he had heard it too.
"You just had to open your mouth, didn’t you?" Dean accused, turning his flashlight on. Sam winced, turning away quickly as the strong light momentarily blinded all three Winchesters. When their eyes adjusted to the light, they looked around them. And cursed.
"What is this? I feel like I'm in a freaking Arabian Nights' tale, minus the half-naked chicks!" Dean snapped.
"Language." John said, slowly taking out his machete. Dean look incredulously at him.
"We're surrounded by freaking walking skeletons, and it's my language you're worried about?" he demanded. John spared him an angry glare before launching himself at the closest of the six skeletons. Fighting undead skeletons. That was… new.
The dead, or rather, undead skeletons weren’t nearly fast enough for John and Sam, and not five minutes later, a pile of crushed bones lay scattered on the ground. Dean shone his light farther ahead in the tunnel. More skeletons. Many more. Some of them armed.
"What the hell is this place?" Dean muttered. "I vote we take another way." He said, turning the light back off as he started doubling back. His father and brother hesitated for a moment, but quickly followed him down another tunnel. "Hey, Sammy, think we'll find us a genie?" Dean asked his little brother with a smirk on his face, "'Cause, dude, I have like, the best three wishes…" he added, chuckling.
"Yeah? You're gonna ask for a sense of humor?" Sam asked. Dean winced.
"Man, I'm having the life sucked out of me, but that? That hurt." He said, punching Sammy in the arm.
"Ow! Dean!" Sam hissed, and John told them both to keep their cake holes shut. They kept walking in silence for another few minutes, until Dean just couldn’t resist.
"Seriously, Sammy, what story do you suppose we gonna find ourselves in next?" he asked, "I bet it's the one with that huge round rock that came from that tunnel right behind them, you know, like a bowling ball, when they tried to get to that gold statue?" he nudged Sam in his ribs.
"Dean, read a book for once, okay? The rolling stone thing was from Indiana Jones!" Sam hissed. Dean scratched his head, and then smirked. That was a totally cool movie.
Not long after that, they came to a crossroads where five different tunnels met. Dean never even hesitated; choosing the one to his far left. John stopped him.
"Wait,"
"It's that way." Dean said simply.
"What is?"
"The scepter. I know where it is." Dean said. John raised a suspicious brow.
"How?" he demanded. Dean shrugged.
"I just do."
TBC
Where it all started >> 2 >> 3 >> 4 >> 5 >> 6 >> 7 >> 8 >> 9 >> 10 >> 11 >> 12 >> 13 >> 14 >> 15 >> 16 >> 17 >> Search & Rescue I
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Date: 2007-05-14 08:33 am (UTC)More is coming soon.