Author's Note: Shocker in the last one…sorry if I killed anyone…anyway, we get to see Sam's reaction, and moving into the next case….More of Paige's and Ally this time. Like I said, new case, but of mystery, slight thriller…enjoy.
Disclaimer: Own my OC's and original plotlines, and that's it…
Revised 27 April 2014.
Chapter Twelve
Fatherhood and Pending Battle
Sam stared open-mouthed, every part of his body turning to ice. "Come again?" he croaked. He was dreaming. He had to be. There was no way this was real. But it was real; he'd known deep in his chest that the boy was his from the first moment he'd laid eyes on him.
Ally looked exasperated. "Sam, for God's sake, I just told you."
"I…I…I have a son?" he breathed. Son. He had a son. A living, breathing, mopheaded, chubby, drooling son.
Levi looked up at him, his dark brown eyes thoughtful as he grinned, dimples flashing in those chubby little cheeks.
"Oh my God. I…" he breathed, pain arching through him like an electric shock as tears stung his eyes. This baby, this beautiful little boy, was his son. He was a father. And he hadn't even known. Hadn't been there for one second up until now. The thought of Ally going through all of that alone damn near ripped what parts of his heart had survived losing Jess right out of his chest. Except she hadn't been alone, she'd had this Noah person.
"Didn't know, Sam," Ally finished for him, her voice heavy as she grimaced and sat on the railing, settling Levi in her lap. "I was afraid, when I found out. I wanted to tell you so bad, but…when I finally worked up the nerve…"
…you were already with Jessica. The unspoken sentence hung in the air between them.
Further despair and guilt weighed down on Sam, widening the hole within his heart and soul he darkly referred to as his abyss. His eyes fell on Levi – his son, his precious baby son. He drank in his image as if he were dying of thirst; like he'd never get to see him again. His gaze memorized every part of him – his almond shaped golden brown eyes; the curve of his round and rosy little cheeks; the adorable dimples that flashed every time he smiled; his little upturned nose.
"Why?" he breathed, anger stirring deep in his gut when he realized he'd been robbed of the opportunity to ever be a father. "Why didn't you tell me?"
"I couldn't, Sam." Ally massaged her temples with her free hand. She sounded tired, as if all the fight had just gone out of her all at once, leaving her deflated in its wake. "I saw it as my burden to bear. I…I couldn't bear the thought of you leaving her just because I was too stupid to use birth control. So I kept it to myself. I carried him, gave birth to him, raised him…I thought that adding him to your life would take away everything you ever wanted; would rob you of a life with her. I know you Sam. You would have chosen me, married me, because of this little boy. I couldn't and wouldn't force you to make that choice, nor would I have been able to live with myself for the rest of my life. So I did the only thing I could, the only real option that I had. I chose to do this without you." She smiled without humor. "I cared about you enough to want you to be happy, Sam."
Sam's voice rose despite his best efforts to keep his temper in check. His emotions were like a whirlwind, leaving him feeling like he'd been chewed up and spit out and then run over by a truck. "That little boy is my son too, Ally. You had no right to keep him from me!"
Ally released a long breath. It had been a hard decision to finally tell him, and she hadn't even talked to Noah about it. He was going to be upset with her. Now, with his entire frame rigid with tension, she regretted her decision. Even with the way he towered over her, though, his eyes dark with anger as he glared down at her like some worldly interpretation of an avenging angel, she couldn't deny that she still cared for him at least a little bit.
"I know that, Sam," she said evenly, her heart breaking all over again. She shifted Levi to her shoulder and rubbed his back, feeling him start to drowse off as his body relaxed. "But next Wednesday, I'm going back to Denver, back to Noah and my life with him."
"And leaving me."
"Takes one to know one, Sam." Ally's tone was frosty.
Sam just crossed his arms and backed up until he was leaning against the wall facing her. "So you'll never let me see him again?"
"Of course I will. Don't think that I wouldn't, not for a second." She bit her lip, looking down at her knees for a long moment. "You're welcome in his life, Sam. But with hunting and everything, I just…I need to talk to Noah about it. We're a family, and while his DNA is half of yours, as far as he is concerned Noah is his daddy and I won't take that from him."
The thing that hurt the most was that, well, she was right. Being around him was dangerous. Especially with the weird dreams he'd been having lately, about people dying…dreams that sometimes came true. And he knew a demon had killed his mom in his nursery. Not in his parent's room, not in Dean's room, but in his nursery. The mere thought of it made his skin crawl at some long-buried, blurry memory that, try as he might, he couldn't conjure back up. All he knew is it was bad, and that thing had been evil. He'd never been in this baby's life, not for a second, hadn't even really cared all that much about him one way or another until she'd told him. Noah, whoever he was, had been there through every milestone, every moment.
"I understand." His voice was soft, so soft he was surprised that she heard him. He cleared his throat. "But if you'll allow me just t-to…" he stuttered slightly on the phrase, "to get to know him?"
"Of course, Sam. I'm going to visit a lot over the holidays, and this summer. And you can call anytime you want, I'll give you my number. But, as much as it pains me to say it, I think it's just safer for everyone as a whole if you aren't there, you know, like…all the time."
Sam nodded. "So, uh, this is going to sound random, but he was born June twenty-fifth, right?"
"Yeah, he's a little over a month younger than little Sammy."
He leaned forward, his eyes intense as he locked gazes with her. "Do you remember what you were doing Christmas night?"
"Sleeping, Sam," she replied with a grin. "What else would I be doing?"
Unease curled in his gut. "Nothing."
Sam rolled his shoulders in a vain attempt to release some of the tension building between his shoulder blades. It helped, a little. But he couldn't alleviate the feeling in his gut – it felt like he'd swallowed acid, and it had settled in his stomach and was eating him from the inside out. He couldn't help but wonder…what had the demon done to Levi without him there to protect him? That was, of course, assuming that he'd even done anything at all.
He'd worry about it later. He rubbed the back of his neck. "Would…would you mind letting me actually hold him?" he asked shyly, unashamed of the fact.
"Of course not." She shifted the now-sleeping boy so that he was cradled in her arms, and then handed him over, holding her breath as she watched the first real reaction between them as father and son.
Sam just stared down in wonder at the little person held securely in his powerful arms, grinning foolishly over how long his son's eyelashes were where they brushed against his round little cheeks. He sat down on the swing and was content to just hold him with joyful tears brimming in his eyes, watching his little chest rise and fall with each breath and the way his eyes flickered beneath his eyelids as he dreamed. Ally sat beside him, her eyes not on her son but on the father, who was completely oblivious to anything but their son, now sleeping peacefully and with complete abandon, snuggled for the very first time into his biological father's warm chest.
Ally just wished she had a camera. It really was a beautiful moment.
Sam felt like he was vibrating out of his skin. Ally had left about an hour ago to go back to the bed and breakfast and he'd taken a seat at the kitchen table, processing all this new information for the past sixty minutes.
He had a son.
He was a father.
It was still impossible for him to wrap his mind around it. He looked up when the kitchen door opened, hearing Paige and Dean's laughing voices.
"I can't believe you're still teasing me about that," Dean was saying.
"You're delusional if you think I'm ever going to stop teasing you about that, you doofus."
They both paused when they saw him sitting there. He had no idea what his face looked like, but judging by the worry on their faces, it was bad.
"Holy shit, Sam, what happened?" Dean demanded, rushing over to press the back of his hand to his forehead and bend down to look him in the eye. "You look like you saw a ghost. Sam?"
"Can I talk to you?" he managed to croak.
Paige looked worried, but she seemed to understand. "I'm going to go get Sammy from Chuck and put him down for his nap, let me know if you need anything," she said quietly, offering him a smile before closing the kitchen door behind her.
Dean pulled up a chair, sitting with his knees touching Sam's. "What's up?" he said seriously.
"I . . ." Sam trailed off, having no idea how to start.
"Is this about how you know Ally?" he wondered, crossing his arms and leaning back in his chair. "She didn't look surprised to see you. I mean, she didn't look thrilled, but she didn't look as shocked as you did, either."
"I . . . yeah, I don't really blame her for that one," he admitted, clearing his throat a few times. "I was at Stanford, she was at USC. She'd taken accelerated classes, so she was ahead of me even though we were the same age. We both went to a summer law program at Yale, and we were Debate partners, and, well. We clicked, I guess. It was a summer romance, I loved her, but at the end of the day we were going to be on opposite ends of the state. So we broke it off, it was a mostly mutual thing, I didn't really want to. I was pretty upset about it, until my friend Brady introduced me to his friend Jessica. It helped, I guess. I liked Jessica a lot, and we hit it off, and then we were dating. I just, I . . ."
"Breathe," Dean suggested gently, squeezing his knees. "In and out, there you go. Breathe, Sammy."
"Sammy is a chubby twelve year old. It's Sam," he snapped.
Dean just grinned and motioned for him to continue.
"I never saw her again, I guess I thought it would be better to treat it like ripping off a Band-aid, quick and all at once, you know?" He inhaled deeply, exhaled. "I, she told me something. Before she left."
Sam fell silent, unable to force the rest of the words past his suddenly tight throat.
Eyebrows arching upwards, Dean's expression clearly said, okay, and?
"And, she, uh. Well. Apparently . . . Levi. He, uh, he's mine."
Dean blinked. Stared at Sam, blinked again. "I," he started, then stuttered to a halt. "Wait a second. Yours. As in, you're his father?"
"Uh, his biological father, yeah."
"Holy shit."
"You're telling me."
His brother looked kind of angry. "Did you know?" he demanded.
"No!" Sam yelped. "I had no idea. I mean, I guess I didn't really deserve to know, and I was with Jessica by the time she would have known, and I just. I feel like shit, Dean, I wasn't there. At all. What do I do?"
"What do you want to do?"
"I'd like to get to know Levi. Have him in my life."
"What did Ally say?" Dean questioned, staring down at his knees. His expression was one of extreme conflict. He'd loved Levi as long as the little guy had existed, loved him because Ally was family and Paige loved her, because Noah loved her. After her and Noah's big blowout fight, he'd hated her with a passion, and still hated to think about seeing Noah in so much pain. But they were starting to fix it, starting to patch everything back together, and they were a united front when it came to Levi. They both loved him, and he loved them, and they were a little family that just worked. And now Sam was there, and he didn't know how to feel, because Noah was one of his best friends, but Sam was his brother, and apparently Levi was his nephew by blood, not just by his own personal feelings that Levi was as good as his nephew anyway.
"She said she needs to talk to Noah, but that I am his biological father, that I deserve to be in his life. She was guilty for keeping me away from him, but I just. She let someone else raise him, Dean. Without even telling me."
"She was afraid," he said quietly. "You're an honorable guy, Sammy, I know you. You would have left Jessica and married her, even if all three of you were miserable. She took that choice away from you, but, well. I don't know, man." He made a face, scrubbing a hand over his stubble.
"I know she was. I just, I don't know how to feel."
"You want to be a part of his life, right?"
"Right."
Dean sighed and shrugged, holding his hands out. "Then, I guess. . .you start from there. Give her some space to figure things out, she's probably scared for Levi right now. He knows Noah as his dad, Sam, and always has. Having three parents instead of two can be a blessing, but she's got the right to decide how to do it."
Sam nodded, relieved that Dean seemed to understand. "I know. I just. I wanted you to know."
A faint smile curved his lips. "You're a dad, Sam," he said, with slight awe. "Maybe sooner than you would have liked, but. He exists. And he's a part of you."
Sam felt himself smiling too. "Yeah, I guess he is, isn't he?"
When Paige came downstairs from putting Sammy down for a nap, her husband was sitting at the kitchen table, elbow propped on the wood and chin cradled in his palm, staring down at the tabletop.
"Dean?" she prompted, going to him and putting a hand on his warm shoulder. He looked up at her, blinking a few times before he smiled tiredly.
"Hey," he greeted her, scooting his chair back so he could pull her down into his lap and wrap his arms around her.
She hugged her arms around his shoulders, not saying anything when he buried his face in her neck and just stayed there.
"Did you need a hug?" she teased quietly, running a hand along the knobs of his spine, across his shoulders, weaving her fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck.
"Yeah," he admitted, his breath warm on her skin.
"What did Sam want to talk about?" Paige wondered, pressing her cheek to the top of his head.
He finally pulled back at that, cupping her jaw in one hand and just looking at her the way he did sometimes, focused and intense and fascinated.
She blushed slightly under the scrutiny but didn't look away. "What?" she murmured self-consciously.
He just shook his head, leaned in, pressed their lips together, warm and tender. They got lost in it, breathing the same air until he pulled back, swept her hair back off her brow. "Sam wanted to talk to me about something Ally told him this afternoon," he told her softly, thumb stroking along her jawline.
"And?" she pressed, trailing her fingers along the back of his neck.
"Well," Dean said slowly, biting his lip and seeming to hesitate on how to continue. "I know who Levi's biological father is."
Paige just stared at him for a long moment until it clicked, her jaw dropping open. "You're kidding," she gasped.
"Not even a little bit," he said, slipping a hand under her shirt to stroke the skin of her lower back.
"Holy shit."
"That's what I said, too."
All of a sudden, she looked stricken. "Oh my god, does Noah know?" she whispered in horror, hand going to her mouth.
"I have no idea, babe," he admitted tiredly, rubbing his eyes. "What I'd like to know is, when exactly did our lives morph into a soap opera? I feel like we could call it The Real Housewives of Thunder Creek."
Paige just stared at him in shock, and then they were both laughing, until they were clinging to each other and gasping for air because seriously, how was this their life.
Thunder Creek, Wyoming
November 27, 2005
Paige sighed and watched the Impala disappear at the end of the darkening drive. Her mind was on Dean and the look they'd shared before he'd ducked into the Impala and started the engine. It wasn't the first time she'd watched him leave without knowing if she was ever going to see him again, and it certainly wouldn't be the last.
It was something she'd always been used to – she'd grown up a hunter, known since the moment she was old enough to understand that death was a part of their lives. She ached to go after him, and would without a moment's hesitation–if it weren't for the beautiful child in her arms and the precious life sheltered in her womb.
As a little girl, she had watched people sob in grief, and had never really understood. For her, it was reality that every time her family walked out the door, there was a very large chance that they weren't ever going to come back. But for normal people, it was almost never like that. They didn't live with death as a constant companion, a shadow that loomed over every aspect of their lives, lurking at every turn, waiting greedily to snatch away what happiness they had managed to hold onto.
Ally was shaking her head in disbelief from her vantage point on the porch swing, one foot pushing off against the ground, the gentle creak the only sound in the sudden silence following the absence of the Impala's growl. "I don't know how you do it."
Talk about calling the kettle black. "Painfully." Paige spoke in a clipped tone. "It's not like I have a choice. This is my life, Ally."
She shrugged. "Not a life I would have chosen, that's all I'm saying."
"I didn't choose it." Paige spun on her heel and stalked back into the house, setting her son in the playroom with Klaus as a watchful guard before moving to the kitchen, every part of her twitching with the need to do something, anything. She needed to spar, that's what she needed to do. Too bad for her Jared wouldn't, not when she was pregnant, anyway. She could go running. Or hell, even shooting. Unfortunately, these things were not allowed for pregnant people, because they were dangerous. Her idiot cousins treated her like she hadn't been sparring with Navy SEALs and Marines and Delta boys from the tender age of seven; like she wasn't an expert marksman in every rifle or sidearm known to man. Quite frankly, it was damn irritating. She was sick of being treated like porcelain already, and she was hardly even two and a half months pregnant.
And then there was Ally. Her supposed best friend, who knew about hunting and her family's involvement in it, but who actually understood virtually nothing about it at all. The same "best friend" who had neglected to tell her all these months that her godson was actually really her nephew, and had never even told the man she was in love with who her son's biological father was.
She growled at the thought and headed for the kitchen, needing a knife in her hand. Maybe she'd make Dean's favorite chicken. Or maybe, she'd stick it in her best friend's throat, for having the gall to assume that she'd chosen this life of pain and fear and misery and heartache. Most damn ignorant statement she'd ever heard.
Sighing theatrically, Ally followed her friend into the kitchen. "I didn't mean to make you mad," she said hesitantly. "It's just…you never did anything to be anything but a hunter." She grimaced as the jumbled sentence came out.
"Don't even start all that self-righteous crap with me, Allyson Nicole Baraldi," Paige warned as she jabbed her index finger in her friend's face. Her blue eyes were steely with anger. "You are as much a part of this world as I am, now."
Ally was indignant. "I most certainly am not!"
"You most certainly am are, and have been since the second you made the decision to have sex with Sam Winchester. You got pregnant, Ally, with his baby. And now, that baby is drawn into the craptastic rollercoaster ride that is the Winchester family." Paige's tone was even and devoid of all emotion. Her eyes belayed the true depth of her distress, making Ally instantly guilty for not telling her friend the parentage of her son the moment she knew she was pregnant with him.
"I'm sorry."
"Sorry doesn't cut it."
"I didn't mean to hurt you, Paige."
"Yeah, well, you did. Good for you."
"Damn it, you're like my sister! I love you like you're my sister!"
"Well, you've got a goddamn funny way of showing it! Do you really love Noah, Ally, or are you just stringing him along again? Are you going to dump him like a hot potato and kick him out of Levi's life like you tried to do before?"
"Of course not!" Ally shouted, tears in her eyes. "I love him. Levi loves him!"
They stood staring at each other, their chests heaving. Golden brown warred with stormy blue as they glared at each other.
Paige sighed heavily, deafening in the silence. "Look, I'm sorry," she said, in a low voice. "It's just that this family drives me absolutely crazy sometimes. I don't like seeing anyone get hurt."
Ally was shaking her head frantically. "No, I'm sorry," she insisted, wiping a tear from her eye. "I wanted to tell you so bad. But I was afraid, Paige, I was afraid that you'd tell Dean and that he'd tell Sam, and then my already fragile world would come crashing down around my ears." She forced herself not to cry; she was drained as it was, crying now wouldn't help. "How the hell am I supposed to tell Noah?"
"Just tell him the truth, Ally. That's all he's ever cared about. He's been waiting for you to trust him enough to tell him."
There was a crash from the living room followed by a loud yelp and Sammy's screaming cry, and both of them froze, turning towards the sound.
"Sammy!" she gasped, rushing over to the playpen to scoop him up into her arms. "God, don't scare mommy like that. Hush that crying now, you're fine."
Sammy's crying only increased in volume. She looked him over quickly for injuries, finding him fine and brushing the hair off his forehead – Dean's forehead – with gentle fingers. Since he was calm now, she set him back in the playpen.
Ally stepped around her friend the bookcase set against the wall and lifted up the remnants of a glass picture frame. "It's okay," she called reassuringly. "It looks like Klaus might have accidentally knocked this off the bookcase with his tail."
Klaus lifted his great head at the last comment, ears cocking forward at the sound of his name. He looked at Ally for a minute, before dropping his head back to the carpet and watching them with the alertness of a guard.
Paige frowned and stepped up beside her friend. "What picture did he knock off?"
"One of a bunch of guys, look." Ally pointed to the only familiar face in the picture. "Isn't that Jared and Chris?"
"Yeah." Her eyes traveled the path from the door to the playpen, brow furrowed in thought. "Huh. Weird. Klaus would have had to move awfully fast to get all the way over there – " she pointed to where he was laying calmly on the carpet beside the playpen gate – "from over here." She pointed at the ground beneath her boots.
"Yeah, weird. He's fast, though. Right?"
Come on, baby girl. Klaus is fast but he's not that fast, Chris' voice said mockingly in her head. I was trying to get your attention. Something bad is about to happen. The Pack is coming.
"Paige?" Ally said, nudging her gently. Paige seemed to be in some kind of trance, eyes glazed over, and it was freaking her out.
Paige was staring distractedly out the window, her eyes unconsciously turned towards the northern border of her lands, the border that merged with the southern border of Jared's lands. It was pitch black and impossible to see a thing, but she knew exactly where to look. There was a feeling of wrongness building within her gut, making her go tense in reaction. Something was wrong, very, very wrong. And it wasn't just Chris' voice in her head telling her that.
The window was open. She stepped clearer, straining to hear, holding up her hand to silence any sound Ally would have heard. All she heard was silence, broken only by the soft sway of a gentle breeze through the fields.
And then she heard it, faintly in the distance. So quiet, she never would have detected it unless she'd been specifically listening for it. Barking. And not just barking – the frantic, deep barking that she instantly recognized as the way the dogs alerted to danger. That barking grew steadily louder, and suddenly, Klaus leapt to his feet and was at her side in an instant, lips curled back from his teeth.
Sammy started crying again, and Ally scooped him up, holding him tight in reaction to the tension thrumming so tightly in the room she could have cut it with a knife. "Paige, what's happening?"
Alarms blared, startling her so bad she screamed, making her nephew cry even harder. Heart pounding, she rubbed his back soothingly and rocked back and forth, bouncing him slightly in an effort to calm him down. She stared at the ceiling and the source of the alarms, as Paige looked down at Klaus, one hand resting on the top of his great head.
"Proximity alert. Northern border." The voice made Ally jump, and she chastised herself. It was just a damn alarm system. A loud one, but just an alarm system.
"What's going on?" she shouted over the din, frustrated when Paige didn't answer. Her face was drained of all color, pasty white beneath her tan, showing the dark circles smudged beneath her eyes. She was looking outside as if staring death right in the face. And that scared the hell out of her, because Paige was as tough as nails – she was a soldier, a warrior; she wasn't afraid of anything, damn it, and never had been. She did something to a panel by the stairs and the alarms stopped as suddenly as they'd started.
"The mountains," Paige said, voice far away. "My god, they're coming down from the mountains." She latched onto Ally's arm so suddenly that she jumped out of her skin in surprise. "Quickly! Follow me."
Ally hastened to obey, struggling to keep up with her friend as she bounded three at a time up the stairs, Sammy's weight heavy in her arms. "Slow down!" she begged. "What's going on?"
"Intruders over the northern border," Paige said, shoving the clothes out of the way in her huge walk-in closet. "We installed that security system four years ago after John Winchester warned us they might come for revenge. God, we were so stupid. The cattle, how did we not think the cattle were suspicious? Those tracks were way too big to be wolves, and besides why would wolves venture this far south of the safety of the mountains."
"I have no idea what you're talking about," Ally told her, watching her with wide eyes.
Paige's fingers expertly punched the keys of an electronic combination lock fastened to a silver safe, a safe that apparently materialized right out of the wall, and that Ally had never seen before. It was literally the size of a door. With a soft click, it swung open on well-oiled hinges.
The tall blonde unceremoniously shoved Ally inside, still holding a now-quiet Sammy. Her heart was a frantic beat in her chest when her friend disappeared. She held the boy tightly in her arms, knowing that Paige was going to her room to get Levi. All the same, her knees were shaky, her breathing was hitched, and she realized with a sort of detached fascination that she was gasping in terror.
And then her friend was there again, and the light clicked on, and her hitching breathing paused for a minute. The room was as big as her room in her parent's place back in California. There were three cots against the far wall, and all available space on the other three walls occupied with every sort of weapon she'd ever seen. Guns of all shapes and sizes on shelves set at angles to clearly display the weapons with corresponding ammo boxes stacked beside them. There were racks on which hung blades ranging from a tiny pocket-knife to a full-on machete; with every sort of dagger and military-issue knife imaginable in between. Throwing stars, crow bars, rock salt shotgun rounds, big containers of pure salt, sniper rifles that looked like they could range over a mile; it was the biggest collection of weapons in one place she'd ever seen.
Under the ammo shelves, in clearly marked boxes on the floor, were brown packages she recognized as MREs (Meals Ready to Eat), as well as big bottles of water. There were also baby bottles and tins of baby formula, as well as canned baby food, and she could have sworn a miniature cooking stove and a box of pots and pans.
Beneath the cots were boxes of clothes: military issue shirts in black, brown, green, and white; camouflage pants in every hue she'd ever seen a soldier wear; sturdy combat boots in black or desert tan; belts in tan, black, or green…there was even a box of socks folded into three inch blocks and underwear, folded into six inch blocks. All of this was for both men and women.
There was a desk with paper and writing utensils, a laptop computer and what appeared to be hunting journals. And the walls. They were sold iron, and painted with all sorts of symbols, the most prominent of which being a pentagram on the wall over the cots. There were also two giant ones spray painted in black on the floor. She touched the walls surface curiously, startled to find it coarse. She licked her fingers daintily and tasted salt. What in the all holy hell was all of this? It was like a bomb shelter, just on the second floor of her best friend's house. She'd known Paige was a hunter, but man, this was over the top.
Paige lifted an eyebrow, looking pointedly at Ally. "Dude, relax," she soothed calmly, handing Levi over. She stripped out of her clothes, tossing them in the corner, and hastily dressed in jungle camo pants with a black shirt, tucking it in and holding it there with a black belt. She pulled on her black combat boots, knowing that it was a starless night out and would be pitch black with the cloud cover. "Bobby helped us design this. He had a weekend off."
"What's that?" Ally wondered, watching her friend strapping something on.
"A military-issue flak vest," she replied absently, securing the straps in place, along with a contraption resembling knee pads. She quickly put her hair in a bun at the back of her head, digging around in one of the boxes and emerging with a duffel bag she proceeded to stuff with a .50 caliber sniper rifle (technically illegal in the US, but she had connections), a sawed off shotgun loaded with rock salt as well as an extra ammo box, her favorite 9mm Glock handgun, and three clips of both normal rounds and silver rounds, three bottles of holy water, a packet of salt, and two grenades (a flashbang and a frag).
"Are you going to war or something? Is this what they teach you in the Trials?" Ally hissed in shock, holding both Levi and Sammy close as she watched Paige fasten a holster to her belt that she promptly clipped her second 9mm glock into. To her other side fastened a sheath for a very big knife, the leather piece so long she clipped it around her thigh with a buckle to keep it from snagging on anything or flapping against her leg and making unwanted noise. Her eyes widened when Paige picked up a giant knife, the Ka-Bar knife that had been a present from Christopher upon her graduation from boot camp, kissed the hilt, and slipped it into place in the leather sheath, leaving the snap undone just in case.
Four knives later – one in each boot, and two more into her belt – Ally was quite amazed at the change in her friend as she watched her grab magazines and stuff them into the cavernous pockets her pants. She reminded her of that movie GI Jane, or whatever it had been called.
Paige was in full on go-mode, aware that she was on a tight schedule and didn't have much time. She made sure she had lots of magazines and grabbed her prized M16, slinging it over her shoulders so that it hung down in front of her. She only had one empty pocket left, and into that she slipped her night-vision goggles and a canteen.
"Ally, listen to me," she said urgently, crouching in front of her.
Ally started in surprise. She was on the floor. When in the world had that happened? She forced herself to focus when Paige grabbed her cheeks and shook her head gently.
"This is important. I'm going out there."
"No way! No, not — "
"Ally, you can't fight!" Paige cut her off, slapping a hand over her mouth. "I can. I'm trained; I thought of sparring with Navy SEALs like most kids thought of playing video games, even when I was in first grade. I've got a good chance at survival out there. This is the life I was raised in. I have to do this."
"But — "
She smiled at the tears streaking down her best friend's face, gently wiping them away with a gloved hand. "Ally, you're safe in here. When I turn off the bright lights, there's infrared lights like they use on aircraft carriers, okay?" Ally nodded mutely in response, and she was relieved her deer-in-the-headlights friend was paying attention, because the next part was important. "I need you to do something for me. I need you to protect my son. Can you do that?"
Ally nodded mutely, forcing herself to stop crying. "Paige, the baby," she pleaded, grabbing her arm.
"If I don't do this, we all die." Paige spoke with utmost clarity. "They don't know you're here. So they won't look for you. They don't know who Levi's father is, so they'll leave him alone. You stay here and protect my baby. I'll protect the one that isn't born yet. The alarm notified the town, help will be here soon. Noah will come. I can hold them off until the cavalry gets here, with their giant dogs and kick ass guns and badass combat skills."
Ally didn't smile at the shot at humor. The whole situation was too dark. All she could think of was Dean's face if he told her something had happened to his wife. "Paige, think of Dean."
"I am thinking of Dean," Paige said quietly, squeezing her shoulder. "Listen. This safe is hidden in the closet. There's a panel that slides over the safe door to keep it hidden from unwelcome intruders. That protection can't be awarded if we're both in here. Someone has to hide the entrance."
"You're pregnant, damn it!" Ally shouted at her. "If anything happens…the baby, god, what about the baby!?"
"Allyson, I do not have time to argue with you!"
Ally started, slightly hurt by the harshness of Paige's tone. Her blue eyes were dead serious and bore into hers, demanding calm. A faint memory rose to the surface – this had been was Chris fondly referred to as her soldier face – dead calm, even in the face of certain death. She breathed deeply a few times, forcing her shaking to cease, only mildly aware that both of the boys she was holding were crying.
"There's no time. I have to go. I have to go now, so that you have a chance." Paige grabbed the duffel and tossed it out the door like it was nothing. And then she turned back, hugged her son and kissed him. "I love you, baby boy." Her eyes locked with Ally's. "If anything happens to me, Ally, I need you to promise that you'll tell Dean I love him with all of my heart, and that you'll raise my son to know that I died to protect him. Calm them down, keep them quiet. There are kids books in the corner, and I brought their blankets in here, too. You'll be fine."
Tears poured unchecked down her cheeks.
"Promise me, Ally."
"I promise," she choked.
And with one final grin and cocky salute, Paige was gone, the door clanging shut behind her. The light clicked off, leaving her and the two children alone in the soft infrared glow.
With no one but the boys to watch, she cried silently for a very long time, while she waited for some sound, any sound, that would give her some clue as to what was going on. She eventually shook herself out of it, scolded herself for being a baby, and soothed her son and nephew. She told them stories and they relaxed now that she was outwardly calm; she made it into an adventure. They read a few books and played with stuffed animals, until they started to get drowsy. She promised both of them their daddies would be home soon and it was just a game, and their eyelids were drooping not long after.
Time, it seemed, dragged on forever. She was sitting on the cot, her feet dangling over the side, shotgun propped against the wall beside her, while the boys slept peacefully tucked safely into the cot beside hers. Her eyes never once strayed from the door Paige had left through.
It had been hours. She glanced at her watch – it was just after midnight. Paige had left almost five hours ago, an unusually long time, even for her. This was it. Paige had failed. She stroked the hair back from Levi and Sammy's foreheads, marveling in that moment how much each child resembled their fathers. And steeling herself from the flood of tears sure to come, she watched the door, waiting for it to start caving in, knowing with all her heart that it was some kind of supernatural ugly, or Paige wouldn't have been so freaked, and neither would the dogs.
Yea though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil... she mentally recited, unsure why she clung to long-ago childhood memories of bible classes now, of all times, when she'd thought of herself as a bit of an atheist. What was the line? 'There's no such thing as an atheist in a foxhole', or something like that? Well, she could agree there. Whoever wrote that verse was a moron, no offense to whomever may be listening to my thoughts, because man, I'm absolutely terrified and abandoned to die with these babies, alone in this room. Noah Clayborne, wherever the hell you are, get back here already. Please, Noah. Please, God, I just want Noah.
I need you, Noah. We need you. And you know, God, while I'm in the praying mood, send Dean and Paige and Sam along too, wouldja? He'll kill this thing dead in two seconds flat, and she'll help.
And then she heard it.
A shuffling, sniffing, throaty noise. Just outside the door. A rumbling growl. Every nerve in her body stood on end, and she forced herself to breath steady despite the pounding of her heart, so loud that it seemed deafening. She was sure that whatever it was probably knew that she was in here by that sound alone, but if by whatever chance it didn't, she wouldn't give them away by gasping for air like a lung cancer patient.
It had found them.
Too late, God.
She stayed perfectly still, one hand curling around the shotgun and wishing she'd taken the Trials. She knew of the Brotherhood, sure, her family had helped found it. But she wasn't in the know, wasn't privy to their information or their secrets, and never in her life had she regretted it until now. Paige had implied this threat, whatever it was, was because of something John Winchester had done in the past. She had no idea what it was, or how dangerous it was, only that her friend had left and she was alone with two toddlers in a safehouse that was demon and spirit proofed, as far as she could tell.
Hand gripping the shotgun for dear life, she forced her breathing to stay calm and steady and hoped the cavalry would arrive soon.
