Highway to Hell: Episode Four: Series Finale: "Fallen Angel"
Episode 4 : Fallen Angel
Chapter 8: Ashes to Ashes
Chapter Wordcount: 1151
Its sickly black lips were just a breath away from hers when she took one step back and arched her eyebrow.
“Do you for one second think I would seriously let you anywhere near me?” she asked, attitude boiling. “Tsk, tsk, bitch…I would have thought you would have known better,” she mocked, “You see, because this,” she waved her hand to indicate her body, “is Dean’s property.”
Dean’s eyes widened as he shakily got to his feet.
“You little whore,” it hissed, launching itself towards her.
It was stopped just short of striking her by an invisible barrier.
She didn’t even flinch as its face came within an inch of hers and stopped.
It felt along the see through wall before looking up to see that it stood within the Devil’s Trap.
Keep your head about you…don’t take things at face value, Missouri’s voice echoed in Sam’s head, snapping him out of his shocked state.
She tricked it… he thought.
The demon snarled and slammed against the wall of the trap. Monte watched it for a second before heading over to a still shaky Dean and a wide eyed Sam.
“Finish it Sammy,” she whispered.
He nodded and took a few steps forward, taking a deep breath and began reading the Latin from his father’s journal.
She looked at Dean, finally letting her emotions get to her and tears to form in her eyes.
“Dean…” she whispered brokenly.
“Don’t,” he sighed, swallowing against the lump in his throat. “I understand.”
She clenched her jaw, trying to force the tears to retreat and dropped her head.
“Monte…it’s okay,” he whispered. “It hurt like a bitch…but I know why you did it.”
She sighed deep and met his eyes, “It was too focused on causing you guys pain, it didn’t realize what I was doing.”
He nodded before turning back to Sam.
The demon was screaming in pain, its eyes glowing a fire orange and Sam’s voice gained in volume as the wind began to swirl around them.
Dean and Monte walked forward to stand on either side of Sam as the demon roared in anger, sounding something like a bear and a cougar all rolled into one.
“Die bitch,” Dean whispered as Sam said the last line of the exorcism.
The demon’s eyes glowed brighter until they were white, as it threw its head back in screamed in one long drawn out wail.
They all shielded their eyes as the dark being exploded in what looked like a million burning ash embers, falling still ensnared within the Devil’s Trap, where they fell to the cold stone floor and fizzled out.
Sam sighed, “It’s over,” he whispered.
Monte smacked his shoulder and took off running towards John.
Dean and Sam were on her heels when they realized their wounded father had grown disturbingly quiet.
Dean’s back slammed against the speckled pale blue wall and slid down to the tile, his face buried in his hands.
God, how he hated hospitals.
Sam was pacing nervously, refusing to sit down in the vinyl chair one of the nurses had brought for them.
Monte came back from the vending machines with a couple steaming cups of coffee.
“Sam, here, quit biting your damn thumb or it’s gonna bleed.”
His shaky hand reached out and he took the coffee.
As soon as he did tears fell silently down his cheeks, whatever door he had been trying to hold closed had just been opened.
Dean swallowed hard, not sure he could even stomach coffee at that moment and looked at his younger brother with concern.
Sam noticed and gave a small smile, knowing that Dean might not rush over and give him a hug, but he was there, and cared more than probably anyone.
Monte’s boots clunked softly as she turned and made her way down the hall to the nurses’ station.
Hospitals made her skin crawl. She had spent way too much time in them as a kid, when her grandmother was dying from breast cancer. She still knew the layout of every hospital in northwest Georgia and could practically draw you a map.
The smell of antiseptic and plastic. The constant hum and beeps of machines. The nurses annoyingly white shoes. Everything about these places creeped her out. When her grandmother had finally passed away Monte made a promise to herself she would never set foot in another hospital unless she absolutely had too.
The fact that John Winchester had been rushed into the O.R., the fact they still hadn’t heard any news on his condition and the two men that she held so close to her heart were practically sobbing down the hall was a pretty damn good reason.
“Hi…Mary Jo,” she said quietly, noting the nurses name tag, “is there by any chance an empty room…that we could maybe crash in?”
The cranberry-red haired thin lady looked at Monte with sad eyes before glancing at her charts.
“Room 363 is open…but no one gave you permission,” she winked.
“Thank you.”
“Come on, get up.”
“Did you hear something?” Dean asked, shooting to his feet.
She held up her hand to stop both boys in their tracks, “No…but I got the nurses to get us a room, come on, it’s right down here.”
They walked in the dim room, the light from the bathroom giving off just enough of a glow to see.
Sam placed his still untouched coffee on the small rollaway table and slumped down onto the bed closest to the window.
Dean rubbed the back of his neck. “You know, we should really stay out there, in case anything happens.”
Monte grabbed his elbow and all but pushed him into the second bed.
“I made the head nurse promise me that the second she gets any word and the second we can see him she’ll come tell us.”
Dean nodded in defeat and shifted himself into the bed, the plastic and stiff sheets crackling underneath him.
Monte almost shivered. Damn hospitals.
Physical, mental and emotional exhaustion had them all passed out in minutes.
Dean’s head was resting against Monte’s chest, unconsciously listening to her heartbeat.
She ran her fingers softly through his hair. She had only slept for about an hour before jolting awake and nearly waking Sam and Dean in the process. Now she couldn’t get back to sleep.
She kept clicking her way through the T.V. channels but couldn’t find a damn thing to watch. She finally left it on a NASCAR race, with the sound off and threw the corded remote to the foot of the bed.
Just then the small nurse named Mary Jo, peeked her head around the corner and motioned for Monte to come out into the hall.
She carefully maneuvered Dean off of her and went out into the hall.
“Is everything okay?”
The nurse sighed and stuffed her hands into her pocket.
“I’m sorry…”
Previous: Chapter Seven | Next: Chapter Nine
Highway to Hell Master Post
Chapter 8: Ashes to Ashes
Chapter Wordcount: 1151
Its sickly black lips were just a breath away from hers when she took one step back and arched her eyebrow.
“Do you for one second think I would seriously let you anywhere near me?” she asked, attitude boiling. “Tsk, tsk, bitch…I would have thought you would have known better,” she mocked, “You see, because this,” she waved her hand to indicate her body, “is Dean’s property.”
Dean’s eyes widened as he shakily got to his feet.
“You little whore,” it hissed, launching itself towards her.
It was stopped just short of striking her by an invisible barrier.
She didn’t even flinch as its face came within an inch of hers and stopped.
It felt along the see through wall before looking up to see that it stood within the Devil’s Trap.
Keep your head about you…don’t take things at face value, Missouri’s voice echoed in Sam’s head, snapping him out of his shocked state.
She tricked it… he thought.
The demon snarled and slammed against the wall of the trap. Monte watched it for a second before heading over to a still shaky Dean and a wide eyed Sam.
“Finish it Sammy,” she whispered.
He nodded and took a few steps forward, taking a deep breath and began reading the Latin from his father’s journal.
She looked at Dean, finally letting her emotions get to her and tears to form in her eyes.
“Dean…” she whispered brokenly.
“Don’t,” he sighed, swallowing against the lump in his throat. “I understand.”
She clenched her jaw, trying to force the tears to retreat and dropped her head.
“Monte…it’s okay,” he whispered. “It hurt like a bitch…but I know why you did it.”
She sighed deep and met his eyes, “It was too focused on causing you guys pain, it didn’t realize what I was doing.”
He nodded before turning back to Sam.
The demon was screaming in pain, its eyes glowing a fire orange and Sam’s voice gained in volume as the wind began to swirl around them.
Dean and Monte walked forward to stand on either side of Sam as the demon roared in anger, sounding something like a bear and a cougar all rolled into one.
“Die bitch,” Dean whispered as Sam said the last line of the exorcism.
The demon’s eyes glowed brighter until they were white, as it threw its head back in screamed in one long drawn out wail.
They all shielded their eyes as the dark being exploded in what looked like a million burning ash embers, falling still ensnared within the Devil’s Trap, where they fell to the cold stone floor and fizzled out.
Sam sighed, “It’s over,” he whispered.
Monte smacked his shoulder and took off running towards John.
Dean and Sam were on her heels when they realized their wounded father had grown disturbingly quiet.
Dean’s back slammed against the speckled pale blue wall and slid down to the tile, his face buried in his hands.
God, how he hated hospitals.
Sam was pacing nervously, refusing to sit down in the vinyl chair one of the nurses had brought for them.
Monte came back from the vending machines with a couple steaming cups of coffee.
“Sam, here, quit biting your damn thumb or it’s gonna bleed.”
His shaky hand reached out and he took the coffee.
As soon as he did tears fell silently down his cheeks, whatever door he had been trying to hold closed had just been opened.
Dean swallowed hard, not sure he could even stomach coffee at that moment and looked at his younger brother with concern.
Sam noticed and gave a small smile, knowing that Dean might not rush over and give him a hug, but he was there, and cared more than probably anyone.
Monte’s boots clunked softly as she turned and made her way down the hall to the nurses’ station.
Hospitals made her skin crawl. She had spent way too much time in them as a kid, when her grandmother was dying from breast cancer. She still knew the layout of every hospital in northwest Georgia and could practically draw you a map.
The smell of antiseptic and plastic. The constant hum and beeps of machines. The nurses annoyingly white shoes. Everything about these places creeped her out. When her grandmother had finally passed away Monte made a promise to herself she would never set foot in another hospital unless she absolutely had too.
The fact that John Winchester had been rushed into the O.R., the fact they still hadn’t heard any news on his condition and the two men that she held so close to her heart were practically sobbing down the hall was a pretty damn good reason.
“Hi…Mary Jo,” she said quietly, noting the nurses name tag, “is there by any chance an empty room…that we could maybe crash in?”
The cranberry-red haired thin lady looked at Monte with sad eyes before glancing at her charts.
“Room 363 is open…but no one gave you permission,” she winked.
“Thank you.”
“Come on, get up.”
“Did you hear something?” Dean asked, shooting to his feet.
She held up her hand to stop both boys in their tracks, “No…but I got the nurses to get us a room, come on, it’s right down here.”
They walked in the dim room, the light from the bathroom giving off just enough of a glow to see.
Sam placed his still untouched coffee on the small rollaway table and slumped down onto the bed closest to the window.
Dean rubbed the back of his neck. “You know, we should really stay out there, in case anything happens.”
Monte grabbed his elbow and all but pushed him into the second bed.
“I made the head nurse promise me that the second she gets any word and the second we can see him she’ll come tell us.”
Dean nodded in defeat and shifted himself into the bed, the plastic and stiff sheets crackling underneath him.
Monte almost shivered. Damn hospitals.
Physical, mental and emotional exhaustion had them all passed out in minutes.
Dean’s head was resting against Monte’s chest, unconsciously listening to her heartbeat.
She ran her fingers softly through his hair. She had only slept for about an hour before jolting awake and nearly waking Sam and Dean in the process. Now she couldn’t get back to sleep.
She kept clicking her way through the T.V. channels but couldn’t find a damn thing to watch. She finally left it on a NASCAR race, with the sound off and threw the corded remote to the foot of the bed.
Just then the small nurse named Mary Jo, peeked her head around the corner and motioned for Monte to come out into the hall.
She carefully maneuvered Dean off of her and went out into the hall.
“Is everything okay?”
The nurse sighed and stuffed her hands into her pocket.
“I’m sorry…”
Previous: Chapter Seven | Next: Chapter Nine
Highway to Hell Master Post