Author: DMartinez
Email: shockerdm@icqmail.com
Disclaimer: Characters belong to Kripke and the WB, CW. Some phrases are references to “McClintock!” and “A Fistful of Dollars,” I don’t own those either. No infringement intended.
Rating: Mature (Vulgar Language)
Category: Supernatural
Summary: Dean gets arrested after an accident and then given the shock of a lifetime.
One Night
“It’s a left.” Sam repeated and pointed.
“It’s a right. I’m going right.” Dean steered them the way that he felt was the right way. “See, look. Motel.”
“That’s not our motel.” Sam pointed out the name on the building.
“We pull in and wait for the heat to dissipate.” He muttered and just as he was about to pull in, the sirens swung around the corner. “Or maybe not.”
“We are not going on a car chase, Dean!” The taller brother had to grasp onto the seat and door to stay upright in the passenger seat.
“We’re just going to lose them and then we’ll double back to the hotel. No big.” Counting to five, Dean spun the wheel on a random quest to lose the cop cars. “I didn’t know there would be security in the cemetery.”
“Maybe they heard you were coming.”
“Ha. Ha. You’re hilarious.”
“Jerk.”
“Bitch.”
“Would you just drive and not get us killed?”
“I would be doing a better job if some punk would shut his cake hole!” Dean yanked on the wheel and the car skidded onto a side street. Quickly, Dean pulled into a covered garage and cut the lights. “Now, when they go speeding past, we’ll sneak back around. It’ll be cool.”
“Whatever. You had better hope they didn’t get a make on the car.”
They fell silent as the sirens lit up the street and then sped past. Dean waited five minutes before throwing the car into gear and speeding in reverse. “What did I tell you?” He jerked the gearshift into drive. “Nothin’ to –“
Pain ignited throughout his skull. Glass covered everything. Shards of pain shot up his leg. His mouth tasted like blood. The ringing was so loud. Sammy. Sammy. “Sammy?”
“Dean?” His vision blurred. Red and blue lights flashed. The hiss of a large engine sounded like it was inside his ear. When tears cleared his vision, Sam could see that Dean’s side of the car was not as far away as it used to be.
“Is my head still on my shoulders?”
“Barely.”
“Okay.” Dean still had his eyes closed. “Don’t let me open my eyes until we’re clear of the car.”
“We have bigger problems.”
“Maybe but I’m in no condition to see my baby like this.”
“Your head is bleeding, your arm isn’t moving and you’re worried about looking at your smashed up car.”
“Sammy, get me out of the fucking car.”
--
When Dean came to, the light was blinding. He didn’t remember passing out. He didn’t remember getting to… the hospital, he assumed it was. “Fuck.”
Then he couldn’t lift his arms, prying his eyes open to look at his arm, he saw the blur of the IV, then the shadow of a cuff around his wrist, the cool metal biting slightly. “Fuck it all.”
“Mr. Winchester, you’re awake.” The detective set a chair at the end of the bed. “Forgive the cuffs but you’re a flight risk. You have a history of bolting from the scene, picking locks and absconding with city property.”
“I have the right to a lawyer.” Dean made himself comfortable; as if he was not chained to his bed and did not have pain shooting up his leg. “Is my leg in a cast?”
“It appears so.”
“Oh. Okay.” He nodded to himself. “But the lawyer and the doctor. Anytime now.”
“How about I read you the charges?”
“Oh, did we skip that formality?”
“You’re a charming, man, Mr. Winchester but I don’t think you can charm your way out of this one. We are officially charging you with grave desecration and reckless endangerment.” She took a seat and flipped open the file in her hands. “When we ran your prints, we found your name and a list of priors, as well as a request to hold for FBI. I plan to charge you before they get here.” She waited for a response but the guy looked mostly sleepy. The drugs were impairing his judgment. Hopefully enough to get him to slip up before the DA got there. “So, this is not your first grave desecration. Robbery, petty. Credit card fraud, aiding. Unlawful possession of a deadly weapon, several counts. Houdini’d yourself out of more than one jail cell. Dead beat dad charges in Texas. Nice one. DFS in more than one state has your name from years back, apparently. Reckless endangerment…”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa.” Dean cleared his throat and tried to sit up. “You’re just making shit up, now.”
“I’m just reading what I was sent with your prints.”
“Go back. What’s this dead beat dad business? I don’t have any kids.”
“That’s hardly here or there with the seriousness of the crimes you’ve committed in this state.”
“I won’t have false accusations brought against me. Who said I was a dead beat dad?” He demanded. His mind spun. Texas. Texas was a big state. There were lots of one-night stands in Texas. He couldn’t even narrow down a hair color, forget a city.
“There are also murder charges.”
“Yeah. I’ve heard all that before.” Dean sagged back onto the bed.
“You’re not concerned with any of the charges that could send you to jail? You’re worried about the one that revokes your driver’s license.”
“The murder charges are bogus.” Dean made a face at her. He mentally counted back all the runs through Texas. The arrests that hadn’t had that brought up. “How old is this dead beat dad charge?”
“Four years.”
“Huh.” Dean rubbed his nose on his shoulder. “Well, lawyer me up anyway. Don’t care what you throw at me. I need my own personal Matlock before I say anything about any other charges.”
“I think you should know that we have your brother in another room and he’s cooperating.”
“Right. He’ll need Matlock, too.”
--
Sam stretched so he could see across the room and detect anything small and metal that he could use to pick the lock on his handcuffs. The file on the door had a paperclip but he’d never get to it before the guard came back into the room. When he was 11, he could have closed the cuffs enough to make them open the other way again. Then he’d had that huge growth spurt and he’d had trouble with handcuffs ever since.
“Mr. Winchester.” The voice called in just as the door was opening. “I’m pleased to see that your record is nowhere as colorful as your brothers but we could still bring you up on accessory charges.”
“Where’s my lawyer?”
“Why don’t you cooperate with us?”
“How’s my brother doing?” Sam sat quietly. He didn’t want to provoke but he wasn’t going to let her control the conversation.
“He’s awake and cooperating.”
He didn’t mean to burst out laughing but the cop really didn’t know who she was dealing with. “Okay, I’ll play along. He said he wanted Matlock and then you gave up. Well… I’m telling you the same thing.”
--
Stupid leg. Dean stared down at the cast. He wasn’t in much pain anymore but he figured the IV had drugs. He could hobble but being seen would be an issue and who knew what kind of shape his car was in. The lawyer walked in but she looked like she was 14 years old. “Uh-uh. Try again.”
“Pardon me?” She set down her bags.
“Doogie Howser, J.D. Out. If I have to have one, I want a real lawyer.”
“I’m the court appointed—“
“Out.”
“Mr. Winchester…” It took her a moment to realize that one of his hands was waving around free. “I’ve posted your bail. An escape at this point would revoke that. I’m working hard to dig up an alibi but getting yourself hit by the fire truck while evading the law isn’t working for me.”
“So, I can go?”
“No, you have a broken leg… thus the reason your bail was allowed. Stay put.” She groaned and exited the room again.
Dean went to work on the second cuff. He could get out. He could… he would miss the pain medication but he would be free.
--
“Mr. Winchester.”
Sam barely nodded and tried to hide the fact that he’d been picking the lock on his cuffs.
“I’m Miriam Davis. I’m your lawyer. Give me that paperclip.” She held out her hand. Her tone was deadly. She looked like she had already been through the wringer.
“What?”
“Your brother is doing it, too… only he’s got his foot in plaster. I need you to tell him to cooperate. I figure you to be the more reasonable of the two, as your rap sheet isn’t nearly as long or colorful.”
“Pencil and paper please?” He handed over the paper clip. There was another one in the file he’d stolen it from. He wasn’t too worried about losing it.
--
Dean worked steadily on getting out of the bed and into the chair. If he could do that, he could work on getting out the door come nightfall. He was trying to look casual and adjust his barely-there hospital gown when the nurse came in with a frown. “Mr. Winchester, you are not supposed to be out of bed. Back you go.”
“I’m claustrophobic; couldn’t you take me for a walk?”
“No. You’re under police custody on this floor. I don’t believe someone as charming as you did all the things they claim but I still can’t let you go.”
“I’m starving. Please tell me the cafeteria food is good.”
“Back into bed.” She put him back into the bed and this time put restraint cuffs on him. “You have to stay there.”
“Only because you’re so sweet. Are you married?”
“Shame on you. Shameless, I’ll bet, is more accurate.” She eyed him warily. “I have a daughter your age… but I raised her to be smarter than to fall for one of you.”
“How’s that?”
“You’re a real heartbreaker and you know it.” She chided him then fluffed his pillow. “I don’t what exactly you boys did but it’s more excitement than this sleepy little town has had in a while.”
“I could make for more. Tell me where the nearest exit is.”
“Shameless.” She shook her head. “You didn’t fight me on the restraints. I do have a sedative in my pocket so, mind telling me why you didn’t fight me?”
Dean was tired and the set back was only going to keep him from jumping the gun and getting caught on his way out. “I can’t jump any hurdles. Won’t kill me to stay put a while.”
“Uh-huh.” She picked up his chart and marked off some of his vitals before going.
Just when he thought he’d have another chance, the door opened again. Doogie Matlock. She handed him a piece of paper. “From your brother.”
Taking it, he flipped it open and snorted. “Okay, whatever. So sit down and I’ll tell you what happened.”
--
Sam crept through the lot and spotted the cruiser on the near side. The cops were yawning and sipping coffee while an orderly regaled them with a tale or two. Smiling, he had an idea. Picking up several rocks, he rushed to the doctors’ parking lot. Tossing the rocks, he set off several of the alarms, the cops made a break for that side. That left Sam free to pick a lock on a car close to the doors. Something with an easy hotwire. By the time the cops returned, he was already back inside the hospital.
--
“So, you see, it was mistaken identity.”
“Why’d you pull into that driveway?”
“Look. Little Matlock, we were lost, I pulled in to turn around and he started yapping that we should ask for directions. The street was clear when I looked but I must have hesitated when I turned to yell at him and then hit the gas too hard in frustration. I should have looked again. It was an accident. So maybe I have a record, who doesn’t anymore?” He stared at her. “And some bitch brought up old DFS shit. She’s got no right. They were unfounded and once I hit 18, those things are closed.”
“It was actually a charge brought on you after you turned 18. Your brother broke three ribs? He was 15?”
“Oh yeah. I remember. Never mind.”
“Mr. Winchester…”
“Call me, Dean.”
“Mr. Winchester—" She sighed heavily but didn’t get to finish her sentence. The fire alarms went off.
“Come undo me.” Dean called over the noise. “I can’t run away. I’ve got a wheelchair over there.”
--
Sam pulled a hood over his head and slouched to keep from sticking out over the crowd exiting the hospital. He could see Dean and Lady Matlock heading for the exit. She kept her eyes on him at first and then became distracted by someone calling from the other side of the lot. Sam snuck up behind them and pulled Dean out of the fray. He kept his eyes peeled as he loaded him into the backseat of the car then covered him with a blanket. He hotwired the car and got it on the road while everyone was focused on the hospital ‘fire’.
He had to deposit Dean in a hotel room in another town and go back for the Impala. He knew that… but any minute… “Sam, where’d they tow my baby?”
“Don’t know yet.”
“What were you doing all this time?”
“Pulling off the perfect escape plan.”
“What’s the plan?”
“Shut up and lay down.”
TBC
One Night (Supernatural) 5/5 M Dean COMPLETE
Moderators: ISLANDGIRL5, Forum Moderators
One Night (Supernatural) 5/5 M Dean COMPLETE
Last edited by DMartinez on Sat Apr 14, 2007 5:14 am, edited 3 times in total.
2
Part 2
Dean sat in the hotel room, waiting. It was just like any other hotel in any other town in any other state. This time was different. His focus had been on the job; on escaping police custody. Now he was laid up and alone and he had time to think.
He was a dead beat dad.
He had a kid.
4 years old.
He counted back. He couldn’t recall a face. A waitress maybe? Some college student? Or a girl in a bar?
Dragging his weary bones from the bed, he fished Sam’s laptop out of the pile on the other bed and made quick work of connecting it to the phone line. Fraudulent credit cards in hand, he went about setting up the hotel’s ‘free’ internet access. Dean didn’t go to Texas often. There were memorable trips of course but none that fit the timeline given to him by the detective. Texas was also a big state. He knew where he hadn’t been. He’d never seen the gulf waters from a Texan beach; he’d driven through the Panhandle but never lingered there. North-East Texas, he’d been there with Sammy, and too recently for any hook up to result in a child. The three of them had been to Austin but that was too long ago. He’d been to West Texas more than once with Dad, more than once stopping for fun. It was so spread out that it was easy to travel a long distance just to reach the next town. Still, nothing leapt out at him.
He pulled up Sam’s search engines and didn’t know where to start. He took hours to figure it out. To adjust searches. He could narrow it down to a county but not to a city and definitely not to a person.
Four or so years ago, he’d been 23 and picking up ladies at every available chance. It hadn’t been discussed with his father past an earlier conversation about protection and drinking. Grabbing his father’s journal, he searched cities and dates for anything that came close to matching. Finally, he had a year with two Texan hunts, seven stops between them.
--
It took four days for Sam to finish the job. He’d had to finish the salty bonfire, free the Impala and make it back to Dean without alerting the cops to what he was doing, getting caught in the act, getting seen by anyone or letting anyone follow him back to his brother. Exhausted, Sam opened the door to find Dean on the internet. “Dude, if I find out you’ve been using it for porn, I’m gonna kill you.”
“Chill.” Dean waved the bottle of illegally gotten pain killers at his brother. “Don’t think I could, even if I wanted to.”
“Find a good excuse to get out of this state as quickly as possible?” Sam rifled through his bag for clean clothes. He needed a shower, badly.
“I’m looking.” The older Winchester waved him off. He had been. He really had been. Any excuse to get them to a county courthouse close enough to one of his suspected one-night stands. “High suicide rates. Suspicious. Shower. I’ll have more when you come out.”
“Dean, it’s a mess in here.” Sam called from the small bathroom.
“My leg is in a cast and I’m not gross enough to not shower, especially when the pizza delivery chick is so hot.”
“You’re a pig man.”
“The pig has the most satisfying sex life of the animal kingdom. I would be honored to be a pig.”
“How do you even know that?”
“I am sitting in front of a computer and have been for four days.” Dean nodded to the screen in front of him.
“I figured you more for a lion.” Sam tossed over his shoulder as he entered the messy bathroom.
“Quality, not quantity,” Dean called back. He typed in several letters and deleted them before deciding on what he wanted to search for. There had to be some way to get Sam to go the direction he needed him to go. Then his eyes fell on Dad’s journal. Then he eyed the bathroom door.
--
Sam’s eyes flicked to the rearview mirror. He could see Dean. Dean was pouting and whispering to the backseat as he stroked the leather. “The car is fine, Dean.”
“Did you see it?” Dean nuzzled the back of the seat. “It’s okay. I’ll fix you.”
“You’re just mad 'cause you can’t drive.”
“Hell, yes!” Dean roared at his baby brother. “This is my car. You don’t press the brake far enough to shift gears properly. I can hear the grinding. I shouldn’t. You don’t love this car as much as I do.”
“Six weeks of this is going to get old man.”
“Five.”
“Fine, five more weeks of this is going to get old, man.” Sam repeated slowly. “You can’t sit up front. You can’t drive. You can hobble in a week, I promise, so while I’m hunting this thing, try to stay out of trouble.”
“Yeah, okay, Dad.” Dean snorted.
“I’m being serious. You’re not on your game. You can’t move very fast. You’re staying put… damn… I do sound like Dad. Freaky.” Sam shuddered but he took a breath and allowed himself a moment to miss his father. The man had always been a father, even if it was eclipsed by the corporal in him most of the time. He missed being able to be angry at him, missed being able to know that if he dialed a number, it would hit the voicemail of someone who loved him even if he was angry. He missed being seven and being able to look at his father like he was some kind of hero. Idly, he wondered if he’d ever be some seven-year-old’s hero that way. If he’d ever butt heads with his own son sometime in the future.
“Hey, Sammy.” Dean cleared his throat. “Do you think that if we had grown up the way you wanted to, that we could have handled anything that happened? I mean, if there had been a choice. If Dad had had some help with us. If we had been in one place more than we were with him, hunting… I’m not saying that Mom dying wouldn’t have happened, just… you know… wondering.”
“Assuming that Mom had still died the way she died and Dad didn’t go all Jim and Jack crazy before discovering the truth? I don’t know. If we didn’t know what was out there and Jess still died the way she did…” Sam had to swallow down a lump. “Maybe knowing what we know has saved our lives. Maybe I never appreciated what Dad did for us but I still think we needed more stability growing up.”
“Yeah, that’s what I figured you’d say.” Dean whispered, not angry, not particularly sad. He was just wondering. His mind was still spinning. He didn’t like not talking to his brother. It felt wrong but with all the wrong things that could happen… getting an innocent child killed because a person or two too many knew… or having his child used as bait because a demon gleaned it off Sam. He loved his brother. He trusted his brother. He didn’t trust the things that lurked in the shadows.
--
Dean swirled the bourbon in his glass. He hated sitting in a booth. No quick exit. He couldn’t play pool. Sam got the info from the bartender. He felt horrible being useless but it gave him time to brood and think. This was the second town he’d run Sammy through on non-existent clues. They were real clues… years ago. So people would still remember and not know that anything had been done about it.
Sam slid into the booth. “So… the trail is cold.”
“Really?” Dean sipped his bourbon and gave his brother his patented ‘inquisitive-tell me more’ face.
“I mean, it all seems to mesh with the stuff you found but the bartender says no one’s been bothered in years.”
“You think it’s migrated?”
“Huh… maybe. I hadn’t thought about that.” Sam sighed heavily and pulled out the laptop. “Tomorrow we’ll look through the micro-fiche. See what we can find.”
“Sam… is this a gay bar?”
“No.” Sam snorted.
“Then where in the hell are all the chicks?”
“A town over. Feminist poet. Bartender didn’t know who it was.”
“Damn.”
“I know where the county records are though. Should be a short trip over, tomorrow.”
“You’re going to wake me up early, aren’t you?” Dean groaned.
“Actually… dude, when was the last time you actually slept in? You should rest. That leg is not going to heal if you keep running around on it.”
“Thanks, Mom.”
“Seriously, Dean. I’ve got this. It shouldn’t be a big deal to hunt. You just… chill.”
“I can research.”
“Yeah. You. Research. Funny.”
“What?”
“You throw spitballs at me when I research.”
“Dude, I’m going crazy. I can’t sit on my ass in a hotel all day.”
“So, sit by the pool. Go to a park. Read a book.”
“Yeah. Okay.” Dean shook his head and finished off his drink.
“Wait.” Sam reached back and handed Dean a cane. “I won it off the bartender in a round of quarters.”
“Thanks.” Dean grabbed the cane and looked it over. “Sturdy. I could knock some heads with this.”
“But you won’t, cause you’re going to the room, to sleep.”
“Whatever, man.”
TBC
Dean sat in the hotel room, waiting. It was just like any other hotel in any other town in any other state. This time was different. His focus had been on the job; on escaping police custody. Now he was laid up and alone and he had time to think.
He was a dead beat dad.
He had a kid.
4 years old.
He counted back. He couldn’t recall a face. A waitress maybe? Some college student? Or a girl in a bar?
Dragging his weary bones from the bed, he fished Sam’s laptop out of the pile on the other bed and made quick work of connecting it to the phone line. Fraudulent credit cards in hand, he went about setting up the hotel’s ‘free’ internet access. Dean didn’t go to Texas often. There were memorable trips of course but none that fit the timeline given to him by the detective. Texas was also a big state. He knew where he hadn’t been. He’d never seen the gulf waters from a Texan beach; he’d driven through the Panhandle but never lingered there. North-East Texas, he’d been there with Sammy, and too recently for any hook up to result in a child. The three of them had been to Austin but that was too long ago. He’d been to West Texas more than once with Dad, more than once stopping for fun. It was so spread out that it was easy to travel a long distance just to reach the next town. Still, nothing leapt out at him.
He pulled up Sam’s search engines and didn’t know where to start. He took hours to figure it out. To adjust searches. He could narrow it down to a county but not to a city and definitely not to a person.
Four or so years ago, he’d been 23 and picking up ladies at every available chance. It hadn’t been discussed with his father past an earlier conversation about protection and drinking. Grabbing his father’s journal, he searched cities and dates for anything that came close to matching. Finally, he had a year with two Texan hunts, seven stops between them.
--
It took four days for Sam to finish the job. He’d had to finish the salty bonfire, free the Impala and make it back to Dean without alerting the cops to what he was doing, getting caught in the act, getting seen by anyone or letting anyone follow him back to his brother. Exhausted, Sam opened the door to find Dean on the internet. “Dude, if I find out you’ve been using it for porn, I’m gonna kill you.”
“Chill.” Dean waved the bottle of illegally gotten pain killers at his brother. “Don’t think I could, even if I wanted to.”
“Find a good excuse to get out of this state as quickly as possible?” Sam rifled through his bag for clean clothes. He needed a shower, badly.
“I’m looking.” The older Winchester waved him off. He had been. He really had been. Any excuse to get them to a county courthouse close enough to one of his suspected one-night stands. “High suicide rates. Suspicious. Shower. I’ll have more when you come out.”
“Dean, it’s a mess in here.” Sam called from the small bathroom.
“My leg is in a cast and I’m not gross enough to not shower, especially when the pizza delivery chick is so hot.”
“You’re a pig man.”
“The pig has the most satisfying sex life of the animal kingdom. I would be honored to be a pig.”
“How do you even know that?”
“I am sitting in front of a computer and have been for four days.” Dean nodded to the screen in front of him.
“I figured you more for a lion.” Sam tossed over his shoulder as he entered the messy bathroom.
“Quality, not quantity,” Dean called back. He typed in several letters and deleted them before deciding on what he wanted to search for. There had to be some way to get Sam to go the direction he needed him to go. Then his eyes fell on Dad’s journal. Then he eyed the bathroom door.
--
Sam’s eyes flicked to the rearview mirror. He could see Dean. Dean was pouting and whispering to the backseat as he stroked the leather. “The car is fine, Dean.”
“Did you see it?” Dean nuzzled the back of the seat. “It’s okay. I’ll fix you.”
“You’re just mad 'cause you can’t drive.”
“Hell, yes!” Dean roared at his baby brother. “This is my car. You don’t press the brake far enough to shift gears properly. I can hear the grinding. I shouldn’t. You don’t love this car as much as I do.”
“Six weeks of this is going to get old man.”
“Five.”
“Fine, five more weeks of this is going to get old, man.” Sam repeated slowly. “You can’t sit up front. You can’t drive. You can hobble in a week, I promise, so while I’m hunting this thing, try to stay out of trouble.”
“Yeah, okay, Dad.” Dean snorted.
“I’m being serious. You’re not on your game. You can’t move very fast. You’re staying put… damn… I do sound like Dad. Freaky.” Sam shuddered but he took a breath and allowed himself a moment to miss his father. The man had always been a father, even if it was eclipsed by the corporal in him most of the time. He missed being able to be angry at him, missed being able to know that if he dialed a number, it would hit the voicemail of someone who loved him even if he was angry. He missed being seven and being able to look at his father like he was some kind of hero. Idly, he wondered if he’d ever be some seven-year-old’s hero that way. If he’d ever butt heads with his own son sometime in the future.
“Hey, Sammy.” Dean cleared his throat. “Do you think that if we had grown up the way you wanted to, that we could have handled anything that happened? I mean, if there had been a choice. If Dad had had some help with us. If we had been in one place more than we were with him, hunting… I’m not saying that Mom dying wouldn’t have happened, just… you know… wondering.”
“Assuming that Mom had still died the way she died and Dad didn’t go all Jim and Jack crazy before discovering the truth? I don’t know. If we didn’t know what was out there and Jess still died the way she did…” Sam had to swallow down a lump. “Maybe knowing what we know has saved our lives. Maybe I never appreciated what Dad did for us but I still think we needed more stability growing up.”
“Yeah, that’s what I figured you’d say.” Dean whispered, not angry, not particularly sad. He was just wondering. His mind was still spinning. He didn’t like not talking to his brother. It felt wrong but with all the wrong things that could happen… getting an innocent child killed because a person or two too many knew… or having his child used as bait because a demon gleaned it off Sam. He loved his brother. He trusted his brother. He didn’t trust the things that lurked in the shadows.
--
Dean swirled the bourbon in his glass. He hated sitting in a booth. No quick exit. He couldn’t play pool. Sam got the info from the bartender. He felt horrible being useless but it gave him time to brood and think. This was the second town he’d run Sammy through on non-existent clues. They were real clues… years ago. So people would still remember and not know that anything had been done about it.
Sam slid into the booth. “So… the trail is cold.”
“Really?” Dean sipped his bourbon and gave his brother his patented ‘inquisitive-tell me more’ face.
“I mean, it all seems to mesh with the stuff you found but the bartender says no one’s been bothered in years.”
“You think it’s migrated?”
“Huh… maybe. I hadn’t thought about that.” Sam sighed heavily and pulled out the laptop. “Tomorrow we’ll look through the micro-fiche. See what we can find.”
“Sam… is this a gay bar?”
“No.” Sam snorted.
“Then where in the hell are all the chicks?”
“A town over. Feminist poet. Bartender didn’t know who it was.”
“Damn.”
“I know where the county records are though. Should be a short trip over, tomorrow.”
“You’re going to wake me up early, aren’t you?” Dean groaned.
“Actually… dude, when was the last time you actually slept in? You should rest. That leg is not going to heal if you keep running around on it.”
“Thanks, Mom.”
“Seriously, Dean. I’ve got this. It shouldn’t be a big deal to hunt. You just… chill.”
“I can research.”
“Yeah. You. Research. Funny.”
“What?”
“You throw spitballs at me when I research.”
“Dude, I’m going crazy. I can’t sit on my ass in a hotel all day.”
“So, sit by the pool. Go to a park. Read a book.”
“Yeah. Okay.” Dean shook his head and finished off his drink.
“Wait.” Sam reached back and handed Dean a cane. “I won it off the bartender in a round of quarters.”
“Thanks.” Dean grabbed the cane and looked it over. “Sturdy. I could knock some heads with this.”
“But you won’t, cause you’re going to the room, to sleep.”
“Whatever, man.”
TBC
3
Part 3
Dean escaped his brother’s watchful eye and hobbled over to the desk. “Excuse me, I need some help.”
“What with?” The woman asked; she was youngish. He couldn’t tell how old but he could charm her well enough, he figured.
“My cousin passed away recently and I just found out that he had a kid. I don’t know exactly how old or the name.” He faked a sigh. “It’s been a trying year. I do know that it would have been within the last five and this was the town he was in at the time. I’d like to break the news in person.”
“I’ll see what I can do to help.” She nodded sadly. “Would his name be on the birth certificate?”
“Yeah.” He pulled an even longer face and winced noticeably. “Mind if I sit?”
“Oh my gosh. I’m sorry I didn’t notice.” She rushed around the desk and pulled a seat next to hers. “Come sit over here so you can see.”
“You’re so kind.”
“So, what’s this cousin’s name?”
--
Dean waved off his brother and sank onto the park bench with his lunch. He had Sam making a run to the next town over to get an interview. He had gotten what he needed out of the clerk, plus some gossip as she’d had a younger sister go to school with the mother in question. Sitting on the bench, he waited. He had a book and Sam’s laptop to keep himself busy but he was anxious and a little nauseous. He ignored his food until it went cold. His ass was falling asleep. Then he spotted her. She looked exactly the way the clerk said she would. A girl. He had a daughter.
God, he was barely holding it together. Dropping his head into his hands, he focused on taking deep breaths. He thought he was going to black out at any second. He felt something moving nearby. That calmed him down more than anything. He had a knife in his boot, barely concealed by the snap-on track pants that Sam had gotten him to preserve his precious jeans. It was broad daylight but Evil struck any time.
“What happened to your leg, mister?” Came the voice of a little girl.
He lifted his head and had to take a deep breath before he spoke. “Had an accident.” She was so close. He hadn’t even heard her walk up. She was so small. “Where’s… your mom and dad?”
“My mommy went to work.” She pointed to the insurance office across the street.
“So… who’s watching you?”
“My nana.” She pointed to a woman doing a crossword on a bench across the playground.
“You know.” He swallowed thickly against the lump in his throat. “You’re not supposed to talk to strangers. I’m a stranger.”
“You look sad.” She frowned at him, breaking his heart. He couldn’t let her wear that chastised face for a moment more.
“I knew it. You’re hitting on me. I get it. I’m a handsome guy. You think I’m cute, don’t you?” He watched her smile shyly, which turned into a smirk barely containing a giggle. “I get it. You’re speechless. I get that a lot.”
She rocked on her feet for a minute before a devilish expression crossed her face and an eyebrow shot up to form a wicked peak on her little face. “How come nobody signed your cast? My friend Ruby broke her arm and she had one that was purple. I got to put my name on it.”
“You want to? You’d be the first.” Dean plucked a marker from his shirt pocket. She grabbed it and yanked the lid off.
“What’s your name?” She held her tongue between her teeth and she picked a spot under his knee to work on.
“Dean.”
“I’m Alice. Now we’re not strangers.” She knelt and focused really hard on her artwork. Dean watched her and tried not to ruin anything. He wanted to touch her hair, the same as his. He wanted to give her a hug to see if it was the bush next to him that smelled pretty or the little girl. Suddenly, he didn’t care if his ass was falling asleep or that he was starving or that he needed sleep. She looked up at him. “Are you a daddy?”
“Well, yeah. I guess I am.” He nodded and tried not to blurt out that he was her daddy.
“Where’s your baby?”
“With her mommy.”
“Good. My mommy says every baby just needs a good mommy.” She tilted her head and kept drawing. “I don’t have a daddy.”
“No?”
“Huh-uh. My mommy says he was a devil. I don’t believe her.”
“Why not?”
“Cause I’m too cute.”
Dean nearly burst a gut. So maybe he sounded the same way to other people. “You are. You’re beautiful. You look like an angel.”
“That’s what my papa says.” She fiddled with the cap of the marker for a bit. “Do you think my other nana and papa think I’m pretty too?”
“Your other?” He shook his head, furrowing his brow.
“My daddy’s mommy and daddy?”
Dean felt his eyes well up with tears. Neither one had a chance to see or even know about the only grandchild. “I’m sure they do. How could they think otherwise?”
“Your sandwich has ants in it.”
“Eh. I wasn’t hungry.” Then his stomach betrayed him and growled.
“Your tummy sounds like a monster.”
“Nah. Just hungrier than I thought.” He glanced across the park to find that ‘Nana’ still hadn’t looked up from her paper. “Hey, Alice?”
“Yeah?” She looked up at him, leaning on his leg. Even though it hurt a little, he couldn’t help but smile.
“I have M&Ms in my bag. If you get them for me, you can have some.”
“Why doesn’t your mommy take care of you? My mommy takes care of me when I’m sick.” She huffed, exasperated with the lack of care her new best friend was getting. She tugged the bag open to peer inside.
“My mom… she died when I was little.”
“Who took care of you?”
“My dad. He did a good job, I think. You know… for a daddy.”
“Uh.” She scoffed and fished the bag of M&Ms out of the knapsack. “Where is he?”
“Well, he died, too. It’s just me and my brother. My brother had to work. He’s younger than me and I told him I could take care of myself.”
“He’s supposed to take care of you.” She griped at him.
“He’s mad at me too. He tries and I don’t let him. I’m the big brother. I take care of him, even when my leg is broken.”
“You take care of him all the time?”
“All the time. Ever since we were little.” Dean poured her a handful of candy and popped a handful into his own mouth. “That’s what big brothers do.”
“Can a big sister take care of a little brother?”
“Absolutely. Being oldest, that’s a big job.”
“Mommy wants to marry Christopher and have more babies but I don’t want her to have more babies. I’m her baby.”
“Well, you know. Little kids kind of cramp your style but you’re gonna love the baby when it comes. So, this Christopher guy. Is he good enough for your mommy?” She shrugged. “Do you like him?”
“I guess, but I’m not gonna call him Daddy. No way.”
“Is he nice to you?”
“Yeah. He buys me dolls and dresses.” She sighed heavily with all the weary thoughts of a four-year-old going on 13. “He says we’ll be a family after the wedding.”
“Good. It’s important to have a family.”
“How did you get so smart?”
“It must be because I’m old.”
“How old are you?”
“27.”
“Wow… you are old.”
“Seven times as old as you.”
“You’re too old to marry me, huh.”
That made him laugh. “Yeah, I’d say so. I don’t think your mommy could possibly let you marry an old guy… she might even make you wait until you’re 30 to get married.” He looked down at her seriously. “If you were my daughter. I’d lock you up until you were 50. You’re too pretty for just anybody to marry. You want to find a guy that will take care of you and treat you like gold.”
“What’s that mean?”
“Don’t fall for the boys that hit you and pull your hair. Get the boy that sits in the corner with a book. He’s a good guy. He’ll treat you right.”
“Boys are gross.”
“Good. Keep thinking that.”
“Dean?”
“Yeah?”
“How come I never seen you before?” She looked up at him and a cloud must have been blown free from the sun because she had his eyes. Green and sparkling.
“I work on the road.” She tilted her head at him, clearly confused. “I go to a lot of different places. I help people. I don’t get to stay in one place for very long.”
“You never been here before?”
“Once. A long time ago.” He poured her more M&Ms when she held her hand out.
“How do you help people?”
Okay, he hadn’t ever planned on having an actual conversation with the girl and now she wanted to know what exactly he did. “Okay, um… you know the boogeyman?”
“Everyone says it’s not real.”
“You ever seen the boogeyman?”
“No.” She climbed over his leg to sit on the bench, his marker clenched in her hand. “But he’s real. I know he is. How could everybody know about something that wasn’t real?”
“Okay, let’s say the boogeyman is real. He bothers somebody. Then somebody asks for help. I come and I help. I make the boogeyman go away.” He squinted down at her. “Do you believe me?”
“How do you make him go away?”
“With secret weapons.”
“Like what?”
“Salt. Draw a line of salt around you and you’ll be protected. I have a gun, a special gun I use. But you don’t touch guns. Okay?” She nodded, listening closely. “I… use my prayers, in Latin, and that scares them away, too.” She looked like she didn’t understand but he wasn’t going to push it. “You ever see the boogeyman, you tell your Mom, okay?”
“Can she call you to scare it away?”
“There aren’t any boogeymen around here. I already took care of them.”
“Are you a superhero? Like Superman?”
“Ah… I’m just a guy but I got some really cool toys… like Batman.”
“I don’t like Batman. He’s weird.” She shook her head, tea-blonde waves tumbling everywhere. “I like Superman.”
“Well. Superman’s a cool guy but the dude is an alien. You know who’s a real superhero?”
“Who?”
“John Bonham.”
“Who’s that?”
“Led Zeppelin, little girl.” He watched as she decided she was going to climb over the back of the bench. “He was a drumming fool. A rock god. Remember one phrase. Zeppelin rules.”
She wrinkled up her nose at him. “I like the Cheetah Girls.”
He collapsed in defeat. “You’re breaking my heart. The Cheetah Girls? Seriously?”
“And Hilary Duff.”
“Oh, say it isn’t so.”
“You’re funny.” She popped up next to his head. “Come here. I wanna tell you a secret.”
Leaning on the back of the bench, Dean bent his head down for her to cup her hands around his ear. Her whispered words tickled his ear in puffs of excited air. Then she was crawling underneath the bench and appeared out from under his leg. She handed him the marker but stayed on the ground tracking the army of ants that were carrying his sandwich away, crumb by crumb. “You know… Mommy says candy isn’t real food. You should eat real food.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Yes. You have to eat green stuff.”
He held out his hand. “Green M&Ms.”
“No, silly.”
“I know. I’ll make my brother feed me when he comes back.” He offered her a smile when she climbed out from under the bench. “I promise I’ll let him take care of me.”
“Good.” She wiped her dirty hands on her jeans. She eyed his shoe and wrinkled her nose. “Boots don’t go with those.”
“And why not?”
“They don’t.”
“These are the only shoes I have.”
“Tell your brother to buy you some other ones.”
“I’ll do that.”
She did a hoppy dance to the end of the bench then bent her head directly over his toes, the ends of her hair tickling. She grabbed his big toe and wiggled it a little too hard. “You have big feet.”
“It’s a curse.” He held in a laugh when she tried to lift her foot to match to his, proving to him that his foot was indeed much bigger than hers. He watched her give up and start her hoppy dance again. He grabbed his bag and started rifling through it. There were a million reasons why he shouldn’t do it. Hell, he would probably insist on these reasons if it were someone else. Still, he pulled out his phone and took a video of her twirly-hoppy dance. When she spun around and grinned at him, he snapped off a shot of her and saved both to his phone. He bit his lip to keep the stinging in his eyes from turning into tears. His gaze flicked to ‘Nana’, who seemed to be sleeping on the job. If he hadn’t been sure that Alice would be taken right home, he would have yelled at the woman.
“I’m four. I’m going to school when I turn five.”
“When’s your birthday?”
“January 25.” She explained, proudly.
“That’s funny. My birthday is the day before that.” He offered her his hand for a high-five. She was so full of energy, he was getting tired just watching her. To be four and be secure in the world again. The irony wasn’t lost on him that he had been four years old the last time he’d felt secure in this world. Maybe the world was trying to tell him something but he couldn’t afford to stop and listen.
“You have freckles like me.” She announced, suddenly in his face and peering into his bag. “Your clothes smell.”
“Good or bad?”
“Not good.”
“Yeah. I’ll make Sam wash my clothes later.”
“Who’s Sam?”
“My baby brother.”
“Oh.” She climbed onto his cast and watched as he rearranged things in his bag. He pulled out an almost empty bag of jerky. “Ew.”
“Fine. More for me.” Dean scooped a stringy mess out of the bag and into his mouth. He leaned on the back of the bench and just stared at her sitting on his leg. She took his hand and looked it over, it dwarfed hers. “Do you come here to play a lot?”
“Uh-huh. Cause Mommy works. Nana watches me and then we all go eat dinner at Christopher’s. Then Papa picks us up.” She reached into the bag and pulled at something shiny. “What’s this?”
“That…” Dean cleared his throat. He’d been debating the whole while. It was in his bag and he wanted to give it to her but he knew it would end up in a trash can or forgotten in a jewelry box because no one was ever going to know he had been there. “Is a necklace like mine.” He fished the charm out to show her. “It’s to keep me safe.”
“Who gave it to you?” She fingered his charm and then the second.
“My dad. It took me a long time to find another one like it. I was gonna give it to my brother for his birthday.” Dean took the leather thong and tied it around her neck. “But it’ll look prettier on you.”
“Thanks.” She grinned up at him. Dean couldn’t help but snap off another picture on his phone. When he closed the phone, he noted the time. It was getting late. He felt his mouth tremble as he pulled the remainder of his gifts out of the bag and replaced the jerky and M&Ms. He got his cane ready but he couldn’t make himself tell her that he had to leave. She still sat on his leg, fiddling with the charm.
“I’ve got something for your Mommy.” He took the marker to the outside of the envelope. He scribbled his cell number on it. “You tell her that Dean Winchester said it was yours when you grow up.”
“Winchester?” She squinted her eyes at him, trying out the new word.
“Yeah. That’s me.”
She took the envelope from him and stared at it. “Is that so we can call you if the boogeyman comes back?”
“Yeah.” He nodded and had to mash his teeth together to keep from saying too much, to keep from blurting out things he shouldn’t. To keep from hugging the crap out of the little girl. “My brother will be here soon. I think you should go sit with your Nana, now.”
“But I want to stay here with you. You’re funny.”
“Do me a favor. Remember that about me.”
“You’re sad again. I just made you happy and now you’re sad again.”
“Every time I remember your face, I will be happy.” He forced a smile onto his face. “I promise that I’ll never forget to remember you.”
“You really promise?”
“Yeah. I always keep my promises.”
“Okay.” She groaned and jumped down to the ground.
“Alice!” The shout was near-panicked.
“I’m right here.” Alice called back, rolling her eyes. She knew exactly where she’d been all afternoon. “My Nana is silly.”
The worried woman stopped a few feet away. “Alice, I told you not to wander where I couldn’t see you.”
“I could see you. We both could, huh, Dean.”
“Yeah.” Dean nodded.
“Alice!” She griped. “You drew all over that man’s leg.”
“He said I could.” Alice protested.
“It’s fine. She kept me company.” Dean did his best not to seem creepy or out of the ordinary. “I’ve been stuck on this bench for hours.”
“Tell your brother to take care of you better.” Alice instructed with a huff.
“I will. I’ll yell at him. I promise.” Dean winked at her and started a bit when she threw herself at him for a hug. He let a breath out when he hugged her back and set her on her feet again. “Now, stop making your grandma worry about you. Remember what we talked about. No talking to strangers, no matter how cute.”
“Okay.” She rolled her eyes and trudged over to her nana. “Bye, Dean.”
“Bye Alice. Be good.”
“Come on.” ‘Nana’ steered her grandchild in the direction she came. “I’m sorry if she bothered you. She doesn’t normally do this.”
“My brother attracts kids. They all love him.” A voice spoke from behind Dean. Sammy. Damn it. “You should be asking if Dean was bothering her. He asks too many questions. Why is the sky blue? Why is the earth round?”
“Shut it, Sammy.” Dean shot his brother a warning look. “Let’s go. I need a drink.” He shoved himself to his feet and immediately shifted his weight to the cane.” As he was hobbling to the car, he could still hear Alice talking to her Nana.
“And see, he was nice. He gave me this. And he gave me this to give to Mommy.”
“Cute kid.” Sam commented as he tossed the knapsack in the front seat and helped Dean get situated in the backseat. “Did you fall in love?”
“She asked me to marry her.” Dean shrugged and felt for his phone in his pocket. “She helped kill the time and it’s not like I could run away from her.”
“Dude, there are cutesy cats and flowers on your knee.”
“I’m aware.”
Sam laughed all the way to the driver’s side. He slid into the seat and started the car. “This almost makes up for the crap run you sent me on. The dude said that he talked to some kid and his father about it years ago. Said whatever did the killings is long gone. Not even a whisper of a rumor since then. Why are we here, Dean?”
“So, I forgot. We travel too damn much for me to remember everything, Sammy.”
“Dude, you’re in a pissy mood.”
“I need a drink. I just spent the whole afternoon with a four-year-old girl.”
“Okay. Fine. We’ll get a drink. You need to snap up those pants so the bikers don’t get jealous of your artwork.”
TBC
Dean escaped his brother’s watchful eye and hobbled over to the desk. “Excuse me, I need some help.”
“What with?” The woman asked; she was youngish. He couldn’t tell how old but he could charm her well enough, he figured.
“My cousin passed away recently and I just found out that he had a kid. I don’t know exactly how old or the name.” He faked a sigh. “It’s been a trying year. I do know that it would have been within the last five and this was the town he was in at the time. I’d like to break the news in person.”
“I’ll see what I can do to help.” She nodded sadly. “Would his name be on the birth certificate?”
“Yeah.” He pulled an even longer face and winced noticeably. “Mind if I sit?”
“Oh my gosh. I’m sorry I didn’t notice.” She rushed around the desk and pulled a seat next to hers. “Come sit over here so you can see.”
“You’re so kind.”
“So, what’s this cousin’s name?”
--
Dean waved off his brother and sank onto the park bench with his lunch. He had Sam making a run to the next town over to get an interview. He had gotten what he needed out of the clerk, plus some gossip as she’d had a younger sister go to school with the mother in question. Sitting on the bench, he waited. He had a book and Sam’s laptop to keep himself busy but he was anxious and a little nauseous. He ignored his food until it went cold. His ass was falling asleep. Then he spotted her. She looked exactly the way the clerk said she would. A girl. He had a daughter.
God, he was barely holding it together. Dropping his head into his hands, he focused on taking deep breaths. He thought he was going to black out at any second. He felt something moving nearby. That calmed him down more than anything. He had a knife in his boot, barely concealed by the snap-on track pants that Sam had gotten him to preserve his precious jeans. It was broad daylight but Evil struck any time.
“What happened to your leg, mister?” Came the voice of a little girl.
He lifted his head and had to take a deep breath before he spoke. “Had an accident.” She was so close. He hadn’t even heard her walk up. She was so small. “Where’s… your mom and dad?”
“My mommy went to work.” She pointed to the insurance office across the street.
“So… who’s watching you?”
“My nana.” She pointed to a woman doing a crossword on a bench across the playground.
“You know.” He swallowed thickly against the lump in his throat. “You’re not supposed to talk to strangers. I’m a stranger.”
“You look sad.” She frowned at him, breaking his heart. He couldn’t let her wear that chastised face for a moment more.
“I knew it. You’re hitting on me. I get it. I’m a handsome guy. You think I’m cute, don’t you?” He watched her smile shyly, which turned into a smirk barely containing a giggle. “I get it. You’re speechless. I get that a lot.”
She rocked on her feet for a minute before a devilish expression crossed her face and an eyebrow shot up to form a wicked peak on her little face. “How come nobody signed your cast? My friend Ruby broke her arm and she had one that was purple. I got to put my name on it.”
“You want to? You’d be the first.” Dean plucked a marker from his shirt pocket. She grabbed it and yanked the lid off.
“What’s your name?” She held her tongue between her teeth and she picked a spot under his knee to work on.
“Dean.”
“I’m Alice. Now we’re not strangers.” She knelt and focused really hard on her artwork. Dean watched her and tried not to ruin anything. He wanted to touch her hair, the same as his. He wanted to give her a hug to see if it was the bush next to him that smelled pretty or the little girl. Suddenly, he didn’t care if his ass was falling asleep or that he was starving or that he needed sleep. She looked up at him. “Are you a daddy?”
“Well, yeah. I guess I am.” He nodded and tried not to blurt out that he was her daddy.
“Where’s your baby?”
“With her mommy.”
“Good. My mommy says every baby just needs a good mommy.” She tilted her head and kept drawing. “I don’t have a daddy.”
“No?”
“Huh-uh. My mommy says he was a devil. I don’t believe her.”
“Why not?”
“Cause I’m too cute.”
Dean nearly burst a gut. So maybe he sounded the same way to other people. “You are. You’re beautiful. You look like an angel.”
“That’s what my papa says.” She fiddled with the cap of the marker for a bit. “Do you think my other nana and papa think I’m pretty too?”
“Your other?” He shook his head, furrowing his brow.
“My daddy’s mommy and daddy?”
Dean felt his eyes well up with tears. Neither one had a chance to see or even know about the only grandchild. “I’m sure they do. How could they think otherwise?”
“Your sandwich has ants in it.”
“Eh. I wasn’t hungry.” Then his stomach betrayed him and growled.
“Your tummy sounds like a monster.”
“Nah. Just hungrier than I thought.” He glanced across the park to find that ‘Nana’ still hadn’t looked up from her paper. “Hey, Alice?”
“Yeah?” She looked up at him, leaning on his leg. Even though it hurt a little, he couldn’t help but smile.
“I have M&Ms in my bag. If you get them for me, you can have some.”
“Why doesn’t your mommy take care of you? My mommy takes care of me when I’m sick.” She huffed, exasperated with the lack of care her new best friend was getting. She tugged the bag open to peer inside.
“My mom… she died when I was little.”
“Who took care of you?”
“My dad. He did a good job, I think. You know… for a daddy.”
“Uh.” She scoffed and fished the bag of M&Ms out of the knapsack. “Where is he?”
“Well, he died, too. It’s just me and my brother. My brother had to work. He’s younger than me and I told him I could take care of myself.”
“He’s supposed to take care of you.” She griped at him.
“He’s mad at me too. He tries and I don’t let him. I’m the big brother. I take care of him, even when my leg is broken.”
“You take care of him all the time?”
“All the time. Ever since we were little.” Dean poured her a handful of candy and popped a handful into his own mouth. “That’s what big brothers do.”
“Can a big sister take care of a little brother?”
“Absolutely. Being oldest, that’s a big job.”
“Mommy wants to marry Christopher and have more babies but I don’t want her to have more babies. I’m her baby.”
“Well, you know. Little kids kind of cramp your style but you’re gonna love the baby when it comes. So, this Christopher guy. Is he good enough for your mommy?” She shrugged. “Do you like him?”
“I guess, but I’m not gonna call him Daddy. No way.”
“Is he nice to you?”
“Yeah. He buys me dolls and dresses.” She sighed heavily with all the weary thoughts of a four-year-old going on 13. “He says we’ll be a family after the wedding.”
“Good. It’s important to have a family.”
“How did you get so smart?”
“It must be because I’m old.”
“How old are you?”
“27.”
“Wow… you are old.”
“Seven times as old as you.”
“You’re too old to marry me, huh.”
That made him laugh. “Yeah, I’d say so. I don’t think your mommy could possibly let you marry an old guy… she might even make you wait until you’re 30 to get married.” He looked down at her seriously. “If you were my daughter. I’d lock you up until you were 50. You’re too pretty for just anybody to marry. You want to find a guy that will take care of you and treat you like gold.”
“What’s that mean?”
“Don’t fall for the boys that hit you and pull your hair. Get the boy that sits in the corner with a book. He’s a good guy. He’ll treat you right.”
“Boys are gross.”
“Good. Keep thinking that.”
“Dean?”
“Yeah?”
“How come I never seen you before?” She looked up at him and a cloud must have been blown free from the sun because she had his eyes. Green and sparkling.
“I work on the road.” She tilted her head at him, clearly confused. “I go to a lot of different places. I help people. I don’t get to stay in one place for very long.”
“You never been here before?”
“Once. A long time ago.” He poured her more M&Ms when she held her hand out.
“How do you help people?”
Okay, he hadn’t ever planned on having an actual conversation with the girl and now she wanted to know what exactly he did. “Okay, um… you know the boogeyman?”
“Everyone says it’s not real.”
“You ever seen the boogeyman?”
“No.” She climbed over his leg to sit on the bench, his marker clenched in her hand. “But he’s real. I know he is. How could everybody know about something that wasn’t real?”
“Okay, let’s say the boogeyman is real. He bothers somebody. Then somebody asks for help. I come and I help. I make the boogeyman go away.” He squinted down at her. “Do you believe me?”
“How do you make him go away?”
“With secret weapons.”
“Like what?”
“Salt. Draw a line of salt around you and you’ll be protected. I have a gun, a special gun I use. But you don’t touch guns. Okay?” She nodded, listening closely. “I… use my prayers, in Latin, and that scares them away, too.” She looked like she didn’t understand but he wasn’t going to push it. “You ever see the boogeyman, you tell your Mom, okay?”
“Can she call you to scare it away?”
“There aren’t any boogeymen around here. I already took care of them.”
“Are you a superhero? Like Superman?”
“Ah… I’m just a guy but I got some really cool toys… like Batman.”
“I don’t like Batman. He’s weird.” She shook her head, tea-blonde waves tumbling everywhere. “I like Superman.”
“Well. Superman’s a cool guy but the dude is an alien. You know who’s a real superhero?”
“Who?”
“John Bonham.”
“Who’s that?”
“Led Zeppelin, little girl.” He watched as she decided she was going to climb over the back of the bench. “He was a drumming fool. A rock god. Remember one phrase. Zeppelin rules.”
She wrinkled up her nose at him. “I like the Cheetah Girls.”
He collapsed in defeat. “You’re breaking my heart. The Cheetah Girls? Seriously?”
“And Hilary Duff.”
“Oh, say it isn’t so.”
“You’re funny.” She popped up next to his head. “Come here. I wanna tell you a secret.”
Leaning on the back of the bench, Dean bent his head down for her to cup her hands around his ear. Her whispered words tickled his ear in puffs of excited air. Then she was crawling underneath the bench and appeared out from under his leg. She handed him the marker but stayed on the ground tracking the army of ants that were carrying his sandwich away, crumb by crumb. “You know… Mommy says candy isn’t real food. You should eat real food.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Yes. You have to eat green stuff.”
He held out his hand. “Green M&Ms.”
“No, silly.”
“I know. I’ll make my brother feed me when he comes back.” He offered her a smile when she climbed out from under the bench. “I promise I’ll let him take care of me.”
“Good.” She wiped her dirty hands on her jeans. She eyed his shoe and wrinkled her nose. “Boots don’t go with those.”
“And why not?”
“They don’t.”
“These are the only shoes I have.”
“Tell your brother to buy you some other ones.”
“I’ll do that.”
She did a hoppy dance to the end of the bench then bent her head directly over his toes, the ends of her hair tickling. She grabbed his big toe and wiggled it a little too hard. “You have big feet.”
“It’s a curse.” He held in a laugh when she tried to lift her foot to match to his, proving to him that his foot was indeed much bigger than hers. He watched her give up and start her hoppy dance again. He grabbed his bag and started rifling through it. There were a million reasons why he shouldn’t do it. Hell, he would probably insist on these reasons if it were someone else. Still, he pulled out his phone and took a video of her twirly-hoppy dance. When she spun around and grinned at him, he snapped off a shot of her and saved both to his phone. He bit his lip to keep the stinging in his eyes from turning into tears. His gaze flicked to ‘Nana’, who seemed to be sleeping on the job. If he hadn’t been sure that Alice would be taken right home, he would have yelled at the woman.
“I’m four. I’m going to school when I turn five.”
“When’s your birthday?”
“January 25.” She explained, proudly.
“That’s funny. My birthday is the day before that.” He offered her his hand for a high-five. She was so full of energy, he was getting tired just watching her. To be four and be secure in the world again. The irony wasn’t lost on him that he had been four years old the last time he’d felt secure in this world. Maybe the world was trying to tell him something but he couldn’t afford to stop and listen.
“You have freckles like me.” She announced, suddenly in his face and peering into his bag. “Your clothes smell.”
“Good or bad?”
“Not good.”
“Yeah. I’ll make Sam wash my clothes later.”
“Who’s Sam?”
“My baby brother.”
“Oh.” She climbed onto his cast and watched as he rearranged things in his bag. He pulled out an almost empty bag of jerky. “Ew.”
“Fine. More for me.” Dean scooped a stringy mess out of the bag and into his mouth. He leaned on the back of the bench and just stared at her sitting on his leg. She took his hand and looked it over, it dwarfed hers. “Do you come here to play a lot?”
“Uh-huh. Cause Mommy works. Nana watches me and then we all go eat dinner at Christopher’s. Then Papa picks us up.” She reached into the bag and pulled at something shiny. “What’s this?”
“That…” Dean cleared his throat. He’d been debating the whole while. It was in his bag and he wanted to give it to her but he knew it would end up in a trash can or forgotten in a jewelry box because no one was ever going to know he had been there. “Is a necklace like mine.” He fished the charm out to show her. “It’s to keep me safe.”
“Who gave it to you?” She fingered his charm and then the second.
“My dad. It took me a long time to find another one like it. I was gonna give it to my brother for his birthday.” Dean took the leather thong and tied it around her neck. “But it’ll look prettier on you.”
“Thanks.” She grinned up at him. Dean couldn’t help but snap off another picture on his phone. When he closed the phone, he noted the time. It was getting late. He felt his mouth tremble as he pulled the remainder of his gifts out of the bag and replaced the jerky and M&Ms. He got his cane ready but he couldn’t make himself tell her that he had to leave. She still sat on his leg, fiddling with the charm.
“I’ve got something for your Mommy.” He took the marker to the outside of the envelope. He scribbled his cell number on it. “You tell her that Dean Winchester said it was yours when you grow up.”
“Winchester?” She squinted her eyes at him, trying out the new word.
“Yeah. That’s me.”
She took the envelope from him and stared at it. “Is that so we can call you if the boogeyman comes back?”
“Yeah.” He nodded and had to mash his teeth together to keep from saying too much, to keep from blurting out things he shouldn’t. To keep from hugging the crap out of the little girl. “My brother will be here soon. I think you should go sit with your Nana, now.”
“But I want to stay here with you. You’re funny.”
“Do me a favor. Remember that about me.”
“You’re sad again. I just made you happy and now you’re sad again.”
“Every time I remember your face, I will be happy.” He forced a smile onto his face. “I promise that I’ll never forget to remember you.”
“You really promise?”
“Yeah. I always keep my promises.”
“Okay.” She groaned and jumped down to the ground.
“Alice!” The shout was near-panicked.
“I’m right here.” Alice called back, rolling her eyes. She knew exactly where she’d been all afternoon. “My Nana is silly.”
The worried woman stopped a few feet away. “Alice, I told you not to wander where I couldn’t see you.”
“I could see you. We both could, huh, Dean.”
“Yeah.” Dean nodded.
“Alice!” She griped. “You drew all over that man’s leg.”
“He said I could.” Alice protested.
“It’s fine. She kept me company.” Dean did his best not to seem creepy or out of the ordinary. “I’ve been stuck on this bench for hours.”
“Tell your brother to take care of you better.” Alice instructed with a huff.
“I will. I’ll yell at him. I promise.” Dean winked at her and started a bit when she threw herself at him for a hug. He let a breath out when he hugged her back and set her on her feet again. “Now, stop making your grandma worry about you. Remember what we talked about. No talking to strangers, no matter how cute.”
“Okay.” She rolled her eyes and trudged over to her nana. “Bye, Dean.”
“Bye Alice. Be good.”
“Come on.” ‘Nana’ steered her grandchild in the direction she came. “I’m sorry if she bothered you. She doesn’t normally do this.”
“My brother attracts kids. They all love him.” A voice spoke from behind Dean. Sammy. Damn it. “You should be asking if Dean was bothering her. He asks too many questions. Why is the sky blue? Why is the earth round?”
“Shut it, Sammy.” Dean shot his brother a warning look. “Let’s go. I need a drink.” He shoved himself to his feet and immediately shifted his weight to the cane.” As he was hobbling to the car, he could still hear Alice talking to her Nana.
“And see, he was nice. He gave me this. And he gave me this to give to Mommy.”
“Cute kid.” Sam commented as he tossed the knapsack in the front seat and helped Dean get situated in the backseat. “Did you fall in love?”
“She asked me to marry her.” Dean shrugged and felt for his phone in his pocket. “She helped kill the time and it’s not like I could run away from her.”
“Dude, there are cutesy cats and flowers on your knee.”
“I’m aware.”
Sam laughed all the way to the driver’s side. He slid into the seat and started the car. “This almost makes up for the crap run you sent me on. The dude said that he talked to some kid and his father about it years ago. Said whatever did the killings is long gone. Not even a whisper of a rumor since then. Why are we here, Dean?”
“So, I forgot. We travel too damn much for me to remember everything, Sammy.”
“Dude, you’re in a pissy mood.”
“I need a drink. I just spent the whole afternoon with a four-year-old girl.”
“Okay. Fine. We’ll get a drink. You need to snap up those pants so the bikers don’t get jealous of your artwork.”
TBC
4/13's part 4
AN: meant for this to go up last night but RF was down and this was the only place I didn't get updated. wouldn't have had time until monday evening to finish posting and I get antsy with finished fics. so.... I'm posting four and five back to back now although I should be sleeping for an eztra hour this morning.
Part 4
Sam watched his brother drink. He had seemed okay when he left him at the park but something foul had crawled up his ass, had kittens and died since then. “You want to lay off the booze?”
“You’re driving. I can drink.” Dean replied, cradling his phone against his chest. “You’re cool to drive. You’re always complaining I don’t let you drive enough.”
“So, since the hunt is a bust, why don’t we pull in somewhere and you can fix the car.”
“Go to Bobby’s. I need to get out of Texas.”
“Fine. I’ll give him a call.” Sam frowned and got up to get another round of beer.
Dean listened to the voice mail again. It was a bunch of nagging and bitching about how he had no right to even see his daughter. Why did he even care? What was she supposed to do with a couple thousand dollars when what Alice really needed was a father? Dean still couldn’t place her face but that hardly mattered any more. He saved the message again then opened up his video files. She twirled and hopped on the little screen. Dean couldn’t have stopped the smile on his face for all the world. He could hear her voice in his ears. “Dean, I like you a lot. Sh. Don’t tell nobody.” He studied both pictures of her for a few minutes each. He tucked his phone back into his shirt before his brother returned.
“You and that phone gonna be married soon?”
“Right after polygamy laws are passed. The car, the phone and I will live in bliss.”
“You’re drunk.”
“Yeah… what’s your point?”
“That you’ve been acting weird for days and I want to know why.” Sam set his beer down. “I’m fairly certainly you faked clues for a hunt. I don’t believe you forgot you’d already taken care of it. What was really going on?”
“Sammy, you are up my ass 24/7. Sometimes I need my privacy… especially when I can’t run away from you.” He idly picked at his knee, trying not to ruin the cutesy artwork.
“Yeah, okay but I had over a grand in that bag before I left you alone with it.”
“Something came up.”
“Yeah and I expected rims or a new door for the Impala… not your Fort Knox impression.”
“Whatever, man. I’m tired.” Dean stole his brother’s beer and took a long swig before handing it back and forcing himself to his feet. He fell asleep in the Impala because he hoped that Sam would get the hint that he wanted to be out of town sooner rather than later. He fell asleep inhaling the smells from his T-shirt; beer, smoke and little girl.
--
Sam watched his brother do something monumentally stupid. He leapt back into the fray to rescue his phone. It had fallen out of his pocket while they were escaping the poltergeist but it was just a phone. Tired and weary, Sam fell into bed but he was so pumped full of adrenaline that he couldn’t do more than doze. He watched his brother through narrow-slit-eyes as he reverently cleaned his phone and then sat back to watch something for almost twenty minutes. Watched his brother wipe roughly at his face and rub at his eyes before carefully tucking the phone away in his bag. When Dean rose to take a shower, Sam forced himself to sit up.
It was a huge invasion of privacy. Something that Dean had been insistent on over the past couple of years. Pulling the outdated phone out of his brother’s bag, Sam studied it. It was just a phone. An old phone. Usually Dean leapt onto a new phone as soon as his credit cards were pulled for fraudulent charges. It had dents and deep scratches in it. Flipping it open, he searched the files for some clue to his brother’s recent and lasting bent toward perpetual pissiness. There were pictures of pranks, pictures of hot girls and two pictures of a little girl with a wide familiar grin. More confusing was the short video of the same little girl doing nothing but laughing and dancing in that little kid way.
The water shut off. Sam was quick to replace the phone and lay back on his bed. “Dude, you leave me some hot water?”
“In your dreams, Sammy.” Dean called back. He emerged in his shorts and lay out on his bed. He rubbed his leg and frowned. “Think it’s gonna rain tonight or in the morning?”
“Your leg bothering you?”
“It’s not cold but…” He rubbed it red. “Maybe it didn’t set right. I don’t notice it until it’s gonna rain hard.”
“Well, you did insist on running all over the country and putting your weight on it. I think you shrunk an inch.”
“Shut up… really?” Dean ran his hand through his hair, it was getting long.
“You’re really attached to that phone… you risked death today to save it.”
“Have some waitresses’ pictures on there. I like to make return trips prepared.”
“But you risked death to save it.”
“Look, Nun-boy. I like to get me some and this phone helps me do that.”
“You know… you can transfer your files onto a new phone.”
“Shit? Really?” He watched his brother’s face. “Yeah, maybe it’s time to retire this beauty.”
--
Dean pulled the hunk of cast out of the bottom of his bag. It looked like crap except for where he’d applied a coat of lacquer to preserve the artwork. Two little shaky kittens and some flowers and Alice scrawled between them. He knew that he had screwed it all up. He had put the pieces together with events from Dad’s journal and the scathing voice messages he got from Shannon, whenever she was feeling frustrated and needed to lash out at someone who deserved it.
He’d been 22 when he’d rolled into that town. He’d hooked up with a pretty brunette, while heavily intoxicated off alcohol and pain pills. He’d forgotten to use a condom or if he had, it was that 1% ineffectiveness that had struck. So the day after his 23rd birthday, a daughter was brought into the world. Green eyes and tea-blonde and every inch her father’s daughter. Whatever phone number he’d been using had been dead by the time Shannon had cried out for help. He’d managed not to get picked up in Texas for four years. Had managed to not know for four years.
Then he had to go and track her down. Then he had to write her a damned letter. Then he had to meet her. Then he’d fallen in love with her. Had let her draw silly things all over his cast. Had let her crawl all over him and right into his heart. Then he’d gone and given her the charm he’d meant for his brother. She was inside him and he couldn’t drink her out, vomit her out, hunt her out. She was stuck and she wasn’t even his. Sure, he’d lent some DNA one drunken night but he had no claim to her. When he and Sammy needed space, he took himself to Texas to watch her from afar. He didn’t dare get close to her again. Not when she was happy with her family. With her mother and stepfather and half-brother. She didn’t need a guy coming around just because he was her father in a biological sense.
He’d had drink after drink all night but still made it back to the hotel by midnight. He watched the video, stared at the pictures and the chunk of cast as the minutes took him into her 7th birthday. He’d started sending letters to a P.O. Box he’d set up in a small Texas town. He couldn’t send them to her. Someday, he’d get the nerve to find a way to tell her that it was there.
He’d started keeping a journal, much the way his father had. He’d started really reading between the lines in Dad’s journal, finally understanding why his father had been so meticulous about it. He missed his father more and more. Wished he could ask for some advice from someone who had kids. Was he doing the right thing? Shannon seemed to think he wasn’t but he didn’t care what Shannon thought. She would always be a back roads Texan one-night stand to him. She just happened to be the one in however many women he’d slept with to get pregnant by him.
When Sam wandered in, he was too drunk to put anything away. Sam had been drinking. Had been wondering where Dean had gone. Was wondering why Dean was in the room alone. Then he saw the bed and all the things laid out on it. Sam had been waiting for the moment and it had taken almost three years. “Happy Birthday, Dean.”
“You already said that tonight.”
“Yeah, I know…” Sam cleared his throat. “So, what’s my niece’s name?”
“Alice Emerson-Winchester-Christopher-something.” Dean shrugged. “I don’t know what last name she goes by.”
“Were you ever going to tell me?”
“What for?” Dean shoved a fist against his burning eyes. “I can’t see her. I’m a wanted man. Who meets their daughter and then tells her that daddy’s got a criminal record and is wanted by the FBI?” He just kept getting angrier and angrier at himself. “What kind of father only meets his kid when she’s four years old and then chickens out of telling her who he really is?” He looked at his watch. “It’s her birthday now. She’s seven years old and all she knows is that her daddy was never there. That her mother says he was a devil.”
“Dean, calm down.”
“You thought Dad sucked as a dad? At least he was there for us. At least he tried. He messed up a lot but we’re alive and we miss him, damn it.”
“Dean, you’re drunk. Just… get some sleep, man.” Sam pleaded. He was too drunk to stop Dean from doing anything while he was this toasted.
Dean lay out on his crappy hotel bed with all his things scattered across it still. “Think she’ll ever forgive me? I mean, if she ever finds out about me. You think that if she finds out about what I do… that she’ll forgive me for not trying to be with her?”
“If she’s anything like you?” Sam sighed, satisfied that Dean was going to stay in his bed and not do anything stupid. “Probably forgive you more than you deserve.”
--
Sam spent the morning watching his brother carefully. He didn’t seem to want to eat, which was, of itself, odd. Sam had seen this before but now he knew the reason. “Tell the truth, was she the reason I spent all that time in Texas chasing my tail?”
“Maybe.” Barely even a smirk. He had pulled one over on Sam that time.
“Can I see her? I am her uncle. I have a right to spoil her.”
“Shannon doesn’t want me to have anything to do with Alice.”
“Alice, huh. Sweet name.” Sam nodded to himself. “Shannon?”
“Just some girl I… once. It’s stupid.” Dean bit out suddenly. “I had to have been careful. I’m always careful.” He took a deep breath to calm himself down. “She’s… I took your money and I gave it to her. I don’t know. I wrote her a letter saying it was for college. I don’t know if that’s what it’ll go for but… I had to do something.”
“I know. You did what you thought you had to. I just don’t understand why you didn’t say anything.”
“This is something you do when you’re a teenager, you know? You do something stupid that ends up fucking up your life. You don’t just make a mistake when you’re 22. I don’t.” Dean frowned into his coffee. “So, I just wanted to see her. To see what she looked like. I chickened out. She came to me and…” Dean pulled his phone out and showed it to his brother. “I took what I could.”
“She’s pretty, Dean.” Sam took his time looking the pictures over. He hadn’t had a chance to study them. “She looks like you… poor girl.”
“Yeah. She’s arrogant, too.” He nodded to his brother’s scoff. “Yeah, I know I’m vain but damn. I do look good.” He sighed heavily. “I wanted to tell you but… I was expecting more yelling.”
“It’s done, Dean. You can’t just… fix it.”
“She’s got a family. She doesn’t need me.”
“How do you know that?”
“Because. Shannon was getting married the last time we were there. Alice’s got a new dad and a brother already. I’m just a sperm donor.” He took his phone back so he could stare at her picture. “I thought about giving up, Sammy. The hunt, the whole thing. I did but… if something gets passed me… it could get her.”
“I know. She doesn’t know about what we do. She couldn’t. I wouldn’t want her to know.” Sam sighed. “Dean, she’s okay. You said it. She’s got a good life.”
“She was born before Dad died… I just… kind of wish I could have told him, you know? That’s the kind of thing you tell your dad. ‘Hey Dad, guess what? You’re a grandpa.’” Dean let himself laugh. “Could you see Dad as a grandpa?”
Sam had to laugh out loud. “‘Alice, this is a crossbow. It’s mine. You can’t touch it but you’ve got to learn to hit a beetle on an apple, you hear?’”
“He’d’ve had her packing shells before she could walk.” Dean shook his head. He really missed his father. Dean gave his brother a watery smile. “You should have talked to her. She would have made you laugh so hard and most of it at my expense.”
Sam laughed at his brother but his smile fell at the same moment Dean’s did. “You look like you’re dying, dude.”
“I feel like it. How you love someone you only knew for a few hours?” He frowned, his brows diving forward in the middle. “I’ve fucked girls for three days straight and thought nothing about it but this little girl does a hoppy dance and asks me to marry her and I’m…”
“Dude, she’s your daughter. You’re gonna have all kinds of alien and goopy feelings about it.”
“You think this is how Dad felt?” He met his brother’s eyes. “All those times he told us we had to stay behind.” Before his brother could speak, he rushed ahead. “Knowing that she’s alive and out there, it gives me these tingling feelings but knowing that I can’t be there with her, it kills me.”
“I talk a lot of shit about Dad but I loved him, Dean. I never felt I was good enough to meet his expectations. I always thought you were his favorite.”
“Dude, shut up.” Dean wiped at his eyes. “Dad didn’t have favorites. I joke about the extra cookie and shotgun rights but I was older. I sacrificed more. You are just like Dad.”
“No, I’m not.”
“Yeah. Rebellious to the bone.” He had a laugh. “He told me about his parents. Good God-fearing people. Always went to church. Always active in the community. Anti-war. Pro-college. So, Dad up and joins the Marines, goes to war, becomes a mechanic and later a gun-wielding soldier of the night. You, the soldier’s precious offspring, become everything he despises because you are so much like him. You don’t follow orders, you hate the hunt, you want to go to college.”
“You are Dad exactly. Not me.”
“Hell no. My daughter is a bastard. I know who my parents are. Dad was a one-woman man… like you. I’m fairly certain Dad visited the ladies more than once on our travels but he was a widower. He… never fell in love again so we never met any of the ladies he had.” Dean watched his brother’s face. “You and Jess… you were young. That uh… Sarah chick, in New York. She’s probably the next Mrs. Winchester, isn’t she.”
“I don’t know.”
“You party with me but you don’t take anyone home… unless we’re in New York. I try but it’s getting harder to scrounge up excuses to head that way.”
“Dude, you faked a hunt so you could check out your illegitimate offspring.”
“That was for me. I’m the oldest. It’s my right.”
“You okay, Dean?” Sam let his smile fade a bit.
“Hey, we got over the Oprah moment, let’s keep going. Don’t bitch up on me, now.” He swiped at his eyes with his sleeve just to make sure.
“You’re a jerk, man.” Sam laughed.
“It’s my trademark.” He sat back and took a slug of coffee, which he realized too late was still way too hot. Hiding his choking was simple enough but getting his voice back to normal when he spoke was impossible. It was strangled and hoarse. “So, uh, I write her letters but um… til she’s older, she won’t get them.”
“So, I can’t send her presents and spoil her from afar. I can’t just send her something.”
“I set her up a P.O. Box. Cause I don’t just carry shit with me without it getting mangled.”
“Safety deposit box.”
“Dude. I can get a P.O. Box without too many questions. Getting a safety deposit box is harder. Banks and social securities.”
“Storage units.” Sam snapped his fingers. “I buy something, I stick it in a storage unit. She gets it… whenever.”
“She’ll get creeped out if she finds out some uncle’s been buying her crap for years and sticking it in storage. If you buy her a teddy bear because she’s seven, what the hell is she going to do with that when she’s 18.”
“Dude, at least she’ll know that someone cared.” Sam shook his head at his brother. “Maybe she can’t use it but it’s proof that you didn’t just pull a fast one on her mom and never gave a shit about her.”
“How about we hold off on that stuff until I get a handle on this? Okay? I don’t know what I’m doing.”
“You’ll figure it out.” Sam picked at his breakfast and watched the misery on his brother’s face. “You would have been a good father to her.”
“You think?”
“You practically raised me.” Sam shrugged. “I turned out okay. A little fucked up but we’re Winchesters. We get fucked up with age.”
“Ain’t that the truth.” Dean muttered into his cup. “Hurry up and eat. We got a… sludge demon to kill. Sludge?”
“Close. Mire. It’s stupid. It traps its victims by manipulating the water table to form huge fields of… sludge so it’s harder to run away.” Sam shrugged. “All my research says it’s the kind you sacrifice to. Feed it in the spring so the ground retains moisture and the crops don’t suffer drought.”
“I hate cults.”
TBC
Part 4
Sam watched his brother drink. He had seemed okay when he left him at the park but something foul had crawled up his ass, had kittens and died since then. “You want to lay off the booze?”
“You’re driving. I can drink.” Dean replied, cradling his phone against his chest. “You’re cool to drive. You’re always complaining I don’t let you drive enough.”
“So, since the hunt is a bust, why don’t we pull in somewhere and you can fix the car.”
“Go to Bobby’s. I need to get out of Texas.”
“Fine. I’ll give him a call.” Sam frowned and got up to get another round of beer.
Dean listened to the voice mail again. It was a bunch of nagging and bitching about how he had no right to even see his daughter. Why did he even care? What was she supposed to do with a couple thousand dollars when what Alice really needed was a father? Dean still couldn’t place her face but that hardly mattered any more. He saved the message again then opened up his video files. She twirled and hopped on the little screen. Dean couldn’t have stopped the smile on his face for all the world. He could hear her voice in his ears. “Dean, I like you a lot. Sh. Don’t tell nobody.” He studied both pictures of her for a few minutes each. He tucked his phone back into his shirt before his brother returned.
“You and that phone gonna be married soon?”
“Right after polygamy laws are passed. The car, the phone and I will live in bliss.”
“You’re drunk.”
“Yeah… what’s your point?”
“That you’ve been acting weird for days and I want to know why.” Sam set his beer down. “I’m fairly certainly you faked clues for a hunt. I don’t believe you forgot you’d already taken care of it. What was really going on?”
“Sammy, you are up my ass 24/7. Sometimes I need my privacy… especially when I can’t run away from you.” He idly picked at his knee, trying not to ruin the cutesy artwork.
“Yeah, okay but I had over a grand in that bag before I left you alone with it.”
“Something came up.”
“Yeah and I expected rims or a new door for the Impala… not your Fort Knox impression.”
“Whatever, man. I’m tired.” Dean stole his brother’s beer and took a long swig before handing it back and forcing himself to his feet. He fell asleep in the Impala because he hoped that Sam would get the hint that he wanted to be out of town sooner rather than later. He fell asleep inhaling the smells from his T-shirt; beer, smoke and little girl.
--
Sam watched his brother do something monumentally stupid. He leapt back into the fray to rescue his phone. It had fallen out of his pocket while they were escaping the poltergeist but it was just a phone. Tired and weary, Sam fell into bed but he was so pumped full of adrenaline that he couldn’t do more than doze. He watched his brother through narrow-slit-eyes as he reverently cleaned his phone and then sat back to watch something for almost twenty minutes. Watched his brother wipe roughly at his face and rub at his eyes before carefully tucking the phone away in his bag. When Dean rose to take a shower, Sam forced himself to sit up.
It was a huge invasion of privacy. Something that Dean had been insistent on over the past couple of years. Pulling the outdated phone out of his brother’s bag, Sam studied it. It was just a phone. An old phone. Usually Dean leapt onto a new phone as soon as his credit cards were pulled for fraudulent charges. It had dents and deep scratches in it. Flipping it open, he searched the files for some clue to his brother’s recent and lasting bent toward perpetual pissiness. There were pictures of pranks, pictures of hot girls and two pictures of a little girl with a wide familiar grin. More confusing was the short video of the same little girl doing nothing but laughing and dancing in that little kid way.
The water shut off. Sam was quick to replace the phone and lay back on his bed. “Dude, you leave me some hot water?”
“In your dreams, Sammy.” Dean called back. He emerged in his shorts and lay out on his bed. He rubbed his leg and frowned. “Think it’s gonna rain tonight or in the morning?”
“Your leg bothering you?”
“It’s not cold but…” He rubbed it red. “Maybe it didn’t set right. I don’t notice it until it’s gonna rain hard.”
“Well, you did insist on running all over the country and putting your weight on it. I think you shrunk an inch.”
“Shut up… really?” Dean ran his hand through his hair, it was getting long.
“You’re really attached to that phone… you risked death today to save it.”
“Have some waitresses’ pictures on there. I like to make return trips prepared.”
“But you risked death to save it.”
“Look, Nun-boy. I like to get me some and this phone helps me do that.”
“You know… you can transfer your files onto a new phone.”
“Shit? Really?” He watched his brother’s face. “Yeah, maybe it’s time to retire this beauty.”
--
Dean pulled the hunk of cast out of the bottom of his bag. It looked like crap except for where he’d applied a coat of lacquer to preserve the artwork. Two little shaky kittens and some flowers and Alice scrawled between them. He knew that he had screwed it all up. He had put the pieces together with events from Dad’s journal and the scathing voice messages he got from Shannon, whenever she was feeling frustrated and needed to lash out at someone who deserved it.
He’d been 22 when he’d rolled into that town. He’d hooked up with a pretty brunette, while heavily intoxicated off alcohol and pain pills. He’d forgotten to use a condom or if he had, it was that 1% ineffectiveness that had struck. So the day after his 23rd birthday, a daughter was brought into the world. Green eyes and tea-blonde and every inch her father’s daughter. Whatever phone number he’d been using had been dead by the time Shannon had cried out for help. He’d managed not to get picked up in Texas for four years. Had managed to not know for four years.
Then he had to go and track her down. Then he had to write her a damned letter. Then he had to meet her. Then he’d fallen in love with her. Had let her draw silly things all over his cast. Had let her crawl all over him and right into his heart. Then he’d gone and given her the charm he’d meant for his brother. She was inside him and he couldn’t drink her out, vomit her out, hunt her out. She was stuck and she wasn’t even his. Sure, he’d lent some DNA one drunken night but he had no claim to her. When he and Sammy needed space, he took himself to Texas to watch her from afar. He didn’t dare get close to her again. Not when she was happy with her family. With her mother and stepfather and half-brother. She didn’t need a guy coming around just because he was her father in a biological sense.
He’d had drink after drink all night but still made it back to the hotel by midnight. He watched the video, stared at the pictures and the chunk of cast as the minutes took him into her 7th birthday. He’d started sending letters to a P.O. Box he’d set up in a small Texas town. He couldn’t send them to her. Someday, he’d get the nerve to find a way to tell her that it was there.
He’d started keeping a journal, much the way his father had. He’d started really reading between the lines in Dad’s journal, finally understanding why his father had been so meticulous about it. He missed his father more and more. Wished he could ask for some advice from someone who had kids. Was he doing the right thing? Shannon seemed to think he wasn’t but he didn’t care what Shannon thought. She would always be a back roads Texan one-night stand to him. She just happened to be the one in however many women he’d slept with to get pregnant by him.
When Sam wandered in, he was too drunk to put anything away. Sam had been drinking. Had been wondering where Dean had gone. Was wondering why Dean was in the room alone. Then he saw the bed and all the things laid out on it. Sam had been waiting for the moment and it had taken almost three years. “Happy Birthday, Dean.”
“You already said that tonight.”
“Yeah, I know…” Sam cleared his throat. “So, what’s my niece’s name?”
“Alice Emerson-Winchester-Christopher-something.” Dean shrugged. “I don’t know what last name she goes by.”
“Were you ever going to tell me?”
“What for?” Dean shoved a fist against his burning eyes. “I can’t see her. I’m a wanted man. Who meets their daughter and then tells her that daddy’s got a criminal record and is wanted by the FBI?” He just kept getting angrier and angrier at himself. “What kind of father only meets his kid when she’s four years old and then chickens out of telling her who he really is?” He looked at his watch. “It’s her birthday now. She’s seven years old and all she knows is that her daddy was never there. That her mother says he was a devil.”
“Dean, calm down.”
“You thought Dad sucked as a dad? At least he was there for us. At least he tried. He messed up a lot but we’re alive and we miss him, damn it.”
“Dean, you’re drunk. Just… get some sleep, man.” Sam pleaded. He was too drunk to stop Dean from doing anything while he was this toasted.
Dean lay out on his crappy hotel bed with all his things scattered across it still. “Think she’ll ever forgive me? I mean, if she ever finds out about me. You think that if she finds out about what I do… that she’ll forgive me for not trying to be with her?”
“If she’s anything like you?” Sam sighed, satisfied that Dean was going to stay in his bed and not do anything stupid. “Probably forgive you more than you deserve.”
--
Sam spent the morning watching his brother carefully. He didn’t seem to want to eat, which was, of itself, odd. Sam had seen this before but now he knew the reason. “Tell the truth, was she the reason I spent all that time in Texas chasing my tail?”
“Maybe.” Barely even a smirk. He had pulled one over on Sam that time.
“Can I see her? I am her uncle. I have a right to spoil her.”
“Shannon doesn’t want me to have anything to do with Alice.”
“Alice, huh. Sweet name.” Sam nodded to himself. “Shannon?”
“Just some girl I… once. It’s stupid.” Dean bit out suddenly. “I had to have been careful. I’m always careful.” He took a deep breath to calm himself down. “She’s… I took your money and I gave it to her. I don’t know. I wrote her a letter saying it was for college. I don’t know if that’s what it’ll go for but… I had to do something.”
“I know. You did what you thought you had to. I just don’t understand why you didn’t say anything.”
“This is something you do when you’re a teenager, you know? You do something stupid that ends up fucking up your life. You don’t just make a mistake when you’re 22. I don’t.” Dean frowned into his coffee. “So, I just wanted to see her. To see what she looked like. I chickened out. She came to me and…” Dean pulled his phone out and showed it to his brother. “I took what I could.”
“She’s pretty, Dean.” Sam took his time looking the pictures over. He hadn’t had a chance to study them. “She looks like you… poor girl.”
“Yeah. She’s arrogant, too.” He nodded to his brother’s scoff. “Yeah, I know I’m vain but damn. I do look good.” He sighed heavily. “I wanted to tell you but… I was expecting more yelling.”
“It’s done, Dean. You can’t just… fix it.”
“She’s got a family. She doesn’t need me.”
“How do you know that?”
“Because. Shannon was getting married the last time we were there. Alice’s got a new dad and a brother already. I’m just a sperm donor.” He took his phone back so he could stare at her picture. “I thought about giving up, Sammy. The hunt, the whole thing. I did but… if something gets passed me… it could get her.”
“I know. She doesn’t know about what we do. She couldn’t. I wouldn’t want her to know.” Sam sighed. “Dean, she’s okay. You said it. She’s got a good life.”
“She was born before Dad died… I just… kind of wish I could have told him, you know? That’s the kind of thing you tell your dad. ‘Hey Dad, guess what? You’re a grandpa.’” Dean let himself laugh. “Could you see Dad as a grandpa?”
Sam had to laugh out loud. “‘Alice, this is a crossbow. It’s mine. You can’t touch it but you’ve got to learn to hit a beetle on an apple, you hear?’”
“He’d’ve had her packing shells before she could walk.” Dean shook his head. He really missed his father. Dean gave his brother a watery smile. “You should have talked to her. She would have made you laugh so hard and most of it at my expense.”
Sam laughed at his brother but his smile fell at the same moment Dean’s did. “You look like you’re dying, dude.”
“I feel like it. How you love someone you only knew for a few hours?” He frowned, his brows diving forward in the middle. “I’ve fucked girls for three days straight and thought nothing about it but this little girl does a hoppy dance and asks me to marry her and I’m…”
“Dude, she’s your daughter. You’re gonna have all kinds of alien and goopy feelings about it.”
“You think this is how Dad felt?” He met his brother’s eyes. “All those times he told us we had to stay behind.” Before his brother could speak, he rushed ahead. “Knowing that she’s alive and out there, it gives me these tingling feelings but knowing that I can’t be there with her, it kills me.”
“I talk a lot of shit about Dad but I loved him, Dean. I never felt I was good enough to meet his expectations. I always thought you were his favorite.”
“Dude, shut up.” Dean wiped at his eyes. “Dad didn’t have favorites. I joke about the extra cookie and shotgun rights but I was older. I sacrificed more. You are just like Dad.”
“No, I’m not.”
“Yeah. Rebellious to the bone.” He had a laugh. “He told me about his parents. Good God-fearing people. Always went to church. Always active in the community. Anti-war. Pro-college. So, Dad up and joins the Marines, goes to war, becomes a mechanic and later a gun-wielding soldier of the night. You, the soldier’s precious offspring, become everything he despises because you are so much like him. You don’t follow orders, you hate the hunt, you want to go to college.”
“You are Dad exactly. Not me.”
“Hell no. My daughter is a bastard. I know who my parents are. Dad was a one-woman man… like you. I’m fairly certain Dad visited the ladies more than once on our travels but he was a widower. He… never fell in love again so we never met any of the ladies he had.” Dean watched his brother’s face. “You and Jess… you were young. That uh… Sarah chick, in New York. She’s probably the next Mrs. Winchester, isn’t she.”
“I don’t know.”
“You party with me but you don’t take anyone home… unless we’re in New York. I try but it’s getting harder to scrounge up excuses to head that way.”
“Dude, you faked a hunt so you could check out your illegitimate offspring.”
“That was for me. I’m the oldest. It’s my right.”
“You okay, Dean?” Sam let his smile fade a bit.
“Hey, we got over the Oprah moment, let’s keep going. Don’t bitch up on me, now.” He swiped at his eyes with his sleeve just to make sure.
“You’re a jerk, man.” Sam laughed.
“It’s my trademark.” He sat back and took a slug of coffee, which he realized too late was still way too hot. Hiding his choking was simple enough but getting his voice back to normal when he spoke was impossible. It was strangled and hoarse. “So, uh, I write her letters but um… til she’s older, she won’t get them.”
“So, I can’t send her presents and spoil her from afar. I can’t just send her something.”
“I set her up a P.O. Box. Cause I don’t just carry shit with me without it getting mangled.”
“Safety deposit box.”
“Dude. I can get a P.O. Box without too many questions. Getting a safety deposit box is harder. Banks and social securities.”
“Storage units.” Sam snapped his fingers. “I buy something, I stick it in a storage unit. She gets it… whenever.”
“She’ll get creeped out if she finds out some uncle’s been buying her crap for years and sticking it in storage. If you buy her a teddy bear because she’s seven, what the hell is she going to do with that when she’s 18.”
“Dude, at least she’ll know that someone cared.” Sam shook his head at his brother. “Maybe she can’t use it but it’s proof that you didn’t just pull a fast one on her mom and never gave a shit about her.”
“How about we hold off on that stuff until I get a handle on this? Okay? I don’t know what I’m doing.”
“You’ll figure it out.” Sam picked at his breakfast and watched the misery on his brother’s face. “You would have been a good father to her.”
“You think?”
“You practically raised me.” Sam shrugged. “I turned out okay. A little fucked up but we’re Winchesters. We get fucked up with age.”
“Ain’t that the truth.” Dean muttered into his cup. “Hurry up and eat. We got a… sludge demon to kill. Sludge?”
“Close. Mire. It’s stupid. It traps its victims by manipulating the water table to form huge fields of… sludge so it’s harder to run away.” Sam shrugged. “All my research says it’s the kind you sacrifice to. Feed it in the spring so the ground retains moisture and the crops don’t suffer drought.”
“I hate cults.”
TBC
5
Part 5
Dean didn’t mean to do it. He knew about the graduation because he’d kept up with her life. His plan had been to drop her graduation present off at the house while everyone was gone. He was going to give her the address and key to the P.O. Box a town over. He had planned to sneak into her room and leave it there where she’d find it after everything was over. He’d been waiting around the corner from the house. He had no right to even be there except that she had turned 18 the day after he’d turned 41. It was coming up. He had to take the chance that she’d want to know.
Then he’d seen her walk by with her friends, all of them in their robes, on the way to the football field for the ceremony. He’d known her right off the bat, aside from sneaking peeks over the years, just by the color of her hair. When he’d seen her toss her head back and laugh, he knew he couldn’t just take off. Sneaking in and leaving his present had been easy. No one was paying attention.
Then he’d followed them all to the field where the 100 or so graduates were gathered to do a walk over a platform, set up just for the day. It was short. There were a few awards. His daughter was an honor student; Sammy would get a kick out of that. He snapped off pictures with his digital camera, a useful gadget that had added to his journal over the years. He watched her throw her cap up in the air. Watched her run up and kiss some guy wearing glasses and who, Dean had noted, had gotten the most awards and honors of anyone in the graduating class. Well, she knew how to follow a direct order.
Feeling infinitely creepy, he followed her group to the parking lot where an infinity of pictures were snapped off of the graduates. Finally, he’d had enough self-torture and headed toward his car. He would have roared out of town if not for the fact that he had no gas and no food. He hadn’t eaten all day, he’d been focused on finding Alice.
He was chewing on a beef jerky stick while he was waiting for the Impala to fill. Then the car full of graduates pulled in. They leapt out and headed inside the convenience store/diner. Then the car with a shiny bow on its hood pulled into the pump next to his. He couldn’t help but stare. He could see everything that he couldn’t while he’d been hiding. Her hair was long and shiny. She still had his sparkling green eyes. She still had his freckles and no make up to hide them, as if she were proud of them.
“Do I know you?” She asked him. Her throaty voice far from the childish one he’d been hearing in his head for 14 years.
“No.” He shook his head and pulled his eyes away. “I didn’t mean to stare. I’m not creepy, I promise.”
“So, I don’t know you?” She tilted her head and took a step closer. “Are you sure? Have you been to town before?”
“Long time ago.” He tucked his jerky into his bag and put it in the back seat, hoping to cover the hunk of cast that he still carried with him.
“I could swear I’ve seen you before. I never forget a face.” She stepped closer, making Dean want to shrink back from her. He had 23 years on her, he had fought countless spirits, demons and monsters and still… she was the one thing that scared him in all the world.
“Sorry, angel, don’t think I know what you’re talking about.” He fished a bag of M&Ms out of his pocket to munch on while he focused on not saying too much. He sometimes hated that the Impala guzzled gas and took so long to fill up.
“How do you know that I’m not a devil? According to my mother, I’m half.” She grinned as she took a step closer. Her eyebrow shot upward in an evil peak. “Candy’s not food, mister.”
“Sure it is.” He shook out another handful. “How else am I going to get my greens?” He grinned and then popped the handful into his mouth.
“I have seen you before.” She whispered, ignoring the pop of the gas nozzle indicating her tank was full. “You were eating M&Ms and jerky then, too.” Dean went stock still and there was no way she didn’t notice. She crossed the distance between the pumps. “You told me I looked like an angel and you made me laugh all day.”
Dean swallowed down a lump in his throat. He let himself meet her eyes and when their eyes met, she seemed to confirm something about him. “So?”
“Your eyes are the same. You still smile and your eyes still cry when you do it.”
“You still talk to strangers and we had a discussion about that.” Dean grabbed the nozzle when the handle popped out and roughly went about righting his car.
“You weren’t mean back then.” She scoffed and stepped out of his way when he moved toward the convenience store to pay for his gas.
Dean felt so bad, he kept his head ducked through the walk to the store and back to the pump. He was a horrible person. He had never reacted well to being cornered. He almost made it inside the car but she grabbed his arm and caught his charm when it swung around with him. She stared at it with an incredulous expression on her face. She lifted her eyes to his. He shut his eyes. He’d almost forgotten. “I’m sorry, I lied.”
“It was you. You were the one that gave this to me.” She held out her own charm to him. “What is it?”
“It’s just a charm.”
“It’s not just a charm.” She yanked on it so he would look at her. “I spent half my life in libraries trying to figure out what this is. Have you any idea how many fights I had with my mother because I knew she was hiding something from me? How many nights I had to sneak out to use the internet just so I could find answers?” She tugged on it and stepped up to him. “What is it and why did you give it to me?”
“It’s just a protection charm.” He shrugged. “They’re rare. I’m glad you didn’t pawn it.”
“Who are you?”
“Just a dude who ended up on a park bench in ’07, with a busted leg and no appetite for the world. You made me laugh. I gave you a present.” That’s when he realized he was trapped between his car and a pint-sized version of himself. “You mind? I have work to do.”
“What do I do when I want answers?” She asked, stepping back out of his personal space. “What isn’t anyone telling me?”
“Look.” Dean stepped out of the path of the door, following her every step backward. “I was a sad, lonely dude on a park bench in the middle of nowhere. Some little kid came up and decided that I must not be too bad a person to hang out with. When I left, I was a little lonelier but a lot less sad. Okay? That’s what you did for me.” He stepped to her, trapping her against her own car. “I’ve done a lot of bad things in my life and been held accountable for most of them. This little girl came up to me with a whole lot of trust, even though I told her she shouldn’t be talking to me. She proceeded to make it her mission to make me smile.”
“So, what? You’ve been stalking me?”
“Hardly. I did wonder what happened to that sweet little girl. Turns out she turned into a bitch. Can I go now?”
“And you’re a bitter old fogey.” She told him as he turned to go. He didn’t turn back.
Dean sat in the car, shut the door and choked back a sob. He was being such a dick. He started the car to soothe his nerves. When he flicked his eyes to the rearview, she was standing right behind the Impala, her expression unreadable. Rolling down the window, he waited until she moved to stand next to his car. He didn’t look up. “Did you ever think that maybe you don’t want the answers?”
“Do you know what it’s like to grow up knowing only one of your parents?”
“Yeah. I do.” He met her gaze. “It makes you appreciate the one you do know.”
“Should it? Or make you wonder about the one who isn’t there?”
“My mother died when I was 4. It was just something I accepted. That she wouldn’t be there and there would be no replacement.”
Green eyes on green eyes. Hers started to tear up. “My daddy was a hustler. Didn’t even stick around to find out that I existed. I could pass him on the street and not know who he is. Forgive me for needing to know everything else.”
“What would you say to him if you did meet him?”
She froze, dumbfounded. She closed her eyes and let a smile cross her face. His own smile. She probably killed a hundred men a day with that smile. “Hi, Dad. I’ve been waiting. Dad, why didn’t you stay? Dad, did you even know? Am I what you thought I’d be? Dad, are you proud?” Her smile turned into a grimace as a tear slid down her face. Her eyes opened. “Was it me?”
Dean had to pinch his leg to keep the tears in his eyes. “Don’t ever think that. Forget about him. He had a choice. He made a bad one.”
“I’d forgive him, if he could admit he’d made a bad choice. Sometimes you don’t know what you’re doing. You’re just getting through one moment and the next; barely even breathing.” Dean shut his eyes to dry the wet that lingered and to let her deep twangy voice wash over him. “I made a complete stranger come back to see me.” That made him open his eyes in surprise. She looked damn proud of herself. “I know he’d love me the second he laid eyes on me. Call me naïve. I don’t care. I know it. He’d have no choice. I wouldn’t let him. If he met me, he’d remember me the rest of his life.”
“I think you’re right. I’m sorry.” Dean swallowed down a lump. “If…” He had to clear his throat. “This complete stranger is telling you that if … If I had a daughter like you, I’d be proud. Fearlessness is a good quality.”
“That’s not what my mama says. She’ll rake me over the coals for what I’m doing right now.”
“Then don’t tell her. What she doesn’t know won’t hurt her.”
“Mister, you got buckets of charm. You’re dangerous.” She leaned in and kissed his cheek. When she straightened, she smirked at his shocked expression. “Don’t worry, I’ll give you a day before I run your plates. This Podunk has a new sheriff.” She straightened an invisible hat and backed up a step. “You done caused a lot of trouble today, pilgrim… might have got somebody killed and somebody oughta teach you a lesson but I won’t. I swear I won’t.”
Dean couldn’t help himself, he laughed. It was a dead on Wayne if a bit paraphrased. “The hell I won’t,” he tossed back and she laughed. “Just don’t punch the car and we part on good terms.”
“How old are you?” She leaned on the pump and stared. “I would guess 35 by the face but 83 by the eyes.”
“41. Guess I’m doing good, huh.”
“You’re really not gonna tell me why you gave this to me?” She fingered the charm and let it fall against her chest.
“Keep researching. Maybe you’ll find out.”
“Mister, you’re impossible.”
“It’s what I’m told.” Dean put the car in gear. “Be good, Alice.”
“Hey, you remembered my name but what about yours?” She stood up from the gas pump.
“Dean.” He cleared his throat. “Winchester.”
She grinned and arched that devilish eyebrow. “‘When the man with a pistol meets a man with a Winchester, the man with a pistol is a dead man.’” She winked at him. “See you ‘round, old man.”
“See you around.” He nodded and pressed his foot to the gas. Six miles later, he let out the breath he’d been holding in a deep shudder. A mile after that, he was crying steadily on his way to meet Sam. He had to clear Texas before she got home. Had to keep his phone off until they were on the next hunt. He would keep the pictures to himself for a month before showing Sammy and never answered his phone when a Texas area code popped up. Always let it go to voicemail. Always saved the angry and pleading messages. Wondered if his father had done the same.
THE END
ENDNOTE: I do kind of have a sequel to this but I can't promise anything will come of it as I'm still working out format and balancing it out with my drive to write it when I've got so many other fics in the works.
Dean didn’t mean to do it. He knew about the graduation because he’d kept up with her life. His plan had been to drop her graduation present off at the house while everyone was gone. He was going to give her the address and key to the P.O. Box a town over. He had planned to sneak into her room and leave it there where she’d find it after everything was over. He’d been waiting around the corner from the house. He had no right to even be there except that she had turned 18 the day after he’d turned 41. It was coming up. He had to take the chance that she’d want to know.
Then he’d seen her walk by with her friends, all of them in their robes, on the way to the football field for the ceremony. He’d known her right off the bat, aside from sneaking peeks over the years, just by the color of her hair. When he’d seen her toss her head back and laugh, he knew he couldn’t just take off. Sneaking in and leaving his present had been easy. No one was paying attention.
Then he’d followed them all to the field where the 100 or so graduates were gathered to do a walk over a platform, set up just for the day. It was short. There were a few awards. His daughter was an honor student; Sammy would get a kick out of that. He snapped off pictures with his digital camera, a useful gadget that had added to his journal over the years. He watched her throw her cap up in the air. Watched her run up and kiss some guy wearing glasses and who, Dean had noted, had gotten the most awards and honors of anyone in the graduating class. Well, she knew how to follow a direct order.
Feeling infinitely creepy, he followed her group to the parking lot where an infinity of pictures were snapped off of the graduates. Finally, he’d had enough self-torture and headed toward his car. He would have roared out of town if not for the fact that he had no gas and no food. He hadn’t eaten all day, he’d been focused on finding Alice.
He was chewing on a beef jerky stick while he was waiting for the Impala to fill. Then the car full of graduates pulled in. They leapt out and headed inside the convenience store/diner. Then the car with a shiny bow on its hood pulled into the pump next to his. He couldn’t help but stare. He could see everything that he couldn’t while he’d been hiding. Her hair was long and shiny. She still had his sparkling green eyes. She still had his freckles and no make up to hide them, as if she were proud of them.
“Do I know you?” She asked him. Her throaty voice far from the childish one he’d been hearing in his head for 14 years.
“No.” He shook his head and pulled his eyes away. “I didn’t mean to stare. I’m not creepy, I promise.”
“So, I don’t know you?” She tilted her head and took a step closer. “Are you sure? Have you been to town before?”
“Long time ago.” He tucked his jerky into his bag and put it in the back seat, hoping to cover the hunk of cast that he still carried with him.
“I could swear I’ve seen you before. I never forget a face.” She stepped closer, making Dean want to shrink back from her. He had 23 years on her, he had fought countless spirits, demons and monsters and still… she was the one thing that scared him in all the world.
“Sorry, angel, don’t think I know what you’re talking about.” He fished a bag of M&Ms out of his pocket to munch on while he focused on not saying too much. He sometimes hated that the Impala guzzled gas and took so long to fill up.
“How do you know that I’m not a devil? According to my mother, I’m half.” She grinned as she took a step closer. Her eyebrow shot upward in an evil peak. “Candy’s not food, mister.”
“Sure it is.” He shook out another handful. “How else am I going to get my greens?” He grinned and then popped the handful into his mouth.
“I have seen you before.” She whispered, ignoring the pop of the gas nozzle indicating her tank was full. “You were eating M&Ms and jerky then, too.” Dean went stock still and there was no way she didn’t notice. She crossed the distance between the pumps. “You told me I looked like an angel and you made me laugh all day.”
Dean swallowed down a lump in his throat. He let himself meet her eyes and when their eyes met, she seemed to confirm something about him. “So?”
“Your eyes are the same. You still smile and your eyes still cry when you do it.”
“You still talk to strangers and we had a discussion about that.” Dean grabbed the nozzle when the handle popped out and roughly went about righting his car.
“You weren’t mean back then.” She scoffed and stepped out of his way when he moved toward the convenience store to pay for his gas.
Dean felt so bad, he kept his head ducked through the walk to the store and back to the pump. He was a horrible person. He had never reacted well to being cornered. He almost made it inside the car but she grabbed his arm and caught his charm when it swung around with him. She stared at it with an incredulous expression on her face. She lifted her eyes to his. He shut his eyes. He’d almost forgotten. “I’m sorry, I lied.”
“It was you. You were the one that gave this to me.” She held out her own charm to him. “What is it?”
“It’s just a charm.”
“It’s not just a charm.” She yanked on it so he would look at her. “I spent half my life in libraries trying to figure out what this is. Have you any idea how many fights I had with my mother because I knew she was hiding something from me? How many nights I had to sneak out to use the internet just so I could find answers?” She tugged on it and stepped up to him. “What is it and why did you give it to me?”
“It’s just a protection charm.” He shrugged. “They’re rare. I’m glad you didn’t pawn it.”
“Who are you?”
“Just a dude who ended up on a park bench in ’07, with a busted leg and no appetite for the world. You made me laugh. I gave you a present.” That’s when he realized he was trapped between his car and a pint-sized version of himself. “You mind? I have work to do.”
“What do I do when I want answers?” She asked, stepping back out of his personal space. “What isn’t anyone telling me?”
“Look.” Dean stepped out of the path of the door, following her every step backward. “I was a sad, lonely dude on a park bench in the middle of nowhere. Some little kid came up and decided that I must not be too bad a person to hang out with. When I left, I was a little lonelier but a lot less sad. Okay? That’s what you did for me.” He stepped to her, trapping her against her own car. “I’ve done a lot of bad things in my life and been held accountable for most of them. This little girl came up to me with a whole lot of trust, even though I told her she shouldn’t be talking to me. She proceeded to make it her mission to make me smile.”
“So, what? You’ve been stalking me?”
“Hardly. I did wonder what happened to that sweet little girl. Turns out she turned into a bitch. Can I go now?”
“And you’re a bitter old fogey.” She told him as he turned to go. He didn’t turn back.
Dean sat in the car, shut the door and choked back a sob. He was being such a dick. He started the car to soothe his nerves. When he flicked his eyes to the rearview, she was standing right behind the Impala, her expression unreadable. Rolling down the window, he waited until she moved to stand next to his car. He didn’t look up. “Did you ever think that maybe you don’t want the answers?”
“Do you know what it’s like to grow up knowing only one of your parents?”
“Yeah. I do.” He met her gaze. “It makes you appreciate the one you do know.”
“Should it? Or make you wonder about the one who isn’t there?”
“My mother died when I was 4. It was just something I accepted. That she wouldn’t be there and there would be no replacement.”
Green eyes on green eyes. Hers started to tear up. “My daddy was a hustler. Didn’t even stick around to find out that I existed. I could pass him on the street and not know who he is. Forgive me for needing to know everything else.”
“What would you say to him if you did meet him?”
She froze, dumbfounded. She closed her eyes and let a smile cross her face. His own smile. She probably killed a hundred men a day with that smile. “Hi, Dad. I’ve been waiting. Dad, why didn’t you stay? Dad, did you even know? Am I what you thought I’d be? Dad, are you proud?” Her smile turned into a grimace as a tear slid down her face. Her eyes opened. “Was it me?”
Dean had to pinch his leg to keep the tears in his eyes. “Don’t ever think that. Forget about him. He had a choice. He made a bad one.”
“I’d forgive him, if he could admit he’d made a bad choice. Sometimes you don’t know what you’re doing. You’re just getting through one moment and the next; barely even breathing.” Dean shut his eyes to dry the wet that lingered and to let her deep twangy voice wash over him. “I made a complete stranger come back to see me.” That made him open his eyes in surprise. She looked damn proud of herself. “I know he’d love me the second he laid eyes on me. Call me naïve. I don’t care. I know it. He’d have no choice. I wouldn’t let him. If he met me, he’d remember me the rest of his life.”
“I think you’re right. I’m sorry.” Dean swallowed down a lump. “If…” He had to clear his throat. “This complete stranger is telling you that if … If I had a daughter like you, I’d be proud. Fearlessness is a good quality.”
“That’s not what my mama says. She’ll rake me over the coals for what I’m doing right now.”
“Then don’t tell her. What she doesn’t know won’t hurt her.”
“Mister, you got buckets of charm. You’re dangerous.” She leaned in and kissed his cheek. When she straightened, she smirked at his shocked expression. “Don’t worry, I’ll give you a day before I run your plates. This Podunk has a new sheriff.” She straightened an invisible hat and backed up a step. “You done caused a lot of trouble today, pilgrim… might have got somebody killed and somebody oughta teach you a lesson but I won’t. I swear I won’t.”
Dean couldn’t help himself, he laughed. It was a dead on Wayne if a bit paraphrased. “The hell I won’t,” he tossed back and she laughed. “Just don’t punch the car and we part on good terms.”
“How old are you?” She leaned on the pump and stared. “I would guess 35 by the face but 83 by the eyes.”
“41. Guess I’m doing good, huh.”
“You’re really not gonna tell me why you gave this to me?” She fingered the charm and let it fall against her chest.
“Keep researching. Maybe you’ll find out.”
“Mister, you’re impossible.”
“It’s what I’m told.” Dean put the car in gear. “Be good, Alice.”
“Hey, you remembered my name but what about yours?” She stood up from the gas pump.
“Dean.” He cleared his throat. “Winchester.”
She grinned and arched that devilish eyebrow. “‘When the man with a pistol meets a man with a Winchester, the man with a pistol is a dead man.’” She winked at him. “See you ‘round, old man.”
“See you around.” He nodded and pressed his foot to the gas. Six miles later, he let out the breath he’d been holding in a deep shudder. A mile after that, he was crying steadily on his way to meet Sam. He had to clear Texas before she got home. Had to keep his phone off until they were on the next hunt. He would keep the pictures to himself for a month before showing Sammy and never answered his phone when a Texas area code popped up. Always let it go to voicemail. Always saved the angry and pleading messages. Wondered if his father had done the same.
THE END
ENDNOTE: I do kind of have a sequel to this but I can't promise anything will come of it as I'm still working out format and balancing it out with my drive to write it when I've got so many other fics in the works.
Damn muses!
I thought I was doing really well on doin the sequel and then the bottom fell out on the inspiration and about a month ago, I got this really long and not over wordy fb and now I feel like I've gone about the sequel all wrong and I might want to start over on it but I miss some moments that other way... sigh... I could probably do without them and challenge myself to be more creative in reinventing them but I haven't given up on doing the sequel though now I'm thinking that it's not wholly in Alice's POV or at all but with her... input... I don't know. .. BLAH