Chapter 11
Vanessa and Aaron Russell showed up at Father Andrews' place that evening after Lisa and Ben had returned. Lisa saw them as they came through the door: a middle-aged couple with abundant gray hairs and more than a few wrinkles, but with very pleasant and comfortable smiles. They were so not what Lisa had previously experienced as far as hunters went.
"So you're Lisa," Vanessa said, coming forward and squeezing the younger woman in a grandmotherly hug before she could resist. "Father Andrews told us all about you. And this must be Ben." She shook his hand, mindful of the teenage-boy resistance to hugs.
Aaron was quieter than his wife, but his grip was firm when he shook Lisa's hand. He turned almost immediately to Father Andrews, and the two men went up the stairs, talking to each other.
Lisa blinked. In spite of the warmth and the friendliness, she had felt Vanessa's powerful upper-body strength in that hug, and she noticed the limber way that the couple moved. Beneath that comforting surface, there were hunters hidden after all.
After an hour or two of talking and sorting things out, a consensus was reached: Lisa and Ben would go with Vanessa and Aaron to their farm, far out in the northwest corner of Missouri near Chillicothe, and stay there temporarily until Father Andrews could track down the Winchesters.
"So you know Dean," Vanessa said in a low tone as she and Lisa stood in the hallway while Ben and Aaron packed the suitcases into the Russells' van. They had decided to leave Lisa's car in St. Louis: Father Andrews would take care of it.
"Yes." Lisa stood with her arms folded, her eyes worried and tired, watching her son. "That's kind of what got us into this mess."
Vanessa reached out and squeezed her arm. "It's funny, the way things work out," she said gently. "If Aaron and I hadn't lost our daughter when she was four months old, we probably never would have been hunters. I still miss her and blame myself every day, but we've done a lot of good in the world because of her. You still have your son, Lisa."
Lisa dropped her arms to her sides. "You're right," she said quietly. "I'm sorry about your daughter."
Ben and Aaron were talking outside, and it warmed Lisa's heart to see her son responding positively to the man. They seemed already to understand each other.
"We've never met the Winchester boys," Vanessa said. "Aaron knew John, way back in the day. There were stories about the boys afterwards…not all good, you understand, Lisa. Word gets around. That's why we're going to have trouble finding them."
Lisa nodded. "Father Andrews hinted at that earlier," she said. "But I know Dean. He's…" she paused. What could she say? A good man? A flawed man? He'd betrayed her by whitewashing her memories. He'd been so broken. "I still believe in him," she said finally.
"I know." Vanessa's smile was deep and reassuring. "That's why we're helping you."
The farm near Chillicothe was an oasis of peace for Lisa and Ben. Neither of them had realized how much they needed that. The knife-edge of a hunter's life was still there: Aaron spent the evenings teaching Lisa and Ben self-defense and fighting skills, and he and his wife disappeared on hunting trips at least once a week, but it was as if nothing evil could come near that beautiful land where the creeks ran brightly through fields covered with snow.
It was winter now without doubt—weeks had passed, and Father Andrews' search for the Winchesters seemed frustrated at every turn. "It's hard to find anybody who knows them," he told Lisa over the phone. "Everybody who used to know them is dead."
Even Aaron, who had reached out through his own contacts, came up empty. The Winchesters had vanished, although there was always just a hint or a rumor to keep the search going: a name (Kevin Tran?) or a place (Oregon?).
Bobby was dead. They had established that very early on, and Lisa had winced when she heard the news. Poor Dean. Bobby was his father, really: she remembered the interaction between the two men, and the affection in the gruff old hunter's eyes. It must have torn Sam and Dean up, both of them; dear God, did they need more pain in their lives?
Vanessa had been right when she said they would have trouble finding the Winchesters. Lisa knew that more than once, a phone call to a hunter would end abruptly as soon as Father Andrews or Aaron asked about the Winchesters. It seemed to be a dangerous subject.
"We'll find them," Vanessa said brightly to Lisa one day. They were in the kitchen, making yeast rolls; Vanessa was trying her best to teach Lisa the finer points of baking. They were both up to their elbows in flour.
"What if they're dead?" Lisa asked. That thought had been occurring to her with more and more intensity over the past weeks.
"They're not." Vanessa kneaded her dough expertly.
"They could be." Lisa blew a strand of hair away from her face. "We've been looking for a while now, and…nothing. If they're gone, Ben and I have to move on. You've been so kind to us, but we can't impose on you forever."
"You're not imposing." Vanessa's voice was brisk. "You don't know how wonderful it's been, having young people around the house. And the help with the cattle and the farm work alone has been such a relief for me and Aaron."
Lisa glanced out the window. Her son was in the barn, she knew, helping to feed the cows. "I feel so safe here," she said, and was surprised to find tears welling up in her eyes. "I haven't had to worry about Ben."
"We've got this place warded better than any other safe house we know of," Vanessa said, plopping rolls onto a pan. "Don't think that you're a burden to us, Lisa. You're not the first person to stay here, and you won't be the last. This is what we do. Here, you need to add some flour to that dough. It's getting all sticky."
An hour or so later, Aaron and Ben came in for dinner. They were all sitting down in the softly-lit kitchen when the phone rang. Aaron's eyes met Vanessa's in their usual silent communication, and then he went out to answer it in the living room.
"Did you get that fence fixed today, Ben?" Vanessa asked, serving him a heaping plate of roast beef and mashed potatoes.
"Yes, ma'am." Ben dug in to his food. His cheeks were still red from the cold. "We got that fixed this morning, and then we repaired the chicken coop and brought some hay bales down from the shed in the upper field."
"That's good." Vanessa smiled, although her eyes strayed towards the living room where Aaron was still on the phone.
"Ben," Lisa said, "we're going to have to go over some of your schoolwork tonight. We've been slacking off a little bit, and you need to keep up."
Ben grimaced good-naturedly. "Okay, Mom." He shoveled his mashed potatoes into his mouth, and Lisa smiled. It was all so pleasant, so calm…but still, Aaron was taking a while on the phone.
He came back in after a few more minutes, and when he saw Lisa's hopeful eyes he shook his head. "Nothing on the Winchesters," he said. "It's a job." He turned to his wife.
"Will it keep until you eat your dinner?" Vanessa gestured at him to sit, and he pulled out his chair and eyed the roast beef with appreciation.
"It's in Kansas," he said, eating quickly. "Near Lebanon. Sounds like a haunting, Van."
"You want to go tonight or tomorrow morning?" his wife asked.
"Tonight, if possible." He glanced at the clock. "Someone died."
Vanessa nodded, her face growing serious. She glanced at Lisa and Ben. "You'll take care of everything for us here?"
"Of course we will."
The Russells moved quickly: inside of thirty minutes they were packed and ready to go. Lisa and Ben came out to the front porch to see them off. The rear lights of the van glowed in the darkness like red, angry eyes, and Lisa shivered.
"Come on, Ben," she said, putting her arm around her son. "Let's go start your schoolwork before we have to check on the cows."
The next morning was clear and sunny; the snow melted and dripped from the roof of the house, and Lisa and Ben's boots were caked with mud by the time they finished the barn work and came back to the house. Lisa was sipping on a cup of coffee, thinking about starting lunch, when the phone rang.
She had never heard Vanessa's voice like that before; it chilled her to the bone. "Lisa?"
"What's wrong?" She set down her coffee.
"It's Aaron." Vanessa's voice caught, just a little, but she swallowed and went on. "He's hurt bad. He's in surgery now. It was the job—it was worse than we thought."
"Oh, Vanessa." Lisa took a deep breath. "What do you want me to do?"
"Nothing." The woman was near tears, but bravely holding them back. "Just—just take care of the farm for us. I've got to go finish the job, as soon as Aaron makes it out of surgery."
"Are you crazy?" Lisa asked, her voice rising slightly. "You're not going to go back alone."
"There's people dying out here," Vanessa said, regaining control of her voice. "Aaron and I have talked about this. We promised each other never to leave a job unfinished, no matter what happens. It wasn't a haunting, it was a demon. We were careless going in, but I can fix it. I can take care of that she-devil."
"No. It could kill you," Lisa protested.
"That's one of the risks of the job," Vanessa said. She managed a small chuckle. "Listen, Lisa. If Aaron pulls through, he's going to be out of it for a while. I told the hospital that you were my daughter, so in case you don't hear from me, you drive out here and bring him home, all right? I'm going to go back out and fry that demon."
"Vanessa…" Lisa began, but the phone clicked off. She shook it impatiently, then hung it up. Her mind was working fast; she'd noticed that before, that clear, rapid chain of thought when something went terribly wrong.
"Ben!" she called.
"What is it, Mom?" His eyes were large and serious; he heard the urgency in her voice.
"The Russells are in trouble. I'm going out to Lawrence right now." She was already hurrying to the living room, to the safe where the hunters kept a huge amount of demon-fighting weapons. "I can't let Vanessa do this by herself."
"I'm coming with you, Mom."
"No, Ben. I mean it." Lisa turned with a bottle of holy water in her hand. "This is too dangerous."
"I can't let you go out there by yourself!" Ben protested. "The last thing Dean said to me, he told me to take care of you. I have to go with you."
Lisa shook her head. "I'll be fine, Ben. If you come with me, I'll be worried about you, and I can't have anything else on my mind out there. I need you—we all need you—to stay here and take care of the farm. You understand that, right?"
She met his eyes, and he must have seen the absolute determination in them. "Are you sure?" he asked, and she knew she had won. At least this time.
"I'm sure, Ben. Listen, I'll call you as soon as I get there." She kissed his forehead.
The only vehicle left on the property was the old farm truck, a stick shift from about 1985. It rumbled to life and Lisa threw it in gear, waving her hand to her son as she drove out of the gate.
On the long straight highway to Lebanon, she kept her foot to the floor. Vanessa and Aaron had done so much for them, she thought. There was no way she was going to let them die out there at the hands of a demon.
She drove with a bottle of holy water and an iron knife in the glove compartment, the toolbox in the back filled with salt, silver bullets, guns and chains. She drove to save the life of a friend, praying she wasn't too late. Was this, she wondered as she drove, was this what it felt like to be a hunter?