Disclaimer: Sam, Dean, Bobby, and any original canon belong to Eric Kripke and the CW. Lines from episode 1x22: "Devil's Trap" belong to writer Eric Kripke. The lyrics to "Don't You Remember" belong to Adele and Dan Wilson. Tawny belongs to me.
When will I see you again?
You left with no goodbye, not a single word was said
No final kiss to seal anything
I had no idea of the state we were in
November 12, 1985
The phone rang 4 times before someone picked up. "Typical small town sheriff's office," thought John, sighing and leaning forward on the small table in the motel room.
"Sioux Falls Police Department, how may I help you?" drawled the deputy on the other end. Male. Sounded Caucasian. Maybe early twenties.
John cleared his throat and tried to sound as official as possible. "This is Special Agent Wilkes with the FBI. We've been alerted to some incidents in your area. I was wondering if it would be possible for me to come down and pick up the reports on those incidents," he said crisply, glancing into the main room. Dean and Sammy were still glued to the TV, the Roadrunner keeping them occupied. Good.
There was some shuffling. "What incidents might those be, sir?" asked the deputy. John couldn't quite tell whether the deputy believed his line of bull or not. "Two murders. Joanne Clark and Walter Hobbs. Happened 8 and 4 days ago, respectively."
In truth, John hadn't been drawn to Sioux Falls by the murders at all. He had just found out about those an hour ago. No, he was here because of the storms and cattle deaths. He had found the same patterns in Lawrence in the week before Mary died, along with 3 suspicious deaths. This is a pattern that repeated itself 5 other times in the past 3 years. John hoped he could stop it before the third death.
"Well, for you to get the documents you'll have to come in and show some ID. That shouldn't be a problem, now, should it?" So the deputy didn't believe he was with the FBI. Good thing he had a convincing ID.
"Not at all. I'll be there tomorrow morning. It'd be great if you had the files ready when I get there."
After curt goodbyes, John hung up the phone and gathered the newspaper clippings, maps, and weather charts he had strewn across the table. He tucked them into his journal and closed it. Sammy laughing drew John's attention and he sighed, standing and walking up behind his sons.
"You two hungry?" he asked, and both boys nodded. Sammy sighed heavily and exclaimed "I could eat a whole ephalent!"
"It's elephant, Sammy," Dean corrected, shooting John a sideways glance. He nodded his approval and Dean nodded back, settling the matter. "Okay. One large elephant, coming right up," he said, and Sammy smiled broadly.
John was glad he could still make a joke now and then. The boys had been through hell the past three years and John knew it. Sammy wasn't old enough to know the truth about Mary's death, but John was starting to think Dean knew more than he let on. A week ago they were in Nebraska and John peeked in on Sammy and Dean late one night. His chest tightened when he saw Dean checking the closet and under the bed. The kid knew monsters were real, despite John doing his best to keep him in the dark.
"You okay, daddy?"
His son's face came into focus, his own green eyes reflected back at him. "I'm good, Dean," he said gruffly, and Dean pulled himself into John's lap.
"How does pizza sound?"
November 14, 1985
John couldn't help but be a little bit jealous when he pulled up to Singer Auto. He'd had the dream of owning a place like this once upon a time, and he let himself long for the past while he guided the Impala up to the garage. The owner, one Robert Singer, was bent under the hood of an old Chevelle. He turned when he heard the purr of John's engine.
"Oh, she's a beauty," he said as John stepped out, and John smiled proudly. "Yeah, she's definitely a keeper," John responded, closing the door and running a hand down the hood. Knowing the he could spend all day talking cars and they didn't have that kind of time, John decided to get down to business.
"I'm Agent Wilkes with the FBI," he said, flipping the badge open and letting Singer inspect it. When he looked satisfied, John tucked it back into his pocket.
"You must be here about the murder Karen witnessed," he said matter-of-factly. John nodded. "She's up at the house with our daughter. I needed a break anyways." He set down the rag he had in his hand and dropped the hood of the Chevelle.
"It's right up here," he offered.
"Thanks, Mr. Singer," John offered, and Bobby grimaced.
"Bobby. My father was Mr. Singer."
John could tell by his reaction that Bobby and Mr. Singer didn't get along well. John nodded.
"In that case, you can call me John."
The house reminded John of their house in Lawrence immediately. There were two rocking chairs on the porch (John could tell Bobby had put it in himself) and a few Little Tykes toys between them. John could smell pie baking from the open window. Bobby opened the door, calling for Karen as he set his hat down on a table by the door. John smiled when he heard a toddler's laughter and figured it must be Bobby's daughter. Sure enough, a little girl of almost two came running down the hallway, her hands held up towards Bobby. She giggled as Bobby scooped her up.
"Tawny, this is Mr. John. Can you say hi?" he urged, but Tawny suddenly turned shy. She buried her face in Bobby's shoulder, her brown curls bouncing. Bobby chuckles and looks at John. "Kids."
Bobby leads John into the dining room, offering him a chair. John declines; something feels off. He looks up when Karen Singer walks into the room, a flour dusted apron covering a pink blouse and jeans. Her blonde hair was pulled back into a braid and John thought of Mary. The two could have been sisters.
"Who's this?" she asks, reaching back and untying the apron. Bobby sets Tawny down and she immediately goes to her mother. "This is Agent Wilkes. He's here to talk to you about Walt," Bobby answered, and Karen nodded.
"Let me just go put Tawny down for her nap and we can talk," she offered. As if on cue, Tawny yawned widely and rubbed her eyes. Karen scooped her up and disappeared into the next room. John noted that the stairs ran along the back wall as Karen's footsteps could be heard. From the creaking door, Tawny's room was above the next room over.
"You got any kids?" Bobby asks, breaking the silence. John looks at him and clears his throat. "Uh, yeah. Two boys. Dean's six and Sammy's three," John says. Bobby smiles. "Tawny will be two on the 23rd."
Before they can switch topics, Karen walks back into the room and crosses her arms over her chest. "So, you're here about Walt?"
John nods. "Yes, ma'am."
"Well, I don't know how much I can tell you. I didn't see much," she says, and John nods again.
"Anything you can tell me would be helpful," John says. It's Karen's turn to nod as she sinks into a chair.
"Well, we were out of milk, so I ran into town to pick some up at the gas station. It was late, and I recognized Walt's truck. He's the owner, so I figured that's why he was there. Y'know, minding the shop and all. When I went in, I saw the blood. He was on the floor in front of the register. I ran out to the payphone and called the sheriff. Told him the same thing I'm telling you," Karen says. The way she recounts it makes John uneasy; she doesn't react to what she's saying. John writes it off as her way of dealing.
"Did you notice anything strange when you walked in? Any smells, or smoke?" he asks, and Karen shakes her head.
"Not that I can recall, no."
John nodded, unable to shake the feeling that she was hiding something. He would just have to check out the security footage from that night, if there was any.
"Well, thank you, Mr. and Mrs. Singer. I'll be in touch if there's anything else I need."
He shook Karen's hand and Bobby offered to walk him to the Impala. As they passed by the door, John noticed a yellowish powder in the window. He managed to swipe a finger through it without Bobby noticing, and was careful not to rub any of it off all the way down the drive. Upon further inspection, John (regrettably) confirmed his suspicion upon smelling it. Sulfur. There was definitely a demon in that house, and John hoped he could get to it in time to keep that little girl from being an orphan.
"Why does it always have to rain?" John grumbles, turning on his brights and his windshield wipers up a level. It's almost midnight, but this really couldn't wait. John had spent the last six hours faking a federal warrant so he could get the cops to hand over the footage from the gas station the night Walter Hobbs was murdered. When he saw it, he knew why the cops were so stingy about handing it over.
At 9:42 PM on Sunday, November 10th, Karen Singer walked into Walt's Gas 'N' Sip. She sees the blood on the floor and his mangled corpse. Then, just before the tape cuts off into static, a large cloud of what looks like black smoke makes its way out of an air vent and into Karen's mouth.
Karen Singer was possessed.
John nearly lost control as he skidded onto the Singers' property, the Impala fishtailing as he made his way up to the house. He threw the car into park and grabbed his duffle, pulling out the Rite of Exorcism he had written down and shoving it in his pocket, along with a flask of Holy Water. Not even caring that the car was still running, John took off up to the front door. The sound of Bobby yelling and Tawny crying told John he needn't knock, so he shoved the door open. The house was dark, but John had memorized most of the layout earlier in the day. From the sound of it, Bobby and Karen were in the kitchen and Tawny… he couldn't tell where Tawny was.
"Karen, please…" John heard Bobby plead, and when John walked in he thought he was going to be sick.
Karen's nightgown was covered in blood, a carving knife sticking out of her chest. Bobby was on the ground by the sink, cowering. John knew how he felt. When Karen turned, her eyes were completely black.
"Can't you see we're busy?" demon-Karen spat, flicking her wrist. Luckily John was quicker, splashing her with Holy Water and distracting her while he ran for Bobby. Splashing her again, he grabbed the other man by the shirt and pulled him up.
"Get Tawny and get out. My car is out front. If I'm not out in ten minutes, go to the police station. My boys are at the motel on Treemont," he instructed, and Bobby nodded quickly, looking between him and Karen.
"Now, Bobby!"
Bobby ran, and John didn't breathe again until he heard the front door slam. There was a crack of thunder outside and John turned, spotting Karen on the other side of the kitchen. He managed to get her down with Holy Water before wrestling her into a chair and tying her to it. Ten minutes later, the Rite was finished and Karen Singer was dead.
23 Years Later
Tawny's in the kitchen peeling potatoes when she hears the knock on the door. She grabs a towel, wiping her hands as she crosses the room.
"I got it, Daddy!" she calls, hearing the grunt from the other room. She rolls her eyes, knowing he'd probably fallen asleep again. The second knock started to grind on her, so she grabs a small bottle of Holy water her father keeps by the door and slowly opens it.
The Winchester brothers stare at her. Dean's eyes, as green as ever, are wide as he looks her up and down. Tawny would later swear she heard a low whine come from Sam's throat. His brother is the first to speak.
"Wow, Tawny. You've really grown into yourself," he says matter-of-factly, staring pointedly at her chest. She rolls her eyes.
"Yeah, well, you still haven't grown into your big head," she quips, turning to Sam. "You, on the other hand, are a freaking giant."
Sam grins, breaking from his stupor as she walks forward to give him a hug. They embrace, Sam planting a light kiss on the crown of her head, before she turns back to open the door for them. She leaves them in the hall, almost running to the living room.
"Dad, its Sam and Dean," she says, grabbing the remote and turning off the TV. Bobby sits up quickly, nearly flinging himself out of his old La-Z-Boy recliner. "Why are they here?" he asks, straightening his hat as he looks at his daughter. She shrugs.
"Dunno. It must be important, though... Considering you tried to blow John's head off the last time he was here," she says quickly, turning to leave the room. She hears her father grunt his disapproval as she walks quickly to the kitchen. She rolls her eyes at Dean, who, naturally, winks at her when she walks into the room. She wants to kick Sam for telling him she'd had a crush on him as a kid.
"You boys want a couple beers?" she asks, turning to open the fridge. Neither answers so she grabs them anyways, not noticing her father standing in the doorway. She watches him with wide, apprehensive eyes. He takes a moment to speak.
"What the hell happened to your hair, boy? Do they not have scissors in California?" he demands, looking at Sam. The tension leaves the room with a sigh and Sam chuckles. "Apparently not," Dean quips, raising an eyebrow to Tawny. "What about that beer, wench?" he asks, leaning forward on his elbows. Tawny once again rolls her eyes, but walks over and sets down a brew in front of each Winchester. She sits, crossing one leg under the other and putting her forearms on the table, scratching at a piece of chipped paint.
"So, what are you doing here?" she asks, barely noticing Bobby walking to the fridge to get his own beer. Sam and Dean look at each other, the latter sighing loudly before answering. "Dad was kidnapped," he says simply. Tawny only raises her eyebrow. "By…?" she asks, waving a hand as she draws out the word.
Dean sighs again, leaning back and taking a swig of his beer. "Demons," Sam fills in, glancing at each face in the room before chugging his own beer. Tawny groans and Bobby sighs, both looking at each other. "Seriously?" Tawny whines, pushing her chair back and getting up. Bobby walks out of the room, Tawny close behind him. She's out in the hall when she realizes Sam and Dean are still sitting at the table. She leans back around the doorframe and looks at them with raised eyebrows.
"You comin'?" she asks, glancing back to the den, where her father is shuffling through books and papers. The boys look at each other, then back at her. "To do what?" they ask at the same time, and Tawny grins.
"To wrangle us up a demon bitch, that's what."
Tawny's on the porch looking Rumsfeld over when Dean finds her. "He okay?" the green-eyed hunter asks, walking over next to where she's kneeling. Her brown eyes turn up to glance at him before she answers.
"He's got a broken leg and a few scratches. Nothing Dr. Meger over at the Animal Hospital can't fix," she says, patting the Rottweiler on the head before standing. She looks over at the Coroner's van, where they're loading Meg's body. Dean watches her closely as her brown hair is picked up by a gust of wind. She wipes her hands on her jeans, closing her eyes and tilting her head back. She takes a deep breath and Dean sighs.
"Long day," he says stupidly, and Tawny looks at him. "Yeah, and yours isn't over," she replies quietly. They stare at each other, both deep in thought, not moving, barely even breathing. They're closing in when the door slams open and Bobby walks out. Rumsfeld barks happily, wagging the stump of his tail as Bobby walks over to him.
"How's my Rummy?" he asks, kneeling to rub the dog's head. Dean and Tawny grin as the dog's tongue lolls out of his mouth, a look of pure pleasure on his canine face. "You takin' him up to see Joe?" Bobby asks, looking up at his daughter. She nods. "Yeah, I'll take him," she says. Bobby stands, turning to Dean.
"Get outta here and save your dad's ass, will ya?" he says, holding a hand out to shake Dean's. The two embrace, Dean's eyes flicking from the dog to Tawny's face. Bobby pulls back, following Dean's gaze to look at Tawny. "And Dean?" he adds, putting a hand on his shoulder. Dean looks at him, raising his eyebrows.
"Stay the hell away from my little girl," he growls, stomping back into the house. Tawny giggled at the look on Dean's face. "Your dad's scary," he said, wiping his forehead. Tawny only grins, patting him on the shoulder. "Trust me, he can be," she said. Dean smiles at her. She hugs him then, her lip trembling.
"Be careful, okay?" she whispers in his ear. She feels him nod against her cheek, and he turns his face to bury it in her neck. "I promise nothing will happen to me. Or Sam," he replies quietly, pulling away to kiss her cheek. "Thanks for letting us through the door," he says. She nods and the door opens a second time, Sam spilling out of it. He walks over to Tawny and hugs her, whispering his thanks. She only nods to him, kissing his cheek. She watches them walk off of the porch and over to the Impala and she walks over to a beam, leaning against it. She smiles at Dean when he turns and waves before getting into the driver's seat and speeding off. Rumsfeld's whining brings her back to reality and she turns, patting him on the head before going into the house to get the keys to her truck.