Lucy Reyes ran desperately. Her legs were on fire and her chest felt like it would explode at any moment but she had to keep on running. It was 9:00pm in Brandon, Kansas she desperately searched for a sign of help. For anybody to turn to but the streets remained without refuge. She willed her legs to keep moving and they did the most that they could. They began to buckle under her as she turned around onto second street. Within sight of her father's hardwear shop Lucy fell, HARD. As she rolled into a tumbling ball of spindly teenage arms and legs the road surface ripped through her t-shirt tearing scratches into her arms and his face before she came to a stop. Landing in a water filled pot hole fresh from the day's rain storm.
She couldn't have been still for more than a second when she felt the presence she was fleeing grow closer behind her. Wind and blood pumping impossibly hard in her ears Lucy forced her palms down into the harsh road surface and pushed upwards. Her legs were numb and darkness gathered around the edges of her vision but she pushed forward. She had no other choice. At the very edge of consciousness she finally reached her father's shop and fell, smashing through the door. Her gravel filled cuts and scratches now joined by deep gashes as plate glass sliced into her shoulders and her face. Blood began to pool beneath her on the cheap linoleum floor. She felt it's sharp metalic tang fill his nose and mouth as she finally passed out.
Lucy's slight teenage body lay still. In the shop door way she was illuminated only faintly by street lights as a shadow fell over her. Alone and finally helpless her and bleeding body suddenly, harshly flipped over and raised into the air. Still unconscious she was swallowed into the darkness that had followed her.
THE NEXT MORNING.
Dawn crept in through the windows of the Sunny Daze Motel just outside of Brandon, Kansas. Sam slipped back into consciousness feeling relaxed for the first time in a long time. Blinking fully awake she let out a lazy yawn. The darkness that surrounded their lives, Jessica's death, the search for their father was still there but the quiet couple days they had taken after the last job were actually having their intended effect. Dean was healing up and she was beginning to feel less stupid about missing the ghost of Billy Munroe. It was the first time they had spent by themselves with no job since they were kids. Let alone since she'd come out as trans. Dean's initial reaction had been positive albeit with questions and the occasional moment of tension. She was giving him the space he needed to really understand that he had a sister, not a brother.
Sam stood, stretching and glanced to the room's other bed, it lay empty. Dean had more than likely spent the night with some girl he'd picked up at the local bar. This meant that he was likely to be in a good mood, she could use that. Today she was planning to raise something big. Padding across cold, moth eaten carpet she faced the long thin mirror that hung from rusty fixtures at one end of their room. She pulled a face and tucked her hair behind her ears. It was long enough to do that now. She wasn't sure if it looked neater that way or if the lack of hair falling in her face just showed off the effects of testosterone on her skull. Broad curls flicked up awkwardly just below her ears inexplicably framing the image. It would be more practical to keep it short for hunting and in a world without the puberty that she went though in her teens, she could maybe see herself going for a shorter look. That wasn't what happened though. Sue her she thought, if she leant on longer hair as a crutch to lessen dysphoria. Dismissing the problem for now she gladly turned away from the mirror. It felt like more than past time to start HRT. Whatever effect estrogen would have on her admittedly large frame she'd welcome it. No matter the shape of her body she WAS female but the changes that came with HRT were needed. They were right for her. Dean, as the more enthusiastic forger in the family could be influential in accessing fake prescriptions. She new what to take, she knew the safe dosages and she could probably just self medicate through internet pharmacies but this was one time that the family business might actually help her out. Even if Dean would endlessly make her pay for admitting it !
When she found him, Dean was exactly where she expected him to be. He was eating breakfast in the town diner. The Brandon Cafe bore no discernable difference to any other place that fed them. It was small, friendly in it's own way and served a typical menu that was just the wrong side of healthy for her tastes. She ordered orange juice at the counter then sat and grimaced at the sight of Dean eagerly downing fork full after fork full of pie. She honestly didn't think she'd ever get used to road food again.
"You'll have a coronary!" She warned. Dean looked up raising his fork in defiant greeting.
"Nah. I'm too pretty for that." He announced with confidence. "Besides you eat enough rabbit food for the both of us!"
"So. Good night ?" Sam asked. Deans demeanour seemed to confirm it. He grinned and finally put his fork down.
"Hoo boy Sammy! I like this town!" He replied and with a smug expression he added, "let's just say the towns folk were very friendly last night!"
As Sam braced herself for a full report on the girl Dean had picked up, a figure slid into the booth next to her. She pulled back in surprise and assessed the clean cut local who seemed to be joining their breakfast. He appeared to be in his forties with greying hair that receded at the temples. He wore khaki slacks and a pale blue button down shirt. Before either Winchester had a chance to speak the stranger looked Dean straight in the eye maintaining a broad smile and beat them to it.
"Glad to hear it!" He chirped, reaching a hand out across the table. "I'm Reverend Carl Higgins. You boy's have been in town for a couple days! We're always glad to lend hospitality to passers by."
Sam felt a familiar twist in her gut at the man's greeting even if he knew no better. A local clergy man was the last thing she needed the attention of right now. Especially with transition finally starting to happen, especially with the conversation about HRT she had planned. She reached out her own hand hoping to remain polite but impersonal.
"Sam Winchester and this is my brother Dean." Dean just sat back in his seat, a wary eyebrow raised. Sam watched as his eyes flitted back and forth between her and the Reverend. She could swear he was getting ready to be overprotective. It was something she'd seen allot more of lately. She could take care of herself but trans ally Dean was actually kind of heart warming.
"Nice to meet you." The Reverend responded and turned right back to Dean before speaking again. "You know Sam here's right." He pointed toward Deans plate. "Healthiness IS next to Godliness!" Dean refocused his gaze in response.
"I thought that was Cleanliness?" He continued to stare the Reverend down .
"That too." The Reverend replied. "So, you planning on sticking around long?" He was still smiling but his eyes had turned hard. "Like you said this is a nice town and folks here just want to make people feel welcome. They can be a little too welcoming for their own good sometimes. If you know what I mean?"
Dean and the Reverend were now locked in a staring match and Sam could feel attention from all around the cafe turning in their direction. After a couple of quiet, anonymous days in town mood toward them had suddenly and dramatically changed. The reaction seemed disproportionate to Dean's usual antics at a bar. Her brother's pool hustling and fairly cheesy flirtation aside she couldn't help but wonder how the town's reaction might differ if they knew about her.
"Well, we'll be moving on soon." She offered, trying to look and sound as corn fed as her family's Kansas heritage would allow. Trans or not it had always been a difficult thing to pull off even before spending four years at Stanford. "We're glad for the welcome but you know how it is. We've got places to go and things to do."
The Reverend broke his gaze away from Dean and as quickly as it had darkened his demeanour brightened. He turned to face at Sam . Standing he shook her by the hand for a second time. A jovial warmth returning to his voice.
"Well, good luck to you both and drive safe okay ?" He began to leave then paused and turned around adding. "Oh, Dean? Your brother's right about the food. Have an O. J on me." He placed a dollar bill on the table and patted Dean on the shoulder then finally left.
"Well that was weird!" Dean declared once they were safely out of the cafe. Sam could only nod in agreement. It had been strange but it was probably more amazing that it didn't happen more often. Especially since they spent most of their time as strangers poking around close knit small towns.
"I'll say." She never the less replied. "Hey, he was probably just somebody's Dad or somebody's brother trying to be scary." She added lightening the mood. "We'll be gone soon ...but Dean." She turned around to her brother placing a hand on his shoulder. "Thanks for the whole over protective bit. It's annoying and I can take care of myself... but thanks."
Dean paused before replying. Sam half expected him to repeat his demand to suffer no "Chick flick" moments. Instead he just maintained a perfectly serious expression and replied.
"Don't sweat it Sammy. I'm not gonna let some bible thumping busy body walk all over us. Besides he liked you !"
Sam didn't acknowledge the weirdness of that fact. Instead she just smiled and buried the thought, simply turning to Dean with a smirk.
"He was right about the orange juice and the pie though!"
Dean threw his head back with a dismissive shake.
" I'm sure that guy would love to hear a lecture on feminist theory or why he should vote for Nader or something too!"
Sam laughed at the memory of the lecture on sex and gender and feminism that she'd finally delivered to a board Dean a few days earlier. Her mind was beginning to wander back to the topic of HRT and forged prescriptions when, as they rounded a corner she noticed a crowd of people gathered around a store front.
The store's glass door had been replaced with wooden board. A crack crept out from under it almost cutting the store front in half. All it looked like was a smashed door but what seemed odd was the number of people gathered and their demeanour. They were solemnly standing in a semi circle facing what was apparently "Reyes Hardwear." They seemed entirely too somber for such a non event. As Sam and Dean drew closer it became clear that they were singing a hymn. "Amazing Grace" rang out in earnest, fervent tones.
As they passed by Dean turned to Sam with a raised eyebrow and spoke, quietly enough that only she could hear.
"Jump back ! What is this Footloose? They're praying over a broken door now?"
Sam could understand her brother's confusion.
"Small towns huh! I mean, clearly they're just really devout here."
Dean shook his head in annoyance.
"That's fine but between this and breakfast with Billy Graham. I'm kinda ready to leave town"
Dean was probably right. Religion was simply part of the wall paper in a lot of the places they ended up. Normally her father's vague kind of Christianity had been ok with her. Or at least it was something she'd learned to live with. She was however fairly sure that a delay in the next transition related conversation might be a good idea. It would have to wait until the text town.
"Fine by me." She confirmed, taking a final wary look over her shoulder at the gathered crowd. What she saw was even less welcome than a crowd of over zealous evangelical Christians. The dozen or so townspeople had finished singing. They were deep in prayer, heads bowed, a solemn recitation escaping their lips. Sam caught a further view of the smashed store front. This time her eyes were drawn to the stoop. In front of the door there was a dark puddle. It was dark enough and red enough to be something very familiar, blood. As the prayer intensified the red stain grew lighter. It grew wetter and fresher very quickly. Within the space of a couple of seconds it was a mirrored puddle that began to boil. The towns people continued their prayer un moved by the sight before them.
Dean paused a few feet ahead of his sister and turned with annoyance written over his face. Before he could call out to her Sam spoke motioning for him to come back.
"Dean look." She pointed to the gathered crowd. The blood was now ferociously boiling with enough intensity that it was evaporating away leaving spotless concrete. As it did, both Winchester's attention was drawn to the glass and the long crack that bisected the hardware store's window. Seemingly in time with the disappearance of blood from concrete the crack closed sealing shut to leave a shining window free from even a scratch. Sam watched her brother drop his head and exclaim to nobody in particular.
"Son of a bitch!"
It seemed that they might be staying after all.