Pairing/Characters: team free will 2.0 (claire novak, jesse turner, ben barnes)
Word Count: 874
Summary: It was quiet; that kind of hush that wraps around you when you watch a scary movie. Quiet, pause, ‘Hello?’, no answer, step, crunch, pause again and bam! Zombie’s everywhere, a bone fide Apocalypse for the undead sci-fi geek. People say it’s all bullshit, but Ben? Ben knows better.
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction based on a fandom concept from Supernatural. Bless this fandom.
A/N: Written for an enlish class short story, never got around to posting for the world to see so here you go!
It was quiet; that kind of hush that wraps around you when you watch a scary movie. Quiet, pause, ‘Hello?’, no answer, step, crunch, pause again and bam! Zombie’s everywhere, a bone fide Apocalypse for the undead sci-fi geek. People say it’s all bullshit, but Ben? Ben knows better.
He knows that, by some freaky stroke of luck, the movies cut pretty close to the reality of those situations- and he should know, he’s currently in one.
He knows he’s been zapped away from them, but he can still picture his friends in all their almost defeated but defiant glory; Jesse slumped half-conscious against the wall, making a valiant attempt to exorcise the demon with his BAMF mind-powers, and Claire channelling her anger into a crazy-hot destructive force.
And Ben, well, Ben’s now freaking out because he’s imagining what’s going down while he’s not there and every scenario he’s come upon doesn’t end well for anyone.
His hunter’s instinct’s kick in as he catalogues his whereabouts. Eerie woods, total silence, the smell of ozone before the rain that’s comforting and anxiety inducing for no reason he can currently name. There’s no immediate danger, but he can’t relax until he knows who mojo’d him into this slasher film set up.
Ben’s eyes have adjusted to the dark, and his ears ring in the absence of grunts and moans. He grips his father’s Colt tighter and slides the small flashlight Jesse gave him out of his pocket and steadies them- forearms crossed over one another.
The light casts a shadow that looks like wings onto the damp leaf-littered ground, and Ben locks his body into a fight stance because he knows what this means.
They’d found him. And that didn’t bode well for him; that didn’t bode well for any of them.
‘What do you want?’ He’s had a little experience with these guys throughout the years, and he’s had his family been ripped apart by them. Revenge was high on his list of things to do to these bastards, but they weren’t exactly the easiest creatures to gank.
Angels were supposed to be divine, trust-worthy and fierce. What they had done to the earth years before had exposed them as cowardly, gullible and deceitful. Ben was taught not to trust them; everybody was taught not to trust an angel after the Armageddon-that-wasn’t.
‘Ben.’ It’s gravelly and vaguely familiar, like something half-remembered, buried within the memories of his father and uncle and hunting. The shadows shift and he feels those blue eyes on him, waiting, watching.
‘I know you.’ Its gaze doesn’t waver. ‘My dad knew you.’ The shadow of the angel’s wings flutter as if it wishes to fly away from the connection.
There’s wind blowing through the woods now, the silence somehow persisting even so. He has nothing to defend against this being- the Colt in his hand, the salt, the holy water and the knives will do nothing- and maybe bringing up his dad wasn’t such a good idea after all.
The scenery shifts unnaturally and now he can see the creature.
The only angel his dad told him he could trust.
Ben’s breath stutters in his chest as he remembers. Remembers the stories of this Angel of the Lord. The stories his family brought him up on about this scruffy angel who brought Dean back to life and gave Ben a father.
But why is he here? Dean’s been dead for years, and Ben is hanging out with ‘unsavoury’ company these days. (Unsavoury according to his run-ins with all manner of supernatural creatures. But the un-used vessel of an angel and the Anti-Christ have kept his ass covered so far, he’s not gonna complain about the fact that he made friends with them so long as they keep it up.)
Ben really doesn’t understand what’s going on though; he’s not exactly the go-to guy for members of the God-squad. He’s the go-to guy for a demon exorcism or a good old monster ass-kicking fest.
Cocky and a flirt, he’s his father’s son- and he knows this angel can see that. This angel who helped save the world.
It’s a question he’s not sure he wants answered, but he needs to know. He needs to know so angel-boy can zap him back to his friends and save the day once again.
He can feel a chill setting in and the woods flood back into awareness, the hush thicker than before. These angels should really get into showbiz; horror film set design seems right up their ally.
And as if the angel had been reading his mind (and he might have, one of the perks of being part of His cheerleading team) the woods flicker before his eyes, the angel smiling sadly at him as he steadily disappears.
‘It’s beginning again, Ben. Gather your forces, inform your friends, keep safe for your mother.’
It’s whispered on the wind and written in the flashlight’s glow.
And Ben is back with Jesse and Claire, not dead and not dying.
He looks between them, wincing as Jesse reads his thoughts and Claire scowls at him like he purposely left them to fight alone.
He just hopes this doesn’t end in a zombie Apocalypse.
- Current Location:budapest