Beautiful Wilting Flowers

The Floofernougat

Dean POV:

Ina and I race towards the lab like our lives depend on it. They kind of do.

My heart pounds, my veins throbbing beneath my skin. Legs carrying me as fast as they'll go, the wind guiding me as far as it'll push me. Throat burning, lungs heaving, breathing in ice and breathing out fire. The mini bombs whizz past me, and I swat a bomb away from Ina, barely dodging her.

"Thanks," She huffs, speeding up. I match her speed, and give her a look.

"Should we just book it harder?"

"A'right." She nods.

We run so fast we probably look like doofs, if I'm being honest right now. When we took off first, we probably looked somewhat majestic, but now we probably look like chipmunks that happened to be high. It's really not a great look.

We approach the building, and I usher Ina in, holding the heavy door open. A bullet shatters into my leg, and I feel myself doubling over. The agony of the torturous bullet overwhelms me; getting shot didn't seem so painful until the moment it happens. Before I fall to the ground, Ina grabs my arm and tugs me inside.

"C'mon Dean, we can't lose now," She pleads. "We're so close."

"I know," I groan, forcing myself to my full height. 

We stumble in, and a giant lobby awaits us. With marble floors, diamond chandeliers, and hard looking couches surrounded by walls of glass to the outside, where our friends fight for their lives.

I bleed across the expensive floors as I steal a lanyard from the woman at the front desk.

"I apologize for the commotion ma'am, but there's a fight outside, and if you could interfere... maybe call your security on it..." I offer, but the woman does nothing but shake her head.

"Sir, the only person I'll be calling is our janitor, and the ambulance." She gives me a sarcastic tone.

I groan, and Ina calls me over to an elevator at the other end of the room, and I hustle over, and get in with her as the doors close.

"Whew..." I wheeze. "So, my darling best friend for life, where the-"

"I know, where the heck have I been, I'm sorry!" She groans.

"Oh, I would have used much better word choice, and you know it," I scoff. "Ina, where have you been?! With Jason?! Are you kidding me!? That insane little-"

"Don't say it."

"Oh, I will."

"Don't you dare."

"I'm doing it."

"I will hate you for life."

"Too bad."

"Dean, I'm warning you-"

"That little floofernougat!!!" I scream, the word echoing and dying out in the hollow elevator. My veins pound with fury, and I hit the side of the wall.

"That is actually the worst word in your vocabulary Dean." Ina rolls her eyes so far back that they might fall out if I help the process along a touch. "And it isn't very big at all."

The elevator door clunks open, and we both shove out, my leg throbbing with pain. There's a long narrow hallway, and Ina grabs my arm, pulling me to peek inside all of the rooms, trying to find the laboratory.

"Um... Ina."

"Shut up Dean, I'm trying to find the lab." She growls.

"Don't you think it's the room that says 'Dr. Black's Serum Laboratory'?" I snicker.

Ina looks over to the room I'm pointing at with the big golden plaque, and turns beet red.

"Oh shut up," She smiles as I elbow her, counting this as a win.

We swing open the door, and the Turner couple turns to look at us in the middle of the shiny laboratory.

"You filthy little-" Mr. Turner turns and swings to grab Ina by the throat, but I slap his hand away before he gets to lay his fingers around her little neck.

The room has multiple island lab tables, with filing cabinets telling where the serums are in the storage rooms, and mellow lights light up the stale liquids in test tubes; clearly this lab hasn't been touched for years and years.

"You actually think you can win to us, kids?" Mrs. Turner asks. "Really? Is this your big plot? Come to try and destroy our chances single handedly? Did you think to call the police or something?" They laugh together, giving off a suspicious aura.

"Why did we not think of that?" Ina mutters.

"I have no clue, we are so stupid. My looks make up for my stupidity, but eh, yours? Not too much." I whisper back, and she backhands my chest with a exasperated look in her eyes.

The Turner's are holding large briefcases, packaging the files so that no one knows the serums went missing if there are no record of them, I'm assuming. They put the cases down carefully, and straighten up from their activity to deal with us.

"You old hags better get your acts together! Tricking teenage kids into war and telling them that their loved ones will die if we don't show up? What kind of insane sickos are you!?" I growl, thinking of my sweet sisters' faces. I love them too much to even imagine what I'd do without them. I couldn't live with myself knowing that they were tortured because of me. That's not what family means.

"Listen, kids, we won't fight you if you let us get away with this. Just quit the tough kids act and be on your way." Mr. Turner smiles one of those toothpaste commercial smiles.

"You know damn well it'll never happen. We won't let it happen. Or we die trying. " I cut off whatever they're about to say next, and scream at them. "Quit being those freaking pansy floofernougats you are and come fight us!" 

"Son, you're making a mistake here," Mr. Turner continues to grin.

"Don't call me that! You aren't my father! Gosh dammit, why do the villains always say son to the daddy issues kid of the bunch! Come on! Pick on someone who doesn't have the daddy issues for once! Grow up!" I storm forward at him. "Call me 'son' one more time and see what I'll do to you. Just see. You might not know it, but I could take you any day. You're an old man."

I get up in his face, but then, he pulls something out of his pocket, and metal touches the side of my head.

"Dean, this isn't funny this time, don't freaking move. Not an inch." I hear Ina say to me. 

But it sounds like a distant echo. It feels like my soul has left my body, and above the scene, in my spirit, I see myself. Why does my big mouth always lead me into these things?  My friends need me. My parents need me. My sisters need me. So why do I throw myself into these situations?

My soul and body come together once again, as Mr. Turners sharp voices lashes out and steers my conscious back.

"I don't give a damn. You know why? Because I'm the one with the gun. So you have to listen to me now. Got that, son?"

Crack!

My knuckles hurt after that heck of a punch.

But more importantly...

I think I just jinxed Ina and my chances of getting out of here alive.