Disclaimer: I own nothing to do with AtS, SPN or Power Rangers. None of these are my fandom and I'm merely playing. The title is of course Max's line from WF.
A/N:Written for the twisted shorts August Fic a Day challenge. The PR is Lightspeed Rescue and the backstory for the Mitchell's fit into the SPN verse.
Never Give Up:
Ash thinks he’s going to die, it’s almost inevitable. He barely has time to wonder how one phone call could have sealed his fate and to be grateful that Ellen went for pretzels before the flames are starting to lick the inside of the Roadhouse. They’re surrounded too. The demons aren’t going to let them escape.
He realizes he’s truly fucked as he ends up behind the bar with crazy-ole Mitchell and this younger guy, Connor, who’d first stopped in as Ellen had headed for the door. She’d shot Ash that look that said find out more. Ash had been pretty sure that if Connor turned out to be determined to stick with hunting and half-way competent that he’d be in for some serious mother-henning from Ellen. Ellen likes her strays.
Only that doesn’t matter now, not with the demons cutting past the few hunters who’d been able to keep them at bay. Then Jones eyes went black and he started killing friends.
Mac went next, eyes black and Ash is sure he’s dead, sure that this is all his fault.
Connor glares at the two of them and Ash has a moment to think he must be regretting stopping by.
“I hate magic,” Connor growls at them before he’s muttering what Ash recognizes as a protection spell and slamming his hand against the bar. The whole thing flashes white and Connor sways slightly, shaking his too long hair. Then this two-sided axe comes out of his bag and Ash just freezes as he watches Connor begin to cut through the demons, wielding the axe as though it’s nothing, second nature. Most hunters he knows are all about their guns.
Maybe they’ll live? Probably not, the flames have engulfed the roof. Still the bullets aimed towards them are being reflected away by Connor’s spell.
Mitchell elbows him and Ash starts picking off demons again. If he’s going down, he’s taking a few hell spawn with him.
“Not going to work,” Mitchell decides, resignation in his tone. Ash pauses, stares because Mitchell is one of those guys who never seems to give up, despite odds, despite everyone, even hunters thinking he’s crazy. Mitchell meets his gaze, “Why?”
“I cracked their big plan, was going to try and put the right people in the way to stop it.”
They’re dead, so dead and it’s all his fault.
“Give me your watch,” Mitchell demands.
“What?” Ash coughs.
“Give me your watch.”
Ash hands it over, not quite getting where Mitchell is going with this until they’re exchanging wallets.
“Got anything else?”
Ash wants to protest, none of them are getting out of here. Mitchell glares, pulls a heavily bounded book from his bag and shoves it into Ash’s chest. Ash’s fingers close instinctually around it. He’s barely realizing that Mitchell just handed him everything, his whole life’s work written down, before the man is yelling and jumping over the bar.
Obscenities. Regret for the child he lost. Cursing at the demons. It all pours out of Mitchell’s mouth until its cut off into sickeningly silence. The flames still burn around him and Ash’s eyes are watering as his lungs burn.
Connor slides down next to him, pulls something from his bag, and then grabs Ash’s hand. Connor’s words have barely registered before they’re being whisked from the Roadhouse. They land in the backseat of a car. The blonde driver swears, turns and his face…vampire, British.
“Hate magic,” Connor coughs before he latches onto Ash, “Spike’s a friend.”
Connor slumps then, passed out and the vampire is still swearing. Ash is relatively sure he just left the fire for the frying pan and he’d rather have safe than frying pan. Ash shoves himself as far as he can into the seat and fumbles for the door handle until the vampire shifts back into a human face and tells him to stop, says he’s safe.
“Look, gonna find the nearest rest area so I can check junior back there. Magic tends to wear him out, he’s likely…”
“He’s probably got smoke inhalation,” Ash interrupts.
Spike glowers at him, but the rest area is remarkably just there and one of those fancy turnpike things. Spike tosses some money at Ash and demands donuts. Ash is half-tempted to tell him to get his own donuts and he’s not leaving Connor in the car with him, but Spike pulls out a phone starts reporting that they’d landed in his car.
Ash starts to reach for the door again, when Spike grabs his arm, then presses a talisman into his palm.
“Will keep you hidden,” he explains before going back to his phone conversation.
Ash gives them one last look, memorizes where they’re parked. It isn’t until he’s standing in front of the case, trying to decide on donuts that he realizes he’s going to live and that the demons will take one look at Mitchell’s burnt body and decided they’ve killed him. Ash closes his eyes tightly and tries not to shake. He stares down at the book he hasn’t let go of.
Ryan. Anyone who knew Mitchell knew that he had two kids. Dana was grown, off to med school, but Ryan had been taken by demons when he was very young. Mitchell had still been looking for him, had been convinced that his son was still alive despite what the things they hunt like to do with children.
Gonna find him, Ash decides as he grabs a box and starts filling it with donuts. He’ll figure out what happened to Ryan Mitchell, it’s the least he can do. First though, he’s got a vampire and a hunter to get back to. Then he’s gotta figure out how to get a hold of Ellen without letting the demon’s know he’s alive because they’ve got plans to interrupt and lives to live.