Guns and Wings ~ Supernatural/Maximum Ride ~

EIGHT

Chapter Eight:

Kya sat quietly while Sam talked to Kevin. "Yeah... No, that...—Okay."  Kya glanced at Dean, who was having a staring contest with the dog, and shivered. "All right. Thanks," Sam says, then hung up the phone.

"So, apparently the Inuit spell comes with some side effects," Sam announced, and Dean rolled his eyes sourly.

"Oh, well, that would have been nice to know before I downed it!" Dean snapped, "What kind of side effects?"

"When you mind meld with an animal, it's... possible to start exhibiting some of its behavior," Sam explained. Dean looked at the Eraser, who had been yawning tiredly.

"Don't look at me, Hoss. It ain't my fault."

"Well, how long am I gonna have the urge to..." Dean trailed off, looking uncomfortable.

"Sniff butts?" The dog finished with a loud barking laugh. Kya flinched, involuntarily backing away from him.

"Oh, whoa. Hey. I don't have the urge to sniff butts," Dean said defensively, trying to regain at least a little of his dignity.

"Yet," The dog finished, and Dean shot him a glare.

Sam looked from the two of them, with a mixture of confusion and disgust. "Do... You really ha–have the—"

"No!" Dean snapped, "Come on!"

"Well, Kevin doesn't know how long it'll last," Sam said, thankfully changing the subject. "It's not like it's an exact science, you know? But hopefully, when the spell wears off, so will the side effects."

Dean nodded, picking up a chocolate bar from off the table and taking a bite. "I wouldn't eat that if I were you," The dog noted, and Dean froze, slowly turning to look down at him. "Chocolate? Seriously." Dean let the chocolate fall out of his mouth and unto the ground.

0/0/0/0

Dean and Sam and the Colonel were on their way back from the shelter when Dean's phone buzzed in his pocket. With a single hand on the wheel of his car, he pulled it out. The emergency phone he gave Kya was calling. He answered it, bringing the phone to his ear, "Hey kiddo, what's up?"

"Wi–Wi–Window. G–Glass, a–and g–guns," was Kya's stuttering reply. She was breathing heavily, obviously trying to calm herself down, but it wasn't working. "I–I do–do–do not k–know, b–but—"

"We're coming kiddo," Dean said firmly, hoping to calm her down. If she was in danger, panicking wouldn't help anyone. Sam looked his way, noticing that something was wrong, but he didn't say anything. "You remember what we said if something happened?"

"Y–Yes, I—" there was a crash, as if something has fallen down, and a bit of muffled, gruff talking, before silence. Then, a few loud popping of guns. Dean tensed, his hand gripping the steering wheel, his knuckles white.

"Kya? Kya! Tell me what's going on!" A dial tone signaled that the call was dropped. Dean swore under his breath, dropping his phone and hurried down the road.

"What's going on?" Sam asked.

"Kya. She's in trouble," Dean replied, speeding far above the limit to get back to the hotel.

0/0/0/0

By the time Dean and Sam arrived back at the motel, they could tell they were far too late. The room they were in was missing it's door, and had been separated with yellow police tape. The two exchanged looks, before turning the Impala around and heading back down the street.