Fic: The Walking Supernatural: A SPN/ Walking Dead Crossover (4/?)
Title: The Walking Supernatural (4/?)
Author: daksgirl
Rating: NC-17
Genre: Zombies! Crossover fic of Supernatural meets the Walking Dead.
Spoilers: None this chapter
Warnings: Violence, Decomposing corpses, Strong language, Adult situations
Word Count: 4,501 this chapter (WIP)
Summary: AU from 5x22 Swan Song. Dean and Sam manage to stumble their way into yet more trouble, but might just have found a new ally.
A/N Argh this thing is taking on a life of its own. Don't worry; Cas will be making an appearance next chapter! I wasn't planning on finishing this today but…meh screw it. Who needs sleep anyways?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The kid had been yammering non-stop since they had started the long trek down the dirt road.
After a tense night, the brothers had packed up everything they could salvage from the farmhouse and hit the road. The girl seemed to have recovered from her ordeal in the woods, warming to the two men as they all walked side by side down the path.
It promised to be another glorious day, and Dean titled his head to the sun, relishing the warmth as Sophia chatted beside him.
"-so then I told him that couldn't possibly be true, but Carl was all like noooo, and I said yes it is. And then Mrs. Grimes said something about the grand canyon which I've never been to, and about how they're going to go back there one day so I asked mom if we could go too and she said maybe and-" Sophia finally sucked in a deep breath, blinking.
"I really miss ice cream." She blurted suddenly. "Do you think we'll ever have ice cream again?"
Dean shrugged, looking back at the girl, smiling at her wide eyed look.
"I dunno. Can't really imagine a world without ice cream though. How bout you Sam?"
Sam was walking on the other side of the girl, eyes scanning the forest around them. There hadn't been any signs of more walkers, but they weren't taking any chances. Sam shrugged, hitching his duffel into a more comfortable position on his shoulder.
"You know what I miss?" He asked.
Dean snorted. "Your man card?" He suggested sweetly.
Sam pointedly ignored him, hand moving behind Sophia's back to flip the bird at him. The girl seemed ridiculously small next to his giant of a brother, her head only just brushing his elbow.
"I miss my laptop. The Internet. I had the whole world at my fingertips and now…well now I feel disconnected."
Sophia considered this, before nodding solemnly. "Me too."
They travelled on.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
At mid-day they stopped for a brief rest. Sam handed out some old cereal bars they had found at a gas-station days ago, as well as a dented water bottle. The water was warm from the day's heat, but all three took several grateful swigs. They had four more bottles in the duffle bags but were going to have to ration them; who knew how long they'd be out here.
The day continued to lengthen. It seemed like the road they were following just went on and on, and Dean was starting to seriously consider suggesting they head back. He had cast a glance behind them attempting to gauge how long it might take them to get back to the house when he noticed it.
Further down the dusty trail behind them, something was following.
It was too far away to see clearly, but he could hazard a guess as to what it was.
Turning back to the front, his hand slid to the back of his jeans, reassuring himself that the revolver was in easy reach. The thing was far enough away to not pose a threat at the moment, and Dean didn't mention it. Sophia didn't need to be scared at the moment, not when they weren't in any real danger. Yet.
Presently she was chatting to Sam, and had grabbed his hand, a slight skip in her step. Sam was smiling down at her, listening to her dutifully as she told him a story about someone called Andrea.
Half an hour later and the thing following them was getting closer. Slowly but steadily it was starting to catch up. The shuffling gait was more pronounced now, and it showed no signs of giving up its determined march. Though the air in the distance shimmered with heat, Dean could just about make out other shapes behind it, a bit further behind but moving forward.
Goddammit these ones were determined.
"Sam." He said quietly. Sam looked over at him, and Dean jerked his head behind them. Sam nodded.
"I know." He said quietly.
Sophia noticed their grim looks and threw a glance over her shoulder. Her eyes widened and she whimpered, clinging to Sam's hand even harder.
Dean reached out, hand splaying on her damp back and rubbing small soothing circles.
"Don't look back hon. They're a ways behind us yet." Her frightened eyes found his, and she jerked her head in a tight nod.
"Dean." It was Sam's low voice that snapped his eyes back to the path in front of them, and he cursed colorfully, hand jerking towards the back of his jeans for the revolver.
"Uh-uh pretty boy. Keep those hands where I can see 'em." A voice tittered.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A couple stood in the front of them on the path, a man and woman standing side by side, seemingly having appeared out of no-where.
The man was large and broad, a shotgun in his hands. The double barrels glinted in the sun, and they were aimed right at Dean. That wasn't what had drawn Sam's attention however, and both brothers stared in silent horror.
Bites riddled the mans arms; great chunks of flesh ripped out leaving weeping swathes of flesh, the edges stained with the green tinge of infection. The woman was worse off, a large strip of flesh had been stripped off one arm and the white dull gleam of wet bone could be seen.
Her one cheek had been shredded, possibly by a shotgun blast, and the tattered remains of it hung down along her neck, teeth grinning from within the blackened cavity. Dean wrinkled his nose as the smell of the two hit him, coughing slightly.
Sam looked at them incredulously, Sophia now clutching his arm, eyes wide and horrified.
"How are you not dead?" He asked, genuinely bewildered. By rights the two should be zombified, at the very least not up and walking.
The woman grinned, and Dean saw the flash of black in her gaze. "Who says we aint?"
"Demons." He growled, and Sam stiffened beside him.
The man took a shaky step forward, shotgun thrust aggressively forward.
"Winchesters. Fancy seeing you in our neck o'the woods."
Dean cursed colorfully in his head. The revolver was useless against these two, and Ruby's knife was buried in Sam's duffle. They hadn't seen any demons in weeks; foolishly they had decided to store it as to ensure it wouldn't get lost in a scuffle.
Not a mistake they'd be making again any time soon.
Shit. The two demons were eyeing Sophia with twin stares of interest, and it hit him then what these two wanted. With their anti-possession tattoos the Winchesters were useless, but Sophia wasn't. These two were cruising for a new meat sack.
"Thought you had all run back home." Dean said boldly, Sam shooting him a look that clearly said: What are you doing you idiot? TRYING to get us killed? Dean answered him with his own: Gotta stall them until we figure out what to do.
The man sneered. "Hell's under new management thanks to you two chuckleheads. We'd rather take our chances up here."
Dean barked out a laugh.
"Yeah, looks like you're having a peachy time of it. So what's the deal, your host already dead and you're barely keeping him together? Looks like a lost cause if you ask me."
The woman snarled at him, eyes now pitch black.
"Shut it you smart mouthed prick. Just hand the girl over."
Behind the two demons two walkers had materialized from the forest. They shuffled up towards the group, sightless eyes zeroing in on their voices. Sam noticed them as well, and just like that they had a plan.
Dean took a small step forward, centering both demons attention on him as he grinned wildly.
"Bitch you clearly don't get how this works."
Dean gestured towards Sam and himself, "See, we're Winchesters," He pointed back at the couple, "and you, demonic spawn from hell. Put the two together and what you get is a whole lotta pain comin' your way."
The female laughed at that, a sluggish line of blood dripping from her cheek onto her stained shirt as she strained the damaged flesh.
"I don't think you boys are in any sort'a position to be makin' threats," She smirked as her friend hefted up the shotgun again. "We're the ones with the firepower."
The walkers were close. Their peeling mouths opened and closed but they made no sound, much to the luck of the Winchesters. As they drew even closer Dean could see why; their throats had been chewed out.
Sam's face was grim as he glared at the couple. "You should be running."
The two demons shared a bemused look, and the female started towards him teeth bared.
"If you think we're afraid of-" She gurgled as the first walker finally reached her, rotting fingers grabbing her arm from behind. The male swung his shotgun towards it and Dean wasted no time, grabbing Sophia by the arm and practically throwing the girl to the side towards the forest.
"Run!" He bellowed, the two of them barreling towards the treeline. A shotgun blasted behind them and Dean threw a terrified glance behind him. Luckily Sam was right behind him, intact, and eyes wide. Another blast rented the air, and a tree next to Dean's head suddenly splintered into small shards. He ducked his head, barreling forward and ignoring the angry shout behind them.
The walkers that had been trailing them for the better part of the day had finally caught up, and judging by the sudden high pitched shriek of the demons, they were pretty hungry.
The three of them crashed through the undergrowth, away from the horrible sounds. Only when they reached a small clearing where the trees thinned, did they stop, Dean bending over to rest his arms on his thighs as he struggled to catch his breath.
"Damn. That was close." He wheezed. Sophia winced, reaching down to untangle a branch caught in her shoelaces.
"I hurt my ankle." She looked up at Sam. "What were those things?" Sam shook his head at her.
"We'll explain later. Right now we gotta get back to the house. Who knows how many more are out here that heard the blast-"
It was Sophia's low moan that brought Dean's head back up from his crouch, and he groaned. Seriously?
A different group of walkers shuffled out of the trees. They had been hikers, and all still wore tattered backpacks; one even still wore cracked and broken sunglasses. It would have been pretty funny, had it not been for the fact that there were a good amount of them and they seemed pretty interested in the sudden buffet that had stumbled upon their little clearing.
Dean cursed, sliding the duffle off his shoulder and tossing it to Sam. Turning his back to Sophia, he crouched down, hands braced in the grass.
"Quick sweetheart. Piggy-back time."
The girl clambered on him in a flash, and Dean grunted at the extra weight, straightening and hooking his arms under her legs. Sam led the way as they crashed back into the forest, the snuffling of the zombies following them. Another two lunged out at them from behind some trees as they sped past, fingers clutching at their shirts briefly, and Dean could hear Sam's breathy curse. There were a lot of them, and though running wildly through the forest was not the best plan, it was the only one they had.
Sam veered to the right, and Dean struggled to keep up. Sophia was trembling on his back, arms clamped across his neck like a cinch as he ran. Dean struggled to inhale, his breath coming in short gasps. He lost sight of Sam as the taller man powered ahead, disappearing through a dense prickly bush.
"Dammit, Sam!"
The zombies following behind had somehow picked up their pace; he could hear their collected groans of longing. These ones weren't going to give up easy now they had him in their sights. Dean could feel genuine fear lance up his spine as he struggled on.
"Dean!" Sam's shout cut through his panic, and Sophia jerked on his back, loosening her arm long enough to shakily point off to the left.
"Over there!" She yelled. Dean followed her direction blindly, sweat dripping into his eyes.
"Kind of busy Sam!" He bellowed back. Sam reappeared, crashing through the large shrub with all the grace of a bulldozer, panting hard. His hair was wet with sweat, hanging in his eyes.
"I can see a farmhouse, if we can just make it there, we can hole up then take them down one by one." His eyes widened as he looked over Dean's shoulder at their pursuers, and Dean grunted, hefting the girl higher up on his back. She was whimpering, her bony knees digging into his ribs.
"Go!" He barked, startling Sam back into action. Turning, he led the way back through the destroyed shrub, branches clawing at their clothes they stumbled through.
One sharp twig pierced his arm, drawing a pained grunt from Dean as he struggled free from it. The two men crashed through a few more shrubs until they suddenly broke free; stumbling into a tamed field.
A large farmhouse beckoned in the distance, a red barn next to it and several cars parked outside. They ran further into the field and Dean went down twice, knees protesting as they slammed into the dirt.
Gritting his teeth, he forced himself up and on. Goddamn I am getting too old for this shit. His lungs burned and muscles ached; his back creaked with the exertion of running with a full body on it.
Sam was a blur of long limbs and bouncing hair in front of him, both duffels slung haphazardly across his back. They jerked around crazily from his running; often smashing into each other with audible clanks. If any of the flasks of holy water make it, Dean thought, it'll be a damn miracle.
As they neared the house they could suddenly make out figures out front and Dean felt a stab of fear. Was the farmhouse already overrun? They were out in the open with no possible cover, they wouldn't stand a chance. Sam obviously thought the same thing and had slowed slightly.
Suddenly he seemed to see something Dean couldn't, and sped up again, waving his arms wildly.
"Don't shoot! We have a kid with us!" he bellowed.
Dean felt a surge of hope in his chest, spurring his legs on. Were those actual people? More figures spilled out of the house, and one seemed to run forward. Dean could just about make out that it was woman, and she had her hands clapped to her mouth as she screamed.
"SOPHIA!"
Dean choked as the girl suddenly seized up, arms squeezing across his throat even tighter.
"MOMMYYYY!" She screamed; mouth right in his ear.
He could see them now; three men were moving towards them, all three armed. The man furthest out front was sighting down the barrel of a rifle and was dressed in a stained beige uniform. Brass glinted on his hat and breast, and Dean heaved silent thanks that they had found a group with a guy who knew what he was doing.
"Get down!" The cop shouted; the clicking of safety's coming off loud across the field. Dean dropped like a stone onto his front as did Sam, and the air above him erupted with the crack of bullets and the groans of the undead. Ignoring the pain where he had face-planted into Mother Earth, Dean rolled the girl off his back, gathering her in his arms as he ducked his head down and held her tightly.
The minutes stretched on, and then it was finally over.
Dean raised his head, eyes shooting to the massacre only a few feet behind him. Damn they'd been close. One zombie had its arm outstretched, fingers only inches from his boot, staring blankly at him. An arrow protruded from its eye, the steel tip winking at him from the back of its head. Dean whistled appreciatively, releasing Sophia and sitting up.
"Woah."
Sam's voice was low, and Dean looked back to find his brother sitting in stunned disbelief; hair plastered to his head at crazy angles and dirt covering his face from his dive for cover. Dean laughed then, long and loud, and Sam shot a sheepish smile at him.
Sophia scrambled away from them, tears streaming down her face as she struggled up. A woman was running towards them, arms outstretched and face streaming with tears.
"Mommy!"
"Sophia!"
The two reached each other in seconds, the woman wrapping the girl in her arms and sinking to the ground, sobbing.
Dean stood up slowly, wincing at the pain in his back and knees. Sam did the same, turning to face their saviors.
The cop approached them first, eyes solemn as he looked the two brothers over.
"You two alright? No bites?"
Sam shook his head, smiling broadly. "No sir. That was some good shooting. Thank you."
Dean brushed his jeans down, watching the other two men as they drew level with the cop. One was closely-shaved and looked pretty ripped; he stared back at Dean with barely disguised mistrust, a rifle held loosely in his arms. The other looked like the hillbillies Dean had teased Sam about back at the old house, but held a crossbow in the crook of his arm. Dean nodded to him.
"Yeah. Thanks." He said gruffly. The cop looked at over him then, rifle still held tightly in his hands as if disbelieving the danger was really over.
"Where'd you find the girl?" His tone was just shy of demanding, but it wasn't exactly asking either.
"She found us actually." Sam interjected. "We were camped out in an old house a few miles away. Some walkers chased her right into us." He smiled again, too relieved at finding other survivors to be suspicious. "She mentioned she was looking for her group…which I guess is you."
Dean nodded. "Yeah, thank Christo we found you guys." He was relieved to find his slipped word had no effect on the men, their eyes stayed clear. Looked like these really were survivors. Human ones. Sam shot him a relieved look and Dean grinned back.
The hillbilly on the right clapped a hand on the cop's back, smiling.
"Well that's a stroke o' good luck. Fer everyone." He said. He moved forward despite the cop's glare, one grimy hand held in front of him.
"Name's Daryl." He grunted. Dean took the proffered hand, noting the man's grip was strong and hand callused. If he didn't know any better, and they'd been in a different situation, he'd assume the man was a Hunter like them.
"Dean." He jerked his head to the side. "And this is my sister Sam."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
It took the better part of an hour to get the full story from everyone.
Sam and Dean stood inside the living room of the farmhouse, everyone crammed into the small humble space. The farmhouse and land belonged to the older man called Hershel, who sat in an old rocking chair with a frown on his face. Dean got the impression, though pleased Sophia had been returned safely, the old man didn't like the fact that yet more people had turned up on his doorstep.
Rick seemed to be the leader of the small group, and told the brothers all about the group's travels and how they landed up in Georgia. Turned out Rick was from the Kentucky Sheriff's Department, he had awoken in hospital to find the world in ruins. His wife Lori, a serious looking brunette, had taken their son Carl and travelled with some other survivors towards Atlanta, and had been nearby when the military destroyed the city. They formed a small band of survivors after that, and somehow, miraculously, Rick found them. They had tried retreating to a CDC safe zone, but it turned out no-where was safe. The group had been travelling away from the city into the country when they hit the roadblock and got separated from Sophia. Things got a bit crazy there, but Dean understood that an accident had occurred involving Rick's son, and Hershel saved him.
"Then you two come along." Rick finished. "And I gotta say, we're mighty grateful for that." There were nods from around the room. Sophia smiled at them from the safe embrace of her mother, Carol.
Sam smiled at him, nervously running a hand through his sweaty hair.
"Believe me, we feel the same."
A distinctly Asian looking guy stood leaning against the wall, a baseball cap worn loosely on his head. He shook his head and Dean struggled to remember his name. Glenn, his brain helpfully supplied.
"Don't suppose you guys heard anything new? Like what the hell is actually going on?" Glenn asked.
The brothers shook their heads apologetically.
"Sorry, we're just as in the dark as you guys are." Sam said.
"Things are just as bad from where we came from; military tried stopping it and failed. Kind of everyone for themselves now." Dean supplied.
And of course there was the problem of the demons. They might not have gone down under the walkers and could be back, Dean thought worriedly, Any one of these people was at risk.
"Do you have any salt?" He asked. Sam shot him a warning look, and Rick frowned.
"What for?"
Yeah like he was going to try and tell these people about demons. They'd probably kick him out faster than he could say "christo" again. He had to say something though, this new world required a whole new set of rules, but lying would get someone killed. These people had to know something.
"Just…as a deterrent. Zombies might not be our only problem." He finally said. There, it wasn't a lie.
For a moment no-one moved, then the room erupted in talking.
"Don't call them that!"
"What, zombies?"
"Why not? It's what they are."
"It's just not right. Zombies are things in movies."
"Well then we're living in one. What do you call those things out there?"
"I don't want to call them anything."
"Did Daryl spook you with his Chupacabra story already?"
"So what, salt will somehow magically repel them?"
The last comment was from the serious looking shaved head guy. Dean gathered he was Shane, the guy Rick's wife had been travelling with. Apparently he had been a cop too, and could see it in his stance. Dean had never really gotten along well with cops.
"I know it sounds crazy. But we need it. Rock-salt is best, but ordinary table salt will do."
The others stared at him blankly for a moment before Lori broke it with a sarcastic laugh.
"You've got to be kidding." She said flatly. Dean felt a flare of annoyance and bristled. Lady I have had one bitch of a day, you best back the attitude down a notch.
"Look I know how it sounds, but me and Sam have been doin this a long time-"
Sam took a step forward, spreading his hands imploringly, cutting Dean off before he could mouth off. "You're just going to have to trust us."
Lori looked unconvinced, glancing over at her husband, who was watching the two brothers with an unreadable look.
"Aint alot of that goin around these days." Shane muttered. That sparked off another group discussion, voices rising as tempers flared.
"Well it can't hurt I guess-"
"You can't be serious, they're obviously delusional-"
"Great that's real nice Andrea, just bad-mouth the two men who saved my daughter-"
"How do you know that'll work? Are you both scientists?"
"Oh yeah Dale they definitely look like scientists."
"What do you know? They could be rocket scientists for all we know."
"Yeah or mass murderers."
"Real smooth T-dog."
It was Sophia who stopped it. Pulling away from her mother she stood in front of Sam and Dean, small fists on her hips as she scowled at them all.
"LISTEN. There were these people today…." She trailed off, swallowing, before mustering up a glare to shoot at Rick. "They saved me and I believe them. You'd best believe them too. Or else."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
It was late evening by the time they went back outside. Salting the doors and windows of the house wouldn't be enough protection; most of the group was camped outside either in the RV or in makeshift tents. The brothers decided to draw salt lines along the edges of the yard and house. It wouldn't last long and they'd probably have to renew them every day, but it would do the trick for the time being.
Dean straightened from his task as someone approached.
It was Daryl, the crossbow slung across his back, hands jammed in his jean pockets. Steeling himself for another round of questions and accusations of being crazy, Dean set the bag of salt on the ground, brushing his hands together. The salt made the scratches on his hands, from their headlong flight through the woods, sting.
"I know what this must look like..." He started, but the other man shrugged, studying the salt line Dean had started to draw along the fence. The salt seemed to glow in the moonlight.
"Hey aint in me to question nobody these days." Daryl said.
Sam appeared from around the side of the house, having finished the salt lines on the other side, and paused as he noticed Daryl's presence.
Dean frowned slightly. "You believe us? Why?"
Daryl snorted, leaning one hip against the wooden fence. "You believe in dead people walkin around? Dont get much weirder than that. Besides-" He hunched his shoulders slightly, the crossbow swinging. "I know what it's like fer people t' not believe you. But I know what I saw."
Dean remembered the conversation earlier, and the one comment someone had made. "You mean a Chupacabra right?"
Daryl's face closed off, as if ready for the two brothers to rip into him like the others obviously had.
Instead, Sam nodded absently, walking closer, the salt bag hefted under one arm.
"Yeah I bet the woods are pretty full of them this time of year. They don't tend to attack people, but love livestock. In fact most of the time they live off of sheep. You know, I remember this one time…"
He suddenly trailed off; catching sight of Dean's dude-shut-up-they-already-think-we're-crazy glare sent his way.
"Uhh….I mean….that's what I've read. You know…in a book" Sam finished lamely, and Dean rolled his eyes. Great Sam, real smooth.
Daryl was looking at them both, but he looked more amused than freaked out.
"You boys say we got other stuff comin after us." He nodded to the salt. "That gonna help?"
Both brothers paused, shooting a glance at each other before Sam shrugged.
"It can't hurt."
Daryl nodded. "Alright then. What you want me to do?"
Part 5