Salt of the Earth Chapter 10
SALT OF THE EARTH—Chapter 10
Two weeks passed. Dean was unsure as to whether he was experiencing gas (not unusual) or movement. He kept up with his duties with Bob. He felt pretty good, actually. He'd felt like his energy had returned more so than in the past and he didn't feel like napping midday. He appreciated Bob's stories, too; the guy had been a prolific hunter in his time and decided to "retire," after a particularly heart-wrenching kill where he had to put a child vampire to rest. He said she couldn't have been more than 4 years old when she was made, and cried and cried when he put her down, and stated that he could still hear her in his sleep. Making a child a vampire was against the rules, and although older vampires had respected it, the newer ones didn't and believed they were creating the Master Hunter—an impulsive innocent that could kill without prejudice, just because they were hungry, and they could lure their prey much easier than haunting in a bar. Undoubtedly, there would be more. "We all have some we can't save," he said, "but when you line a little one up in your sights, the game changes. I hung it up after that. It's dirty and never-ending and I just couldn't do it anymore."
He caught himself watching Abby a little more often, when he could. He brightened when he knew that she would be around. He watched her play with the kids on the ranch and care for the sick. His curiosity and fascination with her wouldn't relent, it seemed, and his eyes gravitated her way no matter where she was in community functions. Big, family-style meals were every weekend and he swore his belly grew eight pant sizes in five days. Not possible,he thought, is this normal? Holy shit! As it turned out, it hadn't grown eight pants sizes in five days, he just ate a lot. Sam would watch as he rubbed his midsection, oftentimes absentmindedly, and just smile.
He noticed Sam, too, paying close attention to Susanna. He would often see them "just talking," or sharing inside jokes and Sam would smile when he talked about her. It was refreshing to know that his brother regained some resilience in relationships, that he could still love even with his nasty history with women, and that maybe his brother actually found a girl he could share much more with than just a dog and a bed…
He and Sam awoke one morning, and as soon as they opened their eyes, they knew something was different at the farm. It seemed as if only half of the volunteers were working, and neither Susanna nor Abby was in sight. Sam advised Dean to stay in the house until he figured out what was going on, and Dean found himself submitting to his brother's will, not because he wanted to, but because of the tone his brother took with him: it was authoritative and commanding and didn't leave room for argument. It was an order. Dads do that…
Dean watched as Sam spoke to David, a forty-something guy who worked closely with Anse on the maintenance of the grounds and the security of the burial grounds. He saw Sam run his fingers over his face and through his hair and David pointing in the direction of a small group of houses across the way. It didn't look like a happy conversation. David's eyes were full of concern. He was usually a pretty jovial guy, always willing to laugh or share his alcohol. His beard was full, just like his belly, and was regarded as one of the most joyful givers on the grounds. He was always known to share in a happy "'Mornin' to ya!" to everyone he saw, even if it meant saying it a hundred times. It was difficult to imagine him being a monster-killing machine.
Sam walked back up onto the porch and through the front door where Dean was eagerly waiting for the news.
"What's going on?"
"Relax. It's not the girls. They're helping a lady have her baby and it's not going well, I guess. I dunno."
Dean pursed his lips. "Is there anything we can do?'
"I don't think so. I guess we just go to work."
They spent the majority of the day working alone. It wasn't easy, but they had gotten enough training to make it a productive shift. News of the difficult labor and delivery had been minimal, and by the end of the work day, they hadn't heard anything from the girls, Anse, or anyone else.
By nightfall, Dean's mind had been spinning all day, and he lost his battle with patience. "I need to find out what's going on. You coming?"
Sam looked at his brother, unsure of whether they should intrude.
"Alright. I'm going." With that, Dean walked out the door.
By the time Sam caught up to him, he was three quarters of the way towards the girls' home, heading in the general vicinity of the expectant mother's home. He couldn't tell what Dean was thinking, but knew his anxiety wasn't just for the baby being born. What he could clearly see was his brother's determination to find out the truth and do something about it, if he could. Dean was also never one to hide from his fears, although, in this case, Sam wasn't sure if facing them was the wisest option…
They arrived at the woman's home and were surprised to see so many other volunteers outside in the yard, on the porch and in and out of the house. Searching for a familiar face, Dean eyed the crowd and saw Gael, sitting in a dark corner of the front porch. He sat with his hands folded in front of him, his elbows on his knees and his head was down. He looked up at the brothers approached.
Dean's eyes were wide with concern. "What's happenin'?"
Gael sat up. "The baby's gone. Marisa hemorrhaged. I don't know more than that."
Sam took in a deep breath and puffed his cheeks. He made eye contact with Dean, trying to communicate some kind of comfort to his shocked and frightened brother. "I'm so sorry."
Gael looked up at him and nodded his head. "We all are. Thanks for coming."
Both had learned in the past weeks, even though their introduction to Gael had been a little rough, he actually considered the population of the ranch as his family. He shared joy with them, he grieved with them, and he protected them if the situation called for it. He was more human than some humans Sam knew.
Dean swallowed hard and looked around. No monster problems, no possessions, no hunting, no evil, but grief still hits hard. Demons, I get…people problems are harder.
"Do you know where the girls are?"
"Abby's in the back. She wanted to be alone. Susie's watching Marisa." He looked at Dean. "You might be able to provide some comfort."
Dean turned to his brother and Sam nodded back. "Mind if I sit?"
Gael moved over and Sam sat with him. Neither spoke.
Dean rounded the back of the house and caught sight of Abby. She was sitting on a swing in the dark, wiping her eyes with a well-worn tissue. He knelt in front of her, and not saying a word, they embraced and held each other for what seemed like eternity, both holding on for dear life, both the lost and unborn.
SPN SPN SPN SPN SPN SPN SPN SPN SPN SPN SPN SPN SPN SPN
The next few days were long and hard. There seemed to be a cloud over the ranch, and everyone who looked to the heavens struggled to see past the storm of grief. As much as Dean wanted to attend the funeral, he couldn't bring himself to look at the tiny casket, or the grieving mom. It was somewhat of a comfort that the little one didn't need to be salted and burned on this land. The blessing that covered it assured that the dead would truly rest in every meaning of the word.
Abby and her sister seemed to recover well, although at times Sam would catch them tearing up when they talked amongst themselves about the birth, what went wrong and what could have been done differently. The answer always was the same: nothing. Nothing could have been done any differently by Marisa or those who were responsible for her treatment. The girls were incredibly skilled at their trade—they were good nurses, had excellent training in both emergencies and midwifery.
Sam and Dean's concern over Dean's condition and the twins was more worrisome now than ever. Neither had considered the physical challenges and danger of their—predicament. Cas assured Dean that he was healthy, as were the children, and although the labor would mirror that of a woman delivering her first child (with the exception of the actual delivery), there was little chance of injury to either he or the babies, provided he stay on the ranch and maintain good contact with his brother and the angel.
Hiatus week was approaching fast, and the brothers found themselves in the midst of a celebration they had never been part of before. All but necessary work on the ranch was suspended, and the residents got down to good, old-fashioned baking and canning. This was bigger than Christmas, Dean thought at least once. All the ranchers had waited for this week all year long—the crops had been planted, grown, cultivated, and harvested, and now was time to rest and enjoy. The week ended with families hosting various parties and toasting and roasting each other, telling stories and laughing.
"Can I walk you home?" Dean asked Abby at the end of the night. He and Sam had stayed to help clean up after the meal and party for the kids.
"I'd have been mad if you didn't."
They walked arm in arm the whole way from the community center back to the girls' home, and when they arrived on the porch, Abby asked Dean if he would like to come in. Neither was ready for the end of the night to come.
Dean, during the past few weeks, had become more and more aware of his growing condition. His attraction to Abby was getting harder to delay, and especially since it was mutual.
"I gotta go," he smiled. "Frederick wanted me to give him driving lessons tomorrow."
"Frederick? The red-head? Are you crazy?" She giggled.
"Yeah, well, yeah, I guess. I taught Sam how to drive, and he was an exceptionally slow learner. I think I'll be okay."
They stood for a minute. Both drew in a breath. Neither moved, but somehow they ended up cheek to cheek, and Dean moved in for…
The twins. Dean lost his breath and moved his hand to his belly. There was no mistaking this…tumble he felt. It wasn't gas. It was bone and foot and hand and baby. He smiled, then looked into Abby's confused eyes.