Weep No More Pro-Epilogue 4/10 (SPN, MATURE, Dean) COMPLETE

[DMartinez]

Author: DMartinez
Email: shockerdm@icqmail.com
Disclaimer: Characters belong to Kripke and the WB, CW. No infringement intended.
Rating: ADULT (Sexual Situations, Vulgar Language, and Violence)
Category: Supernatural
Summary: Sequel to One Night.

Weep No More

It was a bar. Another one in a long line of bars that Dean Winchester had been inside since he was 15 years old. Slapping a twenty on the bar top, he motioned to the tap and pulled out his cell phone. The photos were corrupted by age but despite the digitization, he could see her face. Four years old and the love of his life. Tucking the phone away, he took a pull on his beer. Sam dropped onto a seat next to him. “So… where to next?”

“Dude, can I enjoy my beer?”

“Can I get one of those?” Sam tapped the bar. “It’s on him.”

“Why?” Dean snapped at him.

“Cause I’m forty today, Dean, and I don’t want to pay for my own beer tonight.”

“No, you’re not, your birthday’s not til… wait…” Dean ticked off the days since the last he could remember. “Holy shit… sorry, man. Happy Birthday, Sammy.”

“For the last time, the name’s Sam. Sam. I’m forty. My name is Sam.”

“Whatever, dude. Go get some tail and have a middle-aged crisis or something.” Dean waved him off and opened his phone. If he had listened to the message earlier, he could have surprised Sam for his birthday but he’d been putting the message off for three days.

“Hey Dean, it’s Alice. I was just… calling because I know it’s Uncle Sam’s birthday on the 2nd and thought maybe it might be nice to wish him a happy one. It’s a milestone, right? He’s… forty or something. Anyway… I’ll be out of school for summer in a few weeks. Got finals coming up. Supposed to graduate next year. I’m not going home this summer. I know you don’t come visit anymore but… just in case.”

Dean bowed his head as he listened to her voice. That cool Texan twang washing over his senses as she took out her frustration on him.

“I don’t even know if you listen to these messages. The last three years have been… weird. Knowing that I’ve met the man who fathered me but he couldn’t tell me to my face. Just… ran off, leaving me with cryptic games and some gadgets. I don’t even know anything about you except you think jerky and peanut M&M’s are food and classic rock is your poison of choice. Classic… more like vintage. Old and dusty and all of those guys are dead and buried.”

He cleared his throat and concentrated on her words. “I’m not pissed anymore, old man. I think I’m over it so… just… pass on the message.”

Sam stared at his brother as he took a pull on his beer. “What’s up?”

Dean hit the button to replay. “This is a one-time deal.” He held the phone out to his brother. Sam put the phone to his ear and suddenly understood. He managed a smile at the girl’s well wishes and her frustration with the same Winchester that he’d often had frustrations with.

Sam handed the phone back and thought about the phone calls he’d gotten that morning from his own kids, safely tucked away with their mother who he never saw anymore. One job with his brother had shattered his life which had been approaching normal for once. FBI had them on the run. Technology was going to kick their asses someday if the forces of evil didn’t.

“What?” Dean growled as he pocketed the phone.

“You should call her. Make that my birthday present. I want you to talk to your daughter and tell her why you can’t be the father she wanted.”

“Okay, Oprah.”

“Oprah?” The bartender frowned.

“Watch a DVD, you dumbass.” Dean sneered at the kid until he went away.

“I’m serious, you should call her. It’s not healthy for a kid to have issues with their parents… that’s how we got fucked up.”

“How about you save these golden nuggets for your own kids, huh?”

“Dean.”

“Drink your damn beer, it cost six bucks… fuckin’ inflation.” Dean laid another twenty on the bar. “I expect to get every beer I paid for and then you can keep the tip.”

“Generous…”

“You kidding me? You’re gonna drink one more and be drooling on the bar.” Dean turned in his seat to face the room and snorted. “Geez… you’re forty. I thought that was gonna make me feel old and then I saw that.”

“What?” Sam let him change the subject just because it was easier not to fight Dean these days. He turned to look over the bar. It looked just like any other bar he’d been inside with his brother. “What?”

“That ass there is 18 years old. When was the last time you were able to pick up 18 year old ass?”

“I’ll bite. When was the last time you picked up an 18 year old, man?” Sam watched his brother think back.

“Back in ’17. I picked up a barely legal. The next year, they raised the age of majority. Remember that shit?”

“Isn’t that when you turned 40?”

“Shut up. I wasn’t 40 yet. Anyway, my point is… that’s also the year that it started grossing me out.”

“You… grossed out by 18 year old girls who lowered their standards enough to let you grope them in a bar parking lot.” Sam snorted.

“Alice turned 21 this year, Sam. About five years ago, I realized that if I were to sleep with girls that young… I would be old enough to be their father.”

“Are you maturing in your old age, Dean?”

“Bite your tongue.” But he was grinning anyway. He looked at his brother. “What’d Sarah say this morning?”

“You… never mind.” Sam shook his head. “Said if I make it home by birthday 41 that I still have a bed but… if I take much longer than that… I have to look for a new mailing address.”

“Guess I better get you home, then.”

“You know I can’t go home.”

“They want my ass, not yours.”

“I’m guilty by association and you know it.”

“She’s the best thing that ever happened to you… and I kind of feel like seeing the rug rats.”

“You’re so damaged.”

“Takes one to know one, champ.” Dean took a long pull on his third beer and noted that Sam was still wussily sipping his first. “We’ll pull a few more hunts and then we’ll swing through.”

“Yeah. Okay.”

--

Dean dialed her number while Sam was in the shower. It was now or never. Her answering machine picked up and he was never so grateful. “Hey Alice… this is Dean. Sorry, I missed you,” he lied. “You can thank your uncle and his positive influence on my waywardness. I’m still alive. I get the phone calls and I assume that you get my letters. I kind of feel like I did both times you cornered me. I just… don’t know what to say except that I’m glad you’re alive. If a piece of me is out there, I’m glad that it’s in someone like you.” He took a deep breath. “Be good, Alice.”

TBC

[DMartinez]

Part 1

Dean went through the motions of hunting. It was rote by now. Ol’ Yellow Eyes was gone but Dean Winchester had never been sane enough to give up the hunt. Nothing as exciting as the Yellow-Eyed son of a bitch who had ruined his life when he was four years old. Every demon since had either had the sense to stay out of his way or was dumb enough to fall into his crosshairs. So, he often found his mind wandering as he ducked flying objects or crept around corners, hoping that his knees weren’t creaking too much.

“So, I’d like to think you’re the kind of father that I could say anything to and it wouldn’t faze you so, I’m just gonna start talking. The morning after graduation, I stumbled in around 3. The witching hour as they call it. I always have this need to be in my own bed by 3:30. Anyway, stinking drunk… sticky from… a few rolls in the hay with my boyfriend. Somehow made it to my room to pass out without waking up Christopher, that’s my stepdad, or Toby, my little brother, and just… crashed. And if you’re wondering, yes, I’ve been drinking tonight.”

Dean swung his body into a room and ran the flashlight over the walls. The damned sigil was here and he was going to tear it off the wall and burn it.

“I woke up with a laptop in my arms. Apparently a gift that I hadn’t opened. I thanked Christopher for it and he freaked out. Then my mom freaked out. Then they started talking and nothing made any sense and then Mom… she finally tells me my father’s name. I had never thought to ask to see my birth certificate. I never thought to insist on knowing and then when I did… and I put it together with the asshole at the gas station. I was devastated. I had wasted my chance to tell you off.”

Dean dropped his weary body into the Impala and wished he had a vice that was easy to carry around without getting busted by the cops. Smoking was only legal in one state anymore. Drinking was only in bars unless you could find the right people with the right connections. Weed was fucking everywhere but he never got into that. What dumbass legalized weed but banned tobacco?

“I got the trust fund. It let me go to my first choice college instead of my fifth. When’d you start that thing? The balance is like… wow. Even if you’d been saving for me to go when you found out about me… tuition and inflation. Wow, man. Restraint. Is there a monster inheritance too?”

When Dean arrived at Sarah’s, the lights were still on downstairs and he could hear the high-pitched giggles of his niece. He snuck in but they knew he was there. The Impala had announced his arrival. Sam grinned up at him from where he was human jungle gym for Samuel Winchester Jr. Little Madeline Winchester ran up to her uncle Dean and demanded kisses.

“So… This is all stuff I’ve said before. Cause we’ve been doing this letter and phone tag for three years and… I’m gonna graduate next spring and I… Dammit, Dean! I’m drunk and it’s your fault.”

“Maddy!” Dean kissed her cheeks and swung the five-year-old around. “How’s my girl?”

“Uncle Dean! Daddy’s home!” She pointed to her father.

“Uncle Dean! Watch this!” Sammy called out and looked up at his father. Sam gripped the boy’s hands and let Sammy do his thing. He ran up his father’s legs and flipped over to land on his feet again. “Did you see?”

“Regular Glenn McCuen.” Dean whistled but nearly choked when Sarah laughed.

“You know who Glenn McCuen is?”

“What.” Dean glared at her. “He was a very talented athlete.”

“Yes, he was but I didn’t know you were into gymnasts, Dean.” She grinned as she rose from the carpet to greet her brother-in-law. “How was the hunt?”

“Pie… and speaking of… Marta still work for you?” Dean tilted his head at her.

“Yes and she saved you some. I’m beginning to think that she thinks you’re the boss.” She pinched his belly. “Everything is Mr. Dean this and Mr. Dean that.”

“Mr. Dean! Tehát jó -hoz lát ön újra.” Marta smiled broadly as she entered the den with the tray of hot chocolate for the kids.

“Marta, szerelmem, legyen szíves mondja meg hogyan van pástétom.” Dean grinned at her. She pinched his cheek and nodded. “Awesome.”

“You wait. I will bring it.” Her smile grew broader when Dean was visibly impressed with her English. “Mrs. Sarah teaches me slowly. No worry. We still have our private talk.” She patted his cheek and went back into the kitchen.

“Wow. And she said she’d never learn English.” Dean nodded to Sarah. “Good job.”

“I ran your name today. Just a stupid search engine. I put your name in and hit enter and the things that popped up. I… I’m speechless. Did you really do all the things they say you’ve done? The FBI says that you’re armed and dangerous and that anyone who has had any contact with you is to contact the proper authorities immediately and not to approach for personal safety. It says that about the man who shares my DNA.”

Dean pushed aside the empty pie pan and grinned at Sarah when she shook her head at him. Sam rolled his eyes and got up to deposit his sleeping daughter in her bed. Sarah sipped her coffee. “How can you eat so much, be so old and still not gain any weight?”

“A childhood of malnutrition.”

“I’m still convinced that you have four stomachs like a cow.”

“Well, I was born near Stull.” Dean chuckled. “So, did I get him home in time to meet your deadline?”

She sighed and shook her head at him. “I wasn’t serious about leaving him. When are you going to settle down? I know half a dozen cougars who would eat you up and leave you their money when you’ve serviced them to death.”

“Wow. That is tempting.” Dean snorted and then laughed out loud. “Cougars. Did I ever tell you about the time Sam-“

“Yes and I don’t want to hear it again.” She rose with her empty cup and kissed Dean’s head. “Marta made up the guestroom for you. Be here for breakfast or she’ll be heartbroken.”

“It was kind of cool to say that my dad was a hustler. It was kind of romantic. I can’t say that my biological father is wanted for murder and fraud and kidnapping. It’s not who I am. How can I be part of someone who could do things like that?”

TBC

[DMartinez]

Part 2

Dean woke with an eight-year-old boy staring at him. “Morning, Uncle Dean.”

“Heya, Sammy Too.”

“How come you always call me that?”

“I call your daddy Sammy. And you’re little Sammy Too.” Sammy wrinkled his nose at that but shrugged. Dean ruffled his hair and sat up in the bed. One thing about staying at Sam’s house, the sheets were always awesome to sleep in.

“Marta made waffles.”

“Waffles… with chocolate sauce?”

“And strawberries. She says you gotta come to the kitchen to eat with us like a real person.”

“Well, then, I guess I better get to the kitchen.” Dean got up and followed Sammy Too to the kitchen where Sarah was reading the newspaper and Sammy One was listening to a long winded story from his daughter. It was so freakin’ normal that Dean almost gagged. He really missed the backseat of the Impala as a bed or a dingy set of sheets with questionable stains. Then the smell of waffles hit his nose. Oh but the road did not have Marta the Hungarian waffle-making mistress.

“Heard you were gonna hit on ladies your own age, now.” Sarah cleared her throat but didn’t look up from her paper.

“Who told you that lie?” Dean snorted.

“What was that whole thing about couple of months back?” Sam covered his daughter’s ears.

“That was me feeling old. If I can get a 20-year-old, I will.”

“Liar.” Sam shook his head. “Al—“ He stopped at Dean’s glare. Dean didn’t glare that way often. “So, now I can’t even say her name?”

“Eat your freakin’ waffles, Sammy.”

--

Sam found Dean in the backyard that afternoon with his headphones on but no music coming out of them. “Dean, what’s going on?”

“Nothing.”

“Nothing. So you’re being an asshole for no reason at all.” Sam stared at his brother but at 44, he was just as immature as he was at 22. “So, what’s going on with Alice? You never talk about her and when you do, it’s a federal case. I didn’t know she was a no-fly zone.”

Dean sat up and brushed the grass from his hair. He took a long breath. “She found out… about my record with the feds.”

“Didn’t take it well, huh.”

“Well, you know. She just found out my name a few years ago and then she finds out I’m a serial killer, a thief and a fraud.”

“Sorry, dude.”

“It’s not like I can tell her the truth cause that’s not much better.”

“I’m gonna leave to your shame… but remember that I’m the brooder in the family so… leave me my title.”

--

Dean cleared his throat and dialed the number. She never answered the phone in the middle of the day during the week. He waited for the beep. “I kind of don’t know what to say to you that won’t make you hate me more than you already do. I just want you to know that… all the things they said I did, they didn’t happen the way they said they did. There were circumstances that I can’t really explain. I’m not a bad person, really. You wondered why I stayed away after we first met. My life and the things I’ve done and the things I’m accused of doing are why. I can’t really defend myself. I’m sorry.”

--

Maddy swung her feet and tilted her head at her uncle. “How come you never answer your phone when it rings that song that Daddy hates?”

Dean shrugged and turned off the ringer.

“You’re a real asshole, you know that? You can’t have a conversation with me? You have to leave a message on the machine?” Her sobs were loud on the line. “How do I reconcile that in my head? You didn’t do it. Neither did any of the inmates at Huntsville. God, Dean… what am I supposed to believe?”

Dean soaked up the Winchester Family Values tour for a whole week before he was so nauseated and bored that he couldn’t stand it anymore. He loved the kids. Taught them all sorts of bad habits to remember him by. Put up with Sarah’s loving nature and her ardent will to see him settled with a wife or at least a sugar-cougar. Watched Sammy and Sammy Too having a great time reacquainting. Little Maddy bouncing off the walls.

Maybe it was the guilt but Dean couldn’t sit still anymore. He said goodbye to the munchkins, took a pie from Marta and set to the road. He only felt marginally better when he was killing something evil or making the feds look a little stupid.

Bitterly, he paid for his candy, jerky and coffee at the first pit stop. He’d heard the lecture before about real food but what was a road trip without the essentials? So he drove with his ghosts. Dad’s advice whispering in the leather seats. Sammy’s bitch-face from the side view. Bobby’s bouts of almost-fatherliness from the driver’s side. God, how Dean missed that old codger. His phone rang eight times between New York and New Mexico. He watched the sun rise on the third day over the Grand Canyon. He waited until it was noon in Austin before he dialed her number.

“Someday… you should drive to the Grand Canyon with that boyfriend of yours. Make sure you arrive in time for sundown cause it’s beautiful. Make sure you make love all night and watch the sun rise cause it’s breathtaking.” He’d beat himself up plenty over the last three days. “I’m not a good guy. Never tried to pretend I was… except for one day, sitting in a park, with a busted leg and a beautiful little girl for company.”

He sat on top of his car all day. He thought about doing the Skywalk but the thought of nothing but glass beneath his feet was frightening. He walked a line for the local sheriff who thought he was drunk. He flashed a fake ID and moved on after sunset. Then he found a bar and got drunk… and he answered his phone but he couldn’t say a word.

“Grand Canyon, huh? Pretty nice? … I see how it is… can’t speak to me unless I don’t know who you are… Okay but I’ve got you on the line and I don’t even know how I managed that. So, what’s the big bad reason that my dad is such a badass?” She sniffed. Her words were slurred. She’d been drinking, too. “Why did my mom think you were a hustler? Why do the cops think that you’re a murderer? Why won’t you talk to me?”

“Alice, I’m only gonna say this once. Call New York and get a listing for your uncle.” Dean hung up and grabbed his things. He was in Colorado by dawn.

--

Dean was drunk, again, but with pen and paper and the words were just flowing in the script that his father had taught him. Tight, legible, efficient.

Dear Alice,

I listen to your voicemails. Over and over. There was a time when my dad didn’t take my phone calls. There wasn’t a fight. Just went silent on me. I’d call and leave a voice message. Ask how he was, give him an update on me and Sammy. Wait for a response that he wouldn’t give. I feel bad when the phone rings and I know it’s you. I want to answer it. I’m afraid to. I’m an old guy and not much scares me anymore. Talking to you scares me. Aside from my mother, you’re the only woman that I can be certain that I love.

If I talk to you, I might cave to one of your demands to see me. I might give up this life to share yours. You’re an adult now and you don’t really want me around if you think about it. I’ll cramp your style. I’ll scare off potential boyfriends or lovers. I can pray you won’t go the same route I did but with the life I lived, it’s a possibility that you could too.

It’s not that I don’t want to see you but my life is dangerous. It was too dangerous when I was growing up and it’s still dangerous. Any letter I write to you could be my last and you would never know. I want you to do one thing for me. I’ll make sure there’s a document somewhere on me that says when I die that my only child will have the right to my belongings and will be in charge of my cremation. I’ll leave instructions to that.

You don’t know it but you’ve been my best friend for years. I tell you my thoughts and observations pretty much unfiltered. Any advice I give to you is useful and because I could have used it myself.

Dean Winchester

He signed the letter and put a stamp on it and put it with all the others that he would mail when he remembered. Then he jumped back into the routine.

--

Friday night, the Impala rolled into a motel parking lot. He booked a single. He dropped his bags in the room and went for a drink down the block. There were a few old codgers fiddling with the cigarettes that they couldn’t light and drinking whiskey. He set himself at the bar and got the bartender talking. Found a lead on a job. He caught the eye of a thirtyish waitress and screwed her in the alley. He fell into bed and woke at the crack of brunch. He hit the library, did the research and went back to the room to prepare. He set out at 11, dug, salt and burned. Went back to the motel. Slept. Woke up, packed his things and drove until his foot fell asleep.

TBC

[DMartinez]

Part 3

Dean stopped answering his phone altogether. He got his voicemails but one ran into another. Bottles blurred state lines. Staying ahead of evil and the FBI was the only thing driving him. He knew it was a downward spiral. He knew that it would get him killed. He’d never call this life easy. Every single hunt could be his last because it took only one mistake, one moment of hesitation at the wrong moment.

--

Dean stumbled into the room and grabbed the bottle from his duffel and chugged. He went out to the bar when that bottle was empty. He was stewed and he knew it but the alcohol still had a ways to go to burn off the adrenaline and fear. Mostly fear.

The nearest warm body that would take him home. That’s all he needed to get the poison out of his system. The adrenaline fizzled out while she was on top of him. The movement of their bodies made him nauseous. It took all his strength to get her off so that she could move and he could get to the bathroom and vomit up everything he’d drunk and eaten in the last two days.

The bottle blond kicked him out the minute he’d cleaned himself up. It was just as well, he wouldn’t want to wake up next to that anyway. Stumbling his way back to the motel, he felt nothing but cold and empty.

--

One week in who knows where. Dean shacked up with an okay-looking waitress who’d had her kids young and had them run away young as well. She was a brunette with a little silver in her hair. Let Dean eat her food and drink her booze so long as he fixed her car and made her come a few times a night.

Dean wandered around the little apartment to look at the pictures of little boys and a girl. They all looked like their mother. Lawanda just sipped her coffee at the table. “Roberta. She’s still in town. Married to a lowlife and won’t speak to me.”

“Pretty girl.”

“Yep. Tony and Gerald both run off to LA… heard Tony’s in Seattle, now. Both doing okay.” She eyed him. “You got kids?”

“Daughter in college.” He shrugged.

“Wow, straight and narrow, huh. Here I thought you were one of my kind.”

“Only met her twice.”

“Ah, the catch, I should have waited.”

“I think she kind of hates me.” Dean pulled his phone out and frowned. “She hasn’t called me in a while.”

“They will turn on you.” She laughed to herself. When she laughed that way, Dean could see the young woman she must have been. Soft smiles and flirting over the counter top. “Got any pictures?”

“No.” He lied. “Looks like me, though… Poor girl.”

“If she’s half as pretty as her daddy, then she’s a heart breaker.”

Dean knew that tone of voice. Lawanda was getting attached. He opened his mouth to say something but he spotted the little girl from next door. She was sitting in the gutter again. She had told him that there was a monster in her room at night. Dean had done his best to find out but nothing in the building or on her family suggested monsters or ghosts. He nearly started when he realized that Lawanda was standing next to him, watching little Jenny. “You know her?”

“Yeah, I know her.” Lawanda nodded, wrapping an arm around his waist and hooking her chin on his shoulder. “I heard she told you about the monster in her room.”

“She tell a lot of people about it?”

“Nah… Just a few… but not one of us can do a damn thing without any proof.” He tilted his head at that then turned to face her. “Dean, it’s not a monster from stories. I would bet my life that that little girl’s monster is her father.”

Dean saw red. He went deaf. Full on spaced it. The next thing he knew, he was standing on Jenny’s father’s neck with a gun pointed between his eyes. “If you ever touch that girl again, you will see me again. If you can’t keep your hands off her, you take that girl next door to Lawanda and you disappear or I swear to all I hold holy that I will know if you ever touch another little girl again and I will be there to end you.”

Dean left the building and went to a bar. When he had drowned all the anger and hatred that he could, he went back to Lawanda’s to get his things. Lawanda was sitting up at the kitchen table. No coffee. No beer. She picked at a napkin for about ten minutes before she looked up at him with tears in her eyes. “What did you do?”

“What are you talking about?”

“You stormed out of here and I heard a scuffle. Then I didn’t hear nothing for a long time. Then Jenny tells me that her daddy’s gone and she’s all by herself.” She stared at him with a look he’d known most of his life. “I got her here with me for tonight… I want you to tell me what you did with him.”

“Well, I didn’t kill him if that’s what you think. I should have but I didn’t. I let the rat bastard live. You just… take care of her like she was yours.” Dean walked past her to the bedroom to begin collecting his things. Jenny was curled around a pillow, sleeping peacefully. She was a pretty little girl. She opened her eyes when she felt him staring at her. “I was just leaving, Jenny. Go back to sleep.”

“It’s okay. No monsters in L-wanda’s house.” Jenny shut her eyes and went back to sleep. Dean sat on the edge of the bed to watch her sleep. To brush the hair out of her face. To pull the covers over her shoulder. He never even felt Lawanda enter the room.

“You would have made a great dad, Dean. That girl don’t know what she missed out on.” She ran her hands through his hair.

“Yeah, she does. Her stepdad was pretty great, I guess.”

“I thought you had killed him. He deserved it but I don’t know that I like sharing beds with killers.” She whispered to him. “So… what? Now you’re leaving me with her and we’re never going to see you again.”

“Probably.”

“Is it worth it? What you’re running from?” She cupped his face in her hands. “I don’t believe in marriage these days but I think I could treat you right. Make us a little family. You, me and the girl. Is staying here with me so terrible that you’d rather wander around for the rest of your life?”

“No. Wouldn’t be terrible.” Dean shook his head. “My sister-in-law would pay you money to make me stay but even she knows that I have to go. That asshole is gone tonight. Drinking off his shame but when he comes to, he’s calling the cops out on me. They’re gonna know I was here and I do no one any good locked up in a cell for the rest of my natural life. So, tomorrow, bright and early. You talk to her and you make her understand that she has to tell the CPS agent the truth.”

“It’s DFS in this state.”

“Whatever. You just make sure he never gets her back.” Dean stood up, allowed himself one last kiss, one last hug and walked out of her apartment. He didn’t stop driving for two days. Then he crashed into a motel bed that smelled like mothballs and didn’t wake up for another two days.

TBC

[DMartinez]

Part 4

A week after the Jenny fiasco, Dean couldn’t tell anyone where he was. He was utterly lost and unfortunately he did know the state he was in. There were cowboy hats and green pastures and big belt buckles. Yeah, he was in Texas. Where in Texas? Who the hell knew? He could probably go town to town, hunting and never run out of places to hunt or towns to visit in Texas. There were scores of bars and who could beat a state full of drive-thru liquor stores, broken down asylums and haunted penitentiaries. Of course, there were several parties in his immediate vicinity who were armed and could arrest him or kill him depending on their mood. He actually hoped he dealt with the cops than the citizens in this state.

The bar wasn’t bustling but seeing good business when he wandered in. He slapped down the twenty and waited for the talk to start up again. Which it did.

“So, they’re saying those kids just went off camping so it’s no big deal.” One man at the end of the bar was saying to the bartender.

“What about the geek? You telling me that kid went camping?”

“Maybe he’s hiding in shame. Anyway, the cops told the parents to wait out the weekend and they’ll be back in classes by Monday.”

“What the fuck does Hugo know? I heard he failed his test but he’s a legacy so they promoted him anyway.”

“I’m just saying. It fits. College kids from out of town, they go off partying every so often and no one really turns up missing, you know?”

“They’re probably holed up somewhere having hippy flashbacks.” Dean tossed out. “My daughter’s in college, thinks she’s Stevie Nicks.”

“See.” The guy told the bartender.

“Where’s your kid go?”

“I dunno anymore. A&M?” Dean pulled the college’s name out of his ass but the two men snorted. “What?”

“Fuckin’ Aggies.” They chorused and shook their heads, conversation moving on to other topics.

Dean had looked into less. Taking in another couple of beers, he headed back to the motel. 12 missed calls. No voice messages. If she really wanted to talk, she would have left a message. Dean flipped through a stack of newspapers to pick out potential stake out locations. Then he sat down to write a letter, he was due and he liked to think that she actually expected them. He knew she read them because she yelled at him about them.

Dear Alice,

I nearly became a father again last week and this time… in a real sense. She was 11 years old. I met her outside the apartment I was crashing in for a while. She told me that a monster visited her at night. I looked into it but she just seemed like one of those kids that loved to tell boogeyman stories.

It was simple enough, it’s what I thought anyway. Then I talked to my ladyfriend and she informed me that everyone knew about the monster but no one had any proof. Her monster wasn’t what I thought it was. He wasn’t the kind I’m used to fighting. He was a man, just a sick fuck of a man. Creatures of the night, I get. People are just crazy.

I didn’t even think and I don’t remember roughing her father up. I laid out his options for him and I cut him loose. They wanted me to stay. I wanted to but… it wouldn’t be fair to them to build something resembling a happy home and then run out on them later. That’s the only guarantee in my life. That I’ll leave and disappoint someone.

I would have killed that son of a bitch except that I get squeamish about dispatching humans. Murder is not that high on the list of bad things I do. If your stepdad ever did those things to you… I would have no choice but to kill him. He looks like an okay guy, though… what I’ve seen of him.

I’m glad that he was good to you. I’m a bad role model.

Dean Winchester.

His phone rang but he ignored it in favor of heading out to find one of the potentially haunted houses in the rural area. His phone kept ringing and he kept on ignoring it. There were four condemned houses that were scheduled for demolition in the next month according to the papers and two of them had shady histories according to the internet and the progeny of the Hell Hounds’ Lair. Hopefully it wasn’t still the same two idiots running the site. He really hoped those two had moved out of the tin can and not back into their mom’s basement. Maybe he should head out to Richardson and get them a hooker for a night.

Dean’s plan was to check out the houses and the neighborhoods and go back to the motel to make Sam make some long distance phone calls for him. That’s not the plan he got to put into action. The second house had broken windows, which wasn’t uncommon in condemned houses but the tape on the front door was broken. Then his phone rang again. Tossing it into the backseat, he got out of the car to pop the trunk. The block was virtually empty… except for three cars parked haphazardly in an empty lot across the street. It all screamed Late Night Friday Movie to him.

He selected his tools carefully. Shotgun. Rock salt shells. Holy water. Pistol. Consecrated iron rounds. Lighter. Matches. He looked up at the house. It was dark. Flashlight. Fully armed, he marched up to the front door, which gave easily when he pushed it, confirming that it had been messed with recently. It was quiet but the kind of dead still that drove him nuts.

He found the first body in the kitchen. He hadn’t got a chance to do the research on the house but he’d lay down money that the odd way the body was laid out was an exact match to a crime scene photo somewhere. The next body was at the bottom of the basement stairs. Then it struck him that the bodies were no more than a day dead. No bloat. Rigor… He canvassed the rest of the first floor but came up with nothing. Slowly, he approached the stair case. He moved quickly and easily. His knee only cracked once. There at the top of the stairs was a third body. This one was impaled on a banister rod, eyes open. He hated it when their eyes were open.

Then came the first noise. Whispering. Then he heard beeping. Cell Phone. He approached the hallway slowly, keeping his beam low. The first room was empty. The one across the way was empty. The next room had two bodies in it, jackets over their faces. Someone had been alive after these two had died. Breathing evenly, he made it to the last room. The whispering was getting louder, frantic. The beeping getting faster. Easing open the door, he found the source.

A girl, in a skirt and boots, rocking herself, blindly dialing on a cell phone, whispering to herself and sitting inside a salt circle. Well that explained why she was alive and the others were dead. The salt circle though… wouldn’t she have warned the others if she had known about the salt? He cleared his throat, about to speak, when the spirit appeared behind her. He didn’t even blink, he shot off the gun and the ghost vanished in a spray of rock salt.

The girl shrieked and covered her head with her hands, cell phone tangling in her long blond hair. Dean didn’t have time for this. Whoever this ghost was, he was a very bad person and he needed to get this girl out of the crossfire. He gripped her under her arm and hauled her to her feet. He couldn’t see her face for all the hair everywhere. “I need you to shut the fuck up, right now. Do you hear me?” He had to shake her to make his point. She stopped screaming, which allowed him time to reload his gun. “You stay in my shadow, you got it? Two steps behind me, both hands on my back until we get out of here. Can you do that?”

“Ye-yes.” She stammered out, her head bobbing. Her sudden gasp, made him turn around just as two figures appeared out of thin air. He’d only just gotten the shells out of his pocket. It would take too long to shoot them. Biting the wadding out of a shell, he flicked the remainder of the contents out the door and through the figures. They vanished.

“Bam.” He whispered as he finished loading the gun. He stepped into the doorway and peered into the hallway. “Girl! Hands on me. Two steps behind.”

He could feel her shivers as they shuffled down the hall. She was tripping over herself and nearly took him down with her once. He was about to yell at her when the ghosts came out of the stairwell. He leaned back to get the gun out of the way of the banister, which also trapped the girl between himself and the wall. He pumped the gun and shot at the nearest of the two and managed to get them both with one shell. Still, he reloaded while he had the moment.

“Listen to me carefully.” He whispered as he inched down the stairs. “When we hit the first floor, you’re going to stay on me for ten steps and then when I turn around, you make a break for the door. Don’t you dare trip. You stay on your feet and you keep up if you want to live another day. If I turn back, you keep going. There’s a car out front. If I don’t come out, you get the phone in the backseat and you call Sam, he’s speed dial one. You don’t get out of the car until he gets here and that could take a while.”

He felt her nod against his back. He reached back and gave her the flashlight. He grasped her shirt and hurried down the last steps. He could hear her counting out the steps. Then the ghosts reappeared. “Go!”

Spinning, he shot but the ghost moved and he missed. Swinging the gun around, he kept an eye out for the other one. He heard her skid on the porch and drop the flashlight but then he heard her feet on the grass. “Good girl, don’t need the flashlight outside.”

Inching toward the open door, Dean kept his eyes on the darkness. He was almost there when the ghosts came at him from both sides. Shooting one, he dove for the door and let himself tumble out onto the grass. He ran for the car where she was not. Stupid girl was staring at the house with one hand on the door handle. Quickly, he reloaded his gun and aimed it for the doorway where the other ghost was raging. He shot the thing on principle. “Get in. Let’s go.”

“My friends are in there.” She pointed to the house.

“They’re all dead.”

“What?” She turned to face him, hair out of her face and all the blood rushed out of her cheeks just a moment before she fainted.

Rushing to catch her, Dean frowned. She looked familiar but he couldn’t place her. Cursing, he hefted her into the car and turned it to his motel. He would get his answers when she woke up.

TBC

[DMartinez]

Part 5

Dean had just gotten out of the shower when the girl finally came to. “You okay?”

“Where am I?”

“Dirty motel at the edge of town. How about you go get cleaned up and then we have a chat about what you were doing in that house?” Dean handed her his clothes bag. “This is the clean bag, take what you need.”

“Okay.” She slid off the bed and took the bag. She glanced back at him more than once before disappearing into the tiny bathroom.

Dean made notes on the ghosts he’d seen. They were definitely from the 70s but that was still a lot of newspapers to go through. He flicked open his phone to find a dozen more phone calls. One after another. Then he scrolled through the list of times and discovered so many more.

He had his finger poised over the talk button when she emerged from the shower. His stomach fell to his feet as he jumped up and gripped her arms so that he could see her face; free from grime, tears, messy hair and makeup. “How did you know about the rock salt?”

“You told me.” She whispered. “When I was four.”

“Alice?” He stared at her, images of her dead friends flashed before his eyes. Then he crushed her against his body. “Oh my God, Alice.” His heart would not stop pounding. “Holy shit, Alice. What the hell was going on in there?”

The tears streamed down her face. “It was stupid. We were… and then… and no one believed it and… I tried to remember and… I kept calling you and I figured if I called enough that you’d pick up but you never picked up.” She lifted her face to meet his eyes. “You never picked up. How did you find me?”

Dean’s stomach did another tilt and whirl. “It was an accident.”

“You found me by accident?” She blinked at him. She sobbed suddenly. “They’re all dead and I’m alive by accident?”

“We need a drink.” Dean sat her on the bed and dug out his bottle and took a swig before pouring her a finger in a plastic cup from the bathroom. He watched her toss it back without a wince and blinked in surprise when she held it out for a second. “This is not your mom’s sherry.”

“I’m from Texas. Shot of courage has gotta be bigger to buck up what we already got.” She took the bottle to pour herself a double.

“You drink a bottle before walking into that mess?” He settled himself on the end of the bed to take the bottle before she could pour herself another double. “No one sane goes into a house where a massacre happened exactly any number of years ago.” Her head hung at his tone but he kept talking. “That was seriously a bonehead thing to do. Anniversaries are hardcore in the spirit world. It wasn’t just a killer ghost, it was every single one of his pissed off victims. They are unavenged and angry and will kill anyone that walks in those doors.”

“I didn’t know.” She whispered in such a small voice.

“You do your research. That’s what keeps you alive. Know how many and how they died and where the bodies are buried.” Dean poured himself another shot and took a deep breath. “You’re lucky that I was looking into it already…”

“What’s gonna happen now?”

“Tomorrow, I do some research. I find out where the bodies are buried and I salt and burn their bones. Then I leave town.”

“Is this something you do a lot?” She sipped her whiskey. “I’m pretty sure I peed myself when I saw the first ghost. You… were armed and ready and you’ve never said what you do… is this… what you do?”

“You didn’t talk to Sam?” Dean stood and ran his hands through his hair. “That was kind of the point of giving you his number.”

“You always make your brother do your dirty work?”

“Don’t you?”

She opened her mouth then shut it and grinned. “Well, I am the oldest.” She finished her glass and poured herself another. “Actually, I did call him and he was evasive but we’ve had some conversations and I really like his wife.”

“Yeah. Sarah’s great.”

“I have cousins, apparently.” She nodded at him, eyes wide. She sniffed a bit and pursed her lips. It reminded him a bit of Sam.

“Sammy Too and Maddy.” Dean smiled to himself. “Eight and five.”

“Yeah.” She took a breath. “So, I cover for awkwardness by being chatty.”

“I cover with humor.” He shrugged and turned to stare out the window. “All my jokes right now are pretty inappropriate, so I’m not making any.”

“How could you do it, Dean?” She rose unsteadily from the bed. “How could you look me in the eye and not tell me who you were?”

“Because of what happened tonight. I do that a lot. I find haunted houses, I find who died and where the bodies are buried and I send them on their way. It means that I get picked up sometimes. It means that I’m constantly running from the law and I’m pretty sure that after tonight, the feds will come and say I killed all your friends… and when they find out who you are… I’ll never be able to see you again because they’ll put an agent on you to make sure they know when I make contact again.”

“You can’t tell them what you were really doing?”

Dean turned to face her. She was nearly 22 but she looked so young. “They didn’t believe me the last time I tried. I nearly dragged Sammy down with me. It’s better this way.”

“Do you have a wife? Other kids?” She sat down again.

“Not to my knowledge but I suppose it could happen more than once.” He grabbed the bottle and pulled long on it. “Get some rest, Alice. I’ll stay up and do the research. Tomorrow night I’m sending those spirits to hell.”

--

Dean spent an hour searching through local police logs from the 70s. Sometimes the internet was a blessing. Then he spent the next two hours watching his daughter sleep. His mind spun with trying to reconcile what almost happened to her with what was actually happening. The thought of her being in that house. If he had known that she was in there to begin with… The thought alone paralyzed him. He marveled at how his father had managed to fight evil so long with two boys to look after.

It was halfway into the third hour when her breathing changed. Dean knew all the signs of a nightmare by now. Gently, he shook her awake and quickly soothed her back to sleep. He dozed from the edge of the bed where he’d perched but he never got any real sleep. Dawn had colored the room with a myriad of hues by the time she had broken from her restless sleep.

Alice picked up her head and turned it to the body heat radiating from beside her. “Did you sleep?”

“Not really.” Dean shook his head. He wanted some coffee but that would involve getting up and he was pretty content to sit right where he was.

“Is it gonna be a hard job?” She propped herself up on her elbows, forearms swimming in the sleeves of his shirt.

“Not really. Usually better with some help but nothing I can’t handle.”

“Then why didn’t you sleep?” She frowned and slid back until she was kneeling on the bed. Then she realized that she had kind of taken over his bed.

“Not about the one bed, Alice.” Dean managed a wry grin. “I’ve slept standing up, sitting down, on floors, on dirt, in the mud…” His grin faded. “There’s something that happens when… a parent almost loses a child. I couldn’t sleep if I tried.”

“You don’t even know me.” She tried to protest.

“You’ve only known about me for a few years. I’ve known about you for a bit longer.” He groaned as he got to his feet. His knee popped as he shifted his weight on to that leg. “I’m gonna go grab us some breakfast from down the street.”

Dean could feel her eyes on him as he grabbed his jacket and the room key. When the door shut, he thought about climbing into the car and just taking off. But he just ran a finger along her sleek lines as he passed, making his way to the diner down the street for food. It was really just an excuse to be alone with his thoughts. To be somewhere away from that green-eyed gaze and all her questions. His mind was too full of the hunt and of memories and regrets.

The way she tilted her head at him, his mother popped into mind. It brought tears to his eyes as he was ordering two breakfast specials to go. Sam’s kids were brunettes and looked more like Sarah. Alice was Mary Winchester all over again. He had to take a moment to collect himself outside the diner before he could walk again. Sam hadn’t told Alice a thing. Had wanted to protect her the way Dean had tried to.

When Dean finally returned to the room, Alice was sitting at the little table, sipping coffee, her bare feet sticking out of his too-long sweats. One leg drawn up against her body and the other dangling. Her hair in her face, forehead creased as she read over his research. Without looking up, she held up a stack of envelopes. “Mind if I just take these instead of you wasting the 20 to mail?”

“Well, they are yours.” He grunted as he deposited the boxes on top of the mess. “Eggs and sausage okay? Didn’t know if you were on one of those diets or anything.”

“I’ve got a good metabolism. Also from you, I guess. Mom… well…” She shrugged. “She used to tell me that I might as well not been hers at all… but only when she was mad.”

“I’m sure I said this to you at some point but I just want to make it clear… Your mom and me… ships passing. Don’t want you having any illusions about me.”

“Okay. She said as much.”

He nodded to himself as he sat to eat something to settle his stomach. He looked up in surprise when she poured a fresh cup of coffee and set it in front of him. “Um… thanks.”

“You were kind of eying mine like you wanted to take it to bed.”

He took a sip, then took another deep drink. “Well, I just might. You make a good cup.”

“My… stepdad taught me how men like their coffee.” She snorted and flushed. “Mom’s idea of coffee is so weak that it looks like sewer water.”

“Dad liked his fork to stand up in his coffee.” He was secretly pleased when she laughed. He loved the way she looked when she laughed. Then all happiness was shot because he knew that he would break her heart before this hunt was over and that would about kill him. “After a while, he stopped calling it coffee. Cup of caffeine unless we were having coffee with Pastor Jim.”

“Pastor Jim?” She picked at her breakfast, eyes still a little haunted by thoughts of the night before but genuinely interested in any stories he was willing to tell her face to face.

“He was a friend of the family. He… passed away just before Dad did.” Dean shrugged her off.

“So… he made good coffee?”

“Good, simple coffee that you could drink black, enjoy and not feel like it was something too expensive to share. He was a man of the cloth and he didn’t have extravagant taste. Just…”

“Good and simple.”

“Right.”

She began to eat with more interest and Dean realized just how long she’d been sitting in that house, hiding inside her salt circle. He could almost see her compartmentalizing the experience so she could deal with it without losing her mind. She was nervous and she said she got chatty when she was nervous. Talking around a mouthful of eggs and biscuit, she continued to demonstrate this little quirk of hers. “This is okay. Not as good as Nana’s but you know… good. How do you know where to look for all this stuff?”

“A lifetime of experience.”

“What is that? 20 years? 30 years?”

“40 years.”

“But you’re only…” She looked up at him, green eyes wide and suddenly putting the pieces together. “How did it happen?” She swallowed a mouthful. “If you were so young, I mean. How did you get started in this life?”

“How about we save that conversation for after I figure out how to salt and burn five graves at once?”

“How do I know that once you figure out how to do that… that you won’t just take off? I know you won’t pick up if I call you.”

“Then call Sam.”

“I don’t want to hear it from him. I want to hear it from you.” She stared at him, unflinching. “You’re my father. The only way I want to hear it from him is if…” She choked on the end of the sentence. “So… I want to hear it from you. Okay?”

Dean nodded. He understood that better than she thought. All the stories that he never asked his Dad about because he never believed that his father could die. She had lived her whole life without knowing her own father’s name and now she was sitting across from him and he was refusing to talk. “Listen. Let’s just get through this hunt. I’m gonna have to run pretty fast afterward… but… I’ll answer the questions.”

“How are you going to do that if you’re running away?”

“I gotta go get some information.” Dean rose from the table. “Sit tight or don’t. I don’t care. Just don’t go back to that house without me.”

--

Dean spent an hour trying to find his way around the little nothing town because he felt sick to his stomach. Any moment would send his breakfast back up the way it came. He needed to be done with the hunt and on to the next before she trapped him. At sunset, he was in the graveyard with a list of names. He had his shotgun, salt shells and two bags of salt. He didn’t remember when exactly she showed up but she had gloves and a second shovel. She didn’t once suggest they split up and dig two graves at a time. She just helped him get them done faster, one at a time. They didn’t talk.

The murderer’s grave was done first before she got there. She didn’t have to be exposed to the rage of a spirit about to be ended. Dean took his share of knocks. The other graves were a precaution. Sometimes they went away when the murderer was taken care of. Sometimes the victims were too far gone for it to matter. Dean wasn’t taking that chance. They all had to go. He’d have to return eventually and do the same to her friends when the cases were closed and no one would connect him and hopefully before their spirits got restless enough to haunt anyone.

It was nearly dawn when they finished filling the last of the graves. Dean dropped his weary body into the driver’s seat. Then waited as she tucked herself into the passenger seat. They didn’t speak as the car took them through town and back to the motel. Dean let her shower first. He packed up his things. Secured his weapons. Saved his clothes for last so that he could shower. Alice sat on the bed and waited for him to speak. He couldn’t find the words. Then he waited as she climbed into the car with him. “It’s sixteen hundred miles between here and my brother. That’s a two day drive.”

“Long drive.”

“If I take you with me, I’d probably make some conversation.” He kept his eyes on the number on the hotel room door.

“I’m a good listener.”

“People are going to be worried about you, especially once they find the bodies.”

“They found them yesterday, while you were out. It was on the news.” She informed him. “I went in and gave my statement. I didn’t see anything because I hid.”

“Well… ignorance is one way of lying.” He took a deep breath and blew it out slowly. His mind was too tired to think. No sleep in the last couple of days, bone-tired from all the digging, only one real meal in about a week. “People are going to be looking for you.”

“I know. Cops already told me not to leave town.”

“Then maybe you should really think about staying.”

“I need to go with you.”

“They were already talking about you kids when I pulled into town. I’ll bet your parents are already on their way into town.”

“Then we’d better get going.”

“Dammit, Alice!”

“Dammit, Dean! I’m going! If you leave me behind, I’ll follow you!”

“You don’t have a car.”

“Yes, I do… it’s broken… though…” She clicked her teeth together. “I’ll hitchhike.”

“No! Never.” Dean shook his head at her. “Never hitchhike, no matter what. Promise me that.”

“Why should I?”

“Because, dammit, there are murderers out there. It’s not just the spirits that are crazy. People are fucking nuts.”

“So take me with you.”

Dean turned on the engine but let it idle a while. “Here’s what we’re gonna do. You’re going to make one phone call in one hour to your folks. Tell them what you want. Then we’re tossing the phone out the window. When we make stops, you’re going to follow my lead, don’t contradict me and don’t mouth off.”

“Got it.”

“Alice.”

“I got it, Dean.”

“You’re gonna need supplies… right?”

“I can buy new clothes.”

“Right.”

“Well, I had this guy leave me a trust fund that had been and still is accruing mad interest and so… I got some funds to spare.”

“You can thank that guy’s brother for knowing how to set all that up.”

“I will do that.”

“Alright then.” Dean put the car in gear and pulled out of the parking lot. He flipped the switch on the stereo and the car filled with drums and guitars. He noticed her wince but didn’t adjust the volume. “One hour, Alice.”

“I’ll remember.” She nodded and settled herself for the drive. They listened to something called Ozzy for an hour as he sped towards New York. Then he snapped off the radio. Alice made her phone call and handed the phone over. Dean looked it over, looked at her, then tossed it out his window to smash against the freeway. Half an hour later, he started talking.

TBC

[DMartinez]

Part 6

Dean talked until he lost his voice. Then they rode in silence for the remainder of the day. They stayed overnight at some dive in Ohio. Alice started talking instead of sleeping. Dean could see the fear in her eyes. Sleeping meant dreaming. She was tough but he knew the events in that house would be with her forever. Sleepless nights were just the beginning.

Dinner at an old fashioned drive-in. That’s how he found out about the boy she’d been dating, who wasn’t the boy she’d followed to college. She was majoring in Social Sciences. She spoke French and German. She loved dogs and hated cats. He had blinked at her when she said that. “What?”

“You hate cats? Since when?”

“Since always.”

“Reach back there, under the seat.” He jerked his head toward the backseat and waited silently until she had pulled out the piece of plaster. He watched her out of the corner of his eye. She traced her own four-year-old handwriting and the clumsy strokes that had made a kitten and some flowers.

“I don’t remember liking cats.” The flick of her eyes said what she didn’t ask. ‘You kept this?’

He answered with a shrug. “Yeah well. Sometimes people change, I guess.”

Then they had finally fallen asleep. Dean hadn’t bothered to wake up early, so it was banging on the door that woke him up. He waved off the clerk and flipped him off once his back was turned. Then it was the two of them on the road again with dead silence. It was a relatively short drive that had them pulling into the driveway just as the sun was setting over the Winchester home. Dean killed the engine and waited. It was barely a minute before Sam came out onto the front porch. He stood on the edge, holding up the roof with one hand and just waited.

“Wow. He’s tall.”

“Yeah.”

“You’re sure he’s your baby brother?”

Dean breathed out a laugh. “He’s not expecting you. So… be ready for some slack-jawed rambling. He’s a talker.”

“Not like you.” She snorted.

“Normally, I don’t talk at all. This was a special favor to you. Sammy… well, he’ll still leave me in the dust. You’ll see. He’s going to ask you all sorts of questions and want to talk about the finer points of something that’s gonna put me to sleep.”

That’s when Sam’s facial expression changed and he dropped his hand from the overhang. He rushed to the car and ripped open the driver’s side door and let out a breath. “Dammit, Dean! I thought you were hurt! What are you doing just sitting out here?”

“I was having a Kodak moment with my daughter, which you ruined cause you’re a giant freak like always.” Dean tsked his brother, which made Alice snicker. Just like Dean predicted, Sam’s jaw dropped. Dean reached up and clicked it shut. “Marta cooking?”

“Um… yeah, we were just finishing dinner… Marta will heat something up for you two…” Sam crossed his arms and fixed his eyes on his brother’s. “What? Dean?”

“Long story. I’m hungry.” Dean shoved him away so he could climb out of the car.

--



Dean ate in silence while Sarah and Sam stared at Alice across the table. The little ones had gotten bored very quickly and gone to play. As it turned out, as much as Alice had wanted to talk to Dean, she didn’t want to tell Sam and Sarah what had happened back in College Station. Dean just let his gaze flick between his suddenly silent daughter and his abnormally silent brother. Marta bustled in and out with tea and rolls. She kissed Dean’s head in passing and smoothed Alice’s hair. Then Marta got nosy. “Who is the girl? I hope not one of your girls, you filthy pig.”

Dean snorted. He cleared his throat. “Alice van lányom, Marta.”

“A lány van gyönyörű. Csinál ő úgy néz ki mint anyja?” Marta cupped Alice’s face between her hands and looked to Dean.

“Ő úgy néz ki mint anyám. tehát Azt hiszem ő fog utánam.” Dean shrugged and realized that Sarah had not only been teaching Marta English but had been learning Hungarian as well. Sarah’s eyes grew round and she nudged her husband.

“What are you guys saying about me?” Alice finally spoke up.

“I was just explaining to Marta who you are…” Then Dean met Sarah’s eyes. “And how much you look like your grandmother.”

Sam didn’t say anything but his mouth became a tight line and his eyes started to water. After a few strained moments, Sam excused himself from the table and disappeared out the back door. Dean hung his head but didn’t move to go after him. Sarah reached over the table to take their empty plates. “I’ll just give him a minute and then drag him back in here.”

“So he really was just a baby when she died, huh.” Alice whispered.

“He only knows her from pictures we used to have.” Dean folded his hands on the table. “I have vague impressions of her at best but when you smile… you… make me feel like I’m four again.”

“Come, come. I get you clean clothes and shower and a bed.” Marta pulled Alice up by her hands. Dean started to follow but Marta shoved him back into his chair. He sat, alone, and listened while Marta made a fuss over the girl. “I know your father for many years.”

“How many?” Alice’s voice sounded so small that it created an ache in Dean’s chest.

“Ten, I think. I come to work for Mrs. Sarah when she get engaged to Mr. Sam. We plan wedding and then I meet the Misters Winchester. I never know Mr. Dean have a daughter.” Dean grinned at Marta’s storytelling. “Mr. Dean always lonely, always hunting for woman to make him forget and still, always lonely. I think he found him a woman.”

“He’s got a girlfriend?”

“Mr. Dean never have one girlfriend. Always this girlfriend in Chicago and this girlfriend in New York and this girlfriend in Los Angeles. I think Mr. Dean have two girlfriend in every state.” Marta took a deep breath and started talking again. “Mr. Dean is big flirt.”

“What language do you speak?”

“I am from Hungary. Mr. Dean know old Hungary tongue. We talk away from nosy ears.”

“Wow. You said he found a woman.”

“You. You make him smile. I know him all these years, he never smile that way. Even better I find him a wife.” There was a long pause. “I never know Mr. Dean have a daughter. Where is your mother?”

“Back home.”

“She love Mr. Dean?”

“No.”

“Do you?”

“He’s my father. I have a place inside me where he’s always lived. I’ve only known his name for a little while.”

“Mr. Dean is a good man. I can tell he loves you. He will take care of you.”

“I’m only here for a visit. I have to go home. My mom and my stepdad will be upset. I have to finish school.”

“Where is the boyfriend?”

“We were fighting. He won’t even know I’m gone.”

“Somehow, I do not think so.”

Dean made himself stop listening. He didn’t deserve to know about the drama with Alice’s boyfriend. He let himself out the backdoor to find Sam and Sarah sitting in the dark. “Okay. Let me have it.”

“Dean, is she okay?” Sam cleared his throat suddenly.

“She’s okay. She had a scare and I happened to be passing through. She even helped out a little.”

“You let her help on a hunt?”

“She…” Dean wet his lips. “She just lost some of her friends to a mean nasty spirit with a few of his victims raging. She’s entitled to let go of some of that… by digging a grave or two.”

“She wouldn’t leave when you told her to?”

“We were kind of beyond words by that point, you know… she’s…” Dean shrugged and leaned up against the side of the house.

“She seems like a nice girl.” Sarah cut in.

“Hard to believe she’s half me, huh.”

“No.” Sam shook his head. “It’s not.” He sniffed. “So, she looks like Mom, huh.” Dean shrugged. “Well, she’s a very pretty girl and I hope she got her mother’s brains.”

“Hemenene.” Dean sneered at his brother. “She uh… she’s supposed to thank you for playing my money the right way. She said that it ended up being more than enough money for college.”

“She know how you got the start up money?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay.”

“I’m not lying to her, Sam. After what she’s been through… I had to tell her everything.”

“So, she knows… everything. The whole black hole of weirdness that is our family tree.” Sam’s eyes went wide.

“Yeah. Spent most of the drive giving her the short version… which as it turns out is pretty frickin’ long.” He lifted his eyes and his eyebrows to the sky. “I’m just… I don’t know what to do with her. She argued and argued her way into the car and into coming here with me and I don’t know what to do with her anymore.”

“Dean…” Sarah reached out to touch him.

“I just… she makes me tell her all this stuff while we’re awake but I don’t sleep cause I’m watching her and then I have to stop doing that cause I feel like maybe it’s a little creepy but… she’s going home eventually and I…”

“We know.” Sam nodded and pulled Sarah back to his side.

“I needed…”

“Neutral ground?”

“Yeah.”

“We’ll do some interference.” Sam promised. “Come on. I want to talk to her.”

“I don’t know man. Marta’s not done with her yet.”

“Then, it’s my cue.” Sarah straightened and led the way back into the house.

--

Dean was laying in his bed, his sheets swallowing him in softness. He tried to sleep and he guessed that maybe he dozed for a while but it didn’t take much noise to wake him up. When he opened his eyes, Alice was standing beside his bed with tears in her eyes. Sitting up, he let her bury her face in his shoulder and weep out the last few days. It seemed like forever until she stopped crying but finally she did. “Dean, I’m so sorry. I’m not normally a person who cries a lot but… I just… I woke up and I was alone and I thought about…”

“Yeah, I know. Sucks to lose your friends that way.”

“God, you must think that I’m such a baby.”

“No, I’ve seen much more weeping over much less. Trust me. I don’t think you’re handling this badly.” Dean stroked hair and leaned back against the headboard. “The first time Sammy went on a hunt… he said he was fine and then he woke up in the middle of the night, bawling his eyes out… so, I’ve had a little experience with this.”

“How old was he?”

“14 but he had known about this stuff for a few years so… you’re at a disadvantage.” He stared at her profile for the longest time. “If it didn’t bother you, I’d be worried.” He let out a long slow breath. “Really, really worried.”

“Does it bother you?”

“No… and that scares me.”

“What does scare you?”

“All the things I never did.”

--

Sam had wide guilty eyes when he walked into the kitchen where Dean was sipping his first cup of the morning. “Dude, I don’t know how to say this without you freaking out but… Alice is gone.”

“No, she’s not.”

“Dude, I just checked in on her and she’s not there.”

“She’s in my room.” Dean lifted his head when he heard how that sounded and made a face. “Nightmare last night. She’s asleep in my room.”

“So, you’re getting along at least.” Sam hopped up on the counter and poured himself a cup. “You get any sleep?”

“Some.”

“Dude, you’ve been saying that for 15 years. You need to sleep more.”

“Okay. Dude, enough with the Marta routine.”

“Dean, you’re 44 years old. You’re still hunting.”

“Dad was 56.”

“I know and don’t you think he should have stopped before then?”

“Morning.” Alice called in, breaking up what looked like it was a very old and very violent argument. “Got another cup?”

“We do and you might want to watch your tongue. Dean made it.” Sam poured her a cup with a small wink. “He likes his spoon to stand up. Cream and sugar on the table.”

“Why would I ruin a perfectly fine cup of caffeine?” Alice shook her head at him and took a deep swallow.

Sam tilted his head and ran the sentence through his head again and then looked at Dean. Dean only shrugged. “You’re still the lightweight in the family, Sammy. Even Alice can hold her liquor.”

Alice grinned and glanced between them. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Two beers and he sings karaoke.” Dean made a face at his brother.

“I do not!” Sam exploded. “I wish you’d quit telling people that.”

“It’s true, sweetie.” Sarah tsked at him when she entered the kitchen with Maddy on her hip and Sammy Too trailing behind. “We’re off to the park. Marta is out shopping. I trust that the three of you will not get into trouble without us.”

When they had disappeared out the front door, Dean snorted. “She so wears the pants in this house.”

“Well, it is her house.” Sam defended himself, weakly.

“You’re married. You’re supposed to say ‘our’ house.” He drained his cup and held it out for Sam to pour him another. After a moment of silence. “So what, your only contribution was a couple of squirts a few years back?”

“You’re disgusting.”

Alice just grinned, highly amused at the banter between the two. She still found it hard to believe that they were her family. Dean was not at all like Christopher who was a ‘do as I say not as I do’ sort of father. Christopher still believed that women should be secretaries and teachers. Dean was full of laughter and stories about loose women and bar brawls. Sam was quieter and seemed to have a good time ribbing Dean about his life choices.

Somehow the three of them managed to polish off the coffee, shower, dress and get out of the house for lunch. Looking at them, no one would ever guess that they were middle aged. They horsed around like much younger men. Their tongues had no restraint in lashing each other in front of her and she found that highly amusing. Then Dean took Sam’s pee break as an opportunity to tell a funny story.

“Now, granted, Sam had been all busted up about Jess… she’s the girl he was seeing at Stanford.”

“The one that died?”

“Right. Nice girl, bad luck… anyway. It’d been almost a year and we get this hunt up here in New York. The room is god awful and we end up at this fancy schmancy estate auction. Sammy’s tossing out college words and gets this girl to blush, kind of puts her in her place. I’m pissed off cause I hate snobs but the girl was hot… and hot for Sam, weird as that sounds.” Dean paused for her giggle. “I had to dial her number, hit call and shove the phone in his face just to get him to talk to her again.”

“That’s cruel. What if he wasn’t ready?”

“He was ready. He didn’t want to be ready but he was ready. They flirted hardcore the entire hunt. Girls don’t ignore me. If they hit on one of us, it’s usually me. So it was fairly obvious that this girl wanted my baby brother and I was determined that it was going to happen.”

“How thoughtful.”

“Well, we finished up the hunt and I saved the day. It wasn’t me she kissed as a thank you.”

“Well, what happened?”

“He didn’t talk to her for two years.”

“What?”

“But he married her ten years ago.”

“Sarah!?” Alice exclaimed. “Really? So they’ve known each other a long time.”

“Well, technically but he was still a big chicken and I had to force him to look her up, twice. Your uncle is a big weenie.”

Alice looked up when Sam rejoined them and burst out laughing. Sam’s eyes flicked to Dean. “What did you tell her?”

“Just about the time you almost missed out on the love of your life because you’re a gigantic scaredy cat.”

“Ha, ha.” Sam scoffed. “Did you tell her about the time you reunited with the love of your life and… Never mind.”

Alice had watched the both of them stiffen and regard each other warily. Dean grabbed his glass and stood up, leaving them to go to the bar. Sam sat there shaking his head at himself. Alice cleared her throat. “Are you talking about Cassie?” Sam’s head tilted sharply at her. “He wrote about her in some of the letters he sent me. He got over her eventually.”

“Really.” Sam stared at her. “He actually told you about her?”

“Yeah… and a few other people he was involved with but…” She took a letter out of her pocket and slipped it across the table. “I just got it.”

Sam frowned as he unfolded the letter and read it over. It had been a few months since he’d hunted with his brother and there had been things to happen to Dean in between. Sam ran his fingers over the words that Alice was talking about and folded the letter back up to hand back. She tucked it back into her jacket. “I’m jealous.”

“Of?”

“You. He talks to you. I always told him that it wasn’t healthy to keep all that inside and he finally started talking… to you.” Sam shook his head. “He’s never going to tell me about that little girl and he damn sure won’t tell me about his lady friend. I might let it slip to Sarah though.”

“Think Sarah will track her down?”

“I know she will.” Sam grinned. “This person may be what Dean needs to settle down.”

“Uncle Sam?” Alice picked at her place mat. “Everyone is really concerned with Dean settling down. Isn’t a good thing that he does what he does? Hunts?”

“Yeah, sure but… Dean doesn’t have a home. When he takes a break, he comes here and that’s fine but there’s nothing for him here. He doesn’t have a wife and kids to check in on and to keep him from being too reckless. He’s used to me and my whining at him. It’s just what we’re… he needs something else.” Sam reached over and took her hand. “I’m really glad that you hound him the way you do. I’m really glad that he found you and that you made him bring you up here. You’re good for him. He’s pissy right now but he’s smiled more these past few days than he has in the last few years put together.”

“You’re my only uncle… but I think that if I had other uncles, you’d still be my favorite.”

“That’s good to hear.”

--

Sam watched Dean show Alice around the square that had had his older brother fascinated since Sam and Sarah had settled down. Arm around her shoulders, Dean pointed out something that was far off. She squinted and laughed. As they walked ahead of him, Alice grasped Dean’s arm in both of hers, her steps quicker to keep up with Dean’s longer ones.

Then they had passed by the college and Alice had gone silent. In the side view, Sam could see the tears building in her eyes for the friends she had lost. She hastily wiped them away and followed them out to a bluff. Dean opened the trunk of the car to show off his babies. The sawed-off, the Colt, the cross-bow, the Winchester rifle… that Dean took a long look at and then handed it to Alice. “It was my dad’s. He gave to me. I’m giving it to you.”

“Dean, she doesn’t know how to shoot a gun.” Sam scoffed.

“Excuse you.” Alice took the gun and lifted it, aiming at the ground while she checked the sighting on it. “My stepdad taught me to shoot a rifle.” She checked the chamber and blinked at it. “What I don’t know how to do is to clean it… Christopher taught Toby but not me.”

“Well, that, Dean can teach you with his eyes closed.” Sam nodded to himself, thoroughly chastised by a girl half his age. “I suck at it.”

“I know you do, that’s why I kept all the guns.” Dean shook his head at his brother. “Dad first rule of gun care was ‘take care of your guns and they’ll take care of you.’ There was rarely a time when a gun jammed on me.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah.” Dean took the gun and turned it around so that Alice could see the plate on its outside. “John Winchester. That’s your grandpa. If all the good you get from my end is looking like your grandma and shooting like your grandpa, consider it all genes well received.”

“Okay.” Alice nodded, took the gun in her arms and then reached up to give him a hug. “Thank you.”

TBC

[DMartinez]

Part 7

Dean ran his fingers over the picture. He had protested because it was cheesy but ultimately he was grateful to have it. Two generations of Winchesters. Sammy, Sarah, Sammy Too and Maddy in their pressed clothes and gelled hair, standing next to Dean and Alice in wrinkled clothes and windblown hair.

--

Alice sprawled on her stomach in front of the TV, Sarah had propped her head up on a pillow, the bowl of popcorn sat between them. “I dated Mike for a few years. He was nice and sweet but we went to college and I never saw him anymore and then I saw him making out with this girl from his study group and I just… let him go.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Then I dated this guy because he had a leather jacket and he wasn’t into school and he wasn’t from my home town. He got tired of me after about two weeks and just took off on me.” Alice sighed heavily. “I wasn’t too broken up about it. That’s when I met Gabriel.”

“Well, if the sound of your voice is any indication, I think we really like Gabriel.” Sarah teased.

“I do. We’re on a break and I think that maybe it might be over but… I really like him.”

“Is that why you’re here?” Sarah whispered low so that the men couldn’t hear.

“Maybe. I mean, I really want to spend time with Dean. He’s good company so far and he saved my life. I kind of feel like I owe him a chance.” She fiddled with the edge of a pillow. “I leave a bunch of angry messages on his phone when the rest of my life isn’t going so great.”

“How’s that working for you?”

“Dean thinks I hate him a lot of the time… and I don’t but… I guess I felt a little betrayed when I found out.” She watched Sarah fiddle with her braid over her shoulder for a long minute. “And he wasn’t the only one who betrayed me but he was the one who wasn’t there and so… I had to deal with my mom every day. I had to find a way to get along with her so… I yelled at Dean.”

“We all yell at Dean. He’s used to it.” Sarah winked at her.

“Ain’t that the truth.” Dean muttered from the couch where he was pretending to watch the movie on the TV.

Sarah winked again. “The kids think he’s one of them and most of the time he is. One great big kid.”

“How… I mean… with the life…” Alice pursed her mouth.

“Sam and I only saw each other for about a week between months and months of distance. We knew that we connected. I’m pretty busy and it was a bit of a relief that I didn’t need to cater to a male ego as well as take over my father’s business.” She nodded knowingly to the expression on the younger woman’s face. “I met a man who was my intellectual equal, who was aesthetically pleasing to me, who required only loyalty and me. If I was busy when he came through, his visit would be longer or he would catch me the next time through if I couldn’t rearrange. No pressure.”

“No pressure?” Alice grinned.

“Well, eventually, a woman’s clock starts ticking and I put on the pressure.” She gestured to the house. “I have simple tastes but I am a very well-off woman. All I needed was a man that I loved to give me his children.”

“And a housekeeper to feed your brother-in-law?” Alice snickered.

“Yes. That too.” Sarah’s eyes burned through the girl for a long moment. “How are you doing?”

“Okay. I guess. There are some things that take getting used to but… It’s not like I jumped in ignorant. I’ve spent the last few years getting to know him.”

“Lucky girl. I’ll bet you know all his dirty little secrets. He only shares it if he knows we don’t want to hear it.” Sarah threw a handful of popcorn at him. “Selfish bastard.”

“Just because I don’t feel the need to let my inner child out to play with your inner child doesn’t make me selfish. My inner child was grounded for life when it was 16.” Dean sent them a wry smile.

“What did your inner child do?” Sarah sat up to deflect the popcorn he flicked back at her.

“Shall I make you a list? It was a busy year for me.” He sat up and cleared his throat. “I put Nair in my baby brother’s shampoo. I deflowered a Sheriff’s daughter before a hunt was over. I got piss drunk and I pissed in the car. I vomited on my dad’s tools. I got expelled from three schools in four weeks.”

“Okay. We get it. Your inner child is a bad ass.” Alice shook her head at him.

“That I am.”

“I, for one, don’t believe your inner child ever grew up.” Sarah brushed off her clothes then picked up the stray kernels to throw away. “I think that you are forever 16 years old.”

“There are therapists who might concur with you, babe.” Sam spoke up from the doorway. “Like a drug addict. I think that from the moment he accepted this life, he ceased to age emotionally.”

“Okay. Freud and… chick-Freud. Stop psychoanalyzing me. I’m never gonna pay that bill.” Dean pointed to each in turn. Then he nodded that Alice had turned her eyes away. He wasn’t sure until her hand swiped across her face. “Anyway, I’m living in the time honored tradition of following in my father’s footsteps.”

“Yeah.” Sam frowned suddenly. Alice turned her head to watch her uncle.

“Oh God. You are such a girl.” Dean groaned and shoved himself to his feet.

“I miss Dad. Okay?” Sam protested. “I wish he was still with us. I wish he had met his grandchildren. It’s perfectly natural.”

“If he was here… you two would be duking it out every night. The…” Dean fell silent. His eyes fell on his daughter. “Well, there’s no reason to waste time on shit that never happened.”

--

“He misses Dad.” Sam said by way of interruption while Alice and Sarah were following a recipe for dessert. Bonding away from the men.

“Yeah.” Alice nodded.

“I talk more about the man but Dean misses him more. Took it really hard when he died.” Sam tried to explain. “Bobby once told me that… they were best friends.”

“Your dad. Best friends with his kid?” Sarah snorted.

“Not how… Maddy’s friend’s mom is with her oldest.” Sam shook his head at her. “I’m talking about… Dean rising up to be Dad’s best friend. Not Dad coddling Dean by being Dean’s best friend.”

“That’s messed up.” Alice scoffed.

“Yeah, it was.” Sam cleared his throat. “I just wanted you to know… that as much as we rib him for being immature… there’s a reason we put up with it. When little Sam was born, it was Dean who showed us how to change a diaper and how to hold a bottle and when to start letting him cry himself to sleep. Dean kind of… got robbed as a kid.”

“Yeah. I guess I can see that.” Alice nodded. She looked up and saw the shadow in the hallway, then cleared her throat. “Okay, if you’re gonna hang out in here, you have to help.”

“What exactly are you making?” Sam straightened, eyes sliding to the corner of his eye but he didn’t turn his head.

“It’s a ladyfinger trifle.” Sarah pointed to the hallway. “It’s for after dinner and if I find you sticking your fingers in it, so help me.”

“You’re gonna what?” Dean stepped into the kitchen, beer in hand. “Glare at me? Nice try, Medusa.”

--

Dean rose from the cheap bedspread when his phone rang. He shut off the ringer just as his date emerged from the bathroom wearing a good deal less than she had going in. He let his southern brain do all the work. Then it was over and she was asleep and he had nothing to occupy himself with.

It had become rote when he was a younger man with a stronger libido. Smooth soft bellies against his thigh, pushing out air through sour whisky breath, breasts against his ribs and a mass of color treated hair on his shoulder. Manicured nails on his belly. Dried sweat everywhere.

He must have managed to doze off because he jumped awake when the knock on the door came. It was still dark out so it couldn’t be housekeeping. His date had paid for the room so there wasn’t supposed to be a call on the credit card. He eased out of bed to look for his shorts and just hoped to whoever listening that his date didn’t have an irate boyfriend or husband on the other side of that door.

Swinging the door open, he suddenly wished he’d found more of his clothes. Glancing over his shoulder, he stepped up to fill the doorway with his body and crossed his arms over his chest. “Alice? What are you doing here?”

“You just… kind of took off and…” Alice sniffed and shoved her hands into her pockets. “Sorry… I’ll just… see you later.” She spun and headed for what looked like Sarah’s car.

“Alice.” Dean called after her. Rubbing his arms and cursing the cold, he ran after her. “Alice.”

“I was worried, okay!” She spun on him. “You just mumbled something about getting a drink and that was like 8 hours ago.” She stared up at him. “What was I supposed to think when you didn’t come back? You brought me up here. You left me alone at Uncle Sam’s. You’ve gone for drinks before but you’ve always been back by one and I…” She shook her head at him. “I’ll just see you tomorrow or something.”

Dean wanted to follow her. He’d left his wallet and all his clothes in the room. She was pissed anyway. It was probably better to give her time to cool off. He heard the car drive off just as he got back to the room. He sank onto the edge of the bed and wished he’d had more to drink.

“Did I get in the middle of something?” His date asked softly.

“Just my kid. She tracked me down.” Dean shrugged.

“You needed somewhere?”

“No… I think she’s just trying to tell me I’m too old for this shit.” He snagged his pants off the floor. “Need a ride home?”

--

Sarah waved to him around her coffee cup when he ambled in after dawn. “Morning, stranger.”

“She bring you back your car?” Dean poured himself a cup.

“Yeah.” Sarah nodded. “She was upset.” Her brown eyes bored through him. “I thought we were pretty straight with her but I guess we made too many jokes for her to believe any of it.” She took another gulp of coffee. “She got used to knowing where you were all the time. She didn’t understand why we weren’t worried.”

“How long was she out looking?”

“Not long. I gave her two starting points and about three end points.” She poured herself another cup and doctored it a bit. “It happens to every girl. Eventually we all find out that Dad is just another word for Man. She not used to you and all your ways, Dean. You spoiled her.”

“How did I do that?”

“You saved her life. You took her on a road trip and you introduced her to a family she didn’t know she had and you held her hand the whole way and then you dropped her cold to go chase some tail.” She held up a hand against his protest. “I’m just saying. Sam and I are perfectly used to getting dropped so you can go prowl. The kids know that some nights their Uncle Dean doesn’t come home until dawn or at all for weeks at a time. She’s your daughter and she still doesn’t know you.”

“Well. I can… hardly… I mean… I never lied to her. I always told her the truth.”

“I know. She’s romanticized you, Dean. She has this memory of a man who made her smile in a park when she was four. Then she meets him again at her high school graduation, then finds out that this strange and mysterious man is in fact her biological father. She spends the next three years reading letters that you wrote her as she grew up. You showed her a side of you that you never showed us.” Sarah put her hand on his shoulders. “You painted her a picture of someone who was willing to be open and forthcoming and then you showed up, guns blazing to save the day. It just took her a while to realize that your flaws aren’t something that translate to paper.”

“I was never cut out to be a father, Sarah.” Dean admitted aloud. “I was bred to be a hunter. I don’t know how to do anything else. It’s too late in the game to change how I live my life.”

“No one’s asking you to.” She hugged him and was glad that he let her. “She’s just disappointed. It happens. We know you. She’s still got this idea of who you are and she’s having trouble matching it to the man she’s still getting to know.”

“You speaking from experience?”

“You think you’re the first man to get busted on a bootie call by his grown daughter?”

TBC

[DMartinez]

Part 8

Dean sat on the hammock for a long time, tucking Alice’s feet under his arm when he had climbed in. She didn’t talk for a long time. “Was that what it was like for you and my mom?”

“Pretty much.” Dean acknowledged.

“It’s just… My mom paints this picture of good girl done wrong and then you say ‘ships passing’ and it never really, really clicked what I really was.” She looked up at him. “I’m an accident.”

“Even children of married couples are accidents.” He pointed out.

“Mom’s been with Christopher for longer than I can remember. I don’t have any reference for her being the kind of girl who would go to bed with a stranger.”

“It’s probably better that way.” Dean thumped her knee. “I don’t know your mom. I can’t say a thing about her. Know this… it’s your dad who’s the whore.” He cut off her protest. “If she’s got a nice ass and great rack, I’m happy to take her to bed.”

“That’s not very responsible.”

Dean stared at her hard. “Of all the mistakes that I’ve made in my life. You’re one that I don’t regret.” He sat up, nearly upsetting their balance so that he could make sure she heard him. “If I had to be this old in my life and I didn’t have a kid, I would probably kill myself.”

“How do you know that you don’t have more kids? I could have half-brothers and -sisters out there.” She pointed out softly.

“I don’t know. You’re right… but you’re the only one that I know about, so you’re the one that counts.”

--

The night was still. Dean wanted a drink and a lay but he still felt bad for disappointing Alice. He didn’t know how much longer they had together before she had to be back in school. He really shouldn’t waste it. Trudging his way through the shopping center, he found the restaurant that he was meeting the rest of the clan at for dinner. He had to stop short so he could really see what he thought he was seeing.

Team Winchester on everyone’s shirts. Maddy and Sammy Too had a subtitle on theirs. “Mommy made us wear these because she wears the pants in the family.”

Sam’s boasted. “My wife used my allowance to pay for this shirt.”

Sarah’s did make Dean laugh out loud. “My trophy husband is well trained.”

Then he saw Alice’s shirt. “Team Winchester. My Dad is Bad Ass.”

When he finally joined them, she handed him a shirt. He spread it out over his hands. “I’m the Bad Ass.” He grinned then looked up at all of them. “So, uh… what’s going on?”

“It’s a family reunion.” Sam patted his brother on the shoulder. “Figured we’d make it official.” Then he slugged his brother in the arm. “So join the family and put your shirt on.”

Dean shrugged out of his jacket and pulled the T-shirt on over his long sleeve shirt. He almost took his jacket back but Alice had slung it over the back of their bench so that everyone could know that they were all six Team Winchester.

There was conversation and laughter. Sam managed to tell stories about Grandpa Winchester that were heartwarming and sometimes even funny. Dean had to censor his mouth for the little ones but managed to relate a tale or two that were more or less intact for the sake of the little outing. Alice sipped her beer while her father and uncle argued over the best weapon to have on hand in the event of a surprise attack from a vampire, however unlikely that would be since they were practically extinct. Dean favored a machete and Sam preferred an ax.

“Wuss.” Dean breathed into his beer bottle. “Too heavy to be worth lugging around.”

“The blade does most of the work for you.”

“It’s still too heavy. Machete is light and uses the same amount of power to cut.”

“Guys, I hate to cut this short.” Sarah interrupted from where she was smoothing Maddy’s hair away from her face. “The kids are falling asleep.”

“Okay. Meet you two at the house.” Sam pulled out his wallet and waved to the host.

Dean tossed Alice a look. She nodded and polished off her beer. They found the Impala and sat in it for a good twenty minutes. “Why didn’t you tell me this was a send off party?”

Alice only shrugged. She slipped off her shoes and propped her feet up on the dashboard. It was another ten minutes before she spoke. “I guess I’m realizing how much I’m holding you back right now.”

“It’s not like I have a job to get back to.”

“Yeah, you do.” She tilted her head at him. “You were doing your job when you saved me. I need to get back to my life. I can’t hide forever.”

Dean ran his hands over the steering wheel but didn’t start the engine. “When did you want to start back?”

“Tomorrow?”

“We can do that.”

“Dean… can you promise me that you’ll answer your phone when I call you?” Silence was her answer. She stared straight ahead at other families drifting from the stores to their cars. “Will you at least stop by when you’re in Texas?”

“Maybe.”

“Or if I come up to visit Uncle Sam and Aunt Sarah?”

“If you’re heading this way, I will, too.”

“I want us to keep in touch.”

“Yeah. That’d be cool.” Dean nodded and turned the key. “Come on. Let’s go get you packed up. Marta will want to pack us some food for the road.”

TBC

[DMartinez]

Epilogue

Alice held on for dear life. It felt like her insides were trying to get to the outside. Dean’s hand held her ankle to keep her from sliding too much. He sped around corners and into the ambulance bay. He shouted orders as he jumped out and raced around to the other door. There was so much blood. “Help us!”

--

Dean leaned against the glass of the ICU window, staring at his daughter. He knew what would happen. In a day or two, the money would run out. They’d want to take her off ventilation. Then if he insisted on keeping her alive, Shannon and Christopher would come and one of them would call the cops and then he’d be in prison while Alice wasted away in that bed.

--

Dean buried the box and waited. He hated to be away from Alice for any length of time but there was no way he was going to be the reason that she died before her 22nd birthday. Then the demon showed up, smirking and condescending. She was young and beautiful, just like all the other women who had been possessed before her. “Dean, oh Dean. It is so good to see you. What do you have for me today? Bullets? Devil’s traps?”

“Me. I brought me.”

“You… well… you aren’t as young as you used to be but I hear that you’re still a good romp in the sack… but this body is… well, not as equipped as its exterior might imply. I’m not sure if I’m a dude or if I’m a hermaphrodite.”

“That is so sick…” Dean shook his head and decided that it would all be worth it. “I want to make a deal.”

“Hmm… a deal for Dean.” She walked in careful circles around him. “A deal… hmm… whatever could you offer me?”

--

Alice woke up alone and choking. Within minutes, the entire floor’s staff was in her room and pulling at tubes and taking vitals. Once the panic was over and she was breathing on her own, she saw Dean rush into the room. As soon as the doctors let him, he was sitting by her side and brushing her hair out of her face. “Hey, hey… Alice…”

“Dad, I’m… I was scared. I woke up and you weren’t here…” She sniffed and had never in her life wanted to be held so bad.

“Yeah, I’m here now. You’re okay.”

“Dean… I want to go home.”

“I know. I called your mom, she’s heading up here.”

“No, just… go home with you and Uncle Sam.”

“We’ll talk about it after you get some rest.”

--

Alice leaned against Dean while she struggled to sit up and dismantle the rifle. It took some doing but she did it on her own. Dean instructed her softly on how the pieces were to be cleaned and then helped her put it back together.

--

Alice set down her pen when Sam sat down across from her. “I think I like this library.”

“What are you doing here?” Alice shook her head at him.

“I just dropped by for a visit.” He shrugged and stared at her. “I uh… I just wanted to talk to you.”

“What?” She frowned at him. “I’m not a part of the family. I know that. I just…”

“Who told you that?”

“Well, no one came to the funeral and I…”

“It’s not safe for me to go to a funeral like that.” Sam tried to placate her. “I’m on the wanted list too and I just barely get by with Sarah. I wanted to ask you what happened.”

Alice took a deep breath and fiddled with her pen for a full minute. She looked up at him with water-filled eyes. “It was stupid. I saw it happening from the car on the drive home. He didn’t want to stop but I threatened to jump out. So he went to investigate and I was supposed to wait in the car but I heard screaming. I… I went in after him. It was some kind of creature and I got hit and I don’t remember a whole lot after that. I’ve got a bunch of stitches in my stomach and I remember the drive to the hospital but just barely and I don’t remember anything until I woke up with tubes everywhere and Dean wasn’t there. By the time the doctors had checked me out, he was back and he was… quiet.”

“So…”

“So, I was there a few days for observation. He stayed with me the whole time. He snuck the Winchester in so that he could teach me how to clean it. The nurses got mad at him.” She smiled to herself. “Then we went to a hotel so that we both could get some rest because he had called my mom and she was gonna pick me up and take me home to recuperate.” Then she frowned. “He was being really awesome, you know? Very… un-Dean-like. I almost spiked his coffee with holy water. He was telling me all these stories about your parents. About living with Bobby Singer and getting ammo from Caleb and drinking coffee with Pastor Jim. Just… talking so friggin’ much. And asking questions about my life. I’m not saying he never cared before but it was like… having a slumber party with your dad, you know?”

“When did it happen?”

“The morning after my mom got there. The three of us sat down to talk. Dean didn’t say much to Mom… Let her yell. Then explained that he was going to have one more night with me and then I could go wherever. I thought it was weird but he was insistent and I just wanted to spend more time with him.” She sniffed loudly and tried to cover the sound. “So… he took me out to this lake and we were drinking and having a good time. We watched the sunset. Then he spent the whole night talking until I fell asleep. When I woke up, he was sitting up across from me and his eyes were closed. I thought he had fallen asleep sitting up but when I touched him, he fell over. I tried CPR and everything. He was already gone.”

Sam nodded, his chin quivering. “What did Dean tell you about how our dad died?”

“Car wreck?” Alice struggled for the details of that story but that’s all she remembered.

“Not exactly.” Sam pulled a flask out of his jacket and took a sip before offering it to her. “See, we had been hunting the demon that killed our mom when all kinds of crazy bad shit happened. We had this gun that could kill a demon with one fatal shot. Dead, not to hell, just gone dead. Then we were all injured fighting it when it possessed Dad. We got it out of him and we were on our way to get Dean some help when the semi hit us. Dad got stuck in the car. I got banged up. Dean was… unconscious. By the time we got to the hospital and everyone had been looked at… Dean was in a coma and they said that he might not make it.”

Alice felt the pause heavy in her heart. She knew the end of the story but it wasn’t making sense. “Uncle Sam?”

“See, Dad wasn’t hurt too badly. He had a broken arm and a few cuts. I was banged up but Dean was so much worse off because the Demon had really gone at him the night before. It was a long few days. Dean kept coding and every time, my dad just… kept sinking further and further into himself. I kept begging for him to do something but he just kept sitting there next to Dean and I was so angry.” Sam took a huge breath and a sip of his whiskey. “Then Dean woke up. He was fine.”

“Just like that?”

“Just like that. Miracle, right?” Sam’s smile was not that of a happy man. Alice just nodded. “That’s what I thought. We were… getting along, the three of us and then… I went to get Dad some coffee. When I got back he was dead. Just like that.”

“What did the doctor’s say?”

“They could not explain it.” Sam stared at her. “But the gun was gone. The one that could kill a demon. It didn’t take me long to figure out that Dad had sold his soul so that Dean would live.”

“What?”

“It can happen and it did. John Winchester, the man that Dean has been telling you about for weeks now… he sold his soul and he went to hell so that Dean would live. It really fucked Dean up.” Sam let a tear fall down his face. “Dean never saw himself as worthy of love and normal life and all that. He chose hunting because he was fucking nuts. He chose it. He was 16 years old when he decided that he was going to hunt for the rest of his life. He was crazy but I love him because he was my brother and he took care of me my whole life.”

“What are you saying?” Alice’s eyes were overflowing.

“I want you to know what kind of man Dean was. I want you to know that he loved you beyond everything else in this life.” He gripped her hands in his. “I want you to know that you are family and if you ever need anything and I can get it for you, I will. I will be for you what Dean was trying to be. Okay?”

“Uncle Sam… just say it.”

“I think Dean sold his soul so that you could live.” Her face. Sam would have given anything not to have told her that but he had to. “You didn’t kill him. Okay? He made a choice.” Sam drew in a deep breath. “Be mad at him for putting this on you but know that he loved you enough to take your place.”

“But I wasn’t going to hell.”

“No.”

“Is that why you told me?”

“Yes.” Sam admitted. “I can’t let him stay in hell. Imagine what happens to cops who end up in the same prison with inmates they put away… Dean’s in hell with demons and spirits that he put there.” He cleared his throat. “This is my job but he’s your father. You want in?”

The END