(no subject)

[sunnydalealum]

It's a bigger room, this time. The better to fit two dozen zhirelin in addition to the sorcerers themselves.

The conference room setup this time is much hastier, at Emma's orders. The table's been upended against the wall instead of removed entirely; the blood in the spell diagram is still tacky. Everything's in place, including the two most vital components: the real Kshaartian mandrake, and the Scythe.

Emma's trying hard not to pace as the two red-robed apprentices bend to light the first candles, as the priests in their darker robes begin chanting.

We're in the homestretch. Go. Go. Go.

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[hopeitsworthit]

Dean tries to yank himself forward, to get away from the fucking wall, but--

Well, hey, what do you know?

It works.

He stumbles forward a step, training taking over as he hears the shots, as he sees--

[comm-npc-2.livejournal.com]

-- the hellhound recoiling back, bleeding and snarling but not falling over --

-- two of the other demons raising their hands in the familiar gesture, beginning to glow yellow-white --

[sunnydalealum]

-- Emma dropping to a crouch, and lunging forward to grab the Scythe as Sam steps forward off of it.

[gavemea_45]

The hellhound's wounded, which means the more immediate problem now is whatever spell the two red sorcerers are gearing up to cast.

Sam doesn't plan on waiting around to find out what it is.

Can't give them the chance--got to get them both at once--

One more step forward, and it's just enough. Sam lifts the sideways-lying table and shoves it through the air at them, putting all his strength behind it.

[hopeitsworthit]

Dean takes half a moment to put a bullet in the blue demon slumped against the wall.






Okay, maybe two bullets. Just in case.

But the bulk of his attention is on Emma.

"Now where do you think you're going, sweetheart?"

He's got quite a grip on him.

Emma's gonna have bruises later.

You know--

If she lives.

[sunnydalealum]

Whether or not, actually.

Emma twists, bringing up the Scythe; she's making no attempt to turn it and use the blade, just trying to knock Dean's gun hand aside.

[hopeitsworthit]

Yeah, because Dean's never seen that trick before.

His fingers tighten on her arm as he swings his knee up into her gut, pulling her forward enough that her blow ain't going where she thinks it is.

Then he cracks her in the temple with the butt of his gun.

Hard.

Bitch is lucky she's human.

[gavemea_45]

"Dean? Talk to me, man--"

Sam doesn't spare a glance behind him, being far too occupied with what's going on in front of him. Two demons down and dead, but the other two are only temporarily downed by the table--

--which, Sam notices, has sent them sprawling into the middle of the spell pattern on the floor.

He snatches up the fallen black cloth that had once covered the table the Scythe had lain on, grabs one of the burning candles from the iron stands around the sides of the room, and strides forward.

The cloth ignites with a whoosh as Sam throws both it and the candle into the center of the marked spell-- and as it lands, the pattern explodes into lines of flame.

[sunnydalealum]

A wavering scream goes up, and one of the sorcerers staggers to its feet, arms flailing uselessly. Ripples of brighter light begin to run along the lines of fire, from the outermost ring inward: yellow, red, yellow again, white, sickly green.

(At the center of the spell-circle, almost invisible under the sweep of black cloth, a flaky gray root writhes in the flame.)

[comm-npc-2.livejournal.com]

The wounded hellhound is bleeding black onto the floor; it staggers, one paw scrabbling weakly at the floorboards, and tries to drag itself away from the flames. Looks like it's on its last legs.

Until it gathers itself like a coiling spring and leaps, teeth bared.

[hopeitsworthit]

"Jesus!" Dean says (not yelps. Dean does not yelp.)

His attention snaps from the blazing spell circle to whatever the hell is moving that fast.

His gun comes up a second later, two shots slamming into the hellhound.

Whatever was in its head, it sure makes a mess splattered all over the floor like that.

[gavemea_45]

Sam whirls at the first shot, in time to see the body of the hellhound fall, and takes in the rest of the scene as well.

He glances at the unconscious Emma, then trades a look with Dean.

"We done here?"

[hopeitsworthit]

"Pretty much."

Dean looks down at Emma, mouth twisting like he's smelling something rank.

"You wanna pick up your pretty little toy there, Sammy?"

He grins.

"Seein' as you're the pretty pretty princess, after all."

[gavemea_45]

Sam gives him a look, but crouches down to retrieve the Scythe, taking it easily from Emma's limp fingers.

He glances back at the growing fire in the center of the room, and his jaw tightens.

When he stands up again, he's carrying Emma as well as the Scythe. Sam meets Dean's eyes.

"She'll die if we leave her in here."

[hopeitsworthit]

Dean's eyebrows go up.

"And your point is?"

He holds Sam's eyes for a couple seconds, then heaves a sigh.

"Yeah, yeah, quit your bitching."

He's not gentle when he hefts Emma over his shoulder.

Go figure.

[sunnydalealum]

The two figures crumpled in the middle of the spell-circle aren't moving anymore. The fire isn't spreading fast, but bitter reddish smoke is starting to collect in the air.

Breathing it might not be a great idea.

[gavemea_45]

"Let's go."

He suits actions to words, pushing the door open and glancing up and down the hall before leading the way out of the room.

[jonathanparagon.livejournal.com]

And this would be where Jonathan comes strolling calmly but intently down the corridor, looking for them.

"Hey, guys."

[balletrat]

Meg's keeping pace behind him, glancing around nervously; she looks, at this point, more like an image badly Photoshopped onto the background than anything else.

When she sees the Winchesters, there's an audible sigh of relief.

One part of the plan, anyways, has gone like it should.

[hopeitsworthit]

"Jesus."

Dean's eyes widen when he catches sight of Meg, fumbling with Emma in an attempt to grab a weapon.

Then he stops, looking a little sheepish.

"Dude, don't do that." Three guesses who he's talking to.

After he resettles Emma--man, does this chick weigh a ton--he looks at Jonathan.

"So. Uh. This mean we're ready to go?"

[gavemea_45]

"More than, I'm thinking."

The look Meg gets is fast and a little guarded before Sam glances up and down the hallway, then gestures with the Scythe.

"We got what we came for."

[jonathanparagon.livejournal.com]

Jonathan nods, all business.

"Then let's get out of here."

[hopeitsworthit]

"Not gonna argue with you about that," Dean says, smile sharp and a little crooked.

He hoists Emma into a more comfortable position, sharing a look with Sam.

"Got some trash to drop off first, though. Gimme a second."

He's not careful when he opens a nearby door, dropping Emma unceremoniously on a chair.

If he managed to whack her elbow, her knee, or her head in the meantime, so much the better.

Then he comes back out.

"Okay. Now we can go."

[jonathanparagon.livejournal.com]

Jonathan glances through the door, unconcerned but noting where Emma got to and her current condition. Just in case.

Then he reaches for the next door along.

[gavemea_45]

This one leads back.

Sam trades a look with Dean and nods, then goes through.

His brother's not far behind him.