The Ghost of Christmas Now
Disclaimer: The characters of Supernatural do not belong to me. The original characters of Kayla and Mary Winchester do.
Warning: This story deals with the aftermath of a teenager being sexually assaulted.
A/N: So, this story may seem like Sam bashing, but it isn't, I promise. I wasn't intending to split it up into two parts, but the ending in this first part fits. The second part will explain everything from the first, just give me a couple days to get it written.
Sam hadn't thought it possible to feel this happy, this content, this complete. For the first time in months, both his children were falling asleep under the same roof, in their own house. It was Christmas Eve, and for the moment, all the drama and tension from the past year seemed to be behind them. Sam helped Jess finish setting up for Santa's arrival for Mary, then headed off to bed. After checking on Kayla and Mary, he fell asleep quickly.
"Samuel Winchester."
Sam jumped in bed, startled by the sound of a new voice that hadn't been there before. There was an older woman there, in her mid to late fifties, Sam decided. She looked familiar, though Sam couldn't quite place her.
"Who the hell are you?"
"You'll learn that in time."
"What does that mean?" Sam asked. "Where did you come from?"
"That's not important." the woman said.
"What are you doing here?"
"I'm here to show you something." the woman said mysteriously. "You made a Christmas wish. I'm here to grant it."
"What Christmas wish?" Sam asked.
"To understand your daughter and why she hurts the way she does."
Sam was baffled. "That was a year ago."
Exactly one year earlier, Sam had gone to sleep Christmas Eve night feeling considerably less peaceful. Kayla was in the midst of a drastic mood change, alternating between snapping at her parents and wanting nothing to do with them and clinging to them. She was withdrawing into herself, and Sam had wanted to know why. He knew now, but it had come at a cost.
"You weren't ready to know the truth then. Not the whole truth."
"The whole truth?" Sam asked.
"Come with me. I can help you understand, but you have to live through it first."
"Live through what?"
"Certain memories that Kayla has." the woman said. "Without them, you'll never know."
"Know?"
"I can't tell you anymore. It's your choice now. Will you come or no?"
Sam would never know what made him do it. Despite not having hunted for nearly two full decades, his hunter instincts had never faded. But he couldn't shake the feeling that he knew this woman, and that he should trust her.
"I'll do it."
"Good. Come with me."
The woman held out her hand to Sam, and Sam took it from her. They were instantly transported back in time, and the woman released Sam's hand. Sam noticed a hunkered down Kayla sitting in the corner of the kitchen of their old house. She was crying, shaking, and clearly terrified.
"What is this?" Sam asked.
"Deep down, I think you know." the woman said.
Sam's heart sank in dread. "This is the first time it happened, isn't it?"
"Just after." the woman replied.
"Where's Art?" Sam said with gritted teeth.
"He's already left the house. Even if he hadn't, this is only a memory. You can't change it."
"Why are you showing me this?" Sam asked.
"Because you have to see. No matter how painful, you have to see."
Sam watched the shaking Kayla on the floor, then suddenly a new voice joined the memory. They can't know. Not only did Sam hear the voice, he could feel something. Emotions. Emotions that he didn't think he was actually experiencing.
"Kayla?"
"You hear it, don't you?" the woman asked. "The voice?"
"And feel. Wait, am I…Am I hearing what Kayla's thinking?" Sam asked.
"And feeling what she's feeling." the woman explained.
Sam shook his head feverishly. "No. No, I can't do this."
"It's too late to turn back." the woman said. "You have to see it. All the way through."
They can't know, the voice that Sam had now identified as Kayla's thought again. But it sounded different. Tiny. Scared. Weak. Confused. All the things that Kayla had fought so hard to make everyone think she wasn't. All the things that Sam believed she wasn't.
Suddenly, Kayla startled. The key was turning in the front door. They can't know, she thought again, and quickly stood up and wiped her face. She couldn't stop crying, though, and knew she would have to tell her parents something, so she took a kitchen knife and sliced one of her fingers.
"What the hell is she doing?"
"Trying to give you a believable reason for her crying." the woman explained.
Sam watched as Kayla quickly grabbed two pieces of bread and the jar of peanut butter and placed them on the counter. She streaked her blood a little on the bread and then placed it back on the counter. She was now free to cry as much as she wanted.
"Kay'a, we home!" Mary called. She was the first to make it to the kitchen and see her crying, upset sister. "Mommy! Daddy! Kay'a's hurt!"
In came two pairs of feet pounding the floor. "Kayla? What happened?"
Kayla was so upset she didn't even know which parent was speaking to her at first. "I went to make myself a sandwich and the knife slipped."
"Let me see."
That voice definitely belonged to her father. He gently took her hand and examined the wound. As bizarre as it was watching himself take care of Kayla, that wasn't the strangest part of the whole ordeal for Sam. He could actually feel Kayla's apprehension. Her chest tightened and she held her breath. Please don't be mad at me, Daddy. I need you right now. The tightness dissipated in both Sam and Kayla as Sam watched himself smile at Kayla and reassure her,
"It's not too bad. You should be okay."
I better make sure, Sam could hear Kayla thinking.
"You're not mad?"
"Why would I be mad, sweetie? It was an accident."
Sam noticed something then that his past self had been too concerned about Kayla to notice. Kayla looked away from them and to the floor, a sure sign that she was lying. She had never been able to successfully lie to Sam before that. That I knew about, Sam thought.
The rest of the scene played out and Sam felt nauseous. He watched Kayla cry, much more than was normal for a relatively small injury. He watched as Kayla made a conscious effort to stop crying, and when asked about it, she simply said,
"It just scared me really bad, Mommy. Getting hurt and being here by myself."
That was truer than I ever thought, Sam thought to himself as he watched the memory version of himself clean up the first aid kit and Jess hug Kayla, reassuring her over and over "Mommy's here, baby. Mommy's here." Sam could feel Kayla's desperation to hang onto her mother and never let go. He also heard her thoughts, and they drove a spike through his heart and soul. But it wasn't Kayla speaking this time. It was Art.
You're disgusting.
You've been seducing me for years. This is your fault.
Tell your parents and I'll go after that precious sister of yours.
"Son of a bitch." Sam muttered under his breath. "I wish I could kill you over and over."
"This is only the beginning." The woman said, reaching out her hand to Sam.
"I don't know if I can take much more." Sam admitted, even as he took her hand in his.
The memory shifted. Kayla was a few months older. She was sitting in her room, on her bed, snuggling and tickling a delighted Mary. Sam was confused. Kayla actually looked happy in this memory.
"Why are we here? Kayla's happy here."
"On the outside." The woman answered. "What does she feel?"
And that's when Sam realized that he felt numb. Completely numb all over. Though Mary's visit lifted Kayla's spirit slightly, she could barely breathe from the emptiness inside her.
"Oh, no." Sam said.
He knew which memory he was in now. Kayla was grounded because her attitude had gotten way out of control. She was supposed to stay in her room and go to school, nothing else. Sam had heard Mary giggling down the hall and gone to investigate. Sure enough, he turned up in Kayla's room a minute later.
"Mary, leave your sister alone."
Kayla grabbed Mary and squeezed her tight, making her giggle again. "She's not bothering me."
But Sam could hear her thoughts again. Please don't take her away from me, Daddy.
"You're supposed to be writing that essay for your mom."
"It's right there on my desk." Kayla pointed.
Sam walked to Kayla's desk, glanced at the essay, and shook his head. "Do it again. You can do better than this."
"Mommy said one page."
"And I'm telling you more." Sam had snapped impatiently. "You've been way off acceptable behavior this week, little girl."
"Don't call me that." Kayla fumed.
"Then stop acting like it and start taking responsibility for your own actions!"
"Why don't you let Mommy decide if it's good enough or not, since it's her punishment?"
"Because she isn't the only one you've been rude to lately." the Sam in the memory said.
"Fine. I'll do it over again."
"Do it as many times as it takes for you to drop the attitude. I'm sick of it, Kayla."
"Why did you even come in here? What, you heard me and Mary happy so you decided to break it up?" Kayla asked.
"Enough. Mary, let's go."
"No. I want to stay with Kayla." Mary said, grabbing Kayla's arm.
"Mary, now."
"Please, Daddy?" Mary said. "Kayla needs me."
"It's okay, Mary." Kayla said. "Go with Daddy."
"No. Daddy's being mean to you for no reason. You're my sister and no one can keep me away from you."
"That's right." Kayla said. "I promise, no matter what, I'm always your sister. But go with Daddy right now. He's right. I have been…bad lately. Go on and go with Daddy, and if he'll let me later, I'll read you a story."
"Okay. Are you still sad?"
Kayla swallowed, and Sam nearly wept watching it. He could tell, now, that she was lying, but then, he'd been too preoccupied trying to figure out what Mary meant by Kayla being sad.
"No, I'm not." Kayla said. "Thank you for helping me."
"You welcome. I loves you sissy." Mary said. She climbed onto her knees to hug Kayla around the neck. "Loves you bunches and bunches."
"I know you do." Kayla said. "Thank you, baby. And I love you too. Bunches and bunches. Go on. Go."
"'Kay." Mary turned and glared at her father. "Why won't you tell Kayla you love her?"
The question stung Sam the second time as much as the first. The first tear fell down and Sam had a bad feeling he was in for more.
"What?" the Sam in the memory asked.
"That's why she's so sad. 'Cause she doesn't think you love her anymore and you won't tell her." Mary said. "Why are you being so mean to her?"
"Mary, stop." Kayla said. "I appreciate you trying, but Daddy's right. You should go play with him."
"I'm going to my room to play by myself." Mary said. "I'm not playing with Daddy again until he's nice to you."
Mary stomped out of the room back toward hers, leaving behind a stunned Sam and a hurting Kayla. In the silence of the room, Sam heard Kayla's thoughts again, and he worried his heart would shatter. It's your fault for being happy for a minute.
"Kay?" The Sam in the memory said, while the real one could barely stomach his own behavior. "Is that true?"
"Is what true?"
"That you're sad because I haven't said 'I love you'." Sam said. "Is it?"
"Mary exaggerates stuff." Kayla said.
"Honey, I do love you. You know that, right?"
"I know."
"Please talk to me."
"I've got an essay to do." Kayla said. "Apparently mine's not good enough."
"Why don't we go out for ice cream?" Sam suggested.
Kayla pulled herself off the bed and headed to the desk. "No thanks."
"Sweetie, are you mad at me?" Sam asked. "Is that what this is about?"
"Please just leave me alone." Kayla said, balling her essay up and throwing it into her trash can. "I've got work to do."
"I'll send Mary back in here." Sam said. "I'm sorry, Kay. You're right, I should've left you alone."
"I wasn't breaking my grounding. Mom never said I couldn't see Mary." Kayla said bitterly. "I didn't realize part of my punishment was solitary confinement."
"I'm trying to apologize."
"Well, like you tell me all the time, sorry isn't enough. Now please leave me alone."
Sam watched as he turned and left out of Kayla's room. He remembered what he'd done after that. He'd gone to his bedroom and punched the wall, and had to explain the big gaping hole in the wall to Jess later on. He'd also had to hear the lecture from her about separating Mary from Kayla and dismissing any efforts Kayla made to do better.
What Sam saw and heard now made him wish there was something else around for him to break. As soon as Kayla heard him punch the wall in his own room, she walked to her door and closed it. She wanted to slam it, but didn't want to risk Sam coming in and lecturing her again. When the door was shut, Kayla slunk to the floor next to her bed. She was too tired to cry. But Sam could feel it. Her heart was throbbing again, and that ugly voice was taunting her.
You're no good for anyone.
Not even Mary.
You don't deserve this family.
"Time to go." the woman said.
"What the hell did I do?" Sam said. "I hurt her as much as Art did."
"No. You didn't. Not even close." the woman said, running a hand up and down Sam's arm for comfort. "But you do need to finish this."
"I don't know if I can."
"You can. There's only a little more." the woman said.
Sam swallowed and took her hand. "Okay."
The memory shifted, and this time Kayla was sitting in the backseat of Sam's car. The sun was about to go down, and the atmosphere in the car was tense. Only when Sam started hearing Kayla's thoughts did he realize where they were.
Maybe they're giving me another shot.
I should do better. A lot better. They deserve better.
I'll tell them tonight at dinner.
Sam watched himself pull into the parking lot of the restaurant and heard a sound that had become increasingly rare over the preceding months. Kayla laughed. He remembered at the time nearly abandoning his plan when he'd heard Kayla laugh. He'd wondered if he'd ever hear her laugh again, and the thought that what he was about to do could mean that he might never hear it again…
"I can't do this."
"You have to." the woman said.
"Why the hell do I have to?" Sam shouted. Kayla grabbed her mother's arm as they went inside, and the scene transformed again. "Don't you think I understand? That I hurt Kayla too? If that's the point of this, then I get it. I hurt her, okay? I understand that."
"I won't lie. You did cause her pain. But you need to see the rest of this. Not just for yourself. But for Kayla too."
"Fine." Sam said. "Go on."
They were sitting at the table inside Mama Rita's. They'd just ordered, and Kayla was working with the placemat and the crayons at the table. Kayla had always played with anything put in front of her-crayons and paper, books, toys, games. Sam had always found it endearing, and now that he hadn't seen it in so long, he longed for it more than anything else in the world. Sam watched himself and Jess squirming, trying to figure out how to break the news to Kayla.
"You want to help me, Mommy?"
Jess, startled at Kayla talking to her after so long, asked, "What?"
"Do you want to help me?"
"In a minute, babe. Daddy and I want to talk to you about something." Jess said.
"Okay." This is it, Kayla thought. Tell them.
"Kayla, your mommy and I've been talking this week." Sam watched himself say. "We've decided that it might be best for you to go to your grandpa's for a while."
Kayla stopped whatever she was doing on the placemat and stared at her parents. "What?"
"You're going to your grandpa's for a while."
Kayla swallowed hard as she tried to process what her parents were saying. Grasping onto hope that she'd misunderstood them, Kayla asked, "We're taking a vacation or something?"
"No, Kayla." Sam said. "You're going to live with your grandpa and uncle Bobby." When Kayla said nothing in response, Sam continued. "Your flight leaves at ten tomorrow. We'll leave the house at seven and take you as far as security. If there's time, we'll sit in the airport with you for a few minutes before you leave, but we'll have to see on that. You'll be at Grandpa's by two."
Sam actually felt the hope draining out of Kayla. She gripped the crayon in her hand so hard that it broke. At the time, Sam had assumed it was anger that had caused her to break the crayon in her hand. But again, he could hear what she was truly thinking and feeling.
You did it. You pushed them away. Good job, you disgusting, selfish good for nothing.
"Kay? Honey? Talk to us, please." Jess begged. "Say something."
"What do you want me to say?" Kayla asked, putting the crayon down and leaning against the seat behind her.
"Anything." Jess said. "Anything, baby. Please just talk to us."
"You've made it pretty clear how you feel. There's nothing to say."
"Kayla, this isn't about punishing you." Sam explained. "It's about giving you some time to get yourself together."
"Wasn't aware I wasn't together." Kayla said bitterly.
"Don't get smart with me, Kayla. Now is not the time."
"What difference does it make now?" Kayla asked. "You want me to talk? Talk about how I'm feeling? Fine. I feel stupid."
"You are not stupid." Jess said.
"Apparently, I am. Because I was stupid enough to feel bad in the car for thinking about running away last week. Turns out I would've just saved you the plane ticket." Kayla said.
"Kayla, you're doing this whether you want to or not. Now we can sit here and we can have a nice dinner, or we can eat in silence. It's your choice."
"I'm not hungry anymore."
"That's too bad. I don't care what you want anymore. Maybe once you're gone for a while you'll realize how blessed you really are."
"I'm a damn idiot." Sam said to himself, but of course his counterpart in Kayla's memory never heard him. "Kayla was the blessing and I screwed it up."
"This isn't the end." the woman said simply.
The memory shifted, and it was nighttime now. The three of them were pulling into the driveway. The Sam in the car was silent, Kayla was silent, and Jess was crying softly in the front seat. Kayla got out of the car and walked into the house, and Sam was finding it increasingly hard to breathe. Kayla ran to her room, and slammed the door. She saw a bag packed in the corner and took a couple things off of her desk to throw in frustration. Sam and Jess came in, wished her a quick good night, and headed off to their room.
In the dark of the night, Kayla couldn't hide it anymore. After almost a half hour of sitting on her bed in silence, Kayla reached under her mattress and pulled something out. Sam stepped closer, and saw it was a picture of Kayla and Leslie. Kayla was three, dressed in a suit as a lawyer and beaming with pride at her choice. The knot in the middle of Sam's chest tightened, and Kayla began to speak. For the first time in the whole bizarre experience, Kayla actually said what she was thinking. With a shaking voice and tears starting to fall, Kayla whispered,
"They don't want me anymore, Grandma. I'm too messed up."
"Oh, Kay." Sam said. He reached out a hand to stroke Kayla's hair, but his hand went straight through her.
"I don't know what to do anymore, Grandma. I need help. It hurts all the time. I don't mean to be mean to everyone, but I just don't feel good about myself. Ever."
Sam didn't think he'd ever breathe again.
"Now I can't even stay home. I don't deserve a mommy and a daddy. I'd say I wish you were here. I know that you'd never let them do this. But I don't think even you could love me like this."
"I can't take this." Sam said. "I can't stand this."
"That's not the worst of it."
Sam started to ask what she meant, then Kayla answered the question for him.
"I should have died with you."
Sam choked, and for the first time, the mysterious woman seemed concerned. "Are you alright?"
"No. No, I'm not alright. I'm not even close to alright." Sam said.
He walked away, then got frustrated when he realized he couldn't walk away. Sam ran a hand through his hair, wanting more anything to reach out and take Kayla and never let her go. Kayla was done talking and down to crying, and for once, Sam preferred that. He didn't know if he could take anymore of Kayla beating herself up.
"I never knew she was suicidal." Sam said.
The mystery woman offered Sam a comforting hand. "She never was. Not really. This was her lowest point. Things got better the next day when your father helped her take advantage of her new start."
"So she started feeling better about herself?" Sam asked.
"It was a slow process, but yes." the woman said. "But don't get comfortable yet. You've got one more memory."
"I can't."
"You can. And I promise, after this memory, I'll tell you who I am and why I felt you needed to see all this." the woman said. "I promise, this one's not as bad."
"Fine." Sam said. "Let's get this over with."
The memory shifted again. Kayla's room while she'd lived with John. The energy in this memory was different. Kayla wasn't sad, or depressed, or hurting. She was nervous. Sam saw her schoolbooks scattered on the bed, and a piece of paper in her hand.
"The play."
"Yes." the woman said.
"She doesn't seem…she seems okay."
"She's nervous. About the play, and something else." the woman said.
Sam noticed Kayla pick up the phone that was sitting on her bed. She dialed their home phone number and waited with a jittery expectation as the phone rang. The conversation was easy enough. Kayla wanted Sam and Jess to come to her play. Sam remembered well enough what his and Jess's reaction had been. Guilt. But, watching Kayla hang up the phone with a smile on her face, he thought that this was somehow worse. Because he could feel it with every fiber of his being. The hope. The absolute certainty that Mommy and Daddy would be there, and that everything was going to be okay.
"But we didn't go."
"True. And she was disappointed for a few days. But there's a difference in this memory and the ones before."
"What's that?" Sam asked.
"Watch."
Kayla hung up and threw the phone and threw it down on the bed. The dark thoughts that Sam had dreaded hearing were coming back. You should have known better than to think they'd be interested in your stupid play.
"You should be getting ready for bed."
Kayla looked up and saw John standing in the doorway to her room. "Yes, sir. I'm going now."
"You okay?"
"I called mommy and daddy and asked them to come to my play." Kayla said.
"I see. What did they say?"
"That they couldn't be here." Kayla said.
"I'm sorry, kiddo. I know you're disappointed."
Kayla nodded, fighting the tears brimming at her eyes.
"Bobby and I will be there. We'll film it. They will see it." John said.
"I'm not going."
"What do you mean you're not going?" John asked.
Kayla sniffed. "It's not worth it anymore."
"You've worked so hard on this. Don't throw it away."
"I won't be able to do it without looking out and hoping they'll be there." Kayla said. "I'll be too distracted."
"You know," John said, walking inside and grabbing the phone from Kayla's bed before taking a seat, "when your dad was your age, he felt like this a lot."
"He did?"
"Yeah. I wasn't there for him nearly as much as I should have been. It was mostly your uncle Dean that went to school plays and things like that for your dad." John said.
"I didn't know that."
"That's because when you were born, your dad told me that I had to treat you differently or I wouldn't be allowed to see you."
"Daddy said that?" Kayla asked.
"He did." John said. "And I'm glad he did."
"Why?"
"Because it gave me another chance." John said. "See, your dad thought that just because I wasn't there, I wasn't interested. I tried to convince him it wasn't true, but he never really believed me."
"That's how I feel now."
"But think about something. If you were home right now, would your dad go to your play?" John asked.
"Yeah. He'd help me get ready for it too."
"There you go." John said. "You know, that's one of the biggest things I ever learned, and your dad taught it to me. That our actions show a lot more than our words. So I know you're disappointed, but I promise the only reason they're not coming is because they just can't make it this weekend."
"But that's why I wanted them to come so bad!" Kayla said, frustrated. "I wanted to show them I was trying. Trying to do better. I thought that maybe…"
"Maybe what?" John asked when she went quiet.
"Maybe if I was doing better, they'd let me come home."
John sighed, and the urge to ruin Sam and Jess's surprise was strong. "I don't know what your parents are thinking about you coming home. You can ask them when you talk to them if you want."
"Maybe."
"You know, your birthday's next week. Maybe they can't come this weekend because they're planning to come for that." John said.
"If they won't come for this stupid play, they're definitely not coming for my birthday."
"Kayla, listen to me. I don't know where you're getting this idea that you don't mean the world to all of us. But it isn't true. Not by a mile." When Kayla didn't respond, John asked, "Why do you feel that way? I'm not upset, I just don't understand."
"I don't know. I just feel that way sometimes."
"Sometimes? Or all the time?" John asked.
Every second of every day and night, Kayla thought. "Sometimes."
"When you start feeling that way, tell someone. We can't help you if we don't know something's going on. Promise me you'll do that."
"Promise." Kayla said.
"And think about this. Bobby and I don't waste time with anything we don't think is important. And we're going to your play. We're pretty excited about it."
Kayla finally smiled. "Really?"
"Really. And your mom and dad will see it, I promise. But you don't want to let me and Bobby down, do you?"
"No. I don't." Kayla said. "Thanks, grandpa."
"You're welcome, kiddo." John said. "Go on, wash up and get ready for bed."
Sam had tears in his eyes, but these tears were different. "My dad helped her?"
"He did." the woman said. "I can't explain why, but at that moment, your dad had to turn the tide. He had to be the one to convince Kayla she was still worth something."
"Okay, I've done everything you asked of me. I've gone through all these memories and feel like a complete screw up. Now who are you?"
"Take a good look at me. I think you know."
Sam looked at the woman's face, and the truth dawned on him. Her eyes, the shape of her face, her smile. "Kayla?"
The mystery woman nodded and smiled. "Hi, Daddy. It's been a long time."