The Call to Ohio

Jogging. Dean shivered at the thought. To run when nothing was chasing you. It didn't make sense, never would make sense. Sam seemed to have given up the habit lately, but Gwen was fully committed. Her jogging sneakers sat by the door, damp with morning dew.

Dean found Gwen in the kitchen, a smoothie in one hand and a piece of bacon in the other. Jogging and bacon. Dean grinned. What would Sam have to say to that lifestyle choice?

Dean was half through his coffee before Sam graced the kitchen, still blinking blearily and only half-awake. He didn't spare Gwen a second glance, just moved through his morning breakfast routine as if neither of them were there. Coffee in cup. Toast in toaster. Smoothie from refrigerator. Sam paused, shoulders tense, staring at the empty shelves. "Dean!" He glared at his brother over the refrigerator door. "You know not to touch my smoothies!"

"I didn't touch your smoothies, Sammy."

Beside Dean, Gwen made a sharp slurping sound, and grinned. "These are really good. What's your recipe?"

Sam gaped for a moment, then swallowed his complaint and moved toward the toaster. "Spinach. V8 juice-I have it written down somewhere."

"My mom made hers with fruit and ice cream." Gwen grinned at Sam's horrified look. "It's good stuff."

Dean jerked his thumb at Gwen "Now that's my kind of smoothie. Make a list, we'll get groceries later." He waited until Sam had started in on his coffee. It was only fair. But this couldn't wait any longer. He held up his phone so that Gwen could see the number ready to be dialed. "It's time."

Dean pressed the call button before Gwen could protest. At the sound of her squeal, Sam craned his neck to see the phone, and jerked his chin up sharply to glare at his brother. Dean offered no apology, and set the phone out in the center of the table, speaker on high. Two sets of identical wide eyes gaped at him in terror.

Ring. Ring.

Both mouths snapped shut and eyes dropped to the phone as a breathless voice cam on the other line, her tone mixed with fear and hope.

"Who is this?"

Dean leaned forward. "Am I speaking with Agnes Torres?"

A pause. "Yes."

"My name is Dean, Ma'am. I met this girl named Gwen, and she looks a lot like an Amber Alert photo for your granddaughter. I thought I should call and let you know she's ok." It was what he would have wanted, when Sammy was missing. It was what this woman deserved.

"Dean?" The voice was sharp now, colored with the shrewd undertone of a practiced manipulator. His spine straightened in automatic response. "Dean Winchester?"

Now Dean felt his own mouth fall open. How did she know?

"Put your father on the line." The tone was imperious, a woman who expected to be obeyed.

Dean shared a startled look with Sam, who shook his head, the message clear; I'm not talking to her!

"I'm sorry ma'am, he's not available. He passed ten years ago." Why would she ask for Dad? Did she think he and Sam were still teenagers?

"Then who is caring for my granddaughter?" Yes, apparently in Aggie's eyes, the Winchester brothers were still no better than children themselves-still sixteen and nineteen, the age they had been when she had last seen them. Maybe, they should have had this conversation on video conference. Then, he could give her the full force of his glare.

Maybe he didn't need to. Gwen boiled out of her seat, face red. "I can take care of myself!" It sounded like the middle of an old argument. Possibly the argument that had sent Gwen packing in the first place.

Dean held up a hand and said in his calmest tone, "Gwen has food and a safe place to stay, Mrs. Torres."

"A child needs more than that, Mr. Winchester. Though I suppose I should not expect you to know that."

"Hey!" Dean's goodwill toward the poor, frail grandmother of a runaway teen evaporated. Aggie Torres was neither poor, nor frail. She was a stubborn woman too used to getting her own way. But Dean didn't get a chance for a return insult. Gwen jumped in swinging before he could open his mouth.

"I'm not a child!"

"You are barely seventeen. You don't know what you're dong. I thought you were hiding with a friend, or camping at the school. That I could understand. But no, you have run off across the country to seek out a man you know nothing about! He could be a criminal, he could-"

"I don't care, he's my DAD! Stop saying bad things about him!"

"You don't know what he-"

"I don't care if they're criminals, they're my family and-" Gwen's answer was swift, as if she'd considered this possibility already.

Of course, they were criminals…technically.

"Gwen, do you have any idea how dangerous this is? How did you even get there? Wherever there is?" Aggie paused.

There was a murmur in the background. "No trace yet."

So, someone else was listening in on this little Torres family drama.

"I hitched a ride!"

Dean snorted. Hitchhiking implied driver consent.

Mrs. Torres didn't care. She was done talking teenager. "What are you plans to get her home, Mr. Winchester?"

Dean blinked. That last had been directed at him. "What?"

"If you supply an address, I will supply a ride for Gwen. Unless you have another plan to get her home safely?"

"I am home!" Gwen said. Sam winced, but remained silent in his seat. He hadn't twitched during the entire conversation. As if somewhere inside him a sixteen year old was still frozen in fear.

Dean drew in a deep breath. "Look, lady, Gwen is old enough to decide some things for herself. We aren't going to send her anywhere she doesn't want to go."

"I could have you arrested for kidnapping!" Aggie snapped.

"No you can't!" Gwen's answer was swift and sure. "I came to them all on my own and you know it!"

Dean almost thought he heard a foot stomp on the other end of the line. Yes, Aggie would love to see both him and Sam behind bars. No, she was not going to get her wish. "Mrs. Torres, we need to think about what's best for Gwen. Agreed?"

"Of course." The answer was wary. "That is all I think about. Gwen needs to be at home where I can keep an eye on her and help her."

"I don't want your help!"

Dean held up his hands, and Gwen's mouth snapped shut. "Ladies, please! Mrs. Torres, it won't help to make Gwen go back if she's not ready. She'll just run away again. I have some experience with this. Sam did the same thing." His eyes flicked to his brother. Sam's eyes were narrowed, but still he remained silent. "You can't make her stay."

"I am her guardian. I decide where she lives."

"No." The word cut off Dean's reply. He looked up, startled, and stared at Sam. There was a fierce glint in his eyes. While Gwen and Aggie had been shouting, his little brother had made a decision.

"Excuse me? Who is this?" Aggie demanded.

"This is Sam. I am Gwen's father. That makes me her guardian."

"You have no say here!"

"By law I do. My parental rights were never terminated, were they?"

Dean could hear mad scrambling in the background as the listening cops checked the court records. Mrs. Torres breath stilled, and her stunned silence was all the answer Sam needed. His tone was steady, a deadly calm Dean rarely saw in his brother.

"We wanted to let you know that you don't have to worry about Gwen, Mrs. Torres. She is safe. But we can't sent her back. Gwen is my daughter. I will decide where she lives."

"Yes!" Gwen had landed on Sam's chest with a squeal and wrapped him in a tight hug. Sam wrapped an arm around her, but his expression was wary.

"Gwen, I didn't say-"

"I'll be fine here, Nana!" Gwen bent low over the phone. "You'll see. Maybe you can visit for Christmas."

Christmas? That woman, in the bunker? No! Dean shook his head, but Gwen disconnected the call before they could get into that debate. Gwen gave Sam one last squeeze before bouncing out of his lap. She skipped toward the shower, humming.

Dean stared at his brother. Sam looked as if he'd just picked up a stick of dynamite, and was waiting for the explosion.

"What happened to 'she can't stay'?" Dean asked.

"She can't," Sam said. There was no hesitation, no awkward pause for thought. Sam had made up his mind, and there would be no changing it. If Dean even wanted to change it.

Did he? Could this be Gwen's home?

"But she can't go back there, either."

"So, what does that leave us?" Dean didn't see a third option.

"I have an idea." Sam slipped off his seat, phone in hand. "I need to make a call."

"Yeah, before Aggie sics the Feds on us." Keeping Gwen invited trouble of a kind the Winchesters had not faced for a while. Monsters were easy. Tangling with cops and lawyers had never worked out well for them.

Sam's eyebrows snapped down in worry. "You made sure they couldn't trace the call."

Dean nodded. "Yeah, but I don't think that's going to stop Aggie Torres." All Aggie had to do was never stop looking, and she'd stumble on them sooner or later through sheer dumb luck. Somehow, that woman would find her granddaughter. Dean rubbed the back of his head again.

Sam frowned, thoughtful. "Right. I'll have to plan for that." There was no trace of fear in his tone anymore. That terror that had filled the ride here was gone, replaced by stubborn determination.

Dean stared at the leftover bacon growing cold on the plate. Best to eat it up. He would need the fuel for the battle ahead. Because there was another Winchester family fight brewing, a big one. And when the storm hit, he would be the one to clean up the wreckage.

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