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dixiehellcatWorlds Collide, part 5/11
Authors: dixiehellcat and tetiny68
Pairing/Characters: Sam, Dean, Bobby; Gen. Other SPN characters mentioned: Cas, Baltie, and one I can't tell yet cuz it's a surprise. Guest starring Zak Bagans, Nick Groff and Aaron Goodwin of Ghost Adventures.
Rating: PG-13 for language
Words: about 2400 this part; total roughly 17,000. A little longer, but we couldn't find a good place to stop sooner. lol.
Summary: Zak discovers an interesting branch of his family tree, and the GAC take their first lessons as hunters.
As I mentioned earlier, this story is set spring 2011, during SPN hellatus s6, so spoilers abound for everything that Sam and Dean have ever done, basically. And spoilers for any and every ep of Ghost Adventures could lurk herein too.
We start with a bit of the last chappie to set you up.
"Let's see what you guys got," he said, wondering if the voice he'd heard had been captured. He couldn't remember Hell; it was behind a wall in his brain, put there by Death himself, to keep Sam sane. But it seemed Hell, or at least one denizen of it, remembered Sam.
That particular utterance, however, did not appear on the recording. Between the original growl and "OH FUCK", there was no useful audio. While the exorcism was progressing, though, the low buzz produced by the demon was clearly audible. Zak frowned and cocked his head. "That almost sounds like a speeded-up tape. Slow that down, Aaron, let's see if we can make anything out."
Aaron played with the settings. The figures on the viewfinder screen moved as though through swamp mud, and the sounds of Sam and Dean's chanting slowed to distorted moans; but the sharp tones from the demon suddenly became words. "Yes! Sounds like 'more. More…of them?'" Aaron said, intently listening.
Nick nodded. "Sounds like it. If it's the same entity that has been here on our earlier trips, it might remember the three of us. Didn't expect us to bring reinforcements."
The playback continued. "Three!" Zak exclaimed. "You guys hear that? It was definitely the number 'three'. That'd be us, not counting Sam or Dean. And the next word…oh yay, more stuff Travel's gotta bleep. Good for our bad-boy images, though, heh. Three, fuckin', and that last part…play that again, Aaron." He scowled. "One long word, I think. Any ideas?" Nick and Aaron both shook their heads, but Sam and Dean looked at each other with wordless shock; the word was crystal clear to them both. The look did not go unnoticed. "You got something?" Zak asked. "Sam? Dean? Can you understand it?"
"Uh, yeah," Sam said after a long silence. "It's our last name. Winchester. Plural, to be exact. Winchesters."
"So demons know you guys by name?" Aaron's tone was decidedly apprehensive.
"We've been around the block with them a few times," Dean understated. Sam did not add that the demon had probably recognized him first.
"But that still doesn't make any sense," Nick objected. "Unless it's not connected with the previous utterances."
"I think it is connected." With a deep breath, Dean turned to Zak. "The guy I remind you of—I think it's our dad. In his journal, he refers to your family's name, your home town, and a haunting he cleared out of a young boy's bedroom in 1984; even the cover story he told them to avoid frightening them."
Zak's eyes widened, then narrowed. "Yeah," he said slowly. "I remember. It was summer. Mom called him uncle…John?" Dean nodded. "And you guys were there, and we took you to the beach. Mom said I had to be extra nice to you because—your mom had died." Unexpected sympathy shone in his gaze. "What happened to her?"
Dean didn't know how to answer. It was Sam who replied softly, "She was a hunter too. She retired to raise her family, but an old enemy came after her. Dad kind of went on the lam with us, hunting it, and other stuff along the way." It wasn't a lie. Dean was immeasurably grateful for the simple way Sam had boiled it all down.
"You were just a baby, man." Zak's gentle tone suddenly brightened. "There was this little glass case at the museum," he said to Dean, "full of dead stuffed wolverines or something, and you and I kept arguing over whether Sam would fit in there or not. You remember that?"
A startled laugh burst from Dean. "Yeah. Oh damn, yeah, I do!" What an unexpectedly good feeling, to find someone with whom he shared good memories of childhood, even if only a few of them.
The two men grinned at each other. "But," Zak said finally, "that still doesn't explain the EVP."
"Yeah, it does. They were cousins, your mom and our dad."
Dean could almost see the light go on in Zak's head. "You think, if the demon recognized you, it also recognized something in me that told it that—"
"You're related to us," Sam finished with a nod.
"Hence, any demon's worst nightmare." Dean spread his arms wide. "Not just two, but 'three fuckin' Winchesters'. And you may not be trained to fight 'em, but you know they're there, which is just about as bad from their point of view."
Zak sat quiet, processing. "Yeah," he said after a moment, a small wondering smile dancing across his features. "Seven years ago I saw my first ghost. At least I thought it was my first. Now you tell me there may be ghosts in my childhood, that I don't consciously recall. And not only that, I'm related by blood to families of ghost hunters. So this sense I've had for seven years, of being drawn into this work—maybe this answers the questions I've had about 'why me'. Maybe it really is my destiny."
"May be," Sam agreed. Setting aside his own concerns, he found himself surprisingly pleased at their newfound cousin's acceptance of the situation. Good thing Michael didn't know about him. Maybe a cousin wouldn't have been close enough bloodwise to host him.
"Yep." Dean got up from his seat on the floor. "So grab your buddies, grasshopper, and we'll teach you some more ghost-fu."
+++
In the hours that followed, the Goldfield Hotel became a sort of mini-boot camp. Despite not boasting what Nick jokingly called Zak's lofty lineage of ghostbusting, both Nick and Aaron remained as keen to learn as ever. The Winchesters knew they could not teach the Ghost Adventurers to be hunters in one night; neither group wanted or expected that. But all three reported spirits who had apparently attached to them and followed them home after investigations; Aaron even blamed them for the breakup of his marriage. If Zak and his friends intended to continue in their work, Sam and Dean were damned determined to give them a tool kit, information they would need to protect themselves and help those around them, not the new-agey mumbo-jumbo that was stock in trade for most self-proclaimed ghostbusters. "Burning sage smells nice, especially in Nevada, I guess," Dean pronounced, "but for all but the weakest spirits, it's just a nice smell."
Sam admired the eagerness with which their students attended. He kept expecting Nick to whip out a pad and pen and start taking notes. Aaron filmed every glyph Sam drew, his attention rapt, thrilled to finally have some tangible defense against the things he feared. And Zak asked more questions than a two-year-old, absorbing every detail.
After some work, the group left their safe room to trek to two other areas of reported ghost activity. Both were low-energy spirits, pieces really of the people they had once been, and easily dispatched with a little salt, iron and fire. After the second, Zak said with deceptive casualness, "We could do that."
"You think?" Fighting back a smile, Sam turned to Dean. "What do you say, scoutmaster? Our troop ready to build their first campfire?"
Dean cut his eyes. "Don't call me scoutmaster. Those fuckin' uniforms give me the creeps."
"No worse than your PE teacher shorts," Sam replied with an evil grin.
The Ghost Adventurers exchanged looks. Aaron shook his head. "When you two start that, I've come to the conclusion that I'm better off just not knowing."
"You are, believe me," Dean said. "Okay, where's the next spirit nexus? If it's as vanilla as these two, we'll set it up and talk you guys through."
"Yes!" Zak and Nick high fived, then led the way to a room on the fourth floor.
Sam hesitated, however, when they proudly announced it was the reputed home of the ghost of a man who had killed himself after being caught here with his mistress; his reputation and business career ruined, he had leaped out the window. "This may not be the best situation for you guys to take on," he said. "Ghosts that died in the grip of strong passions can be very dangerous without intending to. Like a criminal versus a lunatic--one means to do you harm and the other may not, but you can end up hurt just as badly by either."
"We've seen how you and Dean work," Nick countered. "If we do the same things in the same sequence, it should work no matter what the ghost's mental state, right?"
"If we could contact the ghost first," Zak suggested, "try to explain things and keep them calm, maybe we could persuade them to cross over. We've got to try!"
Dean shook his head. "In my experience, ghosts usually don't have much worthwhile to say. Best to just confirm the presence, find the material link, and salt and burn."
"Don't you even want to know what they have to say?" Zak demanded, the focus of his ire shifting to the other Winchester brother.
"Not usually, no, I'm too busy keeping my ass alive!" Dean retorted.
Sam let out a sigh as the debate heated up. "Be thankful there are two of you to manage Zak," he told Nick and Aaron. "With Dean, it's all on me." He put on his best pathetic look, the one Dean called his sad puppy face, and the other two chuckled. "Screw that, let's get to work. First step, students?"
"Confirm evidence of paranormal activity," Nick said promptly, holding up his EMF meter.
Sam watched as Nick swept the room with his sleek gadget. "You guys get the best toys," he said with envy. "Our last EMF meter was one Dean built out of an old Walkman."
"Seriously?" Aaron said. "Whoa, dude. Now that's impressive. You still got it? 'Cause if so, I gotta see that."
After a few moments more of scanning Nick said, "Got something here." Dean and Zak rejoined the group, their differences settled or at least set aside, to check the readings. "Not very high, but the energies could be dormant, waiting for a trigger to rouse them."
"Then let's rouse it," Zak said. "Hey, Prince Charming! Wake up, come talk to us. How much trouble did you think you were gonna get into, getting caught here with—"
Dean slapped his hand over Zak's mouth. Without missing a beat, he said calmly, "Let's spread out now, and look for the trigger. Since he went out the window, it's not gonna be remains as such. More likely a personal item, or something with DNA traces. Anybody squeamish? BYO rubber gloves."
The men scattered. Zak stepped away from Dean's hand and made a Snoopy-like bleh noise before joining the search. For some time, the room was quiet, except for exchanges like this:
"Dude, what is this?"
"I dunno, but it smells like ass."
"That could be a clue."
Among a pile of trash in the corners, Sam spied a bit of old cloth. He fished out the tattered piece of sheer fabric. "What the…"
Aaron's camera lens poked over his shoulder. "Hee hee. Panties!"
Nick aimed the EMF meter at it and it obligingly bleeped. "Aaaand I'm getting a hit on it. But the ghost is a male…omigod, you don't think—he kept those, and…jerked off?"
"Ew." Sam stared in horrified fascination at the cloth, or to be more precise, at the stains on it. "EW!"
"Knock it off, ya big wuss," Zak yelled from across the room. "How long you been out of the monastery again?"
Dean cackled. "Good one. Just about the time I decide you're a total douche, you surprise me."
"I'm full of surprises, cuz. So we got an EMF link, so that's our relic."
"That means we get to torch it now, huh?" Aaron looked excited.
"Salt and burn, fellas, salt and burn, get your priorities straight," Dean corrected him.
Nick went to open a window and allow any smoke to escape. Sam was digging an old brass bowl out of his duffel to hold the flames when the EMF meter sitting on the floor began to shrill. A gust of wind blew across his face, and he heard a strangled yelp. Looking up, he saw Nick hanging half out the open window, his arms frantically flailing for purchase on the sill.
"Damn!!" Zak sprinted across the room and leaned out to grab his friend. "Guys, help me!"
Sam and Dean rushed over, joined an instant later by Aaron sans camera, and together they hauled Nick and Zak, who was by now precariously balanced himself, back in. They all sprawled on the floor in a heap. "What the fuck just happened?" Aaron said when he regained his breath. "I felt something—Nick, did it push you out?"
"I…don't think so." Nick pushed himself up to sit. "It didn't hit me like that. It was more like, you know when you're in a crowd and somebody in a hurry tries to push past you? More like that, like I was just in the way."
"As the ghost reenacted his death," Sam said wisely. "Thereby proving my earlier point. It didn't mean to hurt you, may not even be conscious enough to know we're here, but you'd still have been just as dead. Let's get this spirit out of here."
As the group began to get up, Nick looked sharply at Zak. "You came out the window after me."
"Uh, yeah, bro. Besides the fact that you're my friend, you definitely wouldn't do us any good if your brains were scrambled eggs on the pavement."
"Did it occur to you the pavement's forty feet down?" Zak blinked and stared at him; clearly, in the heat of the moment, their distance off the ground had never entered his mind. Nick laughed. "Heights," he explained to answer Sam and Dean's twin frowns of puzzlement. "Zak hates heights. You wanna make him a blabbering idiot, put him on top of a tall building."
"With a clown," Aaron added, resetting his camera and putting in a fresh memory card.
"And a snake!" Nick finished.
"Dude!" Aaron hefted his gear with a gleefully sadistic grin. "We should totally set that up sometime and film it. Talk about true entertainment. That'd beat the clown motel any day."
Zak glared from one to the other as though trying to decide which one to punch out first. Sam just laughed gently. "I feel you on the clown thing, man. Those bastards give me the creeps too." He brushed dust off his jeans and offered Zak a hand up.
Zak walked over to the window, peered out into the night and downward, then quickly backed away with a barely suppressed shudder. When he turned around, though, his jaw was set. "Let's do this."
Notes on a couple of points for non-SPN watchers:
Sam's thoughts about 'Michael' refers to an archangel he & Dean encountered who needed a human host...turned out the Winchester bloodline was uniquely suited for that purpose. It's the same 'pissy archangel' he thought about earlier, who ended up taking their half-brother's body. Being kin to them through their father's side, Zak might conceivably have also been an option, but Sam's thinking maybe the relation wasn't direct enough.
And speaking of Zak, yay, he gets to be the hero in this chapter! :-) Oh, and the part where Zak talks about wondering why he had the experience that led him into ghost hunting, and feeling maybe it was his destiny...we'd already written that part when I found an interview where he said EXACTLY that. (shivers)
Authors: dixiehellcat and tetiny68
Pairing/Characters: Sam, Dean, Bobby; Gen. Other SPN characters mentioned: Cas, Baltie, and one I can't tell yet cuz it's a surprise. Guest starring Zak Bagans, Nick Groff and Aaron Goodwin of Ghost Adventures.
Rating: PG-13 for language
Words: about 2400 this part; total roughly 17,000. A little longer, but we couldn't find a good place to stop sooner. lol.
Summary: Zak discovers an interesting branch of his family tree, and the GAC take their first lessons as hunters.
As I mentioned earlier, this story is set spring 2011, during SPN hellatus s6, so spoilers abound for everything that Sam and Dean have ever done, basically. And spoilers for any and every ep of Ghost Adventures could lurk herein too.
We start with a bit of the last chappie to set you up.
"Let's see what you guys got," he said, wondering if the voice he'd heard had been captured. He couldn't remember Hell; it was behind a wall in his brain, put there by Death himself, to keep Sam sane. But it seemed Hell, or at least one denizen of it, remembered Sam.
That particular utterance, however, did not appear on the recording. Between the original growl and "OH FUCK", there was no useful audio. While the exorcism was progressing, though, the low buzz produced by the demon was clearly audible. Zak frowned and cocked his head. "That almost sounds like a speeded-up tape. Slow that down, Aaron, let's see if we can make anything out."
Aaron played with the settings. The figures on the viewfinder screen moved as though through swamp mud, and the sounds of Sam and Dean's chanting slowed to distorted moans; but the sharp tones from the demon suddenly became words. "Yes! Sounds like 'more. More…of them?'" Aaron said, intently listening.
Nick nodded. "Sounds like it. If it's the same entity that has been here on our earlier trips, it might remember the three of us. Didn't expect us to bring reinforcements."
The playback continued. "Three!" Zak exclaimed. "You guys hear that? It was definitely the number 'three'. That'd be us, not counting Sam or Dean. And the next word…oh yay, more stuff Travel's gotta bleep. Good for our bad-boy images, though, heh. Three, fuckin', and that last part…play that again, Aaron." He scowled. "One long word, I think. Any ideas?" Nick and Aaron both shook their heads, but Sam and Dean looked at each other with wordless shock; the word was crystal clear to them both. The look did not go unnoticed. "You got something?" Zak asked. "Sam? Dean? Can you understand it?"
"Uh, yeah," Sam said after a long silence. "It's our last name. Winchester. Plural, to be exact. Winchesters."
"So demons know you guys by name?" Aaron's tone was decidedly apprehensive.
"We've been around the block with them a few times," Dean understated. Sam did not add that the demon had probably recognized him first.
"But that still doesn't make any sense," Nick objected. "Unless it's not connected with the previous utterances."
"I think it is connected." With a deep breath, Dean turned to Zak. "The guy I remind you of—I think it's our dad. In his journal, he refers to your family's name, your home town, and a haunting he cleared out of a young boy's bedroom in 1984; even the cover story he told them to avoid frightening them."
Zak's eyes widened, then narrowed. "Yeah," he said slowly. "I remember. It was summer. Mom called him uncle…John?" Dean nodded. "And you guys were there, and we took you to the beach. Mom said I had to be extra nice to you because—your mom had died." Unexpected sympathy shone in his gaze. "What happened to her?"
Dean didn't know how to answer. It was Sam who replied softly, "She was a hunter too. She retired to raise her family, but an old enemy came after her. Dad kind of went on the lam with us, hunting it, and other stuff along the way." It wasn't a lie. Dean was immeasurably grateful for the simple way Sam had boiled it all down.
"You were just a baby, man." Zak's gentle tone suddenly brightened. "There was this little glass case at the museum," he said to Dean, "full of dead stuffed wolverines or something, and you and I kept arguing over whether Sam would fit in there or not. You remember that?"
A startled laugh burst from Dean. "Yeah. Oh damn, yeah, I do!" What an unexpectedly good feeling, to find someone with whom he shared good memories of childhood, even if only a few of them.
The two men grinned at each other. "But," Zak said finally, "that still doesn't explain the EVP."
"Yeah, it does. They were cousins, your mom and our dad."
Dean could almost see the light go on in Zak's head. "You think, if the demon recognized you, it also recognized something in me that told it that—"
"You're related to us," Sam finished with a nod.
"Hence, any demon's worst nightmare." Dean spread his arms wide. "Not just two, but 'three fuckin' Winchesters'. And you may not be trained to fight 'em, but you know they're there, which is just about as bad from their point of view."
Zak sat quiet, processing. "Yeah," he said after a moment, a small wondering smile dancing across his features. "Seven years ago I saw my first ghost. At least I thought it was my first. Now you tell me there may be ghosts in my childhood, that I don't consciously recall. And not only that, I'm related by blood to families of ghost hunters. So this sense I've had for seven years, of being drawn into this work—maybe this answers the questions I've had about 'why me'. Maybe it really is my destiny."
"May be," Sam agreed. Setting aside his own concerns, he found himself surprisingly pleased at their newfound cousin's acceptance of the situation. Good thing Michael didn't know about him. Maybe a cousin wouldn't have been close enough bloodwise to host him.
"Yep." Dean got up from his seat on the floor. "So grab your buddies, grasshopper, and we'll teach you some more ghost-fu."
+++
In the hours that followed, the Goldfield Hotel became a sort of mini-boot camp. Despite not boasting what Nick jokingly called Zak's lofty lineage of ghostbusting, both Nick and Aaron remained as keen to learn as ever. The Winchesters knew they could not teach the Ghost Adventurers to be hunters in one night; neither group wanted or expected that. But all three reported spirits who had apparently attached to them and followed them home after investigations; Aaron even blamed them for the breakup of his marriage. If Zak and his friends intended to continue in their work, Sam and Dean were damned determined to give them a tool kit, information they would need to protect themselves and help those around them, not the new-agey mumbo-jumbo that was stock in trade for most self-proclaimed ghostbusters. "Burning sage smells nice, especially in Nevada, I guess," Dean pronounced, "but for all but the weakest spirits, it's just a nice smell."
Sam admired the eagerness with which their students attended. He kept expecting Nick to whip out a pad and pen and start taking notes. Aaron filmed every glyph Sam drew, his attention rapt, thrilled to finally have some tangible defense against the things he feared. And Zak asked more questions than a two-year-old, absorbing every detail.
After some work, the group left their safe room to trek to two other areas of reported ghost activity. Both were low-energy spirits, pieces really of the people they had once been, and easily dispatched with a little salt, iron and fire. After the second, Zak said with deceptive casualness, "We could do that."
"You think?" Fighting back a smile, Sam turned to Dean. "What do you say, scoutmaster? Our troop ready to build their first campfire?"
Dean cut his eyes. "Don't call me scoutmaster. Those fuckin' uniforms give me the creeps."
"No worse than your PE teacher shorts," Sam replied with an evil grin.
The Ghost Adventurers exchanged looks. Aaron shook his head. "When you two start that, I've come to the conclusion that I'm better off just not knowing."
"You are, believe me," Dean said. "Okay, where's the next spirit nexus? If it's as vanilla as these two, we'll set it up and talk you guys through."
"Yes!" Zak and Nick high fived, then led the way to a room on the fourth floor.
Sam hesitated, however, when they proudly announced it was the reputed home of the ghost of a man who had killed himself after being caught here with his mistress; his reputation and business career ruined, he had leaped out the window. "This may not be the best situation for you guys to take on," he said. "Ghosts that died in the grip of strong passions can be very dangerous without intending to. Like a criminal versus a lunatic--one means to do you harm and the other may not, but you can end up hurt just as badly by either."
"We've seen how you and Dean work," Nick countered. "If we do the same things in the same sequence, it should work no matter what the ghost's mental state, right?"
"If we could contact the ghost first," Zak suggested, "try to explain things and keep them calm, maybe we could persuade them to cross over. We've got to try!"
Dean shook his head. "In my experience, ghosts usually don't have much worthwhile to say. Best to just confirm the presence, find the material link, and salt and burn."
"Don't you even want to know what they have to say?" Zak demanded, the focus of his ire shifting to the other Winchester brother.
"Not usually, no, I'm too busy keeping my ass alive!" Dean retorted.
Sam let out a sigh as the debate heated up. "Be thankful there are two of you to manage Zak," he told Nick and Aaron. "With Dean, it's all on me." He put on his best pathetic look, the one Dean called his sad puppy face, and the other two chuckled. "Screw that, let's get to work. First step, students?"
"Confirm evidence of paranormal activity," Nick said promptly, holding up his EMF meter.
Sam watched as Nick swept the room with his sleek gadget. "You guys get the best toys," he said with envy. "Our last EMF meter was one Dean built out of an old Walkman."
"Seriously?" Aaron said. "Whoa, dude. Now that's impressive. You still got it? 'Cause if so, I gotta see that."
After a few moments more of scanning Nick said, "Got something here." Dean and Zak rejoined the group, their differences settled or at least set aside, to check the readings. "Not very high, but the energies could be dormant, waiting for a trigger to rouse them."
"Then let's rouse it," Zak said. "Hey, Prince Charming! Wake up, come talk to us. How much trouble did you think you were gonna get into, getting caught here with—"
Dean slapped his hand over Zak's mouth. Without missing a beat, he said calmly, "Let's spread out now, and look for the trigger. Since he went out the window, it's not gonna be remains as such. More likely a personal item, or something with DNA traces. Anybody squeamish? BYO rubber gloves."
The men scattered. Zak stepped away from Dean's hand and made a Snoopy-like bleh noise before joining the search. For some time, the room was quiet, except for exchanges like this:
"Dude, what is this?"
"I dunno, but it smells like ass."
"That could be a clue."
Among a pile of trash in the corners, Sam spied a bit of old cloth. He fished out the tattered piece of sheer fabric. "What the…"
Aaron's camera lens poked over his shoulder. "Hee hee. Panties!"
Nick aimed the EMF meter at it and it obligingly bleeped. "Aaaand I'm getting a hit on it. But the ghost is a male…omigod, you don't think—he kept those, and…jerked off?"
"Ew." Sam stared in horrified fascination at the cloth, or to be more precise, at the stains on it. "EW!"
"Knock it off, ya big wuss," Zak yelled from across the room. "How long you been out of the monastery again?"
Dean cackled. "Good one. Just about the time I decide you're a total douche, you surprise me."
"I'm full of surprises, cuz. So we got an EMF link, so that's our relic."
"That means we get to torch it now, huh?" Aaron looked excited.
"Salt and burn, fellas, salt and burn, get your priorities straight," Dean corrected him.
Nick went to open a window and allow any smoke to escape. Sam was digging an old brass bowl out of his duffel to hold the flames when the EMF meter sitting on the floor began to shrill. A gust of wind blew across his face, and he heard a strangled yelp. Looking up, he saw Nick hanging half out the open window, his arms frantically flailing for purchase on the sill.
"Damn!!" Zak sprinted across the room and leaned out to grab his friend. "Guys, help me!"
Sam and Dean rushed over, joined an instant later by Aaron sans camera, and together they hauled Nick and Zak, who was by now precariously balanced himself, back in. They all sprawled on the floor in a heap. "What the fuck just happened?" Aaron said when he regained his breath. "I felt something—Nick, did it push you out?"
"I…don't think so." Nick pushed himself up to sit. "It didn't hit me like that. It was more like, you know when you're in a crowd and somebody in a hurry tries to push past you? More like that, like I was just in the way."
"As the ghost reenacted his death," Sam said wisely. "Thereby proving my earlier point. It didn't mean to hurt you, may not even be conscious enough to know we're here, but you'd still have been just as dead. Let's get this spirit out of here."
As the group began to get up, Nick looked sharply at Zak. "You came out the window after me."
"Uh, yeah, bro. Besides the fact that you're my friend, you definitely wouldn't do us any good if your brains were scrambled eggs on the pavement."
"Did it occur to you the pavement's forty feet down?" Zak blinked and stared at him; clearly, in the heat of the moment, their distance off the ground had never entered his mind. Nick laughed. "Heights," he explained to answer Sam and Dean's twin frowns of puzzlement. "Zak hates heights. You wanna make him a blabbering idiot, put him on top of a tall building."
"With a clown," Aaron added, resetting his camera and putting in a fresh memory card.
"And a snake!" Nick finished.
"Dude!" Aaron hefted his gear with a gleefully sadistic grin. "We should totally set that up sometime and film it. Talk about true entertainment. That'd beat the clown motel any day."
Zak glared from one to the other as though trying to decide which one to punch out first. Sam just laughed gently. "I feel you on the clown thing, man. Those bastards give me the creeps too." He brushed dust off his jeans and offered Zak a hand up.
Zak walked over to the window, peered out into the night and downward, then quickly backed away with a barely suppressed shudder. When he turned around, though, his jaw was set. "Let's do this."
Notes on a couple of points for non-SPN watchers:
Sam's thoughts about 'Michael' refers to an archangel he & Dean encountered who needed a human host...turned out the Winchester bloodline was uniquely suited for that purpose. It's the same 'pissy archangel' he thought about earlier, who ended up taking their half-brother's body. Being kin to them through their father's side, Zak might conceivably have also been an option, but Sam's thinking maybe the relation wasn't direct enough.
And speaking of Zak, yay, he gets to be the hero in this chapter! :-) Oh, and the part where Zak talks about wondering why he had the experience that led him into ghost hunting, and feeling maybe it was his destiny...we'd already written that part when I found an interview where he said EXACTLY that. (shivers)
