Title: Death Omens (1/4)
Characters: Dean Winchester/Elle Bishop, Sam Winchester, Sylar
fic_variations Prompt: Heroes and Villains (#3)
Content Warning: Spoilers through 211: Powerless (Heroes).
Summary: Winchesters are running surveillance on Elle and they encounter someone they didn't expect.
Author's Note: Follows Unfinished Business. It's not going to be horrendously long, but it is more than one part. Will crosspost when completed, and liked with all the side parts that have come/will come off of this.
Disclaimer: I do not own the characters of Heroes or Supernautral. They're owned by NBC and the CW. However, any and all original characters are mine, so please do not use them without my permission.
“I don’t like this,” Dean said as he looked up into the hotel Elle was staying in. “This doesn’t feel right.”
“I don’t like it either,” Sam shook his head. “But what are we going to do, just let the spirit get her?”
“What I want to know is how we’re gonna lay the damn thing to rest if the corpse is all the way in Ireland, and Elle already charbroiled it?” Dean sighed slightly. “All we can do is shoot at it if it shows up to finish the job and try and ward it off for a little while longer.”
“Maybe it has another weakness,” Sam said slowly.
“Still—what’s the guy doin’ over here in the US anyway?” Dean said, continuing to frown. “Don’t they usually stay where they died?”
“I don’t know, Dean.”
“Something’s not right with this,” Dean sighed, shaking his head slowly. “This doesn’t feel like a normal hunt—at all.”
“Well, how else do you want to explain it, Dean?” Sam said, giving his brother a look. “It’s got all the earmarks of a haunting.”
“Yeah, well, it’s a really freakin’ weird haunting.”
The car lapsed into silence for a moment, and Sam watched Dean carefully, curiously almost, and Dean let him do it for a minute, before turning back to him and giving him the ‘what the hell is your deal?’ face. Then came the eye roll and the headshake before he actually said what he was getting at.
“Why are you so into this?” he said slowly. “This girl did try to kill you, remember?”
“Well, maybe I just wanna be sure about what I’m up against before I go running in to try and save the day, Sam.”
“Alright, alright,” he said, before shaking his head and turning his eyes out the window again. There was a bit more than that, but there were no indications so far that this was anything but your run of the mill spirit. And while Elle may not be their favorite person at the moment, a life was a life, and they weren’t just going to let the spirit kill her because she wasn’t nice.
They were quiet for a few more minutes before a scream split through the air, and Dean reached for the salt gun next to him. “That’s our cue.”
“Apparently,” Sam sighed, before getting up and following him.
“Miss me, Elle?” The man’s cold eyes bored into hers as he kept her pinned to the wall. Aside from her initial scream, she did her best to keep her face even, not give too much away. Sylar wasn’t going to see her break down and beg. Not while she still had breath in her body.
“Hmm—lemme think about that,” she began, before glaring at him from where she was pinned, electricity crackling between her fingertips. “Don’t think so, jackass!”
“See, that’s a shame,” he said, moving closer to her. “I missed you. In fact, I couldn’t stop thinking about you. You and that little trick of yours.” He tilted his head towards her slightly, raising an eyebrow. “Think you can teach me how to do that?”
“Sorry, buddy,” she said, shaking her head—or at least trying to. “That’s an Elle Bishop original. Only way you’re going to learn how to do that is over my dead body.”
Sylar’s eyes flickered with amusement momentarily, before hold up his hand in front of him, a move that she recognized very clearly as she started to struggle again, or at least try to. “I think that can be arranged,” he replied, before starting to draw his finger across the top of her head.
The pain was unbearable. It was like anything she had ever felt before, and she couldn’t help herself. She screamed, writhing against the invisible binds that were holding her as Sylar began to cut her skull open, the blood spilling into her eyes as it did. This wasn’t the way she wanted to go. In fact, she had dreamed of going in other ways, better ways. In fact, there was supposed to be someone out there who was supposed to protect her from this, and he wasn’t here. In fact he was nowhere to be found.
“Should have stayed back in the Company, Elle,” he started to say as things started to go fuzzy, and Elle’s head started to drop forward from the trauma, wanting to pass out and just dissociate from the pain. “Daddy always—”
Before he could finish the statement, there was a loud bang! from somewhere in the room, but Elle was too out of it to know what was happening. All she could remember was more loud noises in the background, and a strong pair of hands catching her as Sylar’s hold was released and she dropped down from the wall.
Dean had dropped his gun first, running to get Elle from the wall, which probably wasn’t the best idea considering he still had no idea what they were dealing with, but what they did know was that he was human—or at least not supernatural anyway. Rocksalt was going to sting like a bitch, but it wasn’t going to do him much good in actually stopping the guy, and he had Elle to contend with. Sam kept chasing after the guy, leaving Dean to figure out what had happened and how to stop it.
“Elle?” he frowned, bracing her with one arm, so that she was sitting up, determining that to be the best way to keep the head wound from getting any worse. It looked pretty bad—in fact, it looked like the guy was trying to saw off the top of her head with his mind, but Dean didn’t really have the time to process that at the moment. The job now was trying to figure out how to fix it. “Elle, can you hear me?”
“Sylar,” the name came off her lips in a mumble, and he tried sitting her up more, resting her weight against his shoulder as he pulled his top shirt off and tried to apply it to the wound to stop the bleeding.
“Hold on, sweetheart,” he sighed, securing the shirt as best he could, before scooping her up into his arms as quickly yet gently as possible. “We’re gonna get you out of here.”
“Is she alright?” Sam asked as he ran back into the room.
“Guy tried to take her head off, Sam, do you think she’s okay?” Dean replied, handing Elle off to his brother as he did, leading the way back out to the Impala as fast as he could.
“Adam,” she murmured through the shuffle, letting her head fall back against Sam’s shoulder gently.
“Adam? Isn’t that—?”
“Not now, Sammy,” Dean said, when they finally reached the car. “We need to get her to a hospital—as in yesterday.”