Mycroft hadn't called or even texted me today which I found odd. Usually, he would make sure I was all right, even to the point o being unbearable, especially after coming back from a hunt. But then I assumed perhaps he had to attend an important meeting; he had been highly stressed for the past few months and from what he told me it was a difficult situation. I could see the exhaustion on his face.
I guess I would see him when I arrived then. I hailed a taxi from the airport and directed the cabby to our house. Checking my watch which I had reset while in the air, it read 6:07 pm. Still tired from Eastern Standard Time which would be 1:07 pm, I realized why all I wanted to do was sleep – since I hadn't slept at all last night.
"Mycroft!" I called when I stepped into the foyer, setting my bag down on the highly polished hardwood floor.
"He's not here right now, Ms. Winchester," Eva, the housekeeper informed me as she hurried into the foyer.
"Do you have an idea when he is going to be home?" I asked her, my brow crinkling in confusion. She just shook her head. "Well, I'm going to retire. Please inform Mycroft to my whereabouts when he comes in." She nodded before I ascended the stairs to reach our bedroom. I winced as each step jostled my injuries.
I went into our bedroom and took a shower, watching the water run pink. Getting out, I gingerly wiped the water droplets off my body before falling asleep, between the blue satin sheets. I clutched Mycroft's pillow, inhaling his unique scent.
Six hours later I awoke from my slumber. Looking out at the view out the window, well what I could see from bed, I saw it was dark. Groaning and pulling my cocoon of blankets closer, I yawned. Deciding it was time to see if Mycroft was home or not, I slipped out of the covers wincing from the stretching; it pulled uncomfortably on my wounds.
I slipped on a pair of short, green shorts, a long sleeved cropped black shirt and a pair of sandals. Then I slipped Mycroft's black cashmere dressing gown on as I walked down the stairs. His robe completely engulfed me, trailing on the floor like a train.
I peeked into the study first, as usually, that was where I could find Mycroft. Though I was puzzled, he wasn't there. I happened upon Eva and asked her.
"Mr. Holmes is in the dining room." I thanked her and made my way to the dining room. Walking inside the door I caught the eye of Sherlock who was frowning and lounging in a chair.
"Gave me a lot of advice on how to play the Holmes' boys." I walked inside a few paces to see a woman perched on the table in front of Mycroft. "You know what he calls you? The Iceman." She addressed Mycroft. "And the Virgin." When she turned to address Sherlock she noticed me. "Well look at this."
"Who are you?" I asked her bluntly, before crossing the room and sitting on Mycroft's lap.
"Irene Adler," she supplied, her mouth curving into a wry smile. Mycroft curled his arm around my waist, letting his thumb rub circles on my clothed hip.
"She's the Woman," Sherlock cut into the conversation. I gave him a sardonic smile.
"I know who she is," she looked shocked at my comment. I laughed a little. "Oh come on! You honestly didn't think I wouldn't know? My fiancé has mentioned you several times these past months. And the situation."
"So I did manage to strike a chord with these two," I watched her grin in happiness over that fact.
"No," I replied. She raised an eyebrow.
"No? No what?"
"No, you didn't strike a chord with them!" I snapped, annoyed at her mannerisms already. Mycroft added a little more pressure on my hip and I flinched. He quickly pulled his hand away. I knew Mycroft enough to know that he was going to be inspecting my injuries later. Hide a gunshot wound once and Mycroft gets all paranoid whenever I'm hurt.
"Are you okay?" He whispered into my ear. I nodded. "Later." He breathed before Irene began to speak again.
"Anyway, he didn't even ask for anything." My eyebrows flew up. "Jim Moriarty, love." The pieces began to fit now. "I think he just likes to cause trouble."
Quickly I looked over at Sherlock. He appeared to look as if he were in pain. How I longed to comfort him, but I knew this was something Sherlock himself needed to work out.
"Now that's my kind of man," I threw her a glare as she continued to rub it in. "I had all this stuff but never knew what to do with it." Mycroft dug a pen out of his blazer pocket and reached around me to sign a document that was lying on the table in front of us. "Thank God for the consultant criminal."
"And here you are, the dominatrix that brought a nation to its knees," Mycroft slid me off his lap, standing and then placing me back onto the chair. "Nicely played." He refolded the document and put the pen in his pocket.
"No," Sherlock said. I turned to look at him, interested in what he was saying.
"Sorry?" Irene raised a perfect eyebrow.
"I said no. Very, very close, but no," he stood up from his spot. "The game was too elaborate; you were enjoying yourself too much."
"There's no such thing as too much," I had to disagree with her on that one.
"Enjoying the thrill of the chase is fine. Craving the distraction of the game, I sympathize, but sentiment?" I was lost. When I turned to look at Mycroft, he was just as lost as I was. "Sentiment is a chemical defect found on the losing side."
"Sentiment? What are you talking about?" Irene was faking her confusion. I realized what Sherlock was saying.
"You."
"Dear God. Look at the poor man," she gave Mycroft a pitying glance, but he was focused only on his brother. "You don't actually think I was interested in you? Why? Because you're the great Sherlock Holmes, the clever detective in the funny hat?" Her argument sounded weak to my own ears.
"No," Sherlock said, walking close to her before picking up her hand. "Because I took your pulse." He said softly into her ear. As I was close to them, I could hear everything was being said in front of me. "Elevated. You pupils dilated." He walked away with the phone in hand. "I imagine John Watson thinks love's a mystery to me, but the chemistry is incredibly simple and very destructive."
He turned to look at her. I felt offended by that comment. Hopefully, he didn't think I was the destruction of Mycroft or would be.
"When we first met, you told me that disguise is always a self-portrait. How true of you. The combination to your safe, your measurements, but this, this is far more intimate, this is your heart and you should never let it rule your head." He waved her phone. "You could have chosen any number and walked out with everything. But you just couldn't resist it, could you? I've always assumed that love is a dangerous disadvantage. Thank you for the final proof." Irene put her hand on Sherlock's arm. She had followed him as he began to talk.
"Everything I said, it's not real," she had tears in her eyes. I could tell from her voice. "I was just playing the game."
"I know," Sherlock said gently. "And this is just losing." He entered the last digit into her phone and showed here the screen. "Here you are a brother." Mycroft took the phone. "Hope the contents make up for any inconvenience caused tonight."
"I'm certain they will."
"If you're feeling kind, lock her up. Otherwise, let her go and I doubt she'll survive long." Sherlock was striding towards the door, done with this situation. He caught my eye and saw the smirk I had on my face; he just took his proud woman to her knees.
"Are you expecting me to beg?" Irene asked him, definite tears in her voice now.
"Yes," Sherlock didn't even look at her.
"Please. You're right. I won't even last six months." Sherlock took no pity on this broken woman.
"Sorry about dinner," with that comment he left. Irene fled shortly thereafter, leaving only Mycroft and I. He was staring at this phone.
"Mycroft?" He lifted his head to look at me, before kissing me hard. "Is everything alright?" I was concerned after the amount of emotion he had poured into that kiss.
"Yes, my darling. Everything is quite alright now," Mycroft gave me a rare smile. "I have to go make a phone call. Be back shortly."
After Mycroft left, I exited the room as well. I stopped on several occasions to catch my breath and made my way to the kitchen. When I stepped into the stainless steel room, Eva's eyes widened.
"Ms. Winchester. Please sit," she pulled me to the table where she made me sit. Pulling out her phone she sent off a rapid text to probably Anthea. "How do you feel?"
"Fine. I'm in a little pain. Actually, I came down here to see if you could make some dinner." She nodded, though continued to keep a worried eye on me as she began to prepare steak, potatoes, and asparagus.
"Darling," Mycroft's voice broke through the fog that was settling inside my mind. I started and looked at him. He kneeled beside my chair. "Let us go to bed."
"But I haven't eaten yet!" I cried out, even though my stomach felt nauseous. Eva placed the plate in front of me. I picked, barely able to stomach the rich food.
"Are you done, 'Lia?" Mycroft asked, gently caressing my cheek with his fingers. I nodded, too tired to even talk. "Can you walk?" I tried to focus but my mind was deafening, my heart was racing, and my vision was blurring.
I was lifted out of the chair and taken down the hall and up the stairs. Mycroft gently placed me on the bed before removing my sandals and his dressing gown. He looked at the exposed wounds on my stomach before inhaling sharply.
"John . . . infected looks like . . . no, I do not. . . Haven't spoken. . . Dean or Sam . . . back today." I closed my eyes and fell into the hallucinations of a fever.
I dreamed of my father. My mother. Dean. Sam, Bobby. Azazel. Mycroft. Sherlock. John. All of them were demons. All of them wanted to kill me. I screamed and felt someone hold me down.
"No, no, no, no!" I screamed, seeing Mycroft inhabited by Azazel. He grinned crazily.
"Come on love. You can trust me." He leered before sticking his hand into my stomach. I screamed as I felt the red-hot pain searing through my abdomen.
"Hey calm down!" John came into my view as I panicked more, fearing for my life and began to struggle. I felt a pinprick in my arm and everything went black.
"She's calm now John, but she hasn't woken up yet," I struggled to throw off the confines of darkness behind my eyelids. Blinking my eyelids against the light, I looked up to see Mycroft pacing throughout the room.
"My?" I whispered my voice hoarse. He looked up at me.
"She just woke up, John," Mycroft spoke into his phone. "Call you back." He gave me some water after he helped me sit upright. "How are you feeling?"
"Like I was hit by a double-decker bus," I mumbled, my throat cracking from nonuse.
"You were not hit by a bus darling," Mycroft spoke softly.
"John texted me and let me know Lia is awake," my brow furrowed when I heard that familiar voice. But it couldn't be here. Blearily I wondered if this was a dream.
"Looking up at the doorway I saw a familiar face. The face of my older brother Dean. He looked every bit as exhausted as Mycroft.
"Dean?" I whispered.
"Lia! How are you, baby?" He stepped into the room, coming to my side. I felt tears come to my eyes. I breathed in Dean's scent as it wrapped around me like a comforting hug. The familiar scent of my childhood.
"Good," I managed.
"God you had me scared Lia," Dean said sitting on the edge of the bed. "Don't you ever do that to me again!" He pulled me into his chest for a hug. I clutched onto his t-shirt.
"What happened?" I mumbled into his shirt, which muffled my voice. He chuckled.
"Sam old Lia," He brushed a kiss onto my forehead before shouting. "Sammy! Get your huge freaky self in here!" Dean yelled. I smacked his arm weakly as I was gently laid back on the pillows. While we waited, I entwined Mycroft and my finger's together.
"OW!" He was such a drama queen. "Woman you are already subjecting me to your abuse. Mycroft I feel sorry for you."
"Shut up Dean," Sam said walking into the room. "Good to see you not looking like death warmed over."
"We would know," I blinked at him tiredly. Dean snorted at my comment.
"You hungry?" Sam asked. The sound of my stomach's growl filled the room and made Sam and Dean laugh.
"I'll go have Eva warm up some of the soup Mrs. Hudson had Sherlock and John bring," Mycroft gave my hand a squeeze before kissing my cheek. He left, leaving me alone with my brothers.
"I cannot believe that you are marrying that stiff man," Dean raised his eyebrows at me.
"Why not?" I murmured, resting my head back onto the soft pillows.
"Because he is a stuff shirt! The complete opposite of what I can see you with!" Dean burst out. "He's all uppity and has a stick stuck so far up his - "
"I personally like him," Sam interrupted his brother, sitting on the chair beside the bed.
"Of course, you would," Dean scoffed at out little brother. "Personally, I thought Sherlock would be more your type."
"Oh stop it, Dean!" I yelped, tired of his commentary about my life already.
"Dean!" Sam said disapprovingly.
"Dean I'm not in love with Sherlock. I'm in love with Mycroft," I said before taking a few sips of the water Mycroft had left on the nightstand.
"I'm happy for you Helia," Sam offered.
"Well," Dean was offended now. "How are you going to continue to hunt and be attached to someone? Possibly start a family with him?"
"Dean I'm planning on retiring after Mycroft and I are married. I cannot raise a family and go out on hunts. It's too dangerous. We would know," I informed Dean of my intentions. Mycroft hadn't even been aware of my decision.
"Oh," Dean gave me a long, unreadable stare. "He means that much to you?"
"Yeah, Dean. Mycroft has changed me – for the better," Sam gave me a soft smile. "He's definitely one of the best things that happened to me."
"Soup, darling!" Mycroft came into the room with a tray. I smiled at him and noticed the soft look in his eye.
I ate the stew, probably about half before I fell asleep once more. When I awoke next, it was dark and Mycroft was sleeping next to me. I really had to use the restroom or loo as Mycroft refers to it, so I eased my way out of bed and shakily made my way to the loo. I was dizzy, but I made it with little problems. I left the door open, just in case, and carefully went through the motions before shuffling, painfully, back to bed.
Mycroft had awoken when I left and curled an arm around me once I was situated. I welcomed the added warmth of Mycroft, carefully scooting backward into his body heat. He tightened his hold on me, bringing his head to rest on my shoulder.
"I love you Mycroft," I murmured laying my hand on top of his, which rested on my navel.
"I love you my Helia," Mycroft mumbled, his breath tickling my neck. "Did you mean what you said to your brothers?" He asked after several moments. I turned around to face him, wincing a little from the stretch it caused my stomach.
"Of course, I did My," I brought my hand up to rest on his chest. "You do make me a better person. And I could never see myself with someone that wasn't you."
My proclamation was sealed with a toe-curling kiss. When I finally broke away for breath, I pressed a kiss to Mycroft's throat. His hands stroked my back, making my skin rise with goosebumps.
"I'm glad you feel the same about me," Mycroft said, once he had his own breathing under control. I pressed another kiss to his throat, before yawning. "Return to your slumber, Lia." I snuggled closer to Mycroft as I fell back asleep.
Waking up the next morning, the sun was already high in the sky. I didn't even have to roll over to know that Mycroft had left. He had to go be the British Government. Sitting up I found a note placed on his pillow.
My dearest Helia,
I apologize that I have to leave you, especially since you have not yet recovered. Dr. John Watson and Sherlock should visit around one. Your brothers have been working on a case.
I should be home around six, darling. Text me if you need anything, I can send Anthea over. Please try not to move too much.
Mycroft
I had to smile at his note. He knew me too well to assume that I would be content to lie in bed all day long. I put his note aside and attempted to get up. The movement pulled on my stitches causing me to lay back down. Steeling my constitution, I managed to get out of bed.
Shuffling out the door I had to stop periodically along the way towards the stairs. Walking down the stairs was agony. I stopped every step-down, tears falling down my face as every step caused more pain.
Finally, I was on the lower level and walked into the library. Mycroft had left a stack of books on the table so that I didn't have to injury myself any further. I curled up in the huge recliner which was situated in front of the roaring fire and continued to read "A Queen's Fool" by Philippa Gregory.
"Hey, how are you feeling?" A voice startled me out of my reverie. I looked up from my book to see Sherlock and John standing in front of me.
"John! Sherlock!" I carefully pressed a bookmark into my book before I set it down.
"Lia," Sherlock said shortly before he sat down in a chair and steepled his fingers underneath his chin.
"I need to see your abdomen," John said, kneeling in front of me. I nodded before sitting back in the chair John carefully pulled my shirt up or rather Mycroft's shirt, to expose the bandages on my stomach.
He gently began to peel the tape off my exposed skin. It hurt, especially since he was doing it slowly. I winced and braced myself for the pain until Sherlock spoke.
"John, just rip it off quickly," Sherlock intoned, his voice indicating boredom as he studied me. John looked up at me before he pulled it off. A string of obscenities followed.
"I'm sorry," John gave me an apologetic glance. I looked down at my injured stomach and saw four red gashes. Ugly black stitches knitted the angry skin together.
"Wow. I'm really attractive," I rolled my eyes as John ensured there wasn't infection left over, festering inside of the wounds.
"You're rather average," Sherlock drawled from his chair, causing both John and me to scowl at him. Then the two of us burst into laughter as we remembered the way Sherlock had disapproved of Mycroft and my relationship. Now he is sat in a chair teasing me.
"Sherlock!" John gasped, once he had curbed his laughter.
"Not good?" Sherlock asked, puzzled at the reprimand.
"A bit not good, yeah," John told him. I just giggled and took no offense to Sherlock's remark. His phone rang, echoing in the silence.
"Sherlock Holmes," Sherlock answered the phone. He snapped it shut a few moments later. "John we have a case."
"Seriously, Sherlock?" John questioned as he put more tape onto the bandages. When he was done, he pulled my shirt down with a long-suffering sigh. "You'll be alright on your own?"
"Of course John. Get! Be gone with the both of you!" I playfully shooed them out of the library, able to pick up my book again.
"Alright, but give Mycroft, Sherlock, your brothers, Lestrade, or myself a call if something happens," John demanded as he pulled on his jacket. I nodded and rolled my eyes at his protectiveness.
"I will do. Now go and leave me alone," I scowled at them both, before delving back into the pages of my book.
Everything was fine until my brother Sam called me. He needed me to do some research on a Woman in White up in Northumberland. I rolled my eyes and began to do the research that my brothers needed.
"Helia," Mycroft shook me awake. I started violently and ended up falling off the couch. "Are you alright?"
"Yeah," I grunted, allowing Mycroft to reposition me on the couch. "How was your day?"
"Great," Mycroft gave me a wide smile, before taking a seat beside me. "A little hectic with rumors of one member of Parliament having an affair with an intern."
"Wow!" I mocked Mycroft, in a teasing manner. "That kind of scandal happens all the time in America!"
Mycroft merely scowled at me, which only caused me to giggle, albeit taking care of the ache in my stomach. He rolled his eyes back at me, before picking up the ancient tome that had fallen onto the floor. Mycroft set it down carefully on the coffee table.
"What did John have to say about my injuries?" I inquired of my stoic boyfriend.
"Why do you presume that I would know?" Mycroft and innocence did not go hand in hand.
"Only the fact that you know everything about everybody," I muttered darkly.
"Now that is an unjust accusation. I do not know everything about everybody," Mycroft protested.
"Whatever. Just tell me what John said," I muttered and he grinned.
"According to John, you are healing quite quickly. He has estimated about four more days until the stitches will need to be removed. Then it is just the matter of not overexerting yourself," Mycroft shot me a meaningful look, which I proceeded to ignore.
"Oh. That's good right?" I was avoiding Mycroft's steely blue eyes which were currently pinning me with a very intense gaze.
"Very. Now, are you going to inform me of what happened? Your brothers were quite vague," I flinched as the ice and disdain in his voice was made quite clear.
"Wendigo My." I offered. "Remember the missing hiker's I informed you about? Well here's the full story."
We had arrived at Blackwater Creek. There we found one witness who assured us that whatever had taken his parents and left the marks on his body was not, in fact, a grizzly bear. Once we had investigated, we found that the 'bear' was only attacking people for several months out of the year, once every twenty-three years, we knew we weren't dealing with a grizzly.
We decided to go out to where the last camper had disappeared from. Along the way, we met up with three others – Haley, Ben, and their guide Roy. Roy immediately grated on my nerves. Ben and Sam hit it off and Dean liked talking to Haley, go figure. Therefore, I was glad when we reached Blackwater Ridge.
"This is it. Blackwater Ridge," Roy announced. I looked around and all I saw were trees.
"What coordinates are we at?" Sam asked.
"Thirty-five and minus one-eleven," Roy said after pulling out his GPS. The three of us share significant looks because dad's journal has those coords circled. Dean, Sam, and I all listen to the nonexistent sounds around us.
"You hear that?" Dean asks us.
"Yeah," I mutter before putting my hand inside Dean's pocket for a handful of peanut M & M's.
"Not even crickets," Sam says as I crammed about ten M & M's into my mouth.
"I'm gonna go take a look around," Roy suddenly announced.
"You shouldn't go off by yourself," Sam warned.
"Who knows if that grizzly is still out there?" I nodded and tried to help out Sam's cautioning of the arrogant man.
"That's sweet. Don't worry about me," Roy said. Dean's face went tight with anger as Roy waved his gun and took point once again. Then Haley and Ben caught up.
"All right, everybody stay's together," Dean said.
"Let's go."
"Haley over here!" Roy's voice filtered through the air as we were looking near a rock. Haley took off towards Roy's voice, which prompts us to follow after her. Then we all stopped as we caught sight of the torn and bloody tents.
"Oh my god," Haley said horrified.
"Looks like a grizzly," Roy said.
"Tommy?" Haley called out, taking off her backpack. Then she goes through the wrecked campsite. "Tommy!"
"Sh," Sam tried to shush her, and rushed to her side.
"Tommy!" Haley screamed again.
"SHHHHH!" Sam admonished.
"Why?"
"Something might still be out there," I said and stood up from my spot next to Dean.
"Sam! Helia!" Dean admonished the both of us but called Sam over. I rolled my eyes at his admonishment. "The bodies were dragged from the campsite. But here, the tracks just vanish. That's weird." The three of us stood up, not sure of how to proceed next.
"That means we can cross off skinwalker and black dog," Dean nodded, agreeing with my logic.
Dean and I walked the twenty paces back to the trashed campsite. I looked over to see Haley picking up a cell phone. Then she cried and turned the device over. My brother, Dean, ever the comforter of women, crouched next to her.
"Hey, he could still be alive," Dead tried for encouraging. I shot him a withering glare.
"Help! Help!" We all sprang into action and ran in the direction of the person calling for help. "Help! Somebody!"
We came to a halt in the clearing. We turned around confused - there was no one here. No one that was screaming for help. My skin prickled as the silence continued in this clearing.
"Dean," I said in a low tone. He nodded in understanding.
"It seemed like it was coming from around here, didn't it?" Haley looked freaked out. I caught Sam's eye and jerked my head.
"Everybody back to camp." This proved to be a mistake as when we got back all of our gear was missing.
"Our pack!" Haley cried out.
"So much for my GPS and my satellite phone," Roy grumbled, more upset over the loss of his electronic crap than what had taken it.
"What the hell is going on?" Haley demanded.
"It's smart," I remarked and Sam nodded in agreement.
"Yeah. It wants to cut us off so we can't call for help," Sam nodded his head.
"You mean someone, some nutjob out there just stole all our gear?" Roy asked, incredulous.
"We need to speak," Same turned towards Dean and I. "In private." The three of us walked little ways away from Haley, Ben, and Roy.
"Let me see Dad's journal," After exchanging a look with Dean, I reluctantly handed it over. Sam flipped through the pages until he held it open for both of us. "All right, check that out."
Intrigued by what Sam thought we were hunting, I leaned in closer. I was confused – it was a First Nations style drawing of a figure. A crude animal shape. Or a wendigo.
A wendigo is essentially a creature that was once human but was transformed into an immortal, evil spirit when it took up the practice of cannibalism. Wendigos are cursed to wander the land, eternally seeking to fulfill their voracious appetite for human flesh.
The only problem with this theory was they inhabit the northern woods of Minnesota, Michigan, and in the north central regions of Canada. People have called Kenna, Ontario in Canada the Wendigo capital of the world.
"Oh come on!" Dean brought me out of my musings.
"Sammy, wendigos are in the Minnesota woods, Canada or northern Michigan," I voiced.
"Yeah. I've never heard of one this far west." Dean agreed with me.
"Think about it, Dean, Lia. The claws, the way it can mimic a human voice," Sam was earnest about his findings.
"Great," Dean pulled out his gun. "Then our guns are useless."
Sammy gave me back the journal. He stopped as he passed Dead.
"We gotta get these people to safety," I rolled my eyes but followed my brother back to the campsite.
"All right! Listen up!" I called out. Sam shot me a glare.
"It's time to go. Things have gotten . ."
"More complicated," I finished the sentence.
"What?" Haley asked, outraged.
"Kid, don't worry," Roy said cockily. "Whatever's out there, I think I can handle it."
"That's what I'm worried about," I mumbled, not at all confident about Roy and his abilities.
". . . You're just gonna make it mad. We have to leave." Sam stressed. "Now!"
"One, you're talking nonsense. Two, you're in no position to give anybody orders," Roy ground out. I rolled my eyes, wanting nothing more than to leave Roy here for the Wendigo to snack on. I wonder how he'd feel about handling it then.
"Relax," Dean tried to keep the peace.
"We should have never let you come out here in the first place, all right?" I groaned. "I'm trying to protect you!"
"SAM!" I said sharply. Then Roy stepped into Sam's personal space. Dean put a hand on me to assist in calming me down.
"You, protect me?" Roy scoffed. "I was hunting these woods when your mommy was still kissing you good night."
"Yeah?" Sam challenged.
"Roy, it's a damn near perfect hunter," I intervened.
"It's smarter than you."
"Easy to be," Dean snickered at my commentary.
"And it's gonna hunt you down and eat you alive unless we get your stupid sorry ass out of here." I groaned. Roy laughed.
"You know you're crazy right?"
"Yeah? You ever hunt a wen-" Dean suddenly pushed Sam backward with a warning look.
"Roy!" Haley admonished.
"Chill out," Dean warned Sam.
"Stop! Stop it! Everybody just stop!" Haley cried out. I agreed with her. "Look. Tommy might still be alive. And I'm not leaving here without him." Everyone was silent. Dean looked at me and I shrugged. I knew the feeling.
"It's getting late. This thing is a good hunter in the daytime, but an unbelievable hunter at night," Dean stated.
"We'll never beat it," I replied. "Especially not in the dark. Where it thrives."
"We need to settle in and protect ourselves," Dean commanded.
"How?" Haley asked. As my brother answered her questions, I began to draw the Anasazi symbols into the dirt surrounding the campsite.
"One more time, that's - " Haley wanted to know as I drew near Dean who was also drawing symbols on his side of the campsite.
"Anasazi symbols. It's for protection," Dean explained for the thousandth time. I rolled my eyes as I met the eyes of my younger brother Sam.
"The Wendigo cannot cross over them," I yelled. Haley flushed and Roy laughed as he put his gun over his shoulder.
"Nobody likes a skeptic, Roy," Dean called out. I snickered but inwardly seethed. Roy was getting on my nerves more and more.
"You wanna tell me what's going on in that freaky head of yours?" Dean asked Sam, as he set next to him.
"Dean-"
"No, you're not fine Sammy," I spoke up, coming to stand in front of my brothers.
"Yeah, Lia's right," Dean admitted.
"I need to get a shirt that says that," I teased him.
"You're like a powder keg, man, it's not like you. I'm supposed to be the belligerent one, remember?" Dean tried to break through to our little brother.
"Dad's not here," Sam said after a few moments of silence. "I mean, that much we know for sure, right? He would have left us a message, a sign, right?"
"Yeah," I nodded at Sam. Dad might have been a little centered on hunting, okay, maybe a lot, but he would leave a sign for us.
"Tell you the truth, I don't think Dad's ever been to Lost Creek," Dean had admitted.
"Then let's get these people back to town and let's hit the road," Sam had said. "Go find Dad. I mean, why are we still even here?"
"Sam, you know why!" I broke in. I held out the journal. "this book. This is Dad's single most valuable possession – everything he knows about every evil thing is in here, in this book."
"And he's passed it on to us," Dean took over for me. " I think he wants us to pick up where he left off. You know, saving people, hunting things. The family business!" Sam shook his head in denial.
"That makes no sense!" Sam cried out in frustration. "Why doesn't he just – call us or something! Why doesn't he just tell us what he wants, tell us where he is?"
"I dunno," Dean said. I shrugged my shoulders. "But the way I see it it, Dad's giving us a job to do, and I intend to do it."
"Dean, Lia, no!" Sam protested. "I gotta find Jessica's killer. It's the only thing I can think about."
"All right Sam," I nodded at my little brother. "We'll find them, I promise. Listen to me!" I snapped and Sam met my eyes. "You've gotta prepare yourself. All this anger inside you might kill you, Sammy. Look how long it's taken Dad to track down Mom's killer. Who know how long this will take Same. Patience is key."
"How do you all do it?" Sam finally asked the both of us. Dean and I both looked over towards Haley and Ben.
"Well for one, them," Sam looked over to see what Dean was talking about.
"I've always thought since our own family's so screwed to hell, maybe just maybe, we can help some others. Makes everything a little more bearable in the long run," I stated with a faint smile.
"I'll tell you what else helps," Sam looked at Dean. "Killing as many evil sons of bitches as I possibly can." Sam smiled. Then we all tensed as we heard a twig snap.
"Help me! Please!" Dean and I pulled out our guns. "Help!"
"He's trying to draw us out," Dean said as Sam shined his flashlight around. "Just stay cool, stay put."
"Inside the magic circle," Roy bit out, and I wanted to push his outside of the magic circle.
"Help me! Help me!" Then we heard growling sounds.
"Okay, that's no grizzly," Roy stated, aiming his gun towards the sound.
"It's okay. You'll be alright, I promise," Haley reassured Ben before something ran past the campfire. She shrieked.
"It's here," Sam announced. Way to state the obvious. Roy started shooting towards the sound.
"I hit it!" I watched in horror as Roy rushed off to see his kill.
"Roy, no! Roy!" Dean shouted. He turned to the two remaining civilians. "Don't move." Then the three of us ran after Roy.
"It's over here! It's in the tree!" Roy called out from in front of us.
"Roy!" Sam flashed the light around as Dean and I called for Roy. Apparently he was now food for the Wendigo.
We ran back to the camp. Then we had to tell Haley and Ben about the possible demise of Roy. And I took first watch for the night.
"Sammy?" I knelt next to my little brother as he sat against a tree stump, playing with Dad's journal.
"Hmm?" Sam hummed.
"It'll be alright," Sam smiled at me.
"Thanks, Lia." Then we got up and made our way over where Haley, Ben, and Dean were talking amongst the tents. "Hey." Haley stood up.
"We've got half a chance in the daylight," I stated.
"And I for one want to kill this evil son of a bitch," Sam announced, which made Dean grin.
"Well, hell, you know I'm in," I had to roll my eyes at Dean's moment of immaturity.
"Wendigo is a Cree Indian word. It means evil that devours," Sam explained and let the two civilians see Dad's journal.
"They're hundreds of years old. Each one was once a man," Dean picked up the explanation. "Sometimes an Indian or other times frontiersmen or a miner or a hunter."
"How's a man turn into one of those things?" Haley asked, horrified. I answered as Dean was picking up garbage.
"It's always the same. During some harsh winter, a guy finds himself starving, cut off from supplies or help," I stated. "And then they become a cannibal to survive, eating other members of his tribe or camp."
"Like the Donner party," Ben spoke up, to which I nodded.
"Cultures al over the world believe that eating human flesh gives a person certain abilities," I grimaced. "Speed, strength, immortality."
"If you eat enough of it, over years, you become this less than human thing. You're always hungry," Dead explained.
"If that's true, how can Tommy still be alive?" Haley asked.
"You're not gonna like it," Dean stated, looking at Sam and I before he turned his gaze onto Haley.
"Tell me," her tone booked no room for arguing. Dean signed before beginning to explain.
"More than anything, a wendigo knows how to last long winters without food. It hibernates for years at a time, but when it's awake it keeps its victims alive. It, uh, it stores them so it can feed whenever it wants." Dean sounded unsure of how much he should tell her.
"What my brother means to say, if your brother is still alive, the Wendigo is going to have him stored somewhere," I interrupted the incredibly awkward conversation. "So we've got to track the Wendigo back to its den."
"And then how do we stop it?" Haley asked.
"Guns are useless," I started. "As well as knives."
"Basically we gotta torch the sucker," Dean said holding up the materials for a Molotov cocktail.
Several hours later and we were traipsing through the forest. Dean had started out leading us but then it had been passed to Sam. We were trying to follow the trail of broken branches and bloody marks.
"Dean?" Sam called out. "Helia?"
"What is it?" Dean asked as we both hurried to catch up with our brother. Sam motions to the marks we were following.
"You know I was thinking those claw prints are so clear and distinct," Sam said. "They were almost too easy to follow."
I had to groan as Sam jinxed us with that statement. Almost immediately we heard growling. The three of us whirled around. Then we heard the trees begin to rustle.
All of a sudden Haley screamed. Turning around I watched as Roy's corpse fell to the ground. I moved over with Dean to examine the body. I noticed immediately his neck was broken.
"His neck, it's broken," Dean noticed as well. We got to our feet just as more growling noises were heard.
"Okay. Run, run, run, run!" Dean yelled. "Go, go, go!" We all took off, only for Ben to trip and fall. Sam went to help him, so I stayed with Dean and Haley. All of a sudden, the Wendigo was there. Haley screamed and then I lost consciousness.
"Dean!" I moaned as I came to and saw that my brother was cutting Dean down.
"Hey, you okay?" Sam asked, still focusing on Dean.
"Yeah," Dean groaned.
"Helia? You okay?" Sam came over to cut me down.
"Yeah Sam," I winced. I had a terrible headache. Sam helped me over to where Dean and Haley were located.
"You sure you're both alright?" Sam asked, worried about us.
"Yeah, yep," Dean grimaced. "Where is he?"
"He's gone for now," Sam promised us. Haley got up.
"Tommy," she must have found her brother because then she shrieked, "cut him down!" Sam complied.
"We're gonna get you home," Haley promised him.
"Check it out," I turned to see Dean with a pair of flare guns.
"Flare guns," Sam remarked.
"That'll do," I winced before taking a proffered gun. Sam grinned and Dean twirled the guns like he was from the wild west.
As we left the storage room, Dean, Sam, and I were int eh lead. Ben and Haley were behind us helping their brother Tommy. Suddenly we heard growling.
"Looks like someone's home for supper," Dean remarked, dryly.
"We'll never outrun it," Haley stated, looking scared. Dean looked at the others.
"You thinking what I'm thinking?"
"Yeah, I think so," Sam said sounding weary.
"All right. Listen to me," Dean spoke. "Stay with Sam. He's gonna get you out of here."
"What are you and Helia going to do?" Haley asked. Dean winked before he started to walk and yell. I moved in the opposite direction.
"Chow time you freaky bastard!"
"Helloooo?" I screamed, running through one of the tunnels. "Come and get me!"
All of a sudden the Wendigo was there. I shot a flare but missed. The Wendigo growled and swiped its claws at me, catching my stomach. I felt the thin layers of skin give way and I grit my teeth in pain. The Wendigo turned and fled.
With a groan, I pulled myself along the tunnels. I used the walls for support as I tried to find my brothers in the underground mine maze. Finally, I heard Dean yelling for me.
"Helia!"
"Over here!" Dean took one look at me and scooped me off my feet.
"Dean - "
"No buts Lia," he said before making his way to the exit. "I'm serious."
Finally, we reached the bright sunshine. Sam took me from Dean's arms. Then once we got back to the hotel, they patched me up.
"The End," I grinned up at Mycroft. He shook his head.
"You need to be more careful next time!" Mycroft admonished before giving me a kiss. "Come on. Dinner will be served shortly."
Therefore, I was back into the normalcy of my regular routine. I healed, completely, before Mycroft even considered the possibility of letting me go out on another hunt.