thank you all once again for the great reviews, they really do mean alot to me. i hope you all enjoy this chapter, it adds in a little more background. as always, let me know what you think. :)
MEETING THE MOUNTAIN
Chapter 7
Tom Harrison sat on the old sofa, watching the four small children laugh and joke as they made smores, their small hands and faces covered in sticky goo and candy. It was a sight he wished he could see more often, not just on these rare occasions. They were supposed to be children after all, supposed to have fun, but that was something Kerri didn't seem to able to do anymore. That was, until Dean showed up on his back steps. In the hunters mind that little boy was a god send, a lifeline for his slowly fading daughter, and Tom was both relieved and a little jealous.
He should have been there for her more after the fire, should have made her open up to him about what it was she had actually seen. But at the time, and even now, it was easier to just ignore the problem, to just pretend that his little girl was whole and happy. It just helped make the days go faster, helped make the death of his wife a little less devastating. He knew he was being selfish, knew his daughter needed him to be a father, but he just wasn't sure he could be that to her right now. And well, now she had Dean, and that had to count for something.
His attention was drawn back to the group when he saw Kerri signal Sam over, whispering something into the smiling child's ear. A moment later, the sticky toddler turned to his brother.
"Dea, hug."
"Wash your hands first." Dean began, scooting away from his approaching brother.
"No. Hug now." He laughed, a mischievous smile plaster on his face as he dove at his big brother, his marshmallow covered hangs grabbing Dean's face. "You sticky now!"
"Oh yeah, I'm sticky now. Hey, Ev, why don't you hug Kerri?"
"'Kay." She smiled, turning and holding her hands up in front of her sister. Tom laughed as Evelyn sat, patiently watching while Kerri wiped the goo off her hands and face before leaning in to hug her big sister.
"You guys stink." Dean smiled, grabbing a wash cloth from Kerri.
"I stink!" Sam cheered, holding his hands out as Dean cleaned him off. "I stink, Dea?"
"Yeah, Sam, you smell."
"Yay! I smell, daddy." Sam yelled towards the kitchen.
"Dean, stop picking on your brother." Was the response yelled in from the kitchen, and Tom could see Dean shrink a little at the reprimand. After all, he hadn't meant any harm by it, he was just being a brother.
"Yes, Sir." Dean mumbled, though Tom knew it was more out of habit than anything else since there was no way John would have heard the quiet answer.
"Don't worry about it, Dean, I think your dad's just a little tired."
Dean was just about to defend his father's response when one of the sticks the kids were using to roast marshmallows hit his shoulder. The six year old jumped when he saw the still hot object, the smoldering end leaving ash on his shirt.
"More 'smallows." Sam frowned, moving the stick closer to his brother once more.
"Whoa there, Sammy. You have to be careful, that's hot." Dean spoke softly but directly to his brother, and Tom was surprised to see Sam obey without hesitation.
"Sorry, Dea. You 'kay?"
"Yeah, Sam, I'm fine. Just leave the sticks were me and Kerri put them, ok?"
"Yeah, 'kay. But, I still need more 'smallows, Dea."
"Actually, Sam." Tom began smiling when the little boy looked up at him skeptically. It was obvious to everyone that, since the incident with Sadie Miller, Sam had been much more protective of Dean. Little Sam didn't really know what had happened, but all that mattered to him was that someone had upset his big brother, and, therefor, his big brother needed to be looked after. "I think it's time for bed."
Judging by the look on his face, Sam didn't seem to care what he had to say one way or another. No, he just turned to his brother as though Tom hadn't said a word. "I need more 'smallows, Dea."
"No buddy, I think it's time to sleep."
"No, Dea, time for smoos."
"One, they're called smores, and two, I'm older and I say it's time for bed."
"But I not tired, Dea." Sam yawned, big brown eyes staring imploring at his brother. And in that instant, Tom didn't know how Dean ever said no to Sam. Hell, he would have handed over the deed to his house if Sam asked him with that face.
"But you'll be too tired to sled tomorrow if you don't go to sleep now. You do want to sled again, right?"
"Yeah, yeah." Sam jumped up, looking like his brother just told him christmas was cancelled. "I sled again."
"Ok, but you have to go to sleep now."
"'Kay, come on." Sam began, grabbing Dean's hand and pulling him towards the stairs. It was beyond obvious that, more than anything, Sam wanted to sled in the morning. "You too, Ev." Sam added, turning towards Evelyn, but the little girl was already asleep in Kerri's lap.
Tom smiled, scooping his youngest daughter up into his arm and following the other three up the stairs. For that one day they were all children and nothing more, and it made the hunter's heart ache. But he knew there was nothing he could do to change the way his children were going to be raised, no way of undoing all the horrors that had befallen his small family. Perfection was gone, but maybe what they still had would be enough.
He tucked the four small children in, the girls each in their separate rooms and Sam and Dean together, just as the boys had requested. He then checked and rechecked every protection symbol and salt line around the large house, making sure that nothing could get in before returning to the kitchen, John still sitting at the table, immersed in his research, just as Tom had left him. The senior Harrison used to think he was obsessive, but his zeal was nothing compared to John's.
"Why don't you get some shut eye, John?" Tom suggested, pouring himself a cup of coffee.
"I'm fine." The senior Winchester mumbled, rubbing his eyes.
"Look, you've gone over those papers a hundred times, nothing's gonna change. Get some sleep."
"Yeah, maybe. It's just, I wanna get this thing, Tom."
"So do I, but it's not gonna do you any good to fall asleep instead of shoot the damn thing. Get some rest. You drove all day yesterday and then slept what, like four hours, stop pushing yourself."
"I need to do this for my boys, for Mary."
"You're not gonna be any good to your boys if you burn out when they're still babies."
Tom watched as the other hunter's shoulders slumped, his energy finally giving way. He knew where John was coming from, knew what it was like to go from having everything to having nothing more than broken shards of what perfection could have been. But he also knew that the hunt for this thing wasn't going to end tonight, that the monster that had destroyed their lives would still be there in the morning, and so would their children. They both needed to stop and take stock in what they had, before they lost even more.
"Ok, but just for a few hours." John began, pushing back his chair. "What about you?" He asked, eyebrows raised when he saw Tom heading towards the basement.
"I have some work to do."
"Thanks again, Tom. For everything." John smiled wearily before disappearing up the stairs.
Tom just sighed, turning back towards the basement stairs. It was times like this that he just wished for normal, wished that there weren't any monsters hiding in the closets, that there wasn't anything hiding in the dark. He had known what was out there, but he had been naive, even reckless, but that would never happen again. No, his wife had been taken as a result of his negligence, as a result of him thinking that it could never happen to him. But that was the way everything was, just a distant story, something unreal that only happened to others. But now, well now everything was very, very real.
He tuned out the world as he began to work, the papers and artifacts spread out before him in the dim basement light. He liked times like these, liked losing himself in his research while he knew his children were safe and warm in their beds. It was a time when he could release all the tensions of the day, let it all wash past him, disappear like the stars in a pre-dawn light. It was calming and soothing and something he needed. He wasn't on a timeline, wasn't researching a life or death hunt, he was just looking up what he could about the strange trinkets hunters came across in their travels.
He was working for about an hour when he heard the basement stairs creek. He scanned the area, senses on alert, sharp eye staring down every shadow around him, willing them to move. But instead of finding a demon, instead of seeing a monster, Tom found Dean, the little boy standing quietly on the stairs.
"Dean." Tom sighed, signaling the little boy closer. "Is everything alright?"
"Yeah."
"Where's Sam?" The hunter asked, knowing Dean would never leave his brother alone.
"He had a nightmare so he's sleeping with my dad. He's ok." Dean stated matter-of-factly, climbing up on one of the stools.
"Are you ok?"
"Yeah. I just can't sleep. What are you doing?"
"Just some research."
"Oh. About my daddy's hunt?"
"No, your dad is doing enough research for the both of us. No, I'm just looking up some of the artifacts other hunters give me.
"Are there lots of other hunters?"
"Yeah, a real lot. They have been around for a long time."
"Then why didn't one of them come and stop the thing that killed my mom?"
Tom just sighed, putting down the medallion he had been studying and turning towards Dean. It was an honest and innocent question, but it was a question Tom didn't want to answer. After all, he had known what was out there long before his wife was killed and he hadn't been able to do anything. And, to this day, he still blamed himself. He should have taken more precautions, should have listened when hunters told him he could never be too careful. There was so much he could have and should have done, but, in the end, he didn't, and he had been paying the price ever since.
"Well, Dean, no hunters knew that it was going to be there that night."
"They weren't tracking it?"
"No."
"But I thought that's what hunters did. The followed and killed the bad stuff."
"Yes, that's what we do. But we can't be everywhere at once. No matter what you do, Dean, bad stuff still happens."
"Like today at the store. I tried to keep Kerri in the back away from that lady, but it still didn't work."
"Yeah." Tom smiled sadly, amazed at how observant Dean was for a six year old. "A lot like that."
"Mr. Harrison?" Dean began a few moments later, his eyes wide and imploring.
"Yeah?"
"Why does Mrs. Miller hate Kerri so much? I mean, I know Kerri says it's because of Timmy Collins, but I think there's more."
'Oh yes,' Tom thought, staring at the child before him, 'he was much more observant than he should have been.' "Well, it does have something to do with that kid, but you're right, Dean, there's more to it then that."
"What?"
"It's a really long story. Maybe you should get to bed."
"I'm really not tired. Please, Mr. Harrison, I want to know. And I'm a big kid, so I can handle it."
"Ok. You know that I've known about hunting a lot longer than your daddy, right?"
"Yeah." Dean answered, his eyes opened wide as he soaked in everything Tom was saying.
"Well, I learned about it all a long time ago. A hunter, he showed up at the college where I teach, asked a lot of weird questions. I thought he was a dangerous lunatic so I followed him, and well, I saw things that night that changed me forever. Anyway, that was about three years before I met Kerri and Evelyn's mom."
"Elizabeth. Kerri told me."
"Yes, Elizabeth. Have you ever heard of something called meningitis, Dean?"
"No, what's that?"
"It's an illness. It can effect everyone, and it makes you really sick, gives you high fevers, a lot of people even die from it."
"Wow, and that's all just from getting sick?"
"Yeah. It's especially dangerous to babies."
"Do you think Sammy can get it?"
"No, I think Sam's fine, most people go their whole lives and never get it."
"Then why tell me about it?"
"Well, like I said, it's really bad when babies get it. And sometimes, they don't get better after. Like it makes some babies go blind."
"Did Kerri get it?"
"Yes, Dean, she did. She was only a few month younger than Sam and Ev when she got sick."
"Did she go blind?"
"Yes, do you know what that means?"
"Yeah, it means she can't see. But she can see now."
"She can. After Kerri got sick, I was so scared, and I was afraid that she would never be able to do the things she wanted to do. I was her daddy and I just wanted her better."
"What'd you do?"
"I called some of the hunters I knew, they told me about a hoodoo priestess that could help. And she did, she made Kerri well again."
"So, what's the problem?"
"Well, a lot of people don't know the things we do, especially when it comes to the supernatural. Mrs. Miller, well she knew Kerri went blind, she was at our old house with here everyday. So, when we came back from vacation and she could see again, Sadie was scared."
"That doesn't mean she can yell at her."
"No, it doesn't. But Mrs. Miller is very superstitious. A long time ago people used to believe that red-headed girls were the devil's kids. And, when Kerri was born Mrs. Miller was instantly worried about her. And then, after she got sick and no one could explain how she got better, Sadie got more suspicious. Everything got a lot worse after my wife died."
"Does Mrs. Miller blame Kerri for that?"
"A little yeah. I've talked to her, tried to explain reason to her, but she's got that idea stuck in her head and she just won't let it go. You see, she knew my wife ever since she was a little baby."
"But, it's not Kerri's fault."
"No, it's not. I take her down there to get Sadie used to seeing her, but it doesn't seem to help. Plus, Kerri isn't exactly the most popular kid around, or the easiest to get along with."
"I think she's alright."
"Thank you, Dean."
"Mr. Harrison?"
"Yes, Dean?"
"Does Kerri know she was sick?"
"Not really, no. She knows something happened, and she can remember a little of it, but she doesn't know it all."
"Well, you can trust me not to tell her, I'm good at keeping secrets."
"It's not really a secret, but I don't want her to feel any different than she already does."
"Yeah, I got you." Dean smiled, hopping off the stool. "Thank you for telling me, most people treat me like a baby."
Tom just watched as the little boy climbed the stairs and disappeared back into the shadows. In all honesty he wanted nothing more than to treat Dean like a baby, to treat him like the child he should have been. But it was painfully obvious the moment Tom laid eyes on him that Dean was no child. In fact, he knew and understood a lot more than most adults, and it was just so unfair. At six years old he shouldn't be asking why his new friend was treated the way she was, shouldn't understand everything Tom had told him as if he was listening to the weather report. No, Dean should be out playing, out asking how snow is made, or how the mountains got so tall. He shouldn't be in a dark basement in the middle of the night offering a grown man a shoulder to cry on.
But, this was the life they had now, and, good or bad, it was all they had left.
