Don't Hang Up
The Impala is fifteen miles outside of Dayton, Ohio, heading north, when a ringtone cuts through the power chords of Iron Maiden.
For a moment, the brothers look at each other. It isn't Dean's ringtone (This week it's Stairway to Heaven) or Sam's (The Imperial March from Star Wars), which means it's their dad's phone. Since John Winchester has been dead for two and a half years now, he doesn't get a lot of calls. The last one involved them with Bela Talbot, which renders it suspect.
"Better get that, Sam," Dean says, gripping the wheel.
Reluctantly, Sam reaches into the glove box for the phone. He pulls it lose from the charger, flips it open. Before he can say "Hello", a female voice starts talking fast.
"John, it's Marnie---don't hang up! I know I said I wouldn't call, but this is an emergency," There's a little gasp, the woman sounds like she's panting for breath. "I'm in the hospital, and I'm afraid I'm not coming back out. You have to help!" A wracking series of coughs burst through the earpiece.
"Hello?" Sam says, when the choking levels down a painful wheezing.
"John?" the sick woman rasps.
"No, this is his son, Sam." She moans, and he says, "but we can help. Where are you?"
"Methodist Hospital, Gary, Indiana." She takes several deep breaths. "Room 206."
"How far to Gary, Indiana?" Sam asks, covering the mouthpiece.
Dean considers it "Three, four hours maybe."
"We'll be there by this evening," Sam promises. She thanks him, and the call disconnects.
"Why are we going to Gary?"
Sam explains the call. "It could be some kind of curse," he guesses. "She sounded terrible."
"How do we know it isn't a trap?"
"In a hospital?"
"Demons are sneaky," Dean grumbles. "And I hate hospitals."
When they get to Methodist Hospital (three hours, forty-nine minutes later), they approach Room 206 with caution. If there weren't so many signs warning about the potential harm of electronic devices, Dean would have his EMF in hand.
The woman in the hospital bed is on oxygen. Before her illness, she was probably heavy; she's lost enough weight that she looks like a shar-pei from all the loose skin. Her hair is ash blonde, with an inch and a half of greying roots showing. Her eyes are closed, and each breath she takes seems a little more ragged than the last.
There's movement from the corner, but if it's a demon, he's possessed a very young vessel. The boy sitting there with a book probably isn't more than seven or eight, with dark hair and a new tooth coming in. He puts down the book at their entrance. "Aunt Marnie!" he says loudly, looking at them.
The patient stirs, blinks awake. "John?" she says grogily.
"I'm Sam, this is my brother, Dean. Dad can't be here, but we'll do everything we can to help."
Her smile is also missing a front tooth---in her case, she looks older---but the look of relief takes years off her age. "My little sister, Maeda... Seth's mom," She nods at the kid in the corner. "...was hit by a car when Seth was three...I've had him ever since. He's a good kid." The good kid looks worried. He's watching his aunt with concern; clearly he knows she's pretty sick. "You have your key?" she asks him.
The boy holds up the lanyard dangling against the front of his dark green polo shirt. "Yes, ma'am."
"Good, you can get what you need from the house. These young men will take you to your daddy. Tell John I'm sorry," says the patient, shaking her head, "but there's no other family on our side."
Sam is the first to recover. "Why don't you take Seth to get his stuff?" he suggests to Dean, who is still staring at the kid. "I want to talk to Marnie for a little while, make sure we know everything we need to know."
"Yeah, sure," Dean mumbles. "Come on, kid. You had dinner yet? Where can a guy get a good cheeseburger around here?"
Seth follows him out of the room, looking back at his aunt, who gives a little nod of reassurance.
"I only met John once," Marnie says, closing her eyes again. "After Mae died, four years ago. She never would talk much about who Seth's daddy was, I guess she didn't keep in touch because she thought he might want custody. I could've told her..." A moment of labored breathing passes. "...a man like that, a widower with grown children, wasn't going to put up a fight so he could start all over again...I called him to come to the funeral, and it turned out she hadn't even told him!"
He didn't tell us, either, Sam thinks grimly. He's done the math in his head. If Seth's mother died four years ago, when he was three, then Seth is around seven. Adding nine months, and consulting the calendar in his head, Sam figures that Seth was conceived shortly after his departure for Stanford. The irony isn't lost on him.
What I had planned, as explained to someone who's a couple seasons behind (Here be spoilers)
I only had a vague idea of what I was going to do with it, anyway, tied into season 4. Since Sam and Dean are involved in the demon war against Lilith, and that's not a very safe place for a kid, I was going to have them stash Seth with Pamela (who is blind, and could probably use a little helper). Since being blinded, Pamela has been wearing some funky demon-style contacts...when Seth encounters a little girl with the same eyes, he feels sorry for her---since he doesn't know ANYTHING about his family's lifestyle, he thinks she's blind, too. But it's Lilith. And somehow, he's instrumental in helping the boys defeat her. But I never got that far. Anyway, that's the gist.
This is it. This is as much as I'm going to write on the subject, because I have other projects going on, but I hope you enjoy it.