Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters, ideas and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.
A/N: Please DO NOT skip, it is very important that you read this to note the deviations I will be making from Canon as SPN begins in 2005 and Hawaii Five-0 in 2010: (1) This story kicks off in 2005, therefore, John McGarrett dies earlier (Nov. 1st), Grace Williams is not 7, but 3-years-old, and the 5-0 Taskforce is created five years earlier. (2) I don't know the exact age of Mary and Kono, but here, they are both 22-years-old. (3) All Steve McGarrett's accomplishments as a SEAL is still the same, but naturally his age is different (29-years-old). (4) A few events from S1 of Hawaii Five-0 will take place in S1 of SPN, however, most of it will kick off in 2010, which correlates with S5 of SPN, and during S5, all events of Hawaii 5-0 will occur naturally as the timeline is the same, 2010 – onwards.
Any other deviations will be self-explanatory. Enjoy! XD
Chapter 1:
PALO ALTO, CALIFORNIA
An inconspicuous black Mercedes with tinted windows sat stationary in an apartment building's allocated parking lot, a block away from Stanford University. Inside, two women, a blonde and a brunette, were stuck in a spell of uninterrupted and tense silence, until the brunette suddenly curled her fingers into a fist and started to ruthlessly punch the steering wheel with all the rage-generated strength she could muster. Unintelligible slurs sprang forth from her lips and doe eyes narrowed to slits were moist with a combination of angry and frightened tears and she persistently beat the steering wheel, occasionally switching fists.
Finally exhausting herself, she stopped, heavy pants resonating the sleek car's interior. Her grip tightened on the leather wheel, her shoulders slumping in defeat and head hung between them with her chocolate curls curtaining her red, tearstained face.
"Feel better?" the blonde spoke up, breaking the nerve-racking ambience.
A short bubble of hysterical laughter emanated from the brunette, her hair whipping around wildly as she shook her head, "Not even close."
Large viridian orbs, clouded with concern, shuttered to a close as the blonde laid her head against the headrest. Steeling herself, she repeated her previous suggestion with as much neutrality as she could muster, "You know there's another way, Ivy. Just say the word and I'll turn the car round… No muss, no fuss, and you'll get absolutely no judgment out of me. You know that."
Tossing her hair over her shoulder, Ivy, despite her puffy face and blood-rimmed eyes, offered her best friend a beatific smile – a feat none but Ivy Winchester could pull off. Clutching the blonde's hand in hers in a desperate grip, Ivy responded with a barely visible shake of her head, "That's not an option, Annie. It never was. You know-, I already told you, it's not in my nature…"
She squeezed Ivy's hand in response, "I know, Ives. Just had to put it out there. Again." Silence ensued, but this time, the tension bled out and the best friends kept a camaraderie grip on each other as they contemplated the current dilemma. "So… Option A?"
"Option A," Ivy echoed in agreement, her dull voice prompting Mary's concern to skyrocket. The blonde twisted in the passenger seat to better gauge the brunette's expression, "Whatchu gonna tell Bro-Squared?"
A spark of defiance reintroduced itself to chocolate orbs and Ivy's entire face turned frantic, her grip on Mary tightening unconsciously, "Nothing! Dean and Sam cannot know! Annie, swear to me. Promise me you won't say a word!"
One eyebrow quirked in astonishment, Mary yanked her hand from her best friend's desperate hold, "Please tell me you're joking? Ivy! …This isn't something you can just hide, nor is it something that would go away just 'cause you will it to. This is real, as real as you and me and all those evil bastards out there." The blonde climbed out of the car and slammed the door shut, Ivy instantly mimicking her. "How exactly are you planning on keeping this from them? No, no. Scratch that," her hands animatedly gestured overhead. "Lemme rephrase. For how long do you think you can keep this from them?" she snapped, hands on her hips and eyes like steel, two characteristic gestures that signaled exactly how serious the usually laidback blonde was, and as always they looked completely foreign on her.
In an attempt to avert the sensible inquiry, Ivy typically chose to act flippant, "Since when are you the voice of reason?"
"Since you obviously ditched your sense of reason on the car ride over!" Mary heatedly retorted, not backing down.
Bright-greens and chocolate-browns collided in an intense stare-off, neither one of them willing to back down with the stakes so high. Nineteen years of friendship established an intimate bond that could never be torn asunder by anyone or anything – not even Mary's father succeeded in separating them, despite his best efforts and multiple attempts, but that's a story for another time. Therefore, Mary knew that riding her hard and evoking her infamous temper would not put a dent in their sisterhood, for deep down, Ivy knew that the blonde only wanted what was best for her, and currently, while Mary's personality was originally a flighty, eternal teen that treated most situations with notes of levity, she was capable of responsibility on her own terms, and she truly was a smart woman with a healthy dose of self-preservation, unlike Ivy's current behavior, who seemed to be on a suicidal streak.
As the pair of steely greens continued to bore into her stubborn orbs, Ivy slowly came to the realization that she was fighting a losing battle. Breaking her gaze, Ivy expelled an anguished sigh, conceding her defeat. Instead of forcing Mary to see her way, the brunette attempted for a plea, "Fine. You win, Annie. I'll tell them, just, just not now. Please, I need time."
Mary pursed her lips and maintained her stare, measuring her best friend's sincerity or if she was simply humoring her. A beat later, her lips quirked into a small smile and she nodded, assuaged. "I guess that's better than nothing. I'm doing this 'cause I love you, Ives, not to be a controlling bitch."
"I know," Ivy smiled tightly; and she did – didn't mean she had to like it.
The blonde frowned as though she overheard the brunette's thoughts. Opening her arms wide, she softly said, "Come 'ere." A choked sob escaped Ivy and she gladly rushed into her arms, embracing her as though she were her anchor. Sad tears escaped Mary's eyelids and she immediately carded a hand through Ivy's hair in an attempt to soothe her, "I'm not going anywhere, Ives. I'll be with you every step of the way, and so will Dean and Sam. Don't you worry about a thing, you hear me?" Her response was another hysterical sob. From over the brunette's shoulder, the pair of viridians landed on the familiar Impala that no matter what, always stood out in a crowd.
…Dean was here.
Comprehending the gist of the conversation seeping into the corridor from the crack under the door, the two women simultaneously rolled their eyes and invited themselves into the apartment in order to alleviate the tension Dean happily created. Even with nineteen years of familiarization under her belt, Mary still found Ivy's acting skills a sight to behold. Not ten minutes ago, the brunette had been bawling her head off, depleting her energy and had basically been, over the five hour car ride from Los Angeles, a massive emotional ball of angst. However, looking at Ivy Winchester, one would have to squint hard to realize her current attitude was merely an iron mask.
"Are we late to the party?" Ivy smirked, eyes genuinely alight with happiness at the sight of her twin. Sam grinned wide in return while Dean rolled his eyes and softly bumped shoulders with Mary in greeting as she came to stand by his side. Approaching her freakishly tall twin, Ivy's smirk didn't falter, "Hey, Nerd."
"Loser," Sam greeted before he encased her in his arms and spun her around, her contagious giggles permeating the small living room. Letting her go, Ivy approached Jessica as Mary moved to embrace Sam. "Jess! Glad to see you stuck around."
Jessica laughed, eyes crinkled in a smile as she accepted her boyfriend's twin's embrace. "It's been a while, Ivy. Was beginning to think you forgot about us."
"Wait. Hold on, you know each other?" Dean had been observing the Troublesome Twosome's interaction with not only Sam, but Jessica, and it had become startlingly clear to the eldest Winchester that his baby sister and honorary sister weren't strangers to the Stanford Campus. He had mixed feelings about it; a part of him felt betrayed that they visited Sam behind his back, while another part experienced a sudden surge of concern at the realization that maybe he shouldn't have given Ivy free reign and demanded to know her whereabouts at all times.
Sam sheepishly lowered his gaze, his face the picture of guilt. Ivy and Mary however, didn't share Sam's qualms. Rolling her eyes, Mary playfully smacked Dean on the chest, "Oh please. Wipe that wounded look off your face, Uncle J knew about our little detours, so Ivy and I thought you did too. It's not like we were actively keeping it a secret." She shrugged for emphasis.
"He did?" Dean and Sam echoed in astonishment.
Ivy scoffed, a twinkle of amusement in her chocolate orbs, "Duh! Dad knows everything." She stubbornly avoided Mary's skeptical glare that spoke volumes. Dad knew everything – emphasis on past tense – as currently, Ivy was harboring a secret that not even her all-knowing father could ever suspect, not in a million years.
"You've been crying," Dean bluntly observed.
Tense and on the defense, Ivy shrugged a shoulder and forced her expression into one of nonchalance, "Yeah, well, that tends to happen when one's heart has been stomped on."
And despite her disapproval at the brunette, Mary averted her eyes, shame consuming her at the reminder of her brother's appalling behavior toward her sister in all but blood. Dean and Sam frowned in confusion, both of them needing the extra time to catch up and connect the dots. Jessica, on the other hand, gasped, a hand flying to cover her parted lips. "You and Steve broke up?"
"Yeah. For a month now," Ivy shrugged again. "Caught him and Whorins in the aftermath of doing the Devil's Dance," she spoke with such forced nonchalance, that nobody bought it, especially her brothers and Mary, all three of whom knew about the all-encompassing love the brunette held for Steve, a love that Dean and Sam strongly believed to be incredibly unhealthy.
Gritting his teeth and clenching his fists, Dean looked positively rabid as he growled, "No offense, Annie, but your brother's dead meat. I'm gonna kill 'im."
Sam nodded sharply, "Nobody hurts Ives and gets away with it."
"Trust me, you stooges gonna have to wait in line. 'Cause I'm getting the first punch in," Mary proclaimed, her expression matching her tone: dead serious.
Like the typical Hunters they intrinsically were, the trio furiously articulated their retribution, conjuring creative scenarios from the top of their head that even had Ivy, despite her heartbreak, wince in sympathy for Steve, and even Catherine as Mary vocally vowed to crush her like a bug if she ever saw her face. Soft-hearted and soft-spoken Jessica however, pinned Ivy under the full force of her compassionate gaze and pulled her into another warming embrace right before giving her the standard speech girls usually found themselves on the receiving end of when experiencing heartbreak, the customary "he's not worth it", "you deserve much better than him", and her personal favorite – note the sarcasm – "one day, he'll wake up and regret it".
Thinking of Catherine Rollins and how compatible she and Steve were, not to mention their history, her role in the United States Navy and her venerable title! …somehow, Ivy doubted Steve would ever come to regret choosing the boyfriend-stealing skank over her, but she decided to keep those morose thoughts to herself, knowing that Jessica was simply doing her duty as a friend.
Not particularly in a rush to relive that heart-wrenching moment yet again, Ivy decided it was time to break up the pow-wow. She cut into the trio's long rigmarole and demanded their attention, her tone snappish and reeking with impatience, "While I appreciate the sentiment you guys, we didn't make the trip here for a Dr. Phil session! Can we get back on track, please?!"
"Right," Mary caught the fraught note in her tone, a clear signal that Ivy was close to breaking into tears. She sent her a wink that screamed 'I got your back, girlfriend!' that made Ivy smile. "So, what exactly did we walk in on?"
Thoroughly distracted from their promised retribution and contemplations in regards to castrating a certain SEAL, the brothers reinstated their glaring contest. Sam, his bitch-face in full force, snidely spat out, "Dean here, was just telling me about Dad's vanishing act." He then shrugged, wholly unconcerned, "Said he's probably working on a Miller Time shift and that he'll stumble in sooner or later like he always does."
Ivy bristled; while she commiserated with Sam and secretly encouraged him to carry out his dreams when he got accepted into Stanford, Ivy did not agree with his methods. She loathed the fact that he cut all contact with Dad and Dean – and while she understood his stance in regards to John Winchester after his parting words to him, she disapproved the way he alienated Dean, claiming he was "Dad's obedient little soldier" when Dean sacrificed everything for Sam's happiness and helped raise the twins since their mother's death and their father's obsession with vengeance. However, while Ivy understood both sides of the coin, hearing her twin speak so callously about their father, it irked her and not even their twin-bond could diminish her fury.
Sam noticed Ivy's reaction, but he remained unaffected. He loved his twin, but he was adamant in his belief that Ivy could never truly understand his resentment of their father. After all, John Winchester was incredibly lax with the only girl of the family – his Darling Princess. He had always given Ivy more breathing space and a semblance of a normal life. From the age of three, John gave Ivy permission to spend her summers with their Uncle Roy in Hawaii, and Sam never got over the unfairness of the entire arrangement.
"And just before you two showed up, I was just about to tell him Dad's on a hunting trip and hasn't been home in a few days," Dean pointedly revealed through gritted teeth, his green glare boring into Sam's orbs that had suddenly widened in alarm, comprehension dawning on him.
Jessica shook her head. "There's too much testosterone in here," she remarked.
Her statement succeeded in palliating the tension, Ivy and Mary letting out a bark of laughter at the truth behind her observation. Unwinding his arm from around Jessica's waist, Sam excused himself and the four Hunters relocated to the hallway to speak more plainly without civilian ears at hearing range.
To say Sam was amenable to their request would be a gross understatement. He fought tooth and nail, claiming he abandoned the Hunter lifestyle for good, and that Mary Winchester would have disapproved of their way of life – a major low blow that had Ivy's temper make a hasty comeback. But in the end, after further argument and pleas, he acquiesced, unable to reject the three most important people in his life, especially after Mary's puckish remark, "C'mon, Sammy. Think of it as a fun weekend road-tripping with your favorite people. Bad food, skeevy motels, arguing with Dean over the same damn in the Impala… how can you say no to that? Fun times, if you ask me."
Nodding wholeheartedly, Ivy made her eyes look even more innocent, "It'll be just like old times, Sammy. What d'you say?" And in unison, the blonde and brunette rearranged their faces into an adorable pout and whined, "Pretty pleasseee."
While they waited for Sam in the Impala, Dean's head tilted to the side, his eyes narrowing on the Mercedes. "Yo, Thelma, Louise, please don't tell me you two stole a Mercedes," Dean inquired in exasperation, almost like he was preparing himself for the worst-case scenario. He loved those two girls but, when separated, they were more than enough trouble and always had to have their asses rescued from the amount of trouble they miraculously managed to get themselves into, together…? Forget about it. Together, the brunette and the blonde were an unstoppable force of nature and were appropriately dubbed many names, including, but not limited to: the Twin Terrors, the Troublesome Twosome, and his ultimate favorite: Thelma and Louise, it being a more apt description of their dynamics, forevermore relentless in their love for trouble and preserving their rebellious nature.
"Psht, of course not," Mary smirked, a diabolical glint in her viridian eyes that had Dean swallow nervously. Resting her head in the crook of the blonde's neck, Ivy continued, "Glad you think so high of us, Dean. Hetty lent it to us. She'll probably have somebody come pick it up later."
That had Dean turning around in the driver's seat to stare incredulously, and with a healthy dose of suspicion, at the girls huddled in the backseat. "Hetty?! I thought you said you were coming from Aunt Deb's."
"And?" they intoned, sporting identical looks of boredom.
"And!" he scoffed, voice dripping in pure disbelief as he shook his head, barely sparing a glance as Sam opened the passenger door and clambered in, blinking at the trio in confusion. "You girls really need to practice on your excuses if you're gonna start lying to me." He was already pissed off over his ignorance regarding the girls' constant visits to Sam and the recent revelation of Steve McGarrett breaking his sister's heart; so right now, his tolerance had reached its lowest point.
Mary rolled her eyes, "You're being dramatic. We were at Aunt Deb's."
"You know Hetty lives in the same area, Dean," Ivy's tone implied Dean was purposely acting dim.
Still, he didn't release them from his glare as he attempted to gauge their honesty. Slowly, he drawled out a remark, "I don't buy it. You're hiding something." The girls kept their poker face on as they held eye contact. "Nothing? You're not even going to deny it?" They stubbornly remained silent, not bothering to agree or disagree. Huffing in irritation, Dean turned around and started the engine. "Women," he muttered to himself.
JERICHO, CALIFORNIA
At first, Dean was under the belief that he was simply being paranoid and Sam agreed wholeheartedly, having reservations about his brother's adamant belief that the girls were acting odd – well, stranger than usual. But that all changed when they made a short pit stop at the gas station to both, fill the Impala with gas and grab a quick breakfast from the convenience mart.
Loaded with coffee and junk food, Dean yelled for a peacefully slumbering Ivy, her form slumped on Mary, to wake up and proffered their favored black coffee. Eyes alight with joy at the mere sight of the rejuvenating drink and her greatest addiction, Ivy's hand flung forward and, cradling the warm styrofoam cup in both hands, she lifted it to drink. However, before the scalding liquid could touch her lips, the blonde emitted a startled yelp and, without warning, she yanked the cup from her grip and hurled it out the window, its content splattering on the tarmac.
"Hey!" Ivy snapped, eyes dark with anger. "I was going to drink that!"
"Annie, what the hell?" Dean sounded more shocked than angry, confused at the blonde's behavior.
Throwing Ivy a pointed glare that had the brothers gawking in bemusement, she took her proffered coffee from the eldest Winchester and chirped, "Thanks, Dean." Imbibing a hearty sip, her eyes closed in bliss and she sighed, "Black. Just how Mama likes it."
Her expression dark with fury, Ivy's glare bored holes into the side of Mary's head as she snidely remarked, "Just like your heart."
"Melodramatic, much?" Mary sighed, looking a mixture of amused and exasperated.
Glowering, Ivy felt her last vestiges of control snap. Lunging over, she struggled with the blonde for the styrofoam cup and, letting out a yell of victory, tossed it out the window to join her murdered beverage with a loud, telltale splatter.
"What the HELL!" Mary shrieked.
Ivy had a smug smirk on her face, "If I can't drink, neither can you. So take. that!"
All the while, Dean and Sam gaped at their unlikely behavior, dumbfounded. Parting his lips, Sam attempted to speak but then clamped his mouth shut to shoot his brother a bewildered 'what the hell is going on' look. Putting the nozzle back on the pump, Dean, after getting in the car, turned to face the fuming girls, both of whom had their arms crossed tightly against their chests and their backs facing each other, "All right, what is the matter with you two?!"
"Nothing!" they snapped, throwing nasty glares at each other before promptly looking away.
Sam let out a soft disbelieving scoff, "You don't actually expect us to buy that, do you? You girls are usually as thick as thieves. Now you're down each other's throats."
But their only response was complete and utter silence and more confusion…
Credence to the girls' bizarre behavior occurred shortly afterwards when they made a short stop at a bridge ahead in Jericho, where it was swarming with police activity. Reaching for the glove compartment, Dean pulled out a box filled to the brim with fake IDs, the brothers, Ivy, Mary and John's pictures visible on them. Grinning, he handed an FBI ID to a displeased Sam then turned to the girls, his smile sunny yet hesitant as though he expected contention, "Hey, uh, how about you two sit this one out…? Four federal agents in one scene would probably raise some alarms."
"Sure," Mary shrugged.
Looking out the window, Ivy muttered, "Whatever."
"Wait… that's it? You're not gonna fight me on this?" an incredibly taken aback Dean inquired, his gaze connecting with Sam's, his stupefied expression mirroring his.
Ivy glared in response and Dean quickly raised his hands in a sign of peace as he got out of the car. "O-kayy. Moving on then. We won't be long and-" Dean shoved his head into the open window in afterthought, "don't burn down my Baby."
Confidently approaching the bloodied car the police officers had surrounded, Sam grimaced, offering his brother an acknowledging nod, "Okay. You were right. Something's definitely not right with Ivy and Annie."
"I'm telling ya, Sammy. They're hiding something, and I'm not gonna rest till I get them to spill their guts."
Absolutely filthy, covered in muck and mud and dripping with water from having dived alongside Dean over the railing to escape getting totaled by the possessed Impala, the split-second Sam picked the lock of John's abandoned motel room, Ivy barged inside, stepping over a line of salt in the process, and blew out a breath of relief, more than eager for a warm shower and a change of clothes. However, she stopped short at the complete mess before her, all the while, ignoring the bright-green glare she could feel boring into her back like a red dot sight.
"Whoa," Sam breathed out, clearly of the same opinion as Ivy.
Every single vertical surface had maps, newspaper clippings, pictures and notes pinned to them, and every horizontal surface, including the bed and the floor, were littered with an assortment of junk, books and something of a hazardous-looking material that had Mary warily edging to Ivy's side, prompting the brunette to roll her eyes at her lack of subtlety and irritating mother-hen behavior that was slowly exceeding touching and landing on suffocating. Stepping past them, Dean turned on the light by the bed, the collected attention shining on a half-eaten, moldy-looking burger. Picking it up, Dean sniffed and automatically recoiled; but instead of tossing it into the trash, he returned it to its original place.
Nauseated by the sight, Ivy clapped both hands to her mouth, fighting back the urge to hurl. "Dean, that's-that's disgusting. Throw it out-"
Doe eyes widening, Ivy slammed into Sam's shoulder, who had started to approach his twin in concern, and ran towards the bathroom. In her rush, she didn't take the time to close the door behind her, prompting her violent retching to echo disturbingly in the cramped motel room.
Dean blinked, confused, and with his thumb and index finger, tossed the offending burger into the trash. Meeting Mary's disapproving gaze, he shrugged defensively. "What? Ivy's seen worse than a mildewy, half-eaten burger. How'm I supposed to know she'd suddenly get affected by it. I'm not psychic," he chuckled, Sam shifting uncomfortably going unnoticed.
"Still," Mary huffed, turning to join Ivy. "That's just nasty, Dean. Next time, toss it out."
"Women," he repeated himself, sharing an eye roll with Sam as they focused their undivided attention into deducing the mysterious ghost they encountered by the bridge, his zeal reinforced the second the bitch decided to possess his Baby.
However, not much needed to be done on their part as John Winchester already solved the case. It was a Woman in White. Unfortunately, it appeared that their father skipped town before ganking her, a very uncharacteristic attribute that prompted their worriment to skyrocket. Leaving Sam to trade ideas with Mary and a freshly showered Ivy who still didn't look herself, Dean disappeared to the bathroom for a shower.
"You don't look so good, Ives," Dean remarked fifteen minutes later as he stepped out of the bathroom fully clothed, towel drying his hair. His sharp gaze assessed his sister, her arms hugging her stomach as she lied on the bed in a fetal position looking worse for wear. Smiling serenely, Mary patted Ivy on the arm and addressed him, "I think it's food poisoning. We kinda indulged in sushi before leaving LA for Stanford."
Sam emitted an impressed sound, his concern fading as he bought the spoon-fed excuse. Dean grimaced and wrinkled his nose, eyes flickering between both girls in disbelief, "Eugh! The only raw kind of food you'd ever see me eat, is a nice, fat juicy steak, rare." He chuckled and donned his leather jacket, "Speaking of food, I'm gonna grab a little something to eat from the diner down the street. Who's in? Aframian's buying." He smirked, waving the MasterCard in the air.
Beaming, Mary exuberantly jumped off the bed and joined his side, "Ooh, count me in."
Unfortunately, bad luck struck the second they stepped foot in the parking lot.
"Problem, officers?" Dean flashed the two officers his most arrogant smile, keeping the attention fixated on him and therefore, away from Mary so she could sneakily call Ivy's cellphone and give them a head's up. Officer Jaffe ignored his attempt to waylay him, demanding for Sam's whereabouts, prompting Dean to play dumb, his smile never waning, "Partner? What partner?"
The other officer, Officer Hein, snuck up from behind and slammed Dean over the hood of the police car, handcuffs at the ready. Stepping in with fluid grace and her most innocent smile, Mary extended both arms out in a grand gesture, "What seems to the problem, officers?"
"And you are…?" Jaffe quirked an eyebrow at her, and the two Hunters didn't fail to notice how his eyes lingered on her generous rack, Dean's glare aptly suitable for the phrase: If looks could kill.
Despite her winsome smile and her beach girl appearance, Mary exuded a no nonsense attitude; she didn't take too well to anybody harming her family. "Detective Bonasera," she crisply retorted.
Hein scoffed and without warning, he pulled out another pair of handcuffs and proceeded to harshly cuff her. "So. Another Fake US Marshal. You get anything that's real?" he scathingly commented.
Cheekily, Mary Ann grinned, "My boobs."
"You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney. If you cannot afford one, one will be appointed to you by –"
VAN DYNE MANSION
O'AHU, HAWAII
Ankles crossed and propped on the opulent African Blackwood desk in his ostentatious and richly furnished Study, a handsome and sophisticated-looking man in his early fifties, with a tanned complexion, dark, wavy hair that had a naturally tousled appearance, a neatly trimmed royale beard and piercing sapphire eyes sat lounged on a chair, his posture the perfect picture of casual elegance.
The handset cordless phone of his landline sat perched between his ear and left shoulder, his expression somber as the person on the other end summarized recent events.
"Uncle Roy? You still there? …Say something."
Emitting a long-drawn-out sigh, he acquiesced, "What can I say? I'm glad I didn't have to bail you out this time, Mary Ann…?"
A masculine, noncommittal sound echoed from the other end and despite his current mood and the terrible tragedy that recently occurred in Hawaii, Royal failed to repress the fond smile from spreading on his lips as he overheard Mary and his godson banter in the confined space of what he correctly deduced to be a phone booth.
"Dean. Dean!" Royal called out. "One at a time, alright. One at a time. So, you have a Woman in White and John skipped town before getting rid of it. That doesn't sound like him," he frowned, wincing internally at his choice of words as he belatedly realized how it would sound to his distressed godson.
A mirthless chuckle came from Dean, "You don't need to tell us twice. We all kind of came to the same conclusion. Anyways, got arrested for imitating an officer. Whatever."
"And credit card fraud," Mary pointedly added.
Royal shook his head and cut in before another quarrel broke out, "Just salt and burn the Woman in White and get out of town. And Dean? There's a reason I sent the four of you authentic credit cards. Use 'em. I don't give a rat's ass about what scruples you might have. We're family, and family takes care of one another. Next time you're arrested for credit card fraud, if you don't bail yourself out, I won't do it for you, you hear me?!"
Grumbling, Dean acquiesced, an bashful hint detected in his voice, "Yes, Uncle Roy."
Honestly, Royal blamed John Winchester for his children's incapability to accept aid when offered. Well… excluding Ivy, but only because Royal conditioned her to accept help from family from a young age and his goddaughter hated refusing him anything.
"Good boy. Now-" dismissing Dean, he focused his attention back on Mary, "-Ann, your brother's been callin' you. Why haven't you answered?" Royal demanded.
Mary emitted a vitriolic hiss and he could hear Dean curse colorfully in the background. "One, I left my cellphone on charge in the motel room. So it's not on me right now. And two, the only thing I have to say to Steve is to go to Hell!"
"He's still your brother, Mary Ann McGarrett!" her full name sharp on his tongue as he narrowed his eyes into slits. "I, too, hate what he did to Ivy, and I'll be having more than a few words with him next I see him. But despite what he's done, it doesn't change the fact that he's your brother, family, and I doubt Ivy would encourage your treatment of him despite her current feelings regarding him." Sensing Mary about to argue further with him, he interjected, "I don't want to hear it. Once you're done with this case, you call 'im back. He has something important to say to you that cannot be left on voicemail."
"FINE!" she bellowed from the other end, and Royal instantly knew her incoming conversation with Steve's gonna be a real ugly one.
Hanging up on them, Royal swiftly swung his legs off the desk and planted them firmly onto the ground before he buried his face into his palms. Rubbing his forehead, intense sapphires connected with two separate picture frames perched on his desk, one of him and John McGarrett and the other of him and his childhood friend, John Winchester. It must be a John thing, he mentally mused, to alienate their children and make terrible decisions when it came to raising them. McGarrett sent his children away and kept them separated, tarnishing their sibling bond at a young and fragile age, especially in Mary's regard; on the other hand, Winchester took his children alongside him as he delved deeper into the supernatural world, and once a Hunter, always a Hunter… it was a permanent lifestyle, despite the few that preferred to believe otherwise.
And now?
A few days back, John Winchester up and vanished without bothering to leave a trace behind. The Jericho business was simply John's way of wordlessly ordering his children to clean up his mess as he obviously had more important things to do than tussle with a vengeful spirit. Today morning, John McGarrett was murdered in his own house, his son forced to listen in on his final moments along with the gun that claimed his life go off all the way from Pohang, South Korea.
And Royal?
He was left to pick up the pieces both John's left behind: Their children.
PALO ALTO, CALIFORNIA
Sometimes, one statement was all it took to flip the world off its axis. One small change could make a monumental difference and change your life as you know it.
It appeared to be a normal, calm, breezy night, one that would evolve into morning, undisturbed. Dean had his eyes peeled on the road, his hand fidgeting with the radio; in the back, Mary had stretched herself on her back, her cellphone in hand vibrating nonstop and her expression clear that she was debating on whether or not she should leave it and let it go unanswered for the umpteenth time. In the passenger seat, Ivy no longer looked nauseous, but serene with her shoes off and her legs tucked underneath her as she ebulliently munched on Twinkies.
She missed Sam already. Truth be told, Ivy put up a convincing front, but like Dean, she had also gotten her hopes up that maybe, he would join them on the search for Dad. The four of them: Dean, Sam, Ivy and Mary hitting the road together and just letting loose. But then again, Ivy always liked to look at both sides of a coin and she understood where Sam was coming from. If she and Steve were still together, still going strong, Ivy wasn't sure she'd be all gung-ho in regards to opening Steve's eyes to the things that go bump in the night, irregardless of Mary's awareness. Therefore, she, unlike Dean, couldn't fault Sam for his preference in keeping Jessica blissfully ignorant to the world's darkest secret.
Tilting her head to lean against the window, chocolate brown eyes narrowed in on Dean's watch and she sucked in a sharp intake of breath. "Dean!" she urgently exclaimed, prompting him and Mary to abruptly meet her gaze in concern. "Your watch, Dean. It's-it's not ticking."
That statement, that…observation, changed everything…
Swearing loudly, Dean abruptly swerved the Impala around.
Not long after, they stood congregated in front of the apartment building, a heavy-hearted Sam by their side, his large mournful eyes on the dying embers of what used to be his and Jessica's home. Firemen and police officers attempted to keep back the gaggle of shameless gawkers from trespassing and despite the grave situation, Mary still had it in her to berate Ivy for her downright foolish actions.
Amid her tears and fruitless attempts to console her twin, Mary stalked over, grasped her by the wrist and forcibly pulled her aside and away from curious ears, leaving Dean to take over and provide Sam with much needed comfort. Huffing when they were a good distance away, Ivy wrenched herself from Mary's vice grip and crossed her arms tightly against her chest. "What?" she hissed.
"What? WHAT? You tell me what!" Mary retorted, her words barely intelligible as she ground them out through tightly clenched teeth. The brunette rolled her eyes, stubbornly maintaining her silence. "I'd really like to know, Ivy, what the hell is going on through that thick skull of yours? What is wrong with you, are you completely incapable of looking out for yourself! We had an agreement, and if you don't start taking care of yourself, I'm telling Dean and Sam. Now!"
Fear and doubt warred in Ivy's expressive eyes. "You wouldn't," she scoffed, calling her bluff.
"You leave me with no choice, Ivy!" Mary snapped back, her husky voice resembling a muted scream. Letting out an irritated growl, the blonde slid both hands into her hair, fisted a clump of hair and tugged in pure frustration. "You nearly got totaled by the Impala. Then, Constance attacked you and the safest route out was to have Sam drive the car through a freaking house! And, and, what the hell was that tonight?! You ran headfirst into a burning apartment, abandoning all sense of reason and self-preservation and you got burned. I saw it, Ivy. I know I did. Your hand got caught in the fire and don't ask me how it didn't leave a mark, but I know what I saw. Just please. Please, for the love of all that is Holy, what the ever-loving fuck were you thinking?!"
A strangled yell was ejected from Ivy's lips as she twisted around on the spot and angrily met her best friend's viridian glare. "It's what I– we, do, Annie! We're Hunters, we are of the self-sacrificing sort and you know that! If there's a chance of saving lives, we don't think, we just do. I can't just stop being myself. I don't care WHAT, I'm not…nobody can force me to stop being a Hunter. I'd rather die, do you get that?!"
"It's not permanent, Ives. I'm not asking you to quit. I'd never ask that of you. Fuck, it'd be totally hypocritical of me. My Dad, he-" Mary furiously scrubbed her eyes at the mention of her father; John McGarrett was an unspoken subject, almost taboo. "He tried his very best to keep us apart, Ivy. And I fought him. Every step of the way, I fought him. So no, I'm not telling you to quit hunting. I'm just asking, no, begging you to slow down, to start thinking before you go charging in, guns blazing. What did you hope to achieve tonight? Sam couldn't save Jess, what made you think differently, was it arrogance? Or, or was it a suicide attempt?" Ivy threw her a harsh, disbelieving glare. Mollifying her, the blonde raised both hands, "I'm trying to understand here, Ivy. So help me understand. Because I thought I knew you like the back of my hand, and you're starting to scare me. And you know I don't get spooked easily."
Silence met the end of Mary's heartfelt speech and, for a brief moment, the blonde got the impression that her desperate inquiry would remain unanswered. Then, Ivy parted her lips and spoke, her words coated with tears and misery and her doe eyes bright with unshed tears, brimming with untold emotions. "Ever since I was old enough to understand that my Mom's dead and I'd never see her again, I've always wondered how she died. You know…? Was it painless, did she see it coming? Then I was mature enough to be given the ugly details of how she died and that, my whole life, the lifestyle Dad chose for us, it was all a vendetta to find and kill the son of a bitch who robbed me of a mother. And until tonight…Annie, my imagination, the scenarios I conjured, they're nothing compared to the real thing. Like Jess, Mom was burned alive. It wasn't a painless death. I was just a baby. Sam and I, we-we were just vulnerable babies, unable to lift a finger and help. But with Jess, I was overcome with hope. Hope that maybe now, what with me being an experienced Hunter, perhaps I could do something. Anything! But, even with all the experience under my belt, I'm still a failure. Useless."
"You're not useless, or a failure. You're anything but."
Wordlessly, Mary pulled her into a tight embrace and together, the two girls cried for their fallen friend. As her tears began to subside, Mary felt Ivy sag in her embrace, having cried herself to near sleep. Carefully, she led the brunette to the Impala and softly arranged her in a sleeping position in the backseat, letting her sleep off the excitement of the day. Turning around, Mary automatically stumbled back before she could collide into Dean and Sam, both of whom alternated their concerned and, in Dean's case, suspicious, stares from the slumbering Ivy to Mary.
"You ready to clue us in yet?" Dean gruffly demanded, not even a tiny hint of a smile visible in his expression or his tone. Mary offered the overprotective brothers a tight-lipped smile and chose to rub Sam's arm soothingly, silently offering her condolences and support, the dried tears littered all over her face a testimony to the fact that like Sam, she too would miss Jessica and was devastated over her death. Sam, with his infallible ability to read Mary and Ivy like a book, spoke up, his voice hoarse, "I'd rather not think about Jess, right now. I just, I want to know what's going on with my sister. She hasn't been herself and you've been acting extremely odd."
Infusing levity, Mary grinned, "Eccentricity is like, my thing, Sammy. You know that."
"Mary Ann!" Dean utilized her full name, a warning to the severity of the matter – a huge indication when Dean chooses 'chick-flick moments' over comic relief.
Capturing her lower lip between her teeth, viridian eyes flickered between the brothers, visibly conflicted.
"You guys are overreacting!" Ivy groaned from her kneeling position on the cool bathroom tiles, her cheek flushed against the toilet seat as she rested her pounding head. Beside her, Mary looked the epitome of concerned, choosing to keep her hands busy by carding her fingers through her golden-brown curls. Shaking her head, the blonde sarcastically quipped, "How silly of us. It's completely normal to puke your spleen out! Do forgive us."
She would never admit it, but the simple act of rolling her eyes – a favorite habit, and Ivy's signature gesture that really should be patented by her – hurt like hell, like her eyeballs were super-glued to their sockets or something, which was ridiculous, right?
"Annieee," she whined. "You're making a big deal out of nothing. I don't need to see a doctor. I just need sleep, 'kay? Breakfast didn't agree with my stomach, that's all. Case closed. Moving on. The end!"
From the other side of the locked door – Mary, with her quick reflexes and agility, managed to push through before Ivy slammed the door in her face and locked her out as well – Aunt Deb called out, "And usually, I would agree, Button. But unfortunately, you've barely been able to keep any sort of proper nourishment down for over a week. Don't think I haven't noticed the amount of time you've woken up in the middle of the night to empty the contents of your stomach."
Ivy wrinkled her nose, "Ugh! Do you have to use such…clinical terms, Aunt Deb? It's kinda freaky. Makes me feel like a lab rat."
"Don't change the subject, young lady!" a new voice, a distinctive rough voice, cut through Ivy's attempt to downplay her symptoms, and as always, her arrival generated complete and utter stillness. Ivy and Mary exchanged a wide-eyed and open-mouthed look, obedience naturally coming over them at the intimidating woman's presence. There was a scratching against the lock and shortly after, the door opened, revealing a smiling Aunt Deb, who looked much too smug, almost like the cat that caught the canary, and the formidable woman with the big-eyed glasses and an extremely short stature. Her eyes, magnified due to her glasses, narrowed in on Ivy's pallid face and her lips pursed so thinly, they were nearly nonexistent. "You look like utter shit," blunt and to the point as expected.
The brunette choked out a laugh, "You really know how to brighten up my day, Hetty."
"Don't be smart with me. I'm not here to coddle you. I'm here because you need a doctor. And if I have to drag you there by your hair, so be it. Now, up you get," the dare to refuse her was palpable in Hetty's expression and, defeated, Ivy tossed the smug Aunt Deb a dirty look. "But I'm fiinee," the brunette whined, though she still rearranged herself into a standing position.
Disobeying Henrietta Lange was pure suicide.
Hetty looked unconvinced, "Humor us."
An hour later, Ivy, surrounded by her best friend and her two old and quirky, adopted aunts, sat on the hospital bed, staring at the doctor with her mouth agape, his words not sinking in. "Say that again…" she whispered in disbelief.
The doctor beamed at her, "You're pregnant. Two months in, actually. Frankly, I'm astounded you didn't suspect anything when you first missed your premenstrual cycle." Ivy blinked at him; of course she realized when the date of her period came and went, but she simply chalked it down to stress, especially after her breakup with Steve. She was depressed and crying nonstop and then she experienced the nausea, she didn't think much of it. In retrospect, she should have suspected when the first month passed.
And then, the Doc said, "Congratulations." And she flipped her shit.
"Congratulations!?" she shrieked, hysterical. "This is not good news. Not even close. I can't, I can't be a mother. How'm I supposed to know how to be a mother when I never even had one! No, no this is a mistake. Check it again. I'll pee on a thousand sticks if I have to." She pinned Hetty with a beseeching gaze, "Find me another doctor. I refuse to believe I'm pregnant. No. No fucking way!"
With her ninja moves, Hetty subtly ushered the bewildered and slightly intimidated doctor out of the room to give the four women privacy. Speechless, Mary simply gripped Ivy's hand while Aunt Deb stroked her brown curls, her expression sympathetic. Hetty went for tough love, not bothering with the sentimental crap, "Suck it up, Ivy. You're pregnant, you're pregnant. Accept it. You're not alone. You have us and your brothers, your father and Royal-"
"Oh my God! Dad will kill me," Ivy groaned before she broke into giant sobs. "Steve, I, I can't do this without Steve. I don't want this. I don't want to be pregnant. I, I'm a Hunter. I can't stop hunting… I can't hide this. I-"
Clearing her throat, Mary kept her tone neutral, "There's always abortion-"
Glaring at the blonde with fire in her eyes, Ivy snarled, "I'm gonna pretend you didn't just say that. I save lives, not end them. Especially not-" unconsciously, she reached out with a hand to stroke her still toned stomach, "-not my own flesh and blood."
Deb and Hetty deftly masked their pride, Ivy's violent reaction proof that she already decided to keep her baby.
"Annie? Ann?" Dean's stern expression softened in his attempt to snap Mary out of her daze, concerned lines crowding on his forehead. Sam gently shook her shoulder and a pair of viridian orbs refocused onto the brothers. Turning her head to look at Ivy's peaceful form, Mary whispered, "Nothing. Nothing's wrong."
Grudgingly, Dean and Sam admitted defeat, realizing they won't be getting anything out of the stubborn blonde. Ever since childhood, those two girls had always been as thick as thieves and nothing short of a miracle would get either one of them to fess up without the other's express permission.
Getting into the Impala, Dean drove towards the nearest motel, all of them in desperate need of sleep.
CAST:
Ivy Winchester – Nina Dobrev
Dean Winchester – Jensen Ackles
Sam Winchester – Jared Padalecki
Mary Ann McGarrett – Taryn Manning
Royal Van Dyne – Charles Mesure
Debora McGarrett – Carol Burnett
Hetty Lange – Linda Hunt
A/N: I had so much fun writing this chapter! Especially the dynamics between the Winchesters and Mary! XD
(1) In this story, I won't be adding every single detail that happens in every episode from Canon, and also, some episodes will either be skipped or summarized. This story isn't a copy-paste type with a few changes. No. I'm trying for a new perspective here as you can see. So I hope you enjoyed it! (2) Also, as you've noticed, the Winchesters here are completely different than Canon. Here, in my story, they actually have adults to lean back on and ask for help. They have a rich godfather in Hawaii, they are family with Hetty and Deb…all this comes to play and changes a lot from SPN Universe. The background of how they know all these important people will be self-explanatory as the story continues. (3) Lastly, Steve McGarrett! I know, I know. Many of you are probably disappointed he didn't make an appearance. Tell me about it, so am I. But I couldn't squeeze him into this chapter. However, next chapter we'll have A LOT of Steve goodness! ;)
P.S.: Ivy's pregnant!? What? …Did anyone expect that? I aim to surprise my amazing fans, so… XD ;)
R&R.
