Chapter Nine
They were going to have to hit the road again. Couldn't risk losing the cover of the farmhouse or the bar by staying. Not when they knew the demon was coming, coming for the baby…and damn Dean just couldn't get used to that one. He could only imagine what was going through Sam's head right now. Sam who'd always just wanted a taste of normal. The kid wasn't even born yet and they knew it was going to have some sort of power…would have to for that yellow-eyed freak to come after them. Dealing with that alone was enough to screw him up for a good long while…and then there was Franny, or Kate…or whatever the hell she thought her name was right now. Dean just couldn't figure out how the hell Sam was managing to keep it together at all.
Their dad had taken up his position on the front porch for the night. Said he needed them sharp for what was coming. Bobby had taken the back and Jim sat up in the kitchen all night.
Cal…well she slept like the dead. (and how stupid was that saying anyway? None of the dead he'd ever met slept well, hell he didn't think they slept at all) She would sleep soundly too, wouldn't she? After all the trouble she'd stirred up. That little wild goose chase she'd sent him on, looking for her had thoroughly worn him out. 'Course it wasn't like he could stay mad at her for it or anything… they had found Franny after all. All in all she'd been pretty pleased with herself actually, which only meant that he was never going to hear the end of it. Ever.
Ah well, couldn't win 'em all, could he? He was just glad that she'd been pleased with him too for making sure that 'Jackass' got picked up and tossed into a little five by five cell indefinitely…and if the dude happened to have a couple of broken bones and a whole lot of bruises well all the better. There was just no excuse for what he'd done to their Fran. Yup, he couldn't win 'em all… but he'd take the ones he could.
So why was it that he was sleeping on the couch right now? Well because Cal had spread herself out over the bed, wings stretched out so that the entire damned thing was covered. Sure, she looked like an angel. Unfortunately that was exactly why he couldn't muster up the heart to wake her up and move her the hell over. Well, anyway… he was cool with it for now. This way he could sleep with one eye open and hear Sammy if he needed anything for Fran.
Plus… Cal had this habit of waking up at the break of dawn now…and making the most amazing breakfasts. Sleeping on the couch would give him first crack at it. After a week of pissed off Cal and none of that awesome food she could now cook… yeah, one uncomfortable night on the couch? Not such a big deal.
Sam was ecstatic. So goddamned happy he was bursting at the seams, felt like he was going to flat out explode from it. She was back. Nothing else mattered right now. She was back and he wasn't going to let her out of his sight…which was why he was sitting in a chair pushed up against the side of the bed, holding her hand as she slept. By choice he would have preferred to curl up in the bed with her safely tucked in against him. By the time they'd come back though she'd already fallen asleep and he didn't know how she'd react to waking up in his arms. No way to tell considering the number that demon had done on her memory.
Cal had played twenty questions with her in the Impala, trying hard just to get a grasp on her friend. To find a little part of the woman they all knew in the quiet, scared one they'd found. What she'd found instead had been a bit of a shock.
Fran believed her name to be Katherine O'Hara. It was a pseudonym…her favorite one that she liked to use when they were hunting. The name had popped up on their first hunt after the tulpa incident and had stuck ever since.
They'd been on the road for two days straight, headed for New Orleans and a possible zombie issue at a college campus. The four of them in the Impala driving for two days straight…and it was no wonder the girls got a little bored in the backseat. Especially since Dean had put a stop to their reaching over the seat and channel surfing the radio. (hehe, of course he'd thought that Christian rock music station they'd found had been absolutely hilarious…but Dean had obviously had a different opinion on that one.)
Fran had been reading contentedly, curled up on the seat behind him... a biography on Katherine Hepburn's life or something. Cal had teased her a little bit… and then started asking questions. The thing about Fran? Well that overactive imagination of hers made her an amazing story teller. He found out that day that Katherine Hepburn had been one of her role models growing up.
Well, they'd all been surprised when about an hour into the conversation Dean piped his two cents in…even more so when those two cents hadn't been smart-assed or sarcastic. He'd compared Kate Hepburn to Scarlett O'Hara because of her strength and determination when life played hardball. Who the hell knew that Dean even had a clue who Scarlett O'Hara was? Gone With the Wind was about as chick flick as you could get and well Dean? Yeah, he just didn't do chick flicks. Period.
"Thing about women Sammy, they're suckers for a good romantic movie. I might not be a fan of all that chic-flick crap, but I am a big fan of getting laid. That movie? Yeah, a big winner in the 'trying to get laid' department man. Big winner."
Cal hadn't been too impressed with him…even after the cursory "y'know…I uh, mean… back in the day of course…" Fran had got such a kick out of it that when Dean had gone out to doctor her fake student ID card to get her on campus so she could tail the guy they suspected had created the zombies she didn't hesitate.
"You got one in mind, or will any old name do?"
"Dean, I've got the perfect name. Make it Katherine O'Hara."
If looks could kill… well Sam was just really glad they didn't. Dean had, of course, been thoroughly unimpressed and thanks to Cal the name had stuck. Fran's false identity of choice. Now, apparently, the one she thought was her real identity.
Cal hadn't been able to get much out of her. Fran didn't remember much past three weeks ago. Her memory picked up just after her disappearance apparently. As for her past, well she wouldn't say much about what she remembered about that either. What she had talked about made Sam's blood run hot with murderous rage again, even just heard third hand from Cal.
The demon had warped her memory. Fran and Jack had been an item more than a few years back.
She'd been eighteen, and Jack twenty. They'd moved in together during her second year of university… and that's when he got abusive. The first time he hit her, it was one hell of a surprise. Apparently he was a mean drunk. Fran being Fran though…she gave him a second chance. Just one. He had one shot to get his act together and stop drinking if he wanted her to stay in his life. Unfortunately she lived to regret it.
A week after the first time, he came home sloshed out of his mind. The night had ended with Franny in the local emergency room.
Fran had told him the story once, when he'd come across that picture. The one she kept to remind herself. She left the university right after that and that sonofabitch Jack. Went home to her family and took over Chez Henry, the family restaurant. She finished the rest of her courses by correspondence and lived her life in fear because even though she'd left him…Jack kept popping up all over the place. Then one day he got bold. Left her a note…broke into her apartment above the bar and left it dead center of her bed. 'Come home, or I'll make you wish you'd never been born.'
Franny? Well, she went back alright. Just once, after talking to a couple of the local boys who just happened to be cops. Oh she went back alright…with her shotgun. When the police showed up on the scene they found Jack cowering in a corner. One thing Fran did well? Instilling the fear of God in people. She pressed charges and he went to jail for battery and domestic violence.
Thing about that was, that just wasn't the way 'Kate' remembered it. 'Kate' believed that she went back to him because if she hadn't he'd have killed her. Believed that there had been no other way. Fran was the type of woman who found hope in the most hopeless of situations. She believed that strength and determination were what got you out of bad situations…and the occasional sawed-off shotgun or baseball bat didn't hurt either.
That damned yellow-eyed demon, and Jack had shown Fran, his Fran, just exactly what hopeless was. Now it was up to Sam to remind her who she really was. Something told him that once she did Jack was the one who was going to wish he'd never been born.
Until then though he was going to take care of her, this 'Kate', broken shell of the person she once was. He'd love her and keep her safe until she was herself again. Her…and their child…and good god it hit him hard, and not for the first time that night either. She was…He was…They were going to be parents… and she had no idea. That last part being the only part of all of this twisted mess they were stuck in that he just couldn't wrap his head around.
She was pregnant… close to two months along as far as they'd been able to figure…and completely oblivious to the fact that she was. He just hoped that he could reach 'Fran' inside of 'Kate' before she realized what her body must have been trying to tell her for weeks now.
Sometime during the night his eyes drifted closed as his body forced him to get some of the sleep he'd been denying himself for so long now. He could afford to now. Fran was finally home…safe.
When she woke she didn't know where the heck she was. Her first clue that she wasn't where she was supposed to be came before she even opened her eyes. Warm sunlight kissed her face and the scent of something delicious and breakfast-like hung comfortingly in the air. She was afraid to open her eyes and find out that it was just another dream. So instead she lay still, let her skin soak in the sunlight and squeezed her eyes tightly shut. Holding on to the dream as long as she could before Jack came to get her so she could make him breakfast.
Her first clue that maybe…just maybe it wasn't a dream after all? Well it came in the form of a rumbling snore, just one, somewhere to her left. First off…Jack never snored…and second? Jack never, ever slept with her. She cooked and cleaned for him. That was pretty much it. He'd lost interest in her 'that way' a long time ago and she'd been grateful for it ever since. So this loud, decidedly male snoring? Well she didn't know who the heck it could be.
It took every ounce of courage she had to crack open the one eyelid, just wide enough to see where the sound was coming from. She almost didn't recognize him when she did.
Sam. Her Sam. There was no mistaking the face, even through the dark shaggy beard that covered the lower half of his face now. Her Sam, folded over himself in a chair, head resting beside her on the bed and holding her hands in his as he slept.
She couldn't help opening her eyes all the way. Had to look at him, take every last inch of him in before he disappeared again. Except that this time he wasn't going to disappear. Because apparently this time he was real. His shaggy mane of dark hair had gone messy and wild and there were little cuts and bruises on his face and hands. He'd been in a fight recently, she wondered what kind of shape the other guy was in.
The scruff suited him she decided. It made him look a little rough, which he really was. It looked so soft that all she wanted to do was reach out and touch it. Run her fingers over his cheek and his beard to convince herself that yeah…she wasn't dreaming anymore.
Before she knew it her fingers were moving of their own volition, lightly tracing the line of familiar jaw and reveling in the silky soft feel of that beard. He smiled, still sleeping he smiled and turned his face toward the palm of her hand. Tender brush of soft, moist lips in on the callused skin of her palm and all she could do was gasp. It felt good. It felt right. It made her smile. Smiling hadn't come easy in a long time. She didn't know what to think about that.
She heard the soft footfall of socks on carpet stop just outside the door to the room they were in and for just a moment held her breath. A very large part of her still expected Jack to come barging in demanding breakfast and roughly shoving her around. She didn't need to see a face to know it wasn't him. Whoever it was took the time to slowly and quietly open the door, obviously not wanting to wake them up.
His face was familiar too. The man from the bar in her dream, the one who had come barging into her room on Sam's heels. 'I should know this guy' she thought to herself. 'I should know his name...I know his face, and I ought to know his name…but I don't' It was right there, on the tip of her tongue but she couldn't hold on to it.
The smile he gave her when she met his eyes was almost as familiar as Sam's.
"Hey." He'd whispered from the doorway, sleep roughened voice drifting across the room.
"Hey." Her reply soft and hesitant in contrast.
"Hungry?" he'd asked, apparently hell bent on using no more than one word communications.
She just nodded, so he tilted his head. An obvious command for her to follow him wherever he'd been heading.
It took a minute, uncurling her hand from Sam's and crawling out of bed without waking him was tougher than it looked. When she finally joined the man in the doorway she looked back at Sam and felt bad. "Shouldn't we shift him into the bed? He looks so…uncomfortable." Uncomfortable being the nicest way she could think of to say 'twisted like a pretzel'.
"Nah. If we move him he'll wake up. Let's let him sleep, he hasn't done much of that lately."
"Okay."
She stood in the doorway a minute longer, watching Sam sleep and letting the man next to her watch her do it. "Do you, uh…remember anything?"
"Only him." Her eyes never left their target.
"You need to eat." He'd countered gruffly. "Come on down to the kitchen. Cal's cooking and thanks to those new wings of hers it's not coming out toxic waste."
"Thanks…"
"Dean. My name's Dean."
"Thanks Dean."
"No thanks necessary. I would like to see you eat a nice square meal though. I swear kiddo, you look like you haven't eaten in weeks. Lets get some meat on those bones shall we?"
Whether it was the funny eye waggle, the cocky grin or the major bed head that made him look like he was five and getting into mischief she just didn't know. The sound of her affectionate laughter surprised them both. The cocky grin turned into a wide, knowing smile. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and guided her towards the stairs. "Music to my ears kiddo, music to my ears. You're gonna be just fine."
It was just amazing, how a kitchen so big could feel so small. Cal had a theory about that though. There wasn't a room big enough on the planet that could fit four seasoned hunters and a woman with wings comfortably.
It was still pretty weird, looking down at her own hands and seeing them cook like that. None of their usual awkwardness involved…none of the usual smoke and charred food either. It was French toast this morning…with ham…and she'd made up a fruit salad too, because she knew Franny liked that stuff. There was a bowl of it big enough to feed a small army sitting dead center on the table…which was fitting really because they were a small army.
John and Bobby sat side by side pouring over a huge book, quietly debating the merits of protective spells and charms over more potent spells. Funny really watching those two big, burly men studying these things like college kids working towards finals. The pastor Jim was tall and lanky in contrast. Instead of sitting at the table he was standing by the window, watching the drive and the dirt road beyond it. Cal couldn't hear what he was whispering to himself but she read lips well enough to be able to make out latin when she saw it. He'd started with the Ciace Nostru, Lord's prayer and was just now finishing the Sora Maria. Somehow she didn't think that prayer would do much for them in the face of this yellow eyed demon they'd told her about, but she wasn't about to tell the pastor that.
Dean had just come in the room and was just heaping food onto not one, but two plates. "Hey! I know you've been wanting to taste my cooking all week but I mean come on…nobody can eat that much in one sitting. Not even you." She teased him.
"I hate to disappoint you sweetheart but I'm not eating it all in one sitting…I'm gonna stash some of it away in case you get pissed off again." He just barely ducked out of the way of the oven mitt that came flying at him, as he laughed.
"They still sleeping?" John asked him, finally looking up from the book he and Bobby had open between them.
"Sam is. Thank God. Three weeks and I don't think he got more than eight hours the whole time. Fran's cleaning herself up." Then leaning in behind Cal, trying to avoid her wings with a full plate of food in each hand he kissed the side of her neck. "Hope you don't mind but I lent her some of your clothes."
"'Course not. Sam said something about taking her home this morning. He's got to give Amy a call so she can take care of the restaurant and Fran'll have to pack. God only knows how long we'll be on the road this time."
"You can't come with us Dean."
Oh, so Sam was up after all.
"The hell we can't. I'd like to see you try and stop us."
Sam just crossed long arms across wide chest.
"What about Cal?"
"Coming too."
"Dude, she's got wings. When exactly were you planning to track down that fae? While we're driving from one end of the continent to the other?"
"The thought had occurred to me, yeah…and dude, who says I want to get rid of her wings just yet. Have you tasted her cooking lately?"
"So not funny dude. You want I should cut you off again?" Cal glared at him. Sam just stared him down. Damn, he hated when his brother was right. Didn't mean he wasn't going to fight it though.
"No! No way I'm staying behind. Damn it Sam, this isn't just an average salt and burn kind of gig. We're talking about the demon here."
"He's right Dean. If you're gonna come along I need everybody sharp. We need to stay under the radar on this one until the damned thing makes its next move. I hate to say it but there's just no way we can do that with those wings in the mix."
"So what, we just stay here? No. That's just not gonna happen."
"Well that's just too bad Dean, because that's exactly what's going to happen. Bobby's going to hang back with you and Cal to give you a hand with the fae. Sam, Jim and I are going to take Fran back to Jim's and wait it out. Hopefully the hallowed ground of the church will give us an advantage. I don't want you coming to join us until those wings are gone. We can't have strangers showing up at all hours of the day at night, it's just too dangerous given…well everything."
Okay, so he was right about the wings. They really couldn't afford to have people come crawling to the front door at all hours of the day and night because of the damned things. Still…there had to be something they could do to dull the effects, maybe block it completely until this demon business could be taken care of…and he was about to get vocal about it too, except that Fran chose that exact moment to walk into the room.
One look at Sam and both he and Fran were smiling widely. "You're awake." She said simply. He just nodded, speechless. Dean handed her the other plate with a gruff command to 'sit and eat up' because he really was worried about her weight loss. John muttered something that sounded like 'we'll talk about this later Dean' and just like that it was dropped in favor of breakfast.
Well, looked like he and Cal were going to have to haul ass on this little fairy problem of theirs 'cause there was no way he was going to let Sam and their Dad face the damned demon without him.
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