I started to come to what seemed like a lifetime later. My throat was raw, my stomach torn to shreds from the inside, my body shaking with effort as I pushed myself into a sitting position.
"Cade," I whispered, scanning the area for him. It was then that I realized we weren't a mile outside of Tulsa or in the car. We were in a house, one both familiar and strange. I swung my legs over the side of the bed and groaned, my body screaming at me to go back to sleep.
"Easy Tiger," a voice came. I turned to see Dean standing in the doorway, his arms crossed across his chest.
"Dean," I whispered. I felt a sense of relief wash over me. Cade must have called Dean. Jeez, we always called Dean when things got hairy. It made me remember something our mother said over 7 years ago, when we saw her for the last time.
"You have family out there, somewhere. Not all of them are actually related to you, but they'll come, no matter how many miles away they are. John came when your dad was killed. He came and saved you and Cadey. You have to remember, you have family looking out for you." she said "You'll find, in your darkest moment, your family will be there at your side."
"H-hand me my mom's journal," I said softly, forcing myself to stay upright. I looked around and saw Cade sleeping soundly on the bed across from me. Dean walked in carefully, soundlessly, and helped me stand, his strong arms carefully supporting my body. He nodded towards the door, which I eyed with disgust. I didn't have the heart to leave my brother, but I knew if I woke him, I'd feel even worse. So giving into my better judgment, I allowed Dean to lead me from the room.
He sat me down at the table, a wary Bobby throwing me a look.
"So what happened?" his husky voice asked.
"That's why I want to find out," I sighed, my throat burning. "My mom's journal?" I asked Dean again. He went into the livingroom and returned a moment later carrying my tattered old bag. He handed it to me and waited while I pulled a ripped, ragged leather bound journal from the bag. Flipping through the pages I knew by heart, I settled on the entry I wanted to read first.
May 27th, 1996
John saved my children today. I don't know how he found them, or how he knew they needed his help, but he found them and saved them. Ryan's dead. The thing got him. We don't even know what it is. It almost hurt my little Cadey. I would have killed the thing myself had I been there. What I don't understand, is how Harley didn't try and stop it. She had one job. One freaking job. Watch your brother. And she nearly got the kid killed. Her excuse? 'I had to let the dog out, mommy,'
Anyway, today I realized how lucky I am to have a friend like John. His boys will become family to the kids, I have no doubt in my mind. His oldest, the quiet, obedient one, he was there to comfort Hars, I can't begin to appreciate that enough. Those kids are going to need them one day. I just hope they follow in their father's footsteps and come to their aid in their time of need.
Heaven help me, I will find your killer, Ryan, I swear on everything, I will.
~ ND
The year of the entry was scratched out, probably because my mother hated remembering the day dad died. I was only about 7. Caden barely 3.
I wracked my brain, trying to remember who had been there. I remember being scared to death, hating myself for letting Caden out of my sight, even for those mere minutes. It took me a moment, but when my eyes met his, I remembered.
"Dean! Get the kids outside, now!" a man shouted, motioning to his son. The boy grabbed me by my arms and pulled me outside, my baby brother twisting, screaming bloody murder in his arms. Caden, always ready to bite a stranger who ever dared grab him, latched onto Dean's arm with savage eyes.
"Oh my god," I whispered. I looked up once more, tears in my eyes. "You were there."
"I was where?" Dean asked skeptically, probably chucking the whole thing up to my imagination.
"May 27th, 1996," I whispered. "Your father saved my brother and me." I pushed the open journal over to him, my head swimming with the information.
"I'll be damned," Dean said with a shake of his head. "No wonder it's always 'Screw the case, they need us' when you call."
"Shut up," I retorted. I pushed myself up from the chair and staggered towards the room, my eyes locking on Caden's pale, thin appearance. "How long have we been out?" I asked, trying to remember the last thing that happened before I blacked out.
"Four days," Bobby said from behind me. I shook my head.
"When was the last time he puked?" I asked, nodding towards the bucket at the side of the bed.
"Two hours or so," Bobby said, standing up to join me at the doorway.
"And we have no idea what the black smoke was?" I asked, turning to him with hopeful eyes.
"Black smoke?" Dean asked, taking me by the arm, steering me away from the room once more.
"There was a cloud of black smoke. We were what, a mile or so outta Tulsa, when it hit us. I can't explain it. It was like the worst flu ever, combined with major bad vibes," I attempted to explain. "So much for that Shifter," I added, throwing a look in Bobby's direction.
"Hars," the sound sent chills up my spine. Ignoring the dizziness and the pain shooting through my stomach, I pulled away from Dean and stumbled to my brother's side. His lips were a sickly bluish shade, his skin as white as snow.
"I'm here, Cadey, I'm right here," I whispered, using mom's nickname for him. "I'm right here,"
"Hars," he choked again, his lips barely moving. "It hurts,"
"What hurts? C'mon, Cade, what hurts?" I asked, fear rippling through my entire body.
"Y-you can't see it?" Cade asked, his voice so weak, so frail.
"See what?" I looked at Dean for help. Dean stood behind me, a reassuring hand on my shoulder, his eyes showing the same bewilderment I felt.
"Cade?" I asked again, to no response from my brother. Cursing, I stood up too fast, sending myself into a breathless, panicked state.
"Whoa, chill," Dean said softly, his arms once more keeping me from falling flat on my face.
"Where's Sam's laptop?" I asked. My own had been shattered during a raid a month earlier.
"Sam's laptop is busy," I heard another familiar voice chime. I turned quickly, too quickly, my head taking a moment to catch up with my body.
"Aw, c'mon, Sam, let me use it for a second," I grumbled. He sighed and waved me over. With Dean's help, I made it to the cluttered table without falling – yet.
I typed in a phrase that worked several times before when searching for strange forces. Demonic encounters. My vision blurred as I tried to read the first link that came up.
"Urgh," I groaned, letting my head rest on my arms as I kept my eyes on the screen. Suddenly, my stomach gave a violent start, and if Dean hadn't been hovering so close, Sam's laptop would have been a fried mess.
"No more research for you," Dean chuckled, leading me away from the computer. I didn't protest, as I felt worse now than I did when I first came around. I allowed him to push me down on the bed before swatting his hands away. The overly protective brother act was slightly annoying, as that was my role with Cade.
"Hars?" Cade called once more. I looked over at him and saw him struggling to sit up. Groaning, I got up, my body, and Dean, protesting the entire time. I went and sat on the edge of Caden's bed, my hands shaking as I brushed his matted, shaggy hair from his eyes.
"Hey, baby brother," I said softly, pleased to see his clear blue eyes finally looking up at me.
"Did we get bad food again?" he moaned. His face was still pale, sweaty and warm to the touch.
"I wish," I forced a laugh. "But no. What do you remember?" I asked, my stomach still doing flips. Thankfully, my overly concerned maternal instincts allowed me to ignore my own discomfort.
"Nothing, absolutely nothing," Cade sighed. His face contorted with disgust as he groaned once more, his hands clutching at his stomach. I handed him the bucket and stepped away from the bed as he silently released what little was in his stomach.
"I feel like shit," Cade moaned. I smiled at his simple, childlike complaint. It reminded me of the countless, sleepless nights spent nursing my baby brother back to health after one sickness or another. He wasn't prone to getting sick, but when he did, it hit him hard.
"I know," I sighed. "I do too," I added, then regretted it. He looked up at me with shame filled eyes, regret written across his face. "But I'm up and about," I amended quickly, letting the smile reach my eyes this time. I felt uneasy, but knew for my brother's sake, I had to push past it, overcome whatever the hell it was.
"Demonic Plague?" I heard Sam suggest. Cade groaned and lost it again, but I was more curious about what Sam might have uncovered than my brother's current state. I walked into the livingroom and hovered behind Sam, forcing my eyes to focus on the text before me.
"You said you saw a black cloud of smoke, right?" he asked, turning to look at me, his nose wrinkling. I realized I wreaked of vomit and various other smells. Swallowing slowly, I nodded.
"It was almost like a freaking demon attack," I added, remembering how it always looked when a demon was exorcised. "Like a whole bunch were released in one place," I added to clarify.
Suddenly, my vision failed me. Or at least, I'll tell myself it did. I heard the vicious growl, one familiar and strange. It brought me back to the night our father died...
"Now, Cadey, Mommy said not to leave you, but Hunter needs to go potty, and mommy'll be mad if he pees on the floor again. So I'm going to go let him out okay? Daddy's not far from home by now..." I said, my tiny hands smoothing the thick hair on his head. He giggled under my touch, his eyes showing how sleepy he was. "Go to sleep."
I padded into the kitchen, my sock covered feet cold against the cool tile. Hunter, our jet black collie mix whined, his fur standing on edge. I opened the back door and shooed him outside.
That was when the barking started. Loud, vicious and deadly. I jumped back, slamming the door quickly, remembering what mommy had said about demon dogs. I was sure it was just a neighborhood dog out looking for food. Strays always came around.
But when the door started to shake, heavy paws pounding against them, I knew I had been wrong.
The innocent wails of my baby brother shook me from my thoughts, calling me to his room. I ran in and screamed, the ghostly black smoke covering my brother's bed.
"Get away from him!" I wailed.
"Harley?" Sam asked cautiously, pulling me from my memories, but not stopping the hellish barking I heard.
"You don't hear it," I whispered, feeling my eyes widen, though I saw nothing. One moment, I saw nothing but darkness, the next, I saw the black fur, the hellish canine glaring at me, it's eyes blood red, hungry. "Caden!" I screamed suddenly, panic filling my heart. I pulled away from the boys, my feet leading me directly to the bed my brother had been laying on a moment before. In his spot, was a messy blanket, but no Caden. "Not again," I whispered, the barking suddenly stopping, my vision returning to normal. My legs gave way, my knees slamming into the floor with enough force to shatter the bones.
"Harley, Harley!" the urgent tone forced my eyes to open. I gasped, then gagged, choking on my own phlegm. Guided by careful hands, I found myself sitting up, coughing bitterly, my chest burning with effort.
"Breathe," the voice commanded. Without a second thought, I forced myself to take several deep, greatly needed breaths. I blinked a few times to clear my eyes then looked up at the face before me. Hands still wrapped protectively around me, Dean looked at me with worried eyes.
"Where am I?" I asked, momentarily stuck in between a dream and reality.
"Bobby's," Dean said, his voice cracking slightly, just barely, but enough to let me know I had just given him a pretty good scare. "Cade's right over there," he answered my silent question, motioning to my brother, who was laying motionlessly.
Without a word, I carefully swung my legs over the side of the bed, using Dean's broad shoulders for support. He sat motionlessly, allowing me to lean heavily against him for a moment, before pushing away, stumbling to my brother's side, my entire body shaking with violent chills. I collapsed on the edge of the bed, my hands tightly gripping the blanket that covered him.
"What was the last thing that I was awake for?" I asked, turning ever so slightly, so I could focus on Dean's expression. I didn't notice Sam observing from the doorway until he cleared his throat.
"You were about to fry my laptop. Then you just sort of collapsed in Dean's arms," he said, shaking his head, his long hair flopping over his eyes. "I've never seen someone drop that fast before," he added.
I found myself stumbling over words, trying to comprehend what he was telling me.
"So Caden hasn't woken up yet?" I asked, starting at the beginning of what I remembered.
"No," Dean said, making his way over to me, clearly startled by my inability to remember.
"And Sam didn't get my attention by saying we have a demonic plague?"
"No?" Sam asked, eyes widening, like he wished he'd actually thought of that.
"Then no Hellhound and Caden's here, so no suddenly disappearance," I whispered, still trying to piece it all together.
"What are you talking about?" Dean asked, his eyes widening. I knew exactly what he was thinking. I looked at my frail, breakable, sleeping brother, tears in my eyes.
I pushed myself from the bed, unstable and weak, but capable, and stumbled towards the doorway. To my relief, Sam's hands were waiting to steady me, his own expression one of concern. I groaned and let him hold me up for a moment, before putting my own discomfort aside to focus on the matter at hand. Sucking in a deep breath, I did all I could to walk a straight line into the kitchen, where, just as I had left it, my mother's journal was laying, face down on the table. I picked it up and flipped through the pages, finding the entry before the day our father died. I read it silently, before letting a single tear fall from my eyes.
"What'd you find?" Bobby asked, skipping the normal questions, as always, getting straight to the point.
"The night before my father died, my mom had a nightmare, one of the rare ones, that she could actually vividly remember when she woke up. It was about a Hellhound," I said with a sob building in my chest. "Exactly 24 hours later, my father died in place of Caden."
"Did you see a Hellhound?" Dean demanded, having followed me into the kitchen. Sam, close behind.
"I can still smell the fucking canine," I moaned. I slammed the journal down on the table and looked at the clock. I had 24 hours to save my baby brother. This time, without John Winchester to swoop in and save the day.
I began to pace, even though my stomach begged me to the stop. I ignored the pain, dizziness and just generally sick feeling that had washed over me, and just concentrated on concentrating. I thought back to everything my mother had taught me, everything that she ever told me that could come to use. Then a faint thought crossed my mind. Call your mother, you idiot. "She might be dead," I said aloud. No one bothered to question my statement, all three knowing I was lost in my own thoughts. They all knew me well enough to know that when I was in a mood, it was best just to let me wear myself out, no matter how long it may take.
To my own surprise, though expected by the three pairs of watching eyes, my legs gave way sooner than I expected. I stumbled once, recovered, but collapsed a moment later, my heart pounding as if I had ran a marathon. A few curses later, I settled to sitting on the floor, legs crossed, my fingers tapping on the floor rhythmically. Until Dean finally got annoyed and snapped me from my almost motionless thoughts.
"Damnit, Harley, you're creeping me out!" he exclaimed, causing me to jump, as he was the first sound to break the silence in over three hours.
"Sorry," I muttered. I looked up and forced a smile, my body screaming at me to stop whatever I had been trying to do. I stood slowly, barely making it to my knees before a wave of nausea washed over me. I groaned and stayed extremely still, forcing my body to listen to my mental commands. Once my stomach stopped turning, I stood and leaned heavily on the table, Bobby's eyes locking on mine. Years of looking after my brother and I had made him almost a father to us. We never really doubted his warnings, and when he told us it was time to call it a night and get some sleep, we would do so, no questions asked. It was him who gave me the burst of strength I needed to call my mother's cell phone.
I walked into the livingroom for an ounce of privacy, despite feeling Dean's ever watchful eyes glued to my back. I dialed her number and prayed to hear her voice on the other end. Instead, as usual, I got her voicemail. Only this time, the message was different.
"It's Nikki, I can't answer my phone right now. If it's an emergency, call my daughter Harley, she can help..." my main number was then listed, followed by another message. "If my daughter is dead, call Dean Winchester. He can help..." and his current number was listed. I hung up, momentarily weak in the knees. I sat down on the couch and thought for a moment, trying to decide whether I was glad she thought high enough of me to recommend me to her 'clients' or angry that she assumed I was dead. I was surprised she listed Dean's number and not John's. The last time we spoke, even though it was 7 years ago, she always vowed to never expose the boys' numbers.
"You okay?" Dean's worried voice cut through my internal debate. I waved to show him I heard, but didn't give him the yes he had hoped for. Instead, I stood up and paced the room for a moment, before dialing my mother's number again.
At the tone, I sighed and said "Mom, it's Harley. First off, I'm alive, thank you very much for your concern," in a sarcastic tone. "But I don't know for how long. Something's happening. The dog...I saw it too. And Cadey's really sick. Really, really sick," I felt my throat tightening at the very thought of losing my baby brother. "I'm with Dean. And Sam. At Bobby's. Please, call me when you get this." I hung up, then cursed myself for forgetting the purpose behind the call. Calling once more, I left another message.
"Oh, and Mom? If you don't call me back, and something happens to Cade, I'll never forgive you, okay? Because this is bullshit. You promised to find us, and come to our aid, in the worst of cases. It's pretty sucky that I have to basically become another thing for Dean to worry himself with. You know. He's been there for us more than you have these last few years. Wake up and be a mom okay? Because I'm getting sick and tired of being a sister, a mom, a hunter, and everything else, every day. I'm only 22, mom, I should be falling in and out of love, getting arrested for speeding down the highway just for kicks, and getting hammered because I want to, not because I'm trying to drink away the memories," My stomach churned at the mere thought of liquor, "I love you mom, but stop being a hunter for a few minutes, and be a mom. We need you." I hung up and shook my head, wishing I hadn't because it sent me reeling all over again. Gasping, I sank down on the couch, letting my head fall into my hands, my stomach aching horribly, like someone had just slammed their fist into my stomach and twisted my insides all around.
I realized then, that whatever we had been attacked by, whether demonic or not, it was going to wreck havoc, in every definition of the word, and that scared me worse than any demon, ghost or creature ever could. Because to think that I could lose Caden, not in a heated fight or a hellish nightmare of a case gone wrong, but to aliments that seemed almost too human to be anything but, was something I had never even considered, not in all the years on the job. Maybe I just never saw our demise being one so simple, yet so undefined, as a mere demonic 'cold'.
A/n;; Off the record, yes, I'm fully aware that Dean's 'brotherly obsessive traits' are pouring over, making him just a bit ooc. That gets explained in later chapters. I am not following canon, and that's my point. As stated before, it's a sidekick story, not an actual canon based fan-fiction. With that in mind, I'd love to hear from you. :) Any reviews, negative, constructive, or otherwise, are greatly appreciated!
Another note – I let the story take place in 2010, because I was it post-Apocalypse, but Pre-Dean going to purgatory. Mainly because I missed that season ;)
I hope you all enjoy! Even tho it's a bit confusing right now! :D