Chapter Four
The next day Kenny was in a world of hurt, but she was working. Just because she felt like a Mack truck hit her was no reason to stop working. She knew Dean would understand. He had the same sense of responsibility she did. And it was probably too well developed in both of them. The room that had been designated as the project room didn't help much, either; it echoed.
"Hey," Sam said, and Kenny winced.
"Oh, sorry. Long night?" he said with a knowing grin.
"Mmm…maybe not long enough. I woke up this morning. I wanted to sleep until 1 or 2 – tomorrow," Kenny said.
"Something we said?" Sam asked.
"No. Everything I said. Memories are a bitch, ya know?"
"Yeah, believe me, I know. I have the cure for your head, though. I'll be right back," Sam said, turning and walking out of the room.
Kenny kept working, but it wasn't going well. Her head hurt too much and her eyes wouldn't focus. Sam was back in a few minutes with a glass. What was in it looked really disgusting and thick. And green.
"Drink this. Don't smell it, don't taste it, just throw it down your throat," he said. Kenny looked at him suspiciously. "Just trust me," he said. "I learned the hard way. Just drink it; quickly."
"It's green. Ugh, looks disgusting. Well, I can't feel any worse," Kenny said and threw back the glass with one gulp. "Oh my God that is disgusting!" She gagged a little. The texture of the concoction was awful. Ugh. Gross. The taste wasn't much better.
"I know," Sam said grinning. "But you'll feel better in a little while." Still smiling, he left the room with the glass.
Kenny continued with what she was trying to work on. Gradually, she became more engrossed in the process as pieces started to fall into place. She could almost see the entire layout of what the Library, as she liked to call it, would look like. Good thing she'd spent so many hours in one. At least she knew the layout.
"How are you feeling?" Sam asked.
Kenny jumped like she'd been shocked. "Oh! You scared me," Kenny said. "I didn't hear you come in."
"Sorry. I'm pretty quiet when I want to be," Sam said grinning. To Kenny he didn't look the least bit sorry. Deliver me from brothers, she thought.
"How's the head?" he asked.
"Better, now that you mention it. Thanks."
"You're welcome."
Sam left her to her work. Kenny continued working for the rest of the day, stopping only to eat, ask a few questions, and throw in some laundry when her eyes were tired of looking at the screen. She heard Sam, Dean, and Charlie going on about whatever they were working on, but tuned them out. This was one time when having the ability to hyper focus was a plus. When it was time to start supper, she put everything away and cleaned up the table. She had a solid understanding of what the job was and a plan for the organization of the information, ideas on what she would make searchable, and how the symbols and other pictures would work, and what she thought should link to what. She was satisfied.
"Now, to the kitchen," she said. She headed that way and ran smack into Dean when she rounded a corner. It was like hitting a brick wall and he caught her before she fell.
"Whoa, sorry," he said. He checked her over to see if he'd hurt her. "I was coming to get you."
"Sorry. I need to pay attention more," Kenny said. "I was planning supper in my head. What's up?"
"Grub," he said turning and heading for the kitchen.
Puzzled she followed him. Around the next corner the lovely fragrance of hamburgers hit her squarely in the face – and her stomach growled loudly.
"That smells so good," she said.
"My secret recipe," Dean said with a smirk. "Even Sammy eats them."
Kenny entered the kitchen where Sam and Charlie were already eating with looks of rapture on their faces.
"I swear, Dean, these get better every time you make them," Sam said. Charlie just nodded and kept on eating.
"I didn't think you would feel up to cooking after last night, so I pulled kitchen duty this evening," Dean said quietly before she sat down. "We can cook. You don't have to do it all by yourself."
"Thanks," Kenny said for once at a loss for words. She'd always done everything by herself, especially after Alex had died. The last three years hadn't been easy, but here she was, still standing. She'd keep on doing what she knew worked. Deciding to let that train of thought go for now, she dug in.
The burgers were heaven on earth as far as she was concerned. Cooked just right, seasoned to perfection, and they were on pretzel buns. She'd have to run four miles tomorrow just to work this off, but it was so worth it. She was so used to being on her own; maybe she could share the load just a bit. At least with the cooking duties anyway. She turned her attention to the burger, the company, and the conversation. She could relax for the evening. Her head still hurt a little, but all the junk would still be there tomorrow. For tonight she wouldn't worry about anything. She would just enjoy.
Life fell into a predictable pattern after the first few weeks for Kenny at the bunker. She got up, went for a run, sometimes with Sam, though most times not. She worked on the massive pile of information, cooked, cleaned, and slept. The knot that had seemed to be perpetually lodged between her shoulders blades no matter how many stretches and deep breaths she took gradually started to loosen. Kenny knew she was finding her place here and would be lost once the Library was up and running and she had to leave. Sam could do the maintenance when she was through.
Kenny stopped and sat back in her chair. She massaged her hands without really thinking about it. The notes, typing, and scanning were really doing a number on her. Suddenly, two enormous hands reached for hers.
"What's wrong?" Sam asked.
"Nothing really," Kenny said. "I'm making great progress, but all the writing and typing makes my hands hurt." Sam didn't let go of her hands but started to gently rub them. "What are you doing?" Kenny was surprised and a little breathless. Great! Just great! She hadn't been attracted to a man in years and here she was getting all crazy over a set of brothers. This was a bad idea all around.
"Just trying to help," Sam said, laying her hands gently back on the table. "I can help with the input, if you want me to, so your hands won't hurt." Sam looked a little uncomfortable, too.
Getting up to pace, Kenny said, "Look, Sam. I hope I'm not reading this wrong, but it's been years, so I'm a little out of practice. I don't know how to say this so I'll be blunt – are you attracted to me?"
Sam looked more uncomfortable than Kenny felt at the direct question. "Yeah, I am," Sam replied. "And what do you mean, it's been years?" The look on his face was priceless, Kenny thought.
"Just what I said, Sam, years," Kenny replied putting her hands on the table and leaning forward a little. "My husband was the hometown hero after being killed in Afghanistan. No one ever saw me as me after that, they always saw me as Alex's wife – his widow. So that meant hands off. That was okay for the first year or two." Kenny sighed. "After that it just got really old. I even tried asking a few guys out and no one would go." Kenny was walking circles around the table. Sam just let her go. He understood it was easier to move and think at times. "I had been a widow for five years before I was zapped here," Kenny said and looked at Sam. "The last three years haven't really been ideal for finding bed partners, one night stands, or whatever. I've just been trying to survive." Kenny's eyes shown with tears. "Charlie's been a big help, don't get me wrong, but she isn't my type."
"Wow," Sam said. "I, uh, I don't know what to say." He looked around the room; it seemed like anywhere but at Kenny. "But, I will say this," he continued and looked her straight in the eye. "I didn't want to be attracted to you, but I can't help it. You have a lot on your plate; I didn't want to be something else piled on you. I won't push, but just know I'm here." He smiled and got up to leave the room. "We still running tomorrow?"
"Yeah, I'll see you then."
"Good. I've got to run out for a bit so I'll see you later." Sam left the room as quietly as he'd come in.
"Oh, God." Kenny buried her face in her hands. "Ugh, I hate that stuff. I was never very good at the chase. At least he's not making himself too hard to catch." She sighed. "My wedding band probably wasn't helping on the chase front. And… I'm talking to myself. Time for a change of scenery." She shut down the computer and cleaned up the table.
