It was late in the evening when I made a few calls so that I could find Jensen’s GTO. I knew that if I waited any longer I would have to explain why there was dozens of weapons hidden in the trunk along with wooden and silver crosses, boxes of silver bullets, and canteens of holy water. That kind of explaining wasn’t on my to do list, so as soon as I made sure that Jared wasn’t awake, I left to go clean it out.
It had been brought to a tow yard a few miles away from the hospital and it only took a couple of minutes for me to get there. Once I got the keys from the guy in the office, I drove into the lot and parked next to the GTO.
It was a mess. It really did look like a truck had slammed into the passenger side, which ruled out some sort of attack. Everything was either shattered or bent beyond repair, and it was suddenly amazing that they had even survived at all. The engine block would never be the same, and even though I was positive that Jensen would want to fix the car, if he ever woke up, I knew that it probably wouldn’t be worth it.
After I checked to make sure there wasn’t anyone watching I opened the truck. It took all of my strength to get it up past the bent frame. Once I did, I found that the false bottom had cracked into several pieces. Gritting my teeth, I started pulling the pieces out, watching out for splinters.
All the weapons had fallen out of their sleeves from the violent crash, and they were strewn everywhere. Shotguns, pistols, hatchets, stakes, crosses, all mixed together. I sighed, dropping the large canvas bag I had brought to the ground, and began moving everything from the trunk to the bag. It was hard, because some things had slipped down and gotten stuck between the frame of the hidden trunk and the body of the car.
Once I was finished, I dumped the bag into the trunk of my car then yanked open the driver’s side door of the GTO and began pulling everything out of the cab and backseat. Their duffle bags from the backseat, the lucky charm Jensen still had hanging from the mirror, and the journal.
I added their bags to the one already in my trunk, then grabbed the journal. I hadn’t seen it in forever, but I remembered using it all the time. It had been handed down to the three of us from our foster father, Seymour, and it had everything he had ever learned about the paranormal. It had been indispensable after he had died, especially when we hadn’t known what we were chasing after.
I thumbed through the book, not really reading it but noting where they had added pages and notes, then placed it carefully in my glove compartment, next to the much smaller one that I’d been keeping since they had left.
Then I grabbed the lucky charm. It was a chain with three gems dangling from it that Jensen had gotten for the car from our adopted father. A garnet for Jared’s birthday, a dark pink tourmaline for my birthday, and a pale aquamarine for Jensen’s.
I checked in to a cheap motel near the hospital and dropped the bags off, then headed back to the hospital. I wanted to be by Jared’s side if he woke up again, and there was still the matter of the cold touches and disconnected emotions floating around in their room.
I hoped there wasn’t a ghost haunting their room. That would make it dangerous for them to be in there, and I didn’t think I would be able to get rid of it without causing a ruckus with the hospital staff.
When I got to the room, Doctor Hanberg was standing at the end of Jensen’s bed checking his chart. He glanced up when I stepped through the open door, then returned to his work. I watched him for a moment, then went to sit next to Jared’s bed.
Almost as soon as I sat down, Jared sat up sharply, a strangled cry tearing out of his throat. I leapt back to my feet, startled, and the doctor dropped the clipboard he had been holding and raced over. I didn’t know what to do, so I grabbed hold of Jared’s hand, which was clammy and cold, and held on like my life depended on it.
My life probably did depend on it; if Jared followed his brother into a coma and never woke up I would probably never be able to function properly again. I couldn’t live without Jared and Jensen. Even during the two years we had been apart I had known that they were alive somewhere, which had made all the difference.
The doctor called for couple of nurses and pushed me away while Jared writhed on the bed, his muscles contorting and thrashing him about. I watched from the wall as the doctor and his nurses tried to hold him down and strap him to the bed so that he couldn’t hurt himself.
As he struggled, he turned to look at me, an intense look in his eyes. For a moment I felt how strongly he needed to tell me something.
“Corpus corporis muto monstrum!" Jared shouted at me before collapsing back against the bed, unconscious.
Stunned, I watched the nurses and doctor strap him down to the bed. I hadn’t heard Latin in such a long time it was hard for me to remember what the words meant. But once it all sank in I remembered.
For the longest time, Seymour had taught us Latin as a way to talk about our work among normal people without them knowing what we were saying, and so that we could exorcise ghosts and demons properly. When Jared and Jensen had left, I had stopped using it, since I hadn’t need it anymore.
But it seemed like I needed to brush up on my Latin, because Jared had told me that they had been after a body jumping demon.