November 10th - 14th, 2005
The mid-November sun reflected blindingly off the shiny black exterior of a 1967 Chevy Impala as it barreled down I-70 going a good twenty miles over the speed limit, just outside Grand Junction, Colorado. The 800 mile drive from Reno that should have taken eleven hours had taken nine, not counting two breaks for food and facilities.
A handsome leather-clad young man with dark hair, impossibly green eyes and a lead foot sat in the driver's seat, debating on whether or not to change the radio as Lit's 'Miserable' emanated from the speakers.
He reached for the Discman on the dash, every intention of hitting 'stop', when the diminutive brunette piped up from behind him, "Don't even think about it, Winchester. We had a deal, that radio is mine for another hour and forty-two minutes," smirking, she met his eyes in the rearview, holding up her wrist and tapping the face of the clunky black plastic watch she wore to emphasize how much time she had left, "Don't make a bet if you don't wanna pay up,"
Letting out a long suffering sigh, Dean put his hand back on the steering wheel, "This-this barely qualifies as music, Tink."
Okay really it wasn't that bad, all things considered. He had a feeling she was going easy on him by putting on something somewhat mild compared to some of the other stuff he knew she listened to. He should never have bought her that box of CDs.
Ha, too late now!
"Suck it up, Buttercup, you made the bet. I told you I could do it and you didn't fuckin' believe me. Got no one to blame but yourself," resuming reading from where she'd left off in the worn copy of 'The Shining' that she'd borrowed from Dean, she sang along to Mariah Carey's 'Fantasy' as it came on after Lit.
Gotta love those 'Best Of' CD compilations. Yay 90's! The man was just damn lucky she didn't put on Avenged Sevenfold or Marilyn Manson. Would have been entertaining to see his head spin around and fly off though.
He should never have taken that bet but he seriously hadn't expected her to be able to pull it off. They'd bet she couldn't field strip and reassemble Sam's Taurus. After all, she'd only read the manual and then watched Sam do it exactly once.
He had been wrong. He'd also been shocked at how quickly she'd done it, almost as fast as Dean himself and he'd been doing it for years. He was coming to realize exactly how scary fast the girl picked up new skills. She claimed learning was 'fun', proving their ideas of entertainment were vastly different.
Sam hadn't thought she could do it either but he hadn't been willing to to bet against her. They'd been getting along too well for that and he hadn't wanted to screw it up. They'd become fast friends since Sam had sobered up two days out of Palo Alto, bonding over True Crime documentaries and discussions of infamous serial killers, much to Dean's consternation.
They rode in silence for a few more miles before the pile of tan jacket and denim in the passenger seat jerked awake, sitting up and taking a ragged breath. The 6'5" behemoth of a man rubbed his eyes as his latest nightmare fled, leaving behind a handful of images.
Jessica's grave.
Fresh flowers.
A hand reaching out of the newly turned earth to grab him, pulling him down.
His fault...
"You okay, Sammy?" Looking over at his brother, Dean managed to tone down the concern in his voice, trying not to let on how worried he really was about the man.
The first twenty-four hours after Jessica's death had been difficult to say the least. Sam had spent the time wasted on Jack Daniels. Do you know how much liquor it takes to get a man his size white girl wasted? Hint: A not insubstantial amount.
He'd been sober since then but he hadn't been sleeping, not coping at all well but trying to hide the extent of how bad it really was from his companions. Sam may claim Dean was in denial about a few things, like his ever-growing feelings for the girl in the backseat, but he certainly wasn't the only one. Running his hand through long brown hair in desperate need of a trim, Sam stifled a yawn, "Yeah, I'm fine."
Liar. He was totally not fine. He knew it. Dean knew it. Skye knew it. Hell, the people three states over knew it...actually, Hell probably knew it too, but we won't go there right now. Guilt weighed heavy on the big man's conscience but he wasn't about to burden them with it. If only he'd told Jess the truth. If only he'd come back sooner. If only...If. If. If.
His fault…
"Another nightmare?" Sliding forward, Skye sat on the edge of her seat, resting a hand on Sam's shoulder. It was only a few seconds, but that was kind of a big deal for her. Definitely a 'it's the thought that counts' move.
Managing a smile, Sam gave her fingers a quick squeeze before she pulled her hand back, smile widening as he noted how hard the girl tried not to wince at being touched. A few days ago, Skye had decided that she was going to get over her issues or die trying. With the boys help, she'd actually made some progress. A tiny tiny bit of progress, but any was better than none. It was more progress than Dean had made learning to Tango, anyway. Sam was a natural.
See, she'd decided on a kind of desensitization therapy and recruited the big lugs to help. Teaching them to dance, something she loved, was a good way to offset something she hated. It was helping.
Looking at his little brother, Dean tried to think of something he could say or do that might help. Being Dean, only one thing popped into his head, "Wanna drive for awhile?"
Translation: I love you and I'm worried about you. The Impala was Dean's baby. No one currently riding in that car had any doubt that he loved that thing more than he loved basically anything else ever, with perhaps the sole exceptions being Sammy and John. And cheeseburgers with extra onions.
Chuckling, Sam shook his head, the disbelief strong on his handsome features, "In your whole life, you have never once asked me that."
Knowing what that offer meant, Sam couldn't help feeling marginally better. It was a sweet gesture from a man that didn't do 'sweet'. Or feelings of any kind aside from anger and irritation. Wait, is lust a feeling? 'Cause he did that too. Sam had called Dean an emotionally stunted twelve-year-old on several occasions and, let's face it, he wasn't entirely wrong.
"Just thought you might want to," looking out the driver's side window, Dean hoped Sam wouldn't say anything about the offer. Fat chance, "never mind."
"Look, man, you're worried about me-"
Clearing her throat from the backseat, Skye wordlessly added herself to the roster of people that were worried about him.
"-both of you are worried about me. I get it, and thank you," twisting around in his seat, he looked back to smile at Skye, adding her into the conversation, "Thank you both, but I'm perfectly okay."
You know, if liar's pants really did catch on fire, all three of them would have heavily invested in fire extinguishers. Making simultaneous noises of disbelief, Skye and Dean took the hint and let the matter drop.
"I'll drive," Skye offered, already knowing what the answer would be.
"Over my dead body," It was a knee-jerk reply, Dean didn't realize quite what he'd said until Sam started laughing.
"Well, I mean I could, but Sam might protest," putting her book down on the seat next to her after marking her spot with a gas station receipt, she scooted forward enough to rest her arms on the back of the front seat, "And it might damage the car. Can't have that, now can we."
The smell of his leather jacket tickled her nose as he looked over his shoulder at her, "You think you're funny, don't you."
"I think I'm fuckin' hilarious," she replied, tweaking Dean's ear with a fingertip.
Swatting her hand away, he tried to think of a suitably scathing reply but couldn't come up with anything. Really, he was proud of such a small gesture. Just a week ago she'd never have thought to do such a thing. Such an annoying thing Oh well, small victories.
"Alright, where are we?" Reaching a long arm out, Sam snagged the map off the dashboard. He knew about where they should be, but confirming was never a bad idea.
"Just outside of Grand Junction, if the last sign we passed is to be believed. So far I'm not seein' anything terribly grand about it," she peered past Sam's broad shoulders at the map in his hands, disappointment coloring her words, "I've never been to Colorado, I was kinda hopin' for snow."
Probably a good thing she didn't get her wish, they weren't exactly outfitted for freezing weather. Holding the map up so she could see it, Sam talked over it to address his brother, skepticism and hope warring in his voice, "You think we'll find Dad here?"
They'd been hoping to find him in Jericho but that hadn't quite worked out, now had it. Maybe if they had, Jess… No, he couldn't think like that or he'd tear himself apart. Like he wasn't doing that already.
"I don't know, Sammy," Dean reached over and lowered the map so he could talk to him without it blocking his vision, "It's worth a shot though. Dad'll have answers, he'll know what to do."
It was going on a month now since John had gone missing, leaving his oldest son one voicemail in all that time. They knew he was off hunting the monster that had killed the boys' mom. The monster that had killed Jess. And that was all they knew, because John fucking Winchester isn't too good with the whole communication thing.
Dean's jaw twitched when Skye made a derisive noise in the back of her throat, making no bones about the fact that she was not John's biggest fan, in spite of the fact that she'd never met the man. From Dean's own stories she knew the man was an obsessive psychopath with no regard for anyone or anything that got in the way of his quest for vengeance. He'd raised his own kids to be soldiers. To be warriors. Taking two little boys and twisting them into killers, destroying any chance of a childhood or a normal life they ever had. She just couldn't understand the unshakeable faith Dean had in the man. But then, Dean wasn't quite sane himself.
"It's weird, man," Bewildered, Sam broke the silence, laying the open map down in his lap, "These coordinates he left us, this Blackwater Ridge…"
"What about it?" Looking over at him, Dean wondered what could be so puzzling about it.
"It's in the middle of bumfuck nowhere, that's what," Skye took the liberty of answering. She and Sam had discussed it just this morning and she'd known what he was going for when he'd spoken up.
"Pretty much, yeah," Sam nodded agreement as he folded up the map and tossed it back onto the dashboard, a brown and white sign reading 'Welcome to Lost Creek Colorado National Forest' flashing past his window, "There's nothing there. It's just woods."
"Why is John sending us to the middle of fuckin' nowhere?"
Nobody had an answer for her as Dean made the left turn onto the worn blacktop, following the window road that lead through a tunnel of towering evergreens, pulling up in front of an old log-cabin style ranger's station. A sign reading 'Ranger Station, Lost Creek Trail, Lost Creek National Forest' seemed entirely too repetitive, but it did its job announcing their location. The flag atop the pole in front of the station sat lifeless, not even a hint of a breeze stirring the still autumn air as the three occupants exited the car, doing a damn fine job at avoiding the dozen or so people milling around the place.
Rocking back on her heels, hands deep in the pockets of her denim jacket, Skye took a look around. Nature. Yeah, nope. Not a fan. Too much quiet. Too much opportunity to get lost in her own thoughts. Something she typically avoided at all costs. Catching up to the boys', she smiled up at Sam as he held the door for her, twitching the hem of his jacket as she walked by.
Also not a fan of nature, Dean hadn't bothered to stop and take a look at the scenery outside, eager to just get on with...whatever in the hell they were getting on with.
The inside of the ranger station was pretty much exactly what he'd expected. A desk on the far right covered in papers, maps and various brochures in rainbow hues. A few file cabinets and coolers against walls that were covered with charts, maps and news articles. Last but certainly not least, a pretty cool three dimensional terrain table dominated the middle of the small space.
Seriously, the thing was nifty. Going straight to the table, Sam examined it closely, hands on the sides as he leaned over it to get a good look. Taking a brief look around, Skye joined Sam at the table, standing on the opposite side as she peered down at it. She didn't know much about how to read maps and the like yet, but she'd learn.
"Blackwater Ridge is pretty remote," Sam didn't seem to much like what he saw as he pointed out specific areas, pitching his voice so his brother would have no trouble hearing as he explained the details to Skye, "It's cut off by these canyons here. There's rough terrain and dense forest here, and all these are abandoned silver and gold mines."
Nodding, she took in the details and filed the information away for later. If she ever saw a map like this one again, she'd have no trouble reading it. Or, at least, she wouldn't if it had canyons, forests and abandoned mines.
"Those mines are all over the place," she leaned over the table, finger tracing from one to another to another, "I saw 'My Bloody Valentine', those things are death traps."
"Guys, check out the size of this fuckin' bear," he tapped a framed picture of a very large grizzly before turning to Skye, pulling a hand out of his pocket to make a rude gesture, "That was a terrible movie. Here I thought you had taste."
"Did you just-was that a compliment, Winchester? Sam, pinch me, I must be dreamin'," she wrinkled her nose at Dean, teasing him. A vastly different tone than the one she'd have taken with him just a couple short weeks ago. She'd calmed down considerably since then, much less defensive and bitchy now than she had been. Remarkable how that seemed to coincide with her learning how to shoot a gun. She'd only been shooting a couple of times but like everything else, the girl was a natural. She really did seem to learn new skills and absorb information as easily as breathing. Kind of unnerving, really.
These days, she rarely went unarmed. No doubt she was packing even now, a little Sig Sauer 1911 Ultra Compact 9mm that Dean had customized for her with slim grips and a short trigger. Girl had tiny hands, don't you know. That certainly wasn't the only thing she carried. Seriously, she was armed to the teeth ever since Dean had bought her a variety of weapons. Being able to defend herself, at least a little, had done wonders for the girl. Hell, if having a dozen weapons hidden on her person made her feel safe enough to give a genuine smile once in awhile, the boys certainly weren't going to argue
Trying to call their attention to the matter at hand, Sam tried to impress upon them how dangerous a situation they could potentially be putting themselves in, "Guys, really. This isn't a nature hike, there are a dozen or more grizzlies in the area."
As if they weren't already knowingly going into the forest to track an unknown monster that was making off with unwary hikers. At least bears were a known threat.
"You kids aren't planning to go out near Blackwater Ridge by any chance?" The park ranger stepped into the room from his office in the back. At least, Skye assumed he was a ranger based on the uniform. Very Yogi Bear, except Ranger Smith hadn't worn a ball cap.
The troublesome trio turned to give the Ranger their full attention, the boys naturally taking up places on either side of Skye, a subconscious move to keep the most vulnerable member of their little pack protected. Sweet, aren't they.
"Oh no sir," Sam spoke up, the lie rolling easily off his tongue. Yeah, not at all obvious he'd done this kind of thing before, was it. Hell, lying was second nature, it was telling the truth that was difficult, "We're environmental study majors from UC Boulder. Just working on a paper."
Managing to turn a 'that's stupid' face into a smile, Dean held up a 'more power' fist, "Recycle, man."
Because that was believable. Turning to look up at him, eyes mocking though she managed to keep a straight face, Skye gave him a 'really' look that was plain as day. Resting a hand on her shoulder, he gently turned her back around to face the Ranger so he wouldn't have to see it. Even when she was laughing at him she was cute. Dammit.
Tensing under his hand, she forced herself to relax and breathe. He wasn't a threat. It was okay. Well, he wasn't a threat to her.
"Bullshit," the Ranger unexpectedly called their bluff, causing all three of them to stiffen for a second before he continued, gesturing with his coffee cup as he took a step toward them, "You're friends with that Hailey girl, aren't you?"
Dude sounded seriously exasperated, like he'd already put up with quite enough where this 'Hailey girl' was concerned. A 'what the hell' expression on his too-damn-pretty face, Dean took a shot in the dark. Reading the Ranger's badge, he replied, "Yes we are, Ranger Wilkins."
Taking a protective stance, he moved to stand between the Ranger and the girl, not even noticing he did so. To be fair, Skye didn't notice either. Sam did though. Looking away, he had to bite his tongue to keep from giggling like a little girl...Because let's face it, he can be kind of an ass.
"Well, I'll tell you exactly what I told her," the Ranger leaned back against the desk behind him, "Her brother filled out a backcountry permit saying he wouldn't be back from Blackwater until the 24th. It's not exactly a missing persons, now is it."
Shaking his head, the Ranger put down his coffee mug on the desk he was leaning against, "Tell that girl to quit worryin', I'm sure her brother's just fine."
"Man, that Hailey girl's quite a pistol, huh," Turning to follow the Ranger into his office, a smile on his face, Dean obviously had an idea, "You know what might help? If I could maybe show her a copy of that backcountry permit. You know, so she could see her brothers return date."
Looking hesitant, Ranger Wilkinson thought about it for a minute and for a second there, it looked like he was going to refuse.
"I know you're probably not supposed to give out that kind of information, sir, but-" Peering out from around Dean, she stepped out from behind him, gesturing to the two men flanking either side of her, "But I know it'd make me feel a whole lot better if one of my brother's was missin'. To see in his own hand that he put down he wouldn't be back yet, you know? It'd give me some peace of mind and I'm sure it would Hailey too. She's just so wrought up about it."
Dean had to admit, she did the whole 'sweet innocent' thing pretty damn well, the thick Okie accent she was laying on really sold it. Why did the entire Ranger station smell like honeysuckle? Surely her perfume wasn't that strong. He really needed to tell her to tone it down with that shit but, well, he liked it so he just hadn't found the time.
"You're right, I'm not supposed to," Ranger Wilkinson sighed, "Technically it's government property but...Alright, give me just a second to make you a copy."
With a shake of his head, he retrieved his empty coffee cup and disappeared into the office at the back of the station.
"Nice," Nudging her shoulder with an elbow, Sam gave his seal of approval. Seemed she didn't just learn quickly when an instruction manual was involved.
Hands tucked in her pockets, she smiled up at him, "Thanks Sasquatch, I'd like to think I'm catchin' on."
Without looking at her, Dean held out a hand for a high-five. Okay, well, a low-five. With her, everything had to be low. So goes the life of a short girl. Returning in short order, Ranger Wilkinson handed the permit to Dean before shooing the lot of them out of his station.
Grinning, Dean tucked the permit into the pocket of his dark-gray long-sleeve button up. At least Skye now knew why the boys tended to wear at least two layers. Easier to conceal a weapon that way.
"What, are you cruising for a hookup or something?" Sam sounded irritated and impatient. He didn't see the point in getting the damn permit, knowing Dean only wanted it because it would have Hailey's address on it.
He just wanted to get to the Ridge and find Dad, screw all this extraneous bullshit. Hell, he even wanted to be irritated at Skye for helping Dean to get the stupid thing but he just couldn't. She was doing really well, all things considered. He couldn't help but be a little proud of the girl he was quickly starting to think of like a little sister.
"What do you mean?" Genuinely puzzled, Dean had to press for clarification, bewildered at Sam's frustration.
"The coordinates point to Blackwater Ridge," the condescension in his voice was strong and not entirely intentional, "What are we waiting for? Let's go find Dad. Why even go talk to this girl?"
Circling around the car, Sam leaned against the passenger side, forearms resting on the top of the car.
Stopping and leaning against the hood on the driver's side, Skye watched the boys talk, holding her tongue for the moment. Granted, that moment never lasted long. She simply wasn't one not to say what was on her mind.
Crossing her arms, she waited to see if they'd iron it out or if it would turn into a shouting match.
If the former, she'd get in the car. If the latter, she'd turn her ass around and take a walk.
The boys didn't really scare her anymore, but it was still difficult for her to deal with raised voices and bad tempers, though she knew it was something she needed to get over sooner rather than later.
"Because maybe we should know what we're walkin' into before we actually walk into it," Stopping at the driver's side door, Dean glanced at Skye before looking at his brother, careful to keep his voice as even as he could, giving Sam a 'what the fuck dude' look that spoke as clearly as if he'd said it aloud.
"What?"
"Since when are you all 'shoot first, ask questions later' anyway?" He leaned against the car, one arm resting on the top as he looked at Sam.
That was Dean's usual stance, Sam tending to be the more level-headed one. While it was kind of gratifying to see Sam go that direction, it was also really worrying.
"Sam, I get it. Well, as much as I can, anyway," Skye got their attention, adding her two cents. She'd never been able to keep quiet for long and this was no exception, "What if you could help him and you didn't because you couldn't wait a few more hours?"
Leaning a hip against the car, she gestured, encompassing the two Winchester brothers, "Isn't that really what you do? Help people? Besides, you of all people show know how she feels with family missin'...dontcha think?"
Sam really had nothing to say to that and Skye didn't wait too long for a reply before she walked to the back driver's side door.
Catching her eye, Dean held it open for her, his deep voice very sure as he spoke a single word, "We."
"What?" Looking at him, she didn't catch what he meant.
"We help people," he smiled down at her, meaning every word, "That includes you, Tinkerbell."
Though the girl smiled a lot, it was rare to get a genuine smile out of her, it was more that she simply painted on the expression to deal with societal convention. Genuine smiles though, the real ones that crept up and turned her plain brown eyes into warm hot chocolate, were rare.
It was one of those rare melted-chocolate smiles she gave Dean now, touching the back of his hand briefly in a silent 'thank you' as she slid into the back seat.
Worth more than any audible words of gratitude could ever be.
Grinning, he closed the door behind her and climbed into the driver's seat, starting the car and point it toward that 'Hailey girl's house'...with a brief stop at the nearest Kinko's.