The 4th Winchester - Book 2 (Supernatural Fan-Fic)

03. Meet the Robertson's

‘You came out expecting to salt and burn a spirit’s bones yet you forgot lighter fluid? Katia what kind of people are you working with?’ Dean asked rudely. Fletcher looked like he was going to object to that statement but what exactly could he have said? ‘There’s some in the Impala; I’ll go fetch it. You need anything else: salt, a lighter...your brains?’ he continued teasingly as he made his way up the cellar stairs.

‘Is that where you get your attitude from?’ Fletcher asked the second Dean had exited the cellar. I smirked at the resemblance between me and my older brother.

Instead of answering Fletcher’s mocking question I just pulled the tub of salt from my bag before sprinkling it over the bones which made me cringe to look at. After spending two years in Purgatory I’d actually gotten better at dealing with gruesome, gory things and I was able to participate in much more hunts without wanting to projectile vomit whenever I saw the slightest splat of blood.

‘At least I remembered to bring everything I was asked to,’ I muttered back to the bearded twin; Fletcher sent a glare my way and I just smirked.

                Dean had taken a few seconds to long. Maybe a minute after I’d thrown salt over the bones, the spirit had decided to come back to life and I’d been taken as its first victim. Currently the spirit was stood with it hand somewhere in my chest; it felt as though its fingers were wrapped around my heart and squeezing tightly.

‘Shoot it!’ I cried from where I was being pinned to a back wall. Both Sam and Curtis had been flung across the room, Fletcher seemed to be in a bit of a pickle with the shotgun he was holding and it irritated me to an extreme; I was seconds away from being killed and Fletcher was taking his time to sort out a shotgun.

Whilst the chaos was taking place, Dean came running back into the cellar with a bottle of lighter fluid in one hand and a lighter in the other. I was too busy focusing on Dean to notice that Fletcher had sorted, and fired the shotgun.

The loud roar echoed throughout the entire cellar; the loud noise was followed by an excruciating pain which only I could feel, and it wasn’t from the spirit. Apparently Fletcher’s aim had been a slight bit off; the bullet had clipped the spirit but a majority of the impact from the rock salt had gone into hitting my left wrist, the same wrist I sprained just yesterday.

‘Katia, you okay?’ Sam questioned from where he was still pulling himself up from the floor.

I nodded whilst cradling my injured wrist with my right hand. ‘I’m fine, just burn those god damned bones,’ I yelled as I struggled to breathe through the overwhelming pain coming from my arm. Dean was already pouring a large volume of lighter fluid into the make-shift grave; in his opposite hand he had a lighter ready.

The spirit reappeared in front of Curtis- who was clutching his shoulder which had hit the wall when he’d been thrown- for just a second before she got engulfed in a large flame.

‘I think my wrist is broken,’ I mumbled just like I’d done previously when I’d first sprained it.

Curtis looked up at me, ‘the spirit didn’t even touch your wrist.’

‘Yeah, well your brother’s lousy shot sure did,’ I spat, still trying to breathe through the pain.

‘I think you’ll find that I saved your ass back then,’ Fletcher objected whilst flicking the safety back onto his shotgun. ‘If it wasn’t for me, your chest would be splattered across this entire cellar.’

‘Maybe that would’ve been less painful,’ I muttered under my breath, too quiet for anyone other than Dean- who was stood right beside me- to hear; Dean chuckled softly at my little comment causing Fletcher to look over to me as if I’d betrayed him or something.