Fic: The Walking Supernatural: A SPN/ Walking Dead Crossover (10/16)
Title: The Walking Supernatural (10/16)
Author: daksgirl
Rating: NC-17
Pairings: hints at Dale/Andrea, Dean/Castiel undertones.
Genre: Zombies! Crossover fic of Supernatural meets the Walking Dead.
Spoilers: Character death that happened in the comic I guess? Apart from that nothing. We're in AU/AR territory now!
Warnings: character deaths (two of the WD crowd), graphic violence, violence towards a (undead) child.
Word Count: 4,200 (WIP)
Summary: The group is in for a nasty surprise.
A/N I spent most of last night researching ancient Sumarian. Why? Because I am apparently a freak who is also a perfectionist and even though I could make up my own language I wanted to be technical. Sigh. The ritual mentioned in this chapter is an actual Sumarian one, though I mashed it up a bit and is called "Charm against the hordes of demons." I've included an English translation at the end of the chapter if anyone is interested. Also, there are some character deaths in this chapter! Because I'm lazy and there are too many characters and it's not a zombie apocalypse if someone doesn't die. Also, also, I know that CERN and the particle accelerator are originally in Geneva, but for the purposes of this story I've moved it to Illinois, where there is also a particle accelerator in real life, just smaller.
…..
"-so there I was, up shit creak with no paddle, and that damn squirrel just sat there. Was like it was grinnin' at me and laughin'."
Dean laughed, clapping a hand on Daryl's shoulder. "Dude, I would have been too."
Daryl smiled uncertainly back. There was something about the guy that reminded Dean too much of a younger Sammy; uncertain and seeking approval. It made the big brother in him come to the surface which was ridiculous; Daryl was probably older than him, and was one hell of a badass. He didn't need looking after, but a part of Dean really wanted to.
Sam huffed, blowing the hair out of his eyes. "Huh, you should hear what happened the first time our dad took Dean hunting…"
Sam deliberately ignored Dean's death stares, launching into the tale with gusto, causing Dean to groan and hide his face in his hands.
A warm hand squeezed his thigh reassuringly under the table, and Dean raised his head to shoot a crooked grin at the angel next to him. Castiel smiled softly back, his thumb rubbing small circles along the rough denim.
The stubborn angel had torn off the bandage from his head that very morning, proclaiming he was fine and didn't need to be kept in bed. Dean had spent a panicked first half of the morning attempting to hunt down the clothing that got discarded the previous night and trying to make the room presentable.
He found his shirt eventually, draped over the back of a night table, and his jeans under the bed. The bed itself was a mess, and Dean had nearly had a seizure at what Hershel might say. That was until Cas suggested they just strip the whole bed clean of linen and let it soak; it was bloodstained and needed cleaning anyways.
Crisis averted. Now all he had to do was try and walk normally and no-one would know.
He hadn't been prepared for everyone to practically swamp them as they finally wandered outside. Andrea had been the first to approach, pleading forgiveness. Dean had been ready to rip her a new one but Cas had given him that look. The I-am-an-angel-of-the-lord-so-I-know-best one, so he had backed down begrudgingly.
Cas didn't have any hard feelings towards the apologetic blonde, and the two had chatted together relatively amiably. As the other women drifted over Dean found himself twitchy and frowning at them; not liking the attention they were showering the angel with. Jealous bitch, thy name is Dean.
Castiel squeezed him again, and Dean came back to earth just in time to hear Daryl guffaw loudly as Sam grinned at him, obviously just having delivered the punch line that painted Dean in a less than manly light.
Scowling, Dean pointed a finger at his little brother. "Oh it is ON. This one time we were out in-"
A scream interrupted him, and all of the men turned to Carol. The woman's eyes were wide, hand to her mouth as she pointed shakily towards the field past the yard.
Glenn and Dale were sprinting up the track towards the yard, dust rising behind them. Both men were running hard as if their lives depended on it, and Dean stood slowly, eyes straining to see through the dust behind them.
Something moved.
Dean's eyes widened. "Shit!"
Rick had dropped his spatula where he had been grilling some hot dogs as he gaped at the scene. Pushing Carl towards Lori who had emerged from the tent, he shouted something at them, already running towards the RV and the weapons stored there. Hershel had taken most of the fire arms from the group, leaving only the rifle for whoever was on watch, and two small handguns which were kept in the safety of the RV. For exactly who's safety was debatable, especially now they found themselves needing them.
The brothers had kept quiet about their own weapons, unwilling to hand over the guns. The run-in with the demons had reminded them that a lapse in judgment could be the last thing they'd ever do, and they had hidden their own small arsenal in their makeshift tent; keeping the revolver on one of them just in case.
Sam was on his feet, yanking the revolver from the back of his jeans as Dean dove for the tent. A quick scramble later and he had a knife tucked into his boot and a sawed-off shotgun in his hands. Only two shells were left, and cursing, Dean loaded them, stumbling back out to stand next to his brother.
Carol was already running towards the house with Lori, Sophia and Carl between them.
Dean sighted down the shotgun, watching as Glenn and Dale tore past the RV. Glenn paused for just a moment as he saw Rick; the ex-cop had grabbed the rifle.
"The barn...they were in the barn and they…they got Shane!" He yelled, and Rick's body went rigid.
Dean felt bad for calling the guy a douche. Gritting his teeth, Dean looked over at Castiel, standing by the table in shock.
"Cas get inside." He ordered.
Daryl was on top of the picnic table; crossbow already cocked and braced into his shoulder, gazing coolly down the shaft of his notched arrow.
In contrast, Castiel stood unarmed, eyes trained on the monsters thundering up towards them.
Goddamn, these zombies were running.
"They're getting stronger." The angel said, and Dean growled at him, eyes flashing.
"Cas. House. Now."
Castiel's face was pale as he turned to him, and Dean swore as he noted the stubborn set of the angel's jaw.
"No."
Muttering profanities, Dean fumbled the knife from his boot and tossed it to the angel.
"Do NOT get bit. Or I will kick your ass." He warned. The angel spared him an exasperated look before the sounds of shooting and shouting erupted.
…
These zombies weren't like the shambling walkers Dean had fought before; they were quicker, more dangerous. Rick opened fire as the first one made it within range, the rifle recoiling hard into his shoulder.
It went down in a spray of blood, but the others behind didn't slow down, ignoring their fallen sibling and trampling the body into a sticky mess. The creatures were shrieking as they made it into camp, tearing into the tents easily, scattering a box of newly washed plates across the dirt.
Andrea slammed a pickaxe down through the skull of a snarling woman as she attempted to clamber up onto the top of the RV. Blood splattered across her face as she tugged it free; the zombie slumping to the ground. Another clambered over the inanimate corpse, growling up at the blonde as it clawed at the RV walls with decaying fingers.
T-dog swung a baseball bat into the face of man, the impact shattering his yellowed teeth. He pulled it free with a sickening slurping sound, the thing's jaw coming loose and tumbling to the ground. Yelling, T-dog swung again, this time putting it down for good.
A middle-aged woman, still dressed in her bloody and stained nightclothes, grabbed him from behind; sinking her teeth into his throat as he screamed hoarsely. He flailed his arm wildly, attempting to beat her off but another latched on to his arm, teeth ripping through muscle and sinew. It shook its head like a rabid terrier, tearing a chunk of bloody meat free. It chewed on it, lips smacking as T-dog went down, carried by the weight of the woman burrowing her teeth in his throat.
Dean yelled hoarsely, turning away from the sickening scene to fire at a lanky teenager that lunged at him.
It was chaos, there were at least two dozen of the things, and they were moving so much faster than the walkers they had seen before. Another shot and the zombie's head shattered in a shower of brain matter; covering his arms and face in a spray of foul-smelling lukewarm gunk.
Sam was faring better; he had joined Daryl on the picnic table and the men stood back to back, firing into the roiling mass of the undead that clawed at their feet.
Out of ammo and seeing more of the things, Dean spun the shotgun around. Using the butt of the barrel, he slammed the gun into the jaw of another; the impact spinning it away.
Hershel was on porch, waving his arms and shouting hoarsely. Lori was trying to drag him back inside, screaming at him.
"Don't kill them!" Hershel shouted. "I know these people!"
Dale had made it to the porch and grabbed the man, forcibly hauling him away as one of the zombies attempted to latch onto him. Dale kicked out at it and it dropped back, hissing angrily.
"Are you crazy? Look at them! They're trying to kill us!" He shouted at the older man.
Glenn had entered the fray after grabbing the baseball bat T-dog dropped, and brandished it in front of him with false bravado.
"Come on then you freaks! Come and get me!" He challenged. Two zombies turned on him with hungry yowls, and the young man swallowed hard, swinging the bat with all the force he could muster. He hit the first one square on, but the other dodged the blow, lunging for his arm.
Castiel appeared, grabbing the thing's shoulder and slamming his blade through its skull. It gurgled morosely as it sank to the ground, and Castiel grimaced as he pulled the blade loose. Glenn nodded to him gratefully before turning to take on another zombie.
Grunting, Dean turned his attention back to his own problems.
A little blonde girl in a bloodstained nightgown stood in front of him. Her lips were gone, chewed off, and her teeth grimaced at him from black and bleeding gums. A film of white had clouded over what had been beautiful blue eyes, and her golden pigtails were filthy with dried blood.
She hissed at him, her fingers hooked into claws and Dean swung the now empty shotgun at her. She darted away; un-naturally quick on her feet. Was it his imagination, or was she laughing at him? She darted in close enough to rake her dead nails along his arm and the hunter winced as she drew blood. He managed to land a blow that time, and she stumbled away, licking her fingers as her eyes watched him hungrily. Definitely creepier than the usual walkers. Dean swayed on his feet, already exhausted.
She lunged for him again but was halted in her tracks by Daryl; an arrow splattering through her eye from the back of her skull. She dropped like a stone; small body now still and lifeless.
"Dean!" Castiel's voice was urgent, and he turned his head to see the angel a little further away near the fence where quite a few zombies were advancing. He was shoving an obese man in torn overalls away, his blue eyes wide. "Did you line the property with salt?"
Dean kicked away a slobbering woman with only one leg. "Yeah but it's probably gone now."
"Where?" Castiel's voice sharp and Dean gritted his teeth as he brought the gun down on the woman's head.
"Dammit Cas, now is not the best time-"
"Where?"
Dean kicked the corpse away from him. "By the fence!" he snapped.
Castiel nodded, and to Dean's horror, turned and took off into the fray.
"CAS!"
…
The angel was single-minded, shoving zombies aside as he ran. At first the zombies only gave him a second glance, not engaging him in any combat, as if they knew he had no soul for them to infect.
That was until he lashed out with the knife, severing one's nose from its face, and it screeched at him angrily.
One grabbed his leg and the angel went sprawling, the knife flying from his fingers. The fence was right there, and scrabbling at the dirt with bloody fingers, he hauled himself forward.
He could see the salt; most had been scuffed from shoes and the wind but there were still a few stubborn grains left, forming a tenuous unbroken line. The angel stretched out his arm, fingers straining. Just…a…little…more…
The zombie latched onto his leg, attempted to bite his thigh and the angel cried out, twisting to punch it in the face. It gurgled at him, and for a strange moment, Castiel thought it tried to say something. Snarling, he punched it again, his fist sinking into the wasting flesh of its face and tearing rotting skin free. Its whole left cheek came free with his next blow, and it released him long enough for the angel to wiggle forward.
Desperately, he slapped his outstretched hand down hard, scattering the salt.
….
This one wasn't going down easy, and Dean glared at it as it circled just out of his reach. It was hard to tell if it had been a man or woman; the corpse was burnt to an ashen black, the fleshless skull grinning at him like some plastic Halloween prop. It paced the invisible line, just out of reach like it knew. Like it was taunting him.
A muscle was cramping in his leg and Dean gritted his teeth, bracing himself for the inevitable lunge the thing would make.
A voice cracked across the yard, and the burnt horror seized up as if in an invisible grip.
"SA YA! ISA YA! RI EGA! DUPPIRA ATLAKA ISA YA U RI EGA!" The words made no sense, and Dean cast around for the source of it.
Crowley stood in the middle of the yard, one trembling hand stretched in front of him, palm forward and fingers splayed. His black coat flapped in the wind as he spoke, seemingly taking a life on it's own as its wearer chanted louder.
The demon looked thunderous, eyes blinking red as he shouted, revealing his true nature. Sam owes me 10 bucks, he's got crossroad demon eyes. Dean thought numbly.
"LIMUTTIKUNU KIMA QUTRI LITILLI SHAMI YE. INA ZUMRI YA ISA YA! INA ZUMRI YA RI EGA!"
Collectively, the undead jerked, limbs twitching and eyes rolled back into their heads as their mouths gaped open in silent screams.
"INA ZUMRI YA BI ESHA, RI EGA! RI EGA!"
Crowley bellowed the last few words and it stopped; the zombies crumpling to the ground, eyes wide and unseeing.
Dean blinked, breathing hard. "Wow. Never thought the day would come I'd be happy to see you."
The demon smirked at him. "Feeling's mutual." He glanced around at the twitching undead. "But don't get too excited, I've only paralyzed them for a moment. They'll be up again in a minute."
Dean gritted his teeth and slammed the butt of his gun down on the burnt corpse's head. His stomach twisted as its skull crumbled easily under the force, a spray of blood catching him across the cheek.
"You 'eard him! Destroy 'em!" Daryl shouted over at the others, and hurriedly everyone grabbed a blunt instrument and started smacking anything that twitched.
Rick wiped his brow with the back of his hand, smearing blood across his face as he walked over. His rifle was slick with blood and gore as he tapped it against his leg, eyeing the demon incredulously.
"And just who the hell are you?" He demanded.
Crowley grinned winningly, spreading his hands.
"I think you mean, who from hell are you." He replied. The ex-cop merely stared at him.
Crowley sighed dramatically. "Fine. Crowley, king of hell at your service." He waved his hand. "A pleasure I'm sure."
Sam hopped down from the picnic table and Dean checked him over with his eyes. No bites thank Go…, or whatever passed for God these days.
"Crowley? What are you doing here? What was that?" Sam demanded.
Castiel was rising from the ground, grimacing as he kicked a walker away from him.
"A Sumarian banishing spell if I'm not mistaken." He said. Wincing, he examined his leg where the walker had attempted to bite him. Luckily the denim had buffered most of the force.
Crowley snapped his fingers.
"Someone give the angel a cookie! Whilst you lot have been traipsing around the woods playing house with a bunch of humans, I've actually been busy. You know, trying to save the world and all that."
Dean snorted, reaching out to touch Castiel's shoulder as he neared. The angel nodded wearily at him. I'm fine Dean.
"Yeah 'cause you've always been such a good Samaritan." Sam growled, arms crossed. In the background the others slowly gathered, shell-shocked eyes turned on the scene. Daryl was kneeling by the fallen T-dog, shaking his head.
Crowley glared at Sam. "Would a thank you kill you once in a while, moose? I did just save your rather shapely ass you know."
"Um…" Glenn limped into view. "Not to break up the reunion or anything, but what is going on? What was that, where did you come from-"
He was interrupted by a furious Hershel. The man stormed down the porch steps, hands bunched into bloodless fists.
"You killed all those people!" He yelled. "My neighbours, my friends, even my family, how dare you..."
The man didn't make it very far. Rick was suddenly there, in his face. Before anyone could react the ex-cop let his fist fly. With a crunch, Hershel was sinking to the ground, hands clapped to his now bleeding nose. Rick loomed above him, face thunderous.
"Because of you, people are dead. Real people." He snarled. "My best friend…T-dog…all because of YOU."
Lori hurried to her husband's side, hands wrapping around his arm.
"Rick…" She whispered, pulling him away. Rick's shoulders slumped as the old man looked up at him with wide eyes.
Silence settled over the group as they calmed down; the reality of everything settling in.
A slow clap brought all their attention back to the demon.
"This is all very interesting, what with you angsting and all, but we have business to discuss."
…..
The group barely had time to fully register that two of their own were dead before even more was piled on top of them. Apparently demons and angels were real, the world was ending, because walkers were actually things from another dimension that would only get stronger and eventually bring about the end of the whole planet, and somehow the two Winchesters seemed to be at the very center of it.
Dean really didn't envy them. They had all gathered in the living room, crammed into the small space and all looking at the demon that stood in the center of the room. Rick sat on the sofa, staring in space mutely as Lori murmured to him softly.
Sam was leaning against the wall, glowering at the demon. "Why Sumarian then? If these things are from another dimension why does that affect them?"
Crowley shrugged. "Does it look like I know?"
Castiel stepped forward, placing a calm hand on Sam's arm before he could snarl back a retort.
"Sumarian is one of the world's most ancient languages." The angel threw a glance at Crowley. "It predates Christianity, and thus the rituals they used did not involve God in the same way you or I think of Him. They were a superstitious people and often attempted to conjure and control beings from alternate plains of existence. Though it does not have the power to fully exorcise these entities, Sumarian rituals do seem able to bind them temporarily."
Dean shrugged. "So why don't we just whip up a bunch of rituals and go on a walker killing spree?"
Castiel turned to him, shaking his head slightly. "Their number is already too great. Sumarian rituals are not enough on their own." The angel turned back to Crowley, eyes flashing. "Tell us you managed to find something to stop the rift."
The demon arched an eyebrow, crossing his arms. "Well as much as I want to take credit for it, it was your resident crotchety old man that found the possible solution."
"Bobby? You've been at Bobby's?" Dean demanded, hands balling into fists.
Crowley looked at him with a look of long-suffering.
"Yes honey. We didn't want you kids to find out this way but," He clasped his hands together dramatically as he sighed, "You can call me step-mom."
"Crowley…" Castiel warned, and the demon threw up his hands.
"Fine. Yes. We might have come up with a possible ritual. That's why I'm here darlings. Have to go save the world!"
Dean gritted his teeth, shooting a look at Sam.
"How?" His little brother asked.
"Really, I wasn't listening when he was blabbering on about it. I'm more an action kind of guy myself, I just gave him the scrolls he asked for. Something about that stupid particle accelerator in Illinois. He's on his way towards it now."
"On his own?" Dean yelled, and Crowley rolled his eyes.
"Well, he hardly needs babysitting. He's a big boy you know." The demon snorted at the brothers horrified twin stares. "Oh don't get your panties in a twist, I left Growly with him. He's safe."
"Growly?" Sam asked.
"You don't remember? But you two seemed to get on so well. Animal magnetism I assume."
Dean winced. "You mean that monster of a hellhound? It's with Bobby?"
Castiel cut in before the brothers could start yelling again.
"Illinois? How are we meant to get there? I am unable to fly…" He trailed off with a swallow, and Dean fought his anger at the demon back down. Right, saving the world.
"Yeah, the roads are packed with walkers. It'd be suicide and we don't even have a car." Dean tried in vain to not think about his baby.
The others had been sat in numb shock as the four had conversed, but now Rick stood up slowly, eyes flitting between all four of them.
"Ok…I really don't understand what's goin' on and-" Rick held his hand up, cutting off the brothers, "I really don't want to. I have a wife and son t' think about, I'm not goin' anywhere."
There were murmurs of agreement and Sam's eyes widened and he hurried to explain.
"Look, we don't expect any of you to come, it's far too danger-"
Daryl stood up suddenly from where he had been seated on the sofa, eyes hard as he looked between the two brothers.
"You really gonna try and put a stop to it? Once and fer all?" He asked. Everyone fell silent in the room, and Sam looked over at his brother, who nodded.
"Yes." Sam said quietly.
Daryl nodded, slinging his crossbow across his shoulder, moving to stand beside the Winchester.
"Alright. I'm in."
The silence continued to stretch on for a moment, and then Andrea stood as well.
"Me too." She said. Dale hurried up onto his feet, looking at her worriedly.
"Andrea…"
"No Dale." She shook her head. "If there's a way to stop the walkers and avenge Amy…I'm in. This all sounds ten kinds of crazy but you know what? I don't care. I'm tired of just surviving. I want to fight. I need to do something."
Dale hesitated for a moment, reading the intent in her eyes. Finally he nodded.
"Then I'm coming too."
Lori and Carol both gasped and Dale turned to the rest of the group. "I know I'm just an old man, but I lost someone to these walkers too." He looked back at Andrea and his eyes softened. "Amy was my friend, as are you Andrea. I can't lose you too. If there's a way to stop all this madness…then I'm in."
Smiling at him, Andrea reached out, slipping her hand in his and squeezing.
"Together." She said quietly.
Crowley clapped his hands together.
"Great, wonderful. Touching. I don't mean to be a pain, but we kind of have a schedule to keep. Good ol' Bobby is already on his way and we need to be as well if we're going to have a chance at this whole saving the world thing."
Dean sighed heavily, turning to his brother.
"I guess here we go again huh?" He asked.
Sam smiled back tiredly. "The family business."
….
Ritual Translation:
Arise! Arise! Go far away! Turn around, go, arise and go far away!
Your wickedness may rise to heaven like unto smoke!
Arise and leave my body!
From my body, depart in shame! Go far away! GO!
Part 11