Supernatural... But Better (Vol. I)

Chapter Thirty Five

"Look, I'm not sure I'm comfortable leaving you guys here alone."

Sam and Dean were already in the house, and were so self-assured that they hardly even said anything to me before they went. However, something I insisted upon was that all three of them took walkie-talkies with them — despite their protests — so that I could still remain informed, even from the outside.

Missouri guided Jenny and her kids outside of the house. "Just take your kids to the movies or something, and it'll be over by the time you get back."

The woman looked back at her home, looking unsure, but eventually got her kids into the car and left.

My gaze met Missouri's, then. "Be careful."

She gave me a smile. "Oh, honey, I'm always careful. But I don't think we'll be needing your help today," she informed me, responding to my thoughts. "So you stay here, and just wait a while."

Turning around, she walked back into the house, the door closing behind her.

Taking a deep breath to calm my nerves, I began pacing back and forth across the lawn. Even from that far away, I could still sense the poltergeist inside the house. Maybe, after all those years living alongside it, I was just more sensitive to its whims, but I almost knew what it was feeling. At that point, it was waiting, and my anxiety rose as I realized it was waiting for me.

After a little bit, though, it shifted. Instead of lying dormant in anticipation of me walking through the door, it turned its attention to the people already inside. Clearly, what they were doing was working, because the poltergeist was getting angry.

I put my walkie-talkie to my mouth. "It's getting angry. Watch out."

Dean's voice crackled through. "Annabeth, we're fine, you don't have to— woah!"

A loud thud echoed through the walkie, and I waited for him to say something else, but he didn't. "Dean? Are you there? Dean?" When no one responded, I tried again. "Can anyone hear me?"

I heard a faint scream then, coming directly from inside the house.

"Oh, it's got me pinned against a wall!" Missouri exclaimed.

"Yeah, it's throwing knives at me," Dean finally said. "I'm hiding behind a table, but it's not letting up."

I worried at my lip, staring at the house as if I could see everything happening inside. "What about you, Sam? Are you okay?"

There was just static.

"Sam!"

"Hold on, I'll get him," Dean grunted.

I waited anxiously for some sort of response, some sort of indication that Dean had found his brother and he was fine. The seconds passed, and I became more and more nervous with each one. I forced myself to calm down and not send a million messages through the walkie-talkie, because if they were fighting off a poltergeist, it'd only be a distraction. But I couldn't help but be anxious.

It had been way too long when a bright flash of light shone through the upstairs window, far too glaring to be natural. I had to shield my eyes from it, it was so intense.

Once it was gone, I realized what it might've meant. "Hello? Guys? What was that? Are you okay?" For a long moment, there was no response. "Hello?" I repeated, almost freaking out.

Static. Nobody said anything, not even Missouri.

"Please don't be dead, please don't be dead, please don't be dead," I muttered under my breath, getting more and more anxious with each passing moment that they didn't respond. I took a step towards the door, then another, fully prepared to rush into the house to save my friends.

"We're fine," came Dean's crackling voice, making me almost cry in relief.

"Oh, thank God," I breathed. "What happened?"

He grunted. "Hold on a second."

I did as he asked, waiting, just glad to know he and Sam were okay. The vast majority of the fear and stress I'd felt in the previous few minutes melted off, and I took a deep breath, calming down.

And then the front door opened, revealing Dean supporting a weak Sam.

I rushed up the front steps, taking care not to cross the threshold, but ready to help however I could. "Are you okay? What's wrong?"

He sighed. "I'm fine."

Shaking his head, Dean transferred his brother over to me, and I wrapped his arm over my shoulders, taking on his weight. "The poltergeist happened. Look, I gotta get to Missouri. The thing's weakened, we can probably take it from here, but he needs to take a breather, alright?" he explained, turning to go back inside the house.

I nodded. "Okay."

After he closed the door, I helped Sam sit down on the front steps. "What did it do?"

He sighed. "Tried to strangle me with a lamp cord." My eyes widened, and I started looking over his neck to try to see if he had any bruises, but he stopped me. "I'm fine."

I gave him a look. "If you get to bandage me up every time I get hurt, I get to make sure you're okay," I countered.

Hesitating, he relented, and I continued. Running my fingers over his skin, I looked for any sore spots, but there didn't seem to be any. Gently turning his head towards me, I checked the other side as well, but everything seemed fine.

Then, I noticed his gaze on my face, and I pulled back, looking up at him. "What?"

He breathed a laugh, shaking his head with a small smile. "Nothing. Am I good to go, doc?"

Nodding, I let my hands fall to my lap. "Yeah. Yeah." My gaze turned to the house, and I studied it, realizing something. "It's weak."

"Didn't seem that way when it was trying to kill me."

I shook my head. "No, of course not, but... it's the fact that it chose that method of doing so. It means that it's not as powerful as it once was. It can't— can't manipulate the same things. Knives, cords, they're small, light. Dangerous, but easily wielded. Which means it's either weak, or just toying with us, because if it was powerful enough, and it really wanted you dead—" I cut myself off, looking back at him. "Well, you'd be dead."

Sam gave me a reassuring smile, taking hold of my hand. "Well, that's a good thing, right?"

I shrugged, looking at the ground. "It could also be because it knows I'm right here, and it's saving its strength to kill me."

"That's... less good, but so long as you don't go inside, everything's fine, right?" he asked, seeking out my gaze. "So, nothing's going to happen to you."

Nodding, I tucked my hair behind my ears. "And nothing else is going to happen to you," I said, half-stating and half-hoping.

He smiled. "That's the plan."

We sat there for a few moments longer, quiet, as he fully caught his breath.

Then, he stood, looking down at me. "I better go help."

I nodded, looking down at my hands. "Be careful."

"Always am."