((Contains reference to adult situations. You have been warned. ;-) ))
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There was nothing controlled about the chaos Dean found himself returned to. The cellar of that cabin outside Fremont was lit by the flickering remains of a dying flare, casting long shadows with each movement of the demon/human hybrids all around him. Red-eyed, tattooed hybrids that moved past him, barely giving him a second glance, every one of them showing signs of bullet or blade, attesting to the fight that had been raging in the gloom.
"Dean!" The voice was Apollo's, the low rasp almost familiar now but for the rough suggestion of pain in the tone. The god was pressed back into a corner of the small cellar by the crush of hybrid bodies, silver/blue eyes peering into the deeper darkness beneath the stairs behind Dean. "Nim ....she's back there -"
He didn't need to pinpoint the woman's exact location. The sharp report of a handgun still sounded periodically from that thicker darkness, between distinctively feminine sounds of pain. A snarl sounded from the knot of hybrids crowding into the small space beneath the stairs to the cabin above; Nim cried out as cloth and flesh ripped, and her gun was thrust out of the darkness to clatter harmlessly at Dean's feet. A moment later, the woman herself came into view ....at speed.
Her impact against the wall was hard enough to knock breath and consciousness from her, her body slumping heavily to the ground, bleeding from a dozen or more scratches and bites, her clothing torn and bloodied. Every hybrid turned their red eyes onto her, surging forward with the clear intent to kill, urged onward by an incoherent groan from their midst.
Thrust suddenly back to 2012 without any real warning and finding himself, just as Death had promised, right in the middle of a fight, Dean had very little time to think about what was going on around him. He heard Apollo's voice calling his name from the corner, telling him where to find Nim, who Dean now knew was the target of the attack, not himself.
"Where's the Alpha?" Dean shouted over the din of the fray, wishing he'd taken the time to read what Nimue had written in the journal before returning here. He'd thought there'd be plenty of time for that once he'd returned, choosing instead to spend every last minute with her and Sammy, and now he was berating himself for not being better prepared.
Before Apollo could reply to his question, Dean's attention was drawn to Nim's hiding place, but before he could reach her, she was being thrown like a rag doll across the room to impact with the wall, her gun clattering at his feet. He watched for only a split second, unable to stop what had happened, wishing Death had sent him back just a few minutes earlier, but nothing could be done about that now. Anger flared and with it came the adrenaline rush Dean always felt when going into a fight, giving him the courage and the strength to do what needed to be done, no matter the outcome.
With the sweep of his left hand, he plucked Nim's gun up from the floor, while his right reached for the one safely hidden inside his jacket. "Aim for the head!" he shouted again, hoping Apollo would hear him and do something other than just witness the carnage around him. Dean set his jaw as he lifted both weapons, not taking the time to see if Nim's was still loaded, and squeezed both triggers, aiming at the head of the hybrids, making every shot count, the first aimed for those nearest Nimue as he attempted to clear a path toward her from the spot where he'd made his arrival.
Crushed into his corner, Apollo roared at the sight of the young woman he'd made a point of guarding tossed aside as though she were made of nothing more substantial than rags. His eyes blazed silver once again, illuminating the cellar as he brought the two guns in his own hands to bear. An inexperienced gunman, nonetheless his shots seemed to count more than miss, aimed to help Dean clear that path toward the fallen Nim as the god pushed himself through the crowd of hybrid creatures. Each bullet to the head took one down, dropping them for a precious minute or two, quieting the raging attack that seethed around them. "Which one is the Alpha?"
How the hell should I know? Dean thought, annoyed. With very little time to explain, he shouted the only answer that made any sense. "The one that's different from all the rest! The one that's giving orders!" Each shot met its mark, downing one hybrid after another as Dean cut a slow path toward Nim, but he knew that unless they killed the Alpha, the others would only stay down for a short while, affording them little time or means for escape. Dean threw a glance around, looking for the one he heard grunting what sounded to him like orders, but the glance cost him, as one of the hybrids ripped into his jacket, claws drawing blood.
"Son of a bitch," he muttered, spinning around to squeeze off a point blank shot at his attacker's head. He was slowly inching his way toward Nim, but unless they found the Alpha, it wouldn't matter.
Despite her barely conscious state, Nim still let out another cry of pain as she was hoisted up from the floor by a strangely unmarked hybrid. The red eyes burned with some form of intelligence as they raked over the young woman's limp form, holding her up against the wall as others reached for her limbs, clearly intending to pull her apart if only they could.
With an almighty heave, Apollo thrust himself to Dean's side, kicking aside the body of his latest victim as the hybrid went down. "There," he panted, surprised by how quickly he had become breathless in a battle where he dared not use the abilities that made him powerful. He pointed with Dean's own Beretta to where Nim was in very mortal danger. "There's your Alpha. Go - go!"
Just as Apollo reached his side to point it out, Dean spied the hybrid who was different than all the rest pull Nim up off the floor, looking as though he was ready to tear her to pieces, and Dean surged forward, stepping over fallen bodies as if they were nothing but offal, levelling a shot at every hybrid who got in his way. Nim's gun clicked uselessly, and he tossed it aside. He carefully aimed the gun in his right hand, levelled at the head of the one he assumed was the Alpha, and squeezed off a shot.
The Alpha rocked on his feet, his grasp on the female hunter loosened enough that Nim slumped back down the sheer dirt wall, crumpling as quickly as the hybrids that had been reaching for her in the first place. A yell from behind Dean suggested that, for all his enthusiasm, Apollo had been knocked out of the fight temporarily, a crash of bodies against the floor evidence to that effect. Unlike the tattooed hybrids, the Alpha did not fall with a bullet in his skull. He simply paused, as though absorbing the shot, and bent once again to reach for Nim's unconscious form.
Well, at least, it's stupid, Dean thought. Too dumb or too focused to turn and defend itself, though it was little comfort as Dean's back was now exposed, and he felt the rake of claws as two of the hybrids tried to take him down. Groaning in pain, he hesitated just a moment, lowering the gun as he turned to face his attackers. As if it wasn't bad enough that his shoulder was aching, he was now bleeding from several fresh wounds, though they were nothing compared to Nim's injuries. More pissed than afraid, he squeezed off another shot, taking one down, just as another knocked the gun from his hand and shoved him aside with enough force to send him sprawling against the fireplace.
There was nothing controlled about the chaos Dean found himself returned to. The cellar of that cabin outside Fremont was lit by the flickering remains of a dying flare, casting long shadows with each movement of the demon/human hybrids all around him. Red-eyed, tattooed hybrids that moved past him, barely giving him a second glance, every one of them showing signs of bullet or blade, attesting to the fight that had been raging in the gloom.
"Dean!" The voice was Apollo's, the low rasp almost familiar now but for the rough suggestion of pain in the tone. The god was pressed back into a corner of the small cellar by the crush of hybrid bodies, silver/blue eyes peering into the deeper darkness beneath the stairs behind Dean. "Nim ....she's back there -"
He didn't need to pinpoint the woman's exact location. The sharp report of a handgun still sounded periodically from that thicker darkness, between distinctively feminine sounds of pain. A snarl sounded from the knot of hybrids crowding into the small space beneath the stairs to the cabin above; Nim cried out as cloth and flesh ripped, and her gun was thrust out of the darkness to clatter harmlessly at Dean's feet. A moment later, the woman herself came into view ....at speed.
Her impact against the wall was hard enough to knock breath and consciousness from her, her body slumping heavily to the ground, bleeding from a dozen or more scratches and bites, her clothing torn and bloodied. Every hybrid turned their red eyes onto her, surging forward with the clear intent to kill, urged onward by an incoherent groan from their midst.
Thrust suddenly back to 2012 without any real warning and finding himself, just as Death had promised, right in the middle of a fight, Dean had very little time to think about what was going on around him. He heard Apollo's voice calling his name from the corner, telling him where to find Nim, who Dean now knew was the target of the attack, not himself.
"Where's the Alpha?" Dean shouted over the din of the fray, wishing he'd taken the time to read what Nimue had written in the journal before returning here. He'd thought there'd be plenty of time for that once he'd returned, choosing instead to spend every last minute with her and Sammy, and now he was berating himself for not being better prepared.
Before Apollo could reply to his question, Dean's attention was drawn to Nim's hiding place, but before he could reach her, she was being thrown like a rag doll across the room to impact with the wall, her gun clattering at his feet. He watched for only a split second, unable to stop what had happened, wishing Death had sent him back just a few minutes earlier, but nothing could be done about that now. Anger flared and with it came the adrenaline rush Dean always felt when going into a fight, giving him the courage and the strength to do what needed to be done, no matter the outcome.
With the sweep of his left hand, he plucked Nim's gun up from the floor, while his right reached for the one safely hidden inside his jacket. "Aim for the head!" he shouted again, hoping Apollo would hear him and do something other than just witness the carnage around him. Dean set his jaw as he lifted both weapons, not taking the time to see if Nim's was still loaded, and squeezed both triggers, aiming at the head of the hybrids, making every shot count, the first aimed for those nearest Nimue as he attempted to clear a path toward her from the spot where he'd made his arrival.
Crushed into his corner, Apollo roared at the sight of the young woman he'd made a point of guarding tossed aside as though she were made of nothing more substantial than rags. His eyes blazed silver once again, illuminating the cellar as he brought the two guns in his own hands to bear. An inexperienced gunman, nonetheless his shots seemed to count more than miss, aimed to help Dean clear that path toward the fallen Nim as the god pushed himself through the crowd of hybrid creatures. Each bullet to the head took one down, dropping them for a precious minute or two, quieting the raging attack that seethed around them. "Which one is the Alpha?"
How the hell should I know? Dean thought, annoyed. With very little time to explain, he shouted the only answer that made any sense. "The one that's different from all the rest! The one that's giving orders!" Each shot met its mark, downing one hybrid after another as Dean cut a slow path toward Nim, but he knew that unless they killed the Alpha, the others would only stay down for a short while, affording them little time or means for escape. Dean threw a glance around, looking for the one he heard grunting what sounded to him like orders, but the glance cost him, as one of the hybrids ripped into his jacket, claws drawing blood.
"Son of a bitch," he muttered, spinning around to squeeze off a point blank shot at his attacker's head. He was slowly inching his way toward Nim, but unless they found the Alpha, it wouldn't matter.
Despite her barely conscious state, Nim still let out another cry of pain as she was hoisted up from the floor by a strangely unmarked hybrid. The red eyes burned with some form of intelligence as they raked over the young woman's limp form, holding her up against the wall as others reached for her limbs, clearly intending to pull her apart if only they could.
With an almighty heave, Apollo thrust himself to Dean's side, kicking aside the body of his latest victim as the hybrid went down. "There," he panted, surprised by how quickly he had become breathless in a battle where he dared not use the abilities that made him powerful. He pointed with Dean's own Beretta to where Nim was in very mortal danger. "There's your Alpha. Go - go!"
Just as Apollo reached his side to point it out, Dean spied the hybrid who was different than all the rest pull Nim up off the floor, looking as though he was ready to tear her to pieces, and Dean surged forward, stepping over fallen bodies as if they were nothing but offal, levelling a shot at every hybrid who got in his way. Nim's gun clicked uselessly, and he tossed it aside. He carefully aimed the gun in his right hand, levelled at the head of the one he assumed was the Alpha, and squeezed off a shot.
The Alpha rocked on his feet, his grasp on the female hunter loosened enough that Nim slumped back down the sheer dirt wall, crumpling as quickly as the hybrids that had been reaching for her in the first place. A yell from behind Dean suggested that, for all his enthusiasm, Apollo had been knocked out of the fight temporarily, a crash of bodies against the floor evidence to that effect. Unlike the tattooed hybrids, the Alpha did not fall with a bullet in his skull. He simply paused, as though absorbing the shot, and bent once again to reach for Nim's unconscious form.
Well, at least, it's stupid, Dean thought. Too dumb or too focused to turn and defend itself, though it was little comfort as Dean's back was now exposed, and he felt the rake of claws as two of the hybrids tried to take him down. Groaning in pain, he hesitated just a moment, lowering the gun as he turned to face his attackers. As if it wasn't bad enough that his shoulder was aching, he was now bleeding from several fresh wounds, though they were nothing compared to Nim's injuries. More pissed than afraid, he squeezed off another shot, taking one down, just as another knocked the gun from his hand and shoved him aside with enough force to send him sprawling against the fireplace.