What the Hell? (Book 4 Arrow/SPN Crossover)

Best Laid Plans and Stuff

They came within thirty feet of Dig's car when Captain Lance's voice rang out, “Stop right there you two!”

“Perfect, just perfect,” Dean growled as he turned around. “Yeah?”

Lance stormed up to them, “There's salt all over the place. What were you shooting at? Flies? Large bugs?”

“Captain, it's complicated,” Sam replied.

“No, what's complicated is my SWAT guys saying they saw lamps flying around for no reason and the windows icing up. How do we know it's safe in there?”

We don't have time for this. “If the lights flicker, sparks start flying or it feels like the AC is on Arctic setting, it's time to leave,” Dean instructed in a much harsher tone than what was called for.

“Listen Dean,” Lance snarled, “If that's even your name, I've got traumatized people that need to know they are safe now. If we don't bring someone out of that building in cuffs they are going to think there's still a threat.”

 Lance was on the ground, face swollen and bruised. He held Lance's gun, barrel pointing directly between the Captain's eyes.

Sam's hand squeezed his shoulder so hard it interrupted the vision. He came back to himself halfway through Sam's explanation

“... say it's some sort of environmental hazard that made people hallucinate.”

“They're not going to buy that!”

“Look,” Sam replied, “I understand the position you're in but the longer we sit here and argue the more time the person that's doing this has to get as far away from here as possible. The building is safe, call in some Hazmat people or something. Lie. You work with the Arrow, I'm sure you've done that before.”

Lance's eyes narrowed at Sam's statement but he took a deep breath. “You have a point. Get out of here. Tell him to keep me in the loop.”

“We will, thank you.”

Lance shook his head and strode off, shouting orders to his men.

Dean started to walk away but Sam's didn't let go of his shoulder. “Uh, kind of hard to walk when you're Vader gripping my shoulder Sam.” Sam's brittle, simmering eyes nailed him to the ground much more effectively than the death grip Sam had on his shoulder.

“Where'd you go? You weren't here anymore and wherever you were, you were about two seconds from taking out Lance.”

“Not now and taking a swing at me won't help anyone.”

“You're not safe, Dean.”

“I'm fine.”

Sam dropped his hand but the tension didn't leave his face, “Next time we're alone, we're talking. End of story.” He pushed past Dean and walked away.

I'm past help but he'll never see that.

They made it back to Dig's car, “So?” Dig asked.

“She's nothing we've ever come across before,” Sam answered. “And that says a lot.”

“Meta human then.”

“Meta what?” Dean asked.

“It's what the Central City crew are calling the people affected by the Dark Matter.”

Dean craned his head around to look at Sam, “Remember what I said? Not undead, not a monster, not a demon?”

“She's summoning spirits Dean,” Sam retorted. “It's our job.”