"So, what's our boy here weigh?" Sam asked. Dean could tell Sam was trying to distract the forensics officer from the awkward drug-related conversation. Not very good for their cover. Dean knew half the stuff he was doing these days was completely inappropriate, knew he was worrying the fuck out of Sam, but Dean just couldn't stop. It was like he didn't give a damn anymore. If Dean was being honest, he was starting to scare himself.
"Uh. A buck ninety. Thrown against a wall so hard it buckled. Based on the blood flow at the crime scene, the hands and feet were cut off while he was still alive, just like the others. Clearly wanted him to suffer," the forensics officer said. Dean sort of wished he could remember the kid's name. Dave or Derek or something. Cody?
"And all the vics are male, right, with the same kind of artwork as this?" Dean asked, knowing the answer.
"Yeah. Identical." Great, they had to deal with some super-strong misandrist. Fun. Dean could see Sam taking a picture of the man's chest with his phone.
"So, uh, DNA left at any of the scenes?" Sam asked.
"All of them. One before this, the guy bit the attacker. Still had a chunk of flesh in his teeth when he came in. That's about as good as it gets."
"Right," Dean said. Well, that's not disgusting.
"So, we have a match?" Sam asked.
"We do not," Cody or Calvin or whatever said, hitting a button on the keyboard. A window popped up with the words, 'Sample Rejected. No Known Genetic Markers.' "The samples were rejected," Chris or Charley continued. "The genetic markers don't match anything we've ever seen." Dammit, that probably meant they'd have to work a case.
"Didn't match any person in the database?" Dean asked, trying desperately to hide the hope in his voice. He really wasn't up to working a case right now.
"No, I mean they don't match anything human," the forensics officer (Nate?) replied. Dean made a noise and followed Sam out of the building. Sam, the freak he was, was staring at the pictures of that poor guy.
"I'll admit it could be in the general vicinity...of the ballpark of our kind of thing," Dean said.
"Yeah, uh, 'didn't match anything human' usually seals the deal for me," Mr. Smartass said. "I don't know, I've never seen this symbol before." Sam touched Dean's shoulder and Dean turned to look at him. "Let's get a bite to eat, go back to the motel, haul out the laptop."
"That's a great idea. Actually, that's a brilliant idea. Here's my counter. You do that, I'll go undercover, go mingle amongst the locals and see, uh, what kind of clues bubble to the surface." Dean said. He knew Sam wasn't going to buy it.
"You're going to a bar."
"Wow. If you want to oversimplify it," Dean said, walking away before Sam could bitch at him.
Dean drove around in the car that wasn't his. He missed the Impala. He missed Bobby. And God did he ever miss Cas. It was starting to feel as though everything, his entire identity, was falling apart. His family was disappearing. The house that was a home since he was six was in ashes. The one connection to his father he had left, the car that he's driven since he was sixteen, was out of commission. Dean didn't even feel like listening to his music anymore. The only thing Dean had left was sex. It was something he knew he rocked at; he'd certainly had enough practice. It was the one thing Dean had left that was his – and only his. Sam couldn't butt his stupid big ass forehead into it. Bobby and Cas and the Impala could just melt away. Dean didn't know why he hadn't done this before. Alcohol, while effective, made him stumble and puke. Sex felt good, damn good. He could connect to people without having to spill his guts. Human connection without that stupid look. The one filled with pity. So Dean drove, drove until he found a bar. The Cobalt Room. Sounded promising. Dean got out of the car that wasn't his and entered the bar on the hunt for something that would make him feel and forget. Dean walked up to a table where a girl was sitting. She was beautiful and very, very familiar. "Lydia?" Dean said, shocked. The girl whipped around, wide eyed.
. . .
Dean was eighteen. There wasn't a hunt in sight, money was running low, and he just failed grade 12. Predictably, his dad didn't care. Sam was getting more rebellious than ever and Dean couldn't take it anymore. He needed to get away, let loose, have some fun. They were in some place that wasn't quite a town, wasn't quite a city. There was a selection of bars to choose from, Dean decided to go to one that wasn't such a redneck dump as the ones he usually went to. The kind of place where he'd find a girl who actually needed to let loose rather than a girl who really needed to tone it the fuck down. Maybe he'd find a girl looking to piss off her parents. Those were always fun. What he found was a beautiful young lady with a bit of a wild streak. "Lydia," she introduced herself as. Blonde, gorgeous hair, she wasn't interested in settling down. Lydia had a mom who wasn't too keen on the guys, so they went back to Dean's motel room. She pushed him around in all the right ways, took the lead, and held his hand as they flew off to bliss together. It was desperately intimate yet somehow didn't cross the bounds of a one night stand. In other words, she rocked his world in a way that few of his one night stands managed to. They exchanged numbers and Dean never talked to her again.
. . .
"Dean! Oh...um..hi," Lydia said awkwardly. He was surprised she remembered his name. Hell, Dean was surprised he remember her name. There was just something about Lydia that nagged at his brain. He didn't know what it was, but he liked it. She was a hell of a woman. Dean wondered if he could manage to swing one more night of fun with her. Probably not, given the way she was looking at him.
"Wow, you look like you've seen a ghost," Dean laughed, sitting down across from her. "Didn't know I'd gotten that old." Lydia smiled and looked at the table. "Uh, no. It's not that. I just didn't expect to see you again."
"Yeah, me neither. Wild, huh?" Dean said. She did not look happy. She didn't seem to find any of this funny. At all. Lydia was looking all around the bar, anywhere but Dean. "Hey, Lydia...are you alright?" She looked scared and more than a little guilty. "You don't got a boyfr-"
"Dean, why are you here?" Lydia interrupted, suspicious and fearful at the same time.
"Just passing through with my brother, why?" Lydia pursed her lips and nodded as though he had confirmed something she was thinking. Her eyes said, 'I don't believe you,' but she let it go.
"I'm sorry, but I can't stay," Lydia said, standing up and practically running out of the bar.
"What the hell," Dean said to himself. He didn't feel too much like getting laid anymore.
"Jeez, that fast Dean? Poor girl," Sam said with a laugh when Dean walked into the motel room.
"Bitch," Dean said absentmindedly.
"What's up?" Sam asked, frowning.
"Nothing. I just talked to a girl I...knew a while ago," Dean said hesitantly, sitting down and puzzling over her mysterious behaviour.
"Oh," Sam said. Dean got up and walked over to the fridge, glaring at the meagre contents. "Knew like Cassie or knew like Lisa?"
"Huh? Oh...Lisa, I guess," Dean said.
"So, how come you're not over wherever she lives?"
"She was acting weird and ran out. What is this the freaking Spanish Inquisition?" Dean said, plopping down on the bed and taking off his shoes. "Find out anything about the vics?"
"Yeah. They were all slimeballs," Sam said. Dean took off his tie and suit jacket. "One failed to pay child support on three kids, another beat his wife, and the last guy did time for attempted rape."
"What do you think? Witches, vengeful spirit maybe?" Dean asked, bored. He was bored with all of this. Everything seemed so pointless.
"I'm thinking witches for now. This symbol could be something to do with a spell," Sam said. "I found a professor we can go see tomorrow. If that's a no go, we could call Maggie and Don. See if they know anything."
"'Kay," Dean yawned. "Remember to stock up on some food tomorrow."
. . .
Lydia smiled as a young girl crawled onto her bed in the middle of the night. "Mommy, I can't sleep. Can you tell me a story?" she asked.
"Sure, Emma. What do you want to hear about?"
"Tell me the one about daddy," the girl said. Lydia tensed. Emma was getting so big, soon she'd have to go train with the tribe for her trials. Lydia still hadn't figured out a way to deal with Emma's final test, the one that would make her a woman and a full member of the tribe.
"Okay. Once upon a time, there was a young warrior. Her mother was very strict and wanted the warrior to follow the rules of her tribe. She kept the warrior away from the evils of men and the patriarchy, but the warrior was rebellious.
Lydia, seventeen years old, lowered herself out of a second story window. She landed on her feet, crouched, one hand on the ground for balance. Lydia listened for any sounds within the house before taking off at a silent run. She met up with a group of four people, two girls and two boys. One couple was kissing in the backseat of the car. They listened to music and drove around the town, going to places Lydia had never seen before.
"She had friends outside the tribe, listened to music, watched television -"
"Mommy, what's television?" Emma asked. Lydia sighed.
"A horrible, absolutely terrible thing. It plays videos of people acting out stories, but the women who are in the videos are unrealistic and usually only there for the pleasure of men." Emma looked confused, so Lydia hurried on with the story. "The young warrior also did that which was most forbidden – she sympathized with men. One night, the warrior, without her mother knowing, went out to a restaurant. There, she met a man."
"Daddy," Emma said.
"Yes, that's right," Lydia nodded. "Unlike most men, this one was kind and smart and funny. He could actually somewhat carry on a conversation. His car was almost as attractive as he was. The young warrior spent the night with him and you were created. A few months later, the warrior told her mother what had happened. Her mother was most displeased.
"Pregnant? Pregnant?" Lydia's mother shrieked. "Do you have any idea what this means? What your daughter will have to do?" Lydia averted her eyes from her mother, tears starting to stream down her face. "We pick who we pick for a reason, Lydia. Why would you do this?"
"He was very sweet," Lydia said.
"He was a man! All he wanted was sex and you gave that to him!"
"I liked it," Lydia whispered. Her mother smacked her hard across the face.
"But the warrior prayed to Harmonia for everything to work out well."
The smoke from the incense danced before Lydia's tear stained face. "Goddess. I know I've made a grave mistake. Please forgive me. I don't know what to do..."
"And she granted it, right mommy?"
"Yes, sweetie." Lydia ran her fingers through Emma's hair. Emma's eyes were barely open and her mouth stretched with a wide yawn. "I think that's enough for tonight," Lydia said, kissing Emma's forehead.
. . .
"Amazons?" Dean said. Sam shrugged. They had just talked to the professor.
"I guess so," Sam replied.
"No, dude, seriously. Amazons?"
"Yeah, Dean. Amazons. After everything we've seen, does that really surprise you?" Sam got into the drivers seat of the car. "Have you seen your, uh, friend lately?"
"No, why?"
"Just wondering. I mean, it sounded like she was having a rough time or something," Sam trailed off. Dean sighed.
"I don't know man. She was just being really weird. At first I thought she was waiting for a boyfriend or something, but she didn't seem to be the type to settle down," Dean replied.
"She didn't?" Sam asked. Dean didn't like the look on Sam's face. "Dean, what exactly was she doing?"
"No. Sam, no," Dean said after a pause. "Don't go there."
"Dean, I'm just saying -"
"Well, don't," Dean interrupted firmly.
Dean walked up to the house. It was a cute little thing, very appropriate for a woman of her age. He knocked on the door, waiting anxiously for Lydia to answer. Dean spent the day worrying about her, so when Lydia answered the door perfectly fine, if a little surprised, Dean was probably happier than he should have been. "Dean. What are you doing here?" Lydia asked. Again, she didn't seem too pleased to see him, but she moved to let him in.
"After last night I was a bit worried about you," Dean answered honestly, looking around as he followed her further into the house. There were a couple pictures around the house of Lydia and some other girls, but Dean didn't get a clear view of who they were. Most of them were of the same young girl, probably in her early to mid-teens.
"How do you know where I live?" Lydia asked in a business-like tone.
"I called in a favour," Dean replied. "Do you ever loosen up?" She stared at him, stoic. All of a sudden, she launched herself on him, grabbing his neck with both of her hands and kissing him. While unexpected, it was certainly not unappreciated. She practically ripped off his jacket and opened his shirt, pulling it halfway down his shoulders. Then she pushed him hard through double doors and into the bedroom. Dean smiled. He kicked off his shoes, Lydia kicked off hers. Pretty soon they were completely undressed and Dean was thrown onto the bed. He'd forgotten how strong Lydia was. And how fucking awesome she was at this.
Dean sighed, sated. So that's why he remembered her name. He turned his head to the blonde woman laying next to him and smiled. She turned her head and asked, "Why haven't you left yet?" Dean frowned.
"What?"
"Why haven't you left yet?" Lydia repeated. "You got what you came here for, so leave me alone."
"What? No – oh my God," Dean said, putting his hand on his forehead. "That's not – why would you – oh God, did you just -"
"Dean, it's okay. You're a man, you can't help but objectify women." Dean jumped out of the bed and started shoving his pants on.
"You know, I came here because I was worried about you. But you know, fuck you too." Dean grabbed the rest of his clothes and ran out the door.
"What's wrong?" Sam asked Dean when he stomped into the motel room.
"Nothing," Dean snarled.
"Dean, can we not start doing this again?"
"I went to see Lydia," Dean said after a long pause.
"And?" Sam prompted.
"And we had sex."
"Okay," Sam said. "I'm sorry, I'm failing to see why you're so angry."
"She asked me why I was still there and said I was 'objectifying' her," Dean snorted. "She practically attacked me, but I'm objectifying her."
"Dean...was Lydia strong?"
"Yeah, why?" Dean asked. "Oh, don't bitchface at me. She's not -"
"I'm just saying. She's strong, she's a woman, she doesn't seem to like guys all that much, and she just happens to be in the area while the Amazons are. You gotta admit, it's a little suspicious."
"No, Sam -"
"Dean, just tell me. Did you use protection?"
"Oh my – yes!" Dean exclaimed. "How stupid do you think I am?"
"Okay, good." Sam paled. "How about the first time?"
"What?"
"The first time you had sex with Lydia, did you use a condom?"
"I don't – Sam come on, that was a long time ago," Dean said, running a hand nervously across the back of his neck.
"Dean," Sam said, giving the bitchface to end all bitchfaces.
"No, alright. No, I didn't."
"Dean!" Sam yelled.
"Yeah, I get it, stupid mistake. I was young, okay?"
"Dean, you don't get it. Amazons are extremely fertile. Like, one sperm gets near their -"
"Okay, okay!" Dean said. "But we don't know Lydia's an Amazon."
"Dean, come on. What does your gut say?"
"Dammit," Dean said.
"So, maybe you're, you're a -"
"Don't say it!" Dean said lowly.
"Okay, if you got a -"
"I said don't say it," Dean said firmly.
"Fine, I won't," Sam said. "But Dean, if it's true. If it happened -"
"It's been sixteen years Sam. If they kill their mates, don't you think I'd be hands and feetless by now?"
"Sixteen years – so, you could have a six-"
"Shut up, Sam."
"Sorry," Sam said apologetically.
"Something's not right about this Sam."
"Yeah, like you just fucked a monster."
"No, I mean something doesn't fit with Lydia and the Amazon thing," Dean said.
"What? Why?"
"She asked me to use a condom the first time, I just didn't have one," Dean replied. "And this time she put one on me."
"Okay, Dean. Too much information," Sam said, face scrunched up in disgust.
"But if the Amazons only have sex with guys for reproduction, why would Lydia want to use protection?"
"I don't know Dean, but everything else fits," Sam replied exasperated.
"Sam."
"What?"
"Those papers just moved," Dean said, pointing at a small stack of papers Sam had compiled on the bed. Sam got the EMF out, moved it around, and quickly pointed out the power lines and the open window. "Did you feel a breeze?"
"Doesn't matter Dean, the readings are useless."
"Hey. Maybe, uh..." Dean said, shaking the flask.
"We burned him, Dean."
"So what?" Dean asked.
"So what are you suggesting?"
"I don't know, what are you?" Dean countered.
"Concentrate on something else."
"Why?" Dean asked.
"Because it's not Bobby!" Sam yelled.
"Could be."
"No it couldn't be!"
"Why not?"
"Because we want it to be," Sam said finally. Silence followed by bickering over the Greek paper. "I'm going Dean. You stay here, keep the door locked, don't go anywhere. I mean it."
"Fine," Dean replied.
"Your final trial is upon you," the Queen said to the seven teenage girls standing in the room. "Soon you will become women and join the ranks of your mothers. But first, you must learn to control your pain, to not let it affect you. Do not show weakness, your enemies will use it against you." The Queen branded each one of the girls. Emma seemed to have the hardest time, so the Queen offered words of inspiration.
Dean was bored, so he decided to chat a bit with Jody Mills. She was actually kinda cool to talk to. When a knock sounded at the door, Dean slowly closed the screen of the laptop and readied his gun. He walked to the door, the person still knocking. Stupid Sam and his stupid way of making Dean's imagination overreact. Chances were Lydia wasn't an Amazon and they were just jumping to conclusions. It's not like they had any real proof or anything. Dean looked through the peephole and saw a teenage girl with blonde hair. She was the girl in Lydia's pictures and damn did she look familiar. She looked like, well, she looked like Lydia. But not just Lydia, she also looked like – 'oh shit' was the only thing that ran through Dean's mind as he slowly unlocked the door. He opened it and came face to face with a distressed teenager who had a pink suitcase.
"Hi," she said. Dean studied her. There were more similarities than he thought. "You don't know me, but my name is Emma." Pretty name. Her voice sounded like – no. He was not thinking about that. "I need help. I think I'm in trouble and you're the only person I can trust."
"Why?" Dean asked. He had a horrible feeling he knew the answer.
"Because you're my father." Emma replied. Dammit.
"How did you find me?" Dean asked.
"They've been watching you. Ever since mom got pregnant."
"Well, if you were such a prisoner, would you mind telling me how you escaped?"
"I waited until lights out. The women who watch over us change shifts a little after ten," Emma explained.
"Uh huh. And you left because?" Emma inhaled.
"They stick you in there. And you trust them. That's all you know. And you don't question what they want you to do. Terrible things. That's why I had to leave. They tortured me," Emma said tearfully, holding up her arm so Dean could see the brand on her wrist. "They told me I had to endure pain so I could be strong like them. But I don't want to be like them," Emma shook her head, tears starting to overflow.
"Okay," Dean said. "Come on in." Emma walked into the motel room, dragging her suitcase behind her. "Have a seat. Okay." Dean cleared his throat. "Let's assume that you're not...like them. Yet. What do you want me to do?"
"Get me away from here," Emma said without hesitation. "You're a good man. My mother told me that." Dean laughed.
"I seriously doubt she said that. And if you knew me, you'd seriously doubt it's true."
"They told me you're a hunter. So maybe you'll understand about me. Maybe you can protect me. Just long enough so I can get away. Then I'll leave you alone," Emma promised. "I know you don't want me."
"Alright. Let's not, go there, okay. This isn't a matter of -" Dean gestured between the two of them. He was at a loss for words. He laughed. "You get this isn't a normal situation, right?"
"How would I know? I was isolated from 'normal.' My mother threw me into that place, and my father...well. You get this is my last chance to have anything normal ever, right?"
"You look exhausted," Dean said.
"And starving. It's been a tough sweet sixteen," Emma said. "So you believe me?" Dean nodded slightly. "You'll help me?"
"If you really want help," Dean replied. "What happens when they find out you're missing?"
"They may have already found out," Emma said. "They'll hunt me down. Look, I know this is going to be hard, but if I'm going to get out, I have to do it now."
"We got cheese and a leftover burrito," Dean told Emma. "Dammit I told Sam to go get groceries," he muttered.
"Doesn't make a difference," Emma said, getting out her knife. Dean pulled out his gun and turned around.
"You're asking if I believed you."
"I was told you'd be a challenge," Emma said.
"I figured you'd chat me up, try and catch me off guard. Almost worked, I was expecting your mother."
"It's not her place," Emma said. "I have to kill you."
"Is that what they told you?"
"It's what I am," she replied.
"Well then I should just kill you right now."
"Sure. But you could have done that thirty seconds ago."
"Same goes for you," Dean said.
"It's weirdly hard isn't it? At least, it is for me."
"Knock it off," Dean said.
"How could it not be? You're my father."
"Hey! We're not gonna do that," Dean said.
"But it's true," Emma replied. "I wouldn't be here if it weren't for you. So now someone has to kill someone."
"You haven't killed anybody yet, Emma. Walk away," Dean pleaded.
"I can't. I don't have a choice."
Sam burst into the room, gun pointed at Emma as she whipped around. Emma turned back to Dean with a sad, desperate look on her face and Dean couldn't help it. He lowered the gun. He looked at Sam and Sam looked at him, rearranged his face the way he does when he's about to kill something. And Dean couldn't help it. He shouted, "No!" and tackled Emma just as the gun fired. He heard Sam's shout of 'dammit Dean!' but it was through a fog. Like Sam didn't even matter. All that mattered was looking for the pool of blood that had to be spreading from the teenager's chest. His blood. She was going to die because he just couldn't have worn a goddamn condom. Emma was pale and shaking, but she blinked up at him and spoke. Hearing her voice was like being pulled from a deep ocean where he was inhaling water.
"You saved me," Emma whispered, stunned. "Why – why did you save me?" Dean shook his head and forced back tears.
"You're my daughter," Dean whispered back. It was the first thing that came to his head, the only explanation available for his actions. It wasn't even a good one, but it was true. She was his daughter and she wouldn't be here if it wasn't for him. And it was simultaneously the most beautiful and the most heartbreaking experience he's ever had.
"But you're...you're a man," Emma said, grabbing Dean's hand and allowing him to pull her up. "Men don't – men don't do that -"
"Maybe you shouldn't believe everything those Amazon's tell you," Dean said. "Something tells me they're a bit biased."
"Are you gonna kill me?" Emma asked Sam, turning to face her uncle.
"No, he's not," Dean said firmly, keeping eye contact with Sam.
"Dean! -"
"He's going to go get some food like I asked him to last night," Dean finished. Sam threw his hands in the air and stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him.
"So, how much of what you told me earlier was true?" Dean asked. Emma was, once again, sitting on the bed by her suitcase. Dean was standing up with his arms crossed. In another life, he could have been a father scolding his daughter for sneaking out to see her boyfriend.
"I did trust them," Emma said, eyes downcast. "And I didn't question what they wanted me to do."
"Obviously," Dean said. "That it?" Emma looked up at him.
"My mom did say you were a good man." Dean rolled his eyes. "And...I do know you don't want me." Dean rubbed his face and sighed, leaning against the table.
"Hey, hey. I said we weren't doing that, okay?" Dean said. Emma nodded, looking at her hands again. "Did they torture you?" Dean asked. There was a long pause before Emma let out a shaky breath and nodded.
"It was a part of one of our trials," she said.
"Son of a bitch," Dean breathed. "Are they going to hunt you down because you didn't kill me?"
"No," Emma said, looking up at Dean. "But I'll be exiled. I'll never get to see any of them ever again -"
"Good."
"They're my family!" Emma protested. "I have aunts and a grandmother and – and my mother is one of them," Emma finished.
"Why do you guys even do that stupid initiation crap anyway?"
"It's a way of giving women justice," Emma said. "We procreate with men who have wronged women in terrible ways."
"And then the daughters kill them," Dean finished.
"Yeah," Emma nodded.
"But what about me?" Dean asked. "I've never done anything that bad to a woman, right?"
"No," Emma admitted. "You were my mother's...act of rebellion. She didn't think she'd get pregnant."
"So why do you still have to kill me?"
"It's tradition, something we do for our goddess." Emma said.
"Can't they make an exception? You know, with the circumstances and all?"
"My mother tried but..." Emma said, trailing off and shaking her head sadly.
"Okay, well, we'll figure something out," Dean said. "Sam should be back with some food soon."
"Who is he?" Dean stared guiltily at Emma.
"He's my brother," Dean replied.
"Great," Emma said. "So my uncle wants me dead."
"Some family we got here," Dean laughed bitterly.
Dean heard police sirens in the distance. It was about time, Sam had fired the shot nearly an hour ago. "That's our cue," Dean said, getting up and gathering his and Sam's things.
"Cue for what?"
"We're leaving," Dean said. "Don't want to be here when the cops show. Avoid some uncomfortable questions." Emma nodded and grabbed her suitcase, following Dean out the door. Dean's head darted around the parking lot. "Sam took the car. We're going to have to walk."
"Where are we going?" Emma asked, easily keeping up with her father's brisk pace.
"No idea," Dean said. He took out his cellphone and sent a text to Sam, telling him not to go back to the motel room.
"We could go to mom's," Emma said. Dean halted abruptly.
"You're serious? You want to go to your mother's?" Dean asked. Emma raised an eyebrow and nodded. "After she sent you to people who tortured you?"
"It really wasn't that bad," Emma said hastily. "They just did it for about a week before one of our trials."
"Uh huh. And what trial was that?"
"Getting through a torture session without crying out," Emma explained. "They give you this once you pass," she said, holding up her branded wrist.
"So, they reward you for being tortured by burning a symbol into your skin?" Dean said. Emma nodded. She clearly did not see the problem with this. Dean sighed. "This family man, this family." He thought for a moment, trying to figure out places (besides Lydia's house) that were in walking distance. "Alright, your mom's it is."
Dean heard a strange growling noise coming from behind him. "What the hell?" he said, turning around. Emma, who started having trouble keeping up with Dean fifteen minutes in, stood sheepishly holding her stomach. "Right," Dean said, pointing towards her. "Hungry."
"And exhausted," Emma said.
"Yeah," Dean said, running a hand through his hair. "Oh, boy."
"I can make it to my mom's," Emma assured him.
"When was the last time you ate?" Dean asked as they continued walking.
"What time is it now?"
"12:30," Dean replied with a quick look at his cellphone.
"A day ago," Emma said quietly. "I was supposed to fast, but I snuck some cookies from the cafeteria when everybody was asleep."
"Why did you have to fast?"
"We always fast three days leading up to our trials. There's a feast after we pass," Emma said. "It's tradition."
"How the fuck do they expect you to kill somebody after fasting for three-" Dean said, ending in a sigh. "You know what, never mind." Dean stopped talking and rummaged through his duffel bag. "Here," Dean said, offering Emma a slightly squished chocolate bar. "It's not much, but it's sure as hell better than nothing."
They arrived at Lydia's house about ten minutes later. Dean knocked on her door and waited. He had more than a few choice words for her. After what seemed like forever, Lydia opened the door. She pursed her lips together and shook her head as though she had been expecting this. "Emma didn't kill you," Lydia said.
"Wasn't for lack of trying," Dean replied. Lydia looked to where Emma seemed to be trying to disappear behind her larger father and visibly relaxed upon seeing her daughter. Lydia sighed.
"Get in," she said, guiding Dean and Emma into the home with a hand on their shoulder.
"Thanks for calling," Dean said sarcastically. "I was really happy you let me know I had a daughter."
"You're a man," Lydia said harshly. "Men can barely be trusted to walk straight, let alone help raise a child. It was easier this way."
"Easier?" Dean said incredulously. "Oh yeah, sounds real easy. Just send your daughter away to be tortured, right? Have her brainwashed into wanting to kill her father? That sounds great, very wholesome."
"I wouldn't expect you to understand."
"I don't want to," Dean retorted.
"Mom!" Emma said tearfully. Lydia softened and looked sadly at her daughter. "What am I gonna do?" Lydia gave Emma a gentle hug.
"You're going to get your stuff, whatever you think you'll need or want, and you're going to get away from here while I try and work something out with the council," Lydia said. Emma nodded, holding back tears. "Courage, Emma, remember. Courage." Emma got herself together and ran upstairs. Lydia and Dean sat in awkward silence for a few minutes.
"Hey, you got any food you can whip up real quick?" Dean asked.
"Why?"
"Emma hasn't eaten in a while," Dean said. "Probably be a good idea to fill her up before we head out."
"We?" Lydia asked. "You sound like you're taking her with you."
"That's because I am," Dean said. Lydia's eyebrows reached new heights on her forehead.
"You want to take her with you?"
"Well, I don't see too many other choices," Dean said. "She's sixteen, where's she gonna go? She wouldn't last ten minutes out there alone and you know it." Lydia sat down, putting her face in her hands.
"Alright," she agreed.
While they were waiting, Dean sent another text to Sam telling him where they were and asking him to pick them up. Dean hoped Sam would put his emotions aside for a couple hours so they could all get the hell out of this town. "So, you going to make any food or what?" Dean asked Lydia. She was sitting, stoic, since she agreed to Dean taking Emma. Lydia shook her head.
"No, I don't have anything I can make quickly," she replied. "You guys need to leave as soon as Emma comes down. The tribe will be expecting Emma soon. If they catch her, she'll be locked up and given a trial before I can talk to them. She'll be convicted and exiled. That's what I want to stop." Dean nodded and jumped when his phone started buzzing. Sam. Dean opened up his phone and looked at the text. "Okay. 5 minutes," was what it said. Dean sighed in relief. At least he could always count on Sam. Dean just hoped Sam had cooled down some.
"How much stuff has she got up there?" Dean asked.
"Not much," Lydia said. "Some weapons, a couple knickknacks, that sort of thing. I moved some things around, she's probably having a hard time finding them."
"Speak of the devil," Dean said as Emma came running down the stairs. Dean looked outside the door and saw the Impaloster sitting on the street. "Got everything?" Dean asked. Emma nodded.
"Am I going with you?" Emma asked her father, a bit of hope in her tone.
"Yup," Dean said. "Sam's waiting, so we better..." he trailed off pointing towards the door. Emma nodded, told her mother goodbye, and walked followed Dean outside. Catching a glimpse of Sam's face, it became glaringly obvious that no, he hadn't calmed down. Dean took a deep breath and steeled himself for the doozy of a fight that was sure to come.