Fighter: Dean Winchester (REVAMPED VERSION)

αre yoυ тнere God? ιт'ѕ мe deαɴ wιɴcнeѕтer;pαrт ғoυr

"𝔄pocalypse?" Dean wore the same floored expression as his brother. "The apocalypse, apocalypse? The four horsemen, pestilence, five dollar-a-gallon-gas apocalypse?"

"That's the one," Bobby confirms. "The rise of the witnesses is a mile marker." He looks at Nadia; oddly, she wasn't surprised.

"Sorry," she noticed his stare. "I just feel like I've known this was coming or something. Like I've heard it before. Like someone told me."

"I don't think the apocalypse is something you'd just forget," scoffed Bobby.

"I was born into hunting. My parents practically read me lore before bed every night. Although my mother was more into biblical lore than my dad. Albeit, knowledge is knowledge, no?"

"Okay, so, what do we do now?" Sam reels the conversation back in.

Dean sputters, returning to his seat. "Road trip. Grand Canyon, Star Trek Experience." He claps, clicking his tongue. "Bunny Ranch."

"First things first," said Bobby. "How about we survive our friends out there?"

"Great. Any ideas aside from staying in this room until Judgment Day?"

"It's a spell," Bobby taps his pencil against the page. "To send the witnesses back to rest. Should work."

Sam chuckled nervously. "Should. Great."

"If I translate it correctly. I think I got everything we need here at the house."

"Any chance you got everything we need here in this room?" Dean asked, hopeful.

Nadia snickers, putting her dreadlocks into a ponytail. "You're cute." It was a sign of the apocalypse. Luck was the last thing he should expect. She looks at Bobby, "what do we need?"

He goes to one of the arsenals. "Spell's got to be cast over an open fire."

Sam chuckles, "the fireplace in the library."

"Bingo."

Dean held the bridge of his nose, uneasy. "That's just not as appealing as a, uh, ghost-proof panic room, you know?"

"No," Nadia shakes her head. "It isn't."

Options were few. And always, the fight was far from over. Sometimes to get the big fish, you had to start small. These witnesses were only a minor problem to a much bigger picture.

Diligently, they worked together to prepare, arming themselves with as many salt bullets as they could hold.

Nadia finishes loading Dean's shotgun. "Batman." She tosses it to him. Bobby gives him the spellbook, leaving himself with only a shotty.

They crowd together near the door.

"Cover each other," Bobby instructed. "And aim careful. Don't run out of ammo until I'm done, or they'll shred you."

They nod.

"Ready?"

Bobby pulls the latch and cautiously opens the door. Sam steps out first, with Nadia and Dean in tow. They aimed in every direction, ready to shoot at any moment.

Seemingly, the basement was clear until they approached the stairs. There was a ghost sitting on the steps. He was a young, heavy-set guy with curly hair; he had to be at least in his twenties when he was alive.

Dean was going to shoot until they recognized one another.

"Hey, Dean," he grins. "You remember me?"

Dean's mouth fell open; he got a flashback. "Ronald, huh?" he smiled. "With the laser eyes?"