Devon got to Bobby's ahead of Sam and Dean, walking in at Bobby's call of 'Come in' when she knocked. He was standing behind his desk, poring over a map. "You brought camping gear?" he asked, barely looking up.
"Yeah, that's what you told me, not that I have a lot of camping stuff to bring." She walked closer, peering down at the map. "Where are we going?"
Bobby pointed. "Right here. Hayes Lake State Park. There have been some attacks on campers, three people are missing. There are black bears in the area, so of course that's the official story. But we think it might be a wendigo."
"Wendigo?"
"Nasty creature, used to be human. Likes manburger. Here." Bobby handed Devon a well-worn book. "Read up, get the basics, and the boys will fill you in on the practical stuff when you get there."
Devon nodded, sitting down on the couch and opening the book where Bobby had it marked. She was completely absorbed in the lore when Sam and Dean came in. She looked up, opting to remain quiet when she saw the stormy look on Dean's face.
"Who peed in your Wheaties this morning, Sunshine?" Bobby asked curtly, and Dean shot him a dark look.
"We kind of had a run-in with Ellen and Jo," Sam said, "and we didn't really part on the best terms."
Bobby looked at Sam, folding his arms over his chest. "What the hell happened?"
"We stopped back at the Roadhouse after Oklahoma. Jo and Ellen were going at it, yelling at each other, breaking stuff. We kind of walked in on it. Jo had a file done up for a job, research she did herself, and she wanted to go to Philly to go after it. Ellen came unglued."
"So, what does that have to do with you?"
Dean sighed loudly and continued the story. "Jo gave the file to us, and we went to Philly to check it out. But she showed up too. And then Ellen found out. Jo got in a pretty hairy situation, thanks to me..."
"Dean, that wasn't your fault," Sam interrupted, but Dean just glared at him briefly and continued.
"Anyway, we got her out, took care of the nasty son of a bitch that was killing those women, and Ellen flew into Philly in time for the ride home. Which was great fun, by the way. When we got back, those two went after each other again, and I told Ellen I was sorry I lied, but that Jo's dad would be proud of her, that she did a good job. She got seriously pissed off, said she didn't want to hear that from me, and told us she wanted to talk to Jo alone."
"You lied to Ellen?" Bobby asked in disbelief.
"I did at first, Jo begged me not to tell her that she was there with us. I shouldn't have, I know. But I did. Anyway, Jo came storming outside, and wouldn't talk to me, but finally she told us what her mom had said. She said it was Dad's fault that her dad was killed."
"Dean." Bobby looked steadily at Dean until the younger man finally met his eyes. "We don't know the whole story."
"I damn sure understand why he never went back to the Roadhouse. Why he never mentioned Ellen or Jo to us. Sometimes I wonder if we really knew him at all." Dean turned, his eyes coming to rest on Devon for just a moment, long enough for her to see the pain and anger in their green depths. Then he stalked from the room into the kitchen, and Sam shoved his hands into his pockets, silent.
Devon stood, closing the book in her hands. She laid it on the corner of the desk as Bobby looked at Sam, concern on his face. "I don't know if he's in any shape to be going on a hunt. He's gonna need to focus, Sam, and when he gets wound up about your dad... Can you snap him out of this? Because otherwise, I'm gonna see who else is close to handle this thing." He looked up to see Devon walking into the kitchen, and he looked back at Sam, one eyebrow raised. "Think you should go in there?"
Sam shrugged. "I guess we'll see. Maybe he'll listen to her. If I hear yelling, I'll go." Bobby nodded, and Sam came closer as they studied the map together.
Dean was standing, his arms folded, staring out the kitchen window at nothing. Devon spoke softly as she walked up behind him, stopping an arm's length away. "Stuff about your dad really pushes your buttons, huh? I can relate."
"You don't have a clue," Dean snapped quietly.
"All right, I don't know exactly what it was like for you, but admit it, Dean-we both have issues with our dads."
He turned to face her, his eyes dark, the muscle at his jaw line clenched, and when he spoke, his voice was low and angry. "Don't stand there and pretend to understand about me and my dad. You have your little girl disappointment that your daddy wasn't around. My situation was a little more intense. You don't understand jack."
Devon folded her arms and squared off with Dean, her eyes glowing with anger now. "Really. I don't understand that your dad is your hero, and someone just threw a great big rock at that John Winchester statue you keep on your mantle? You know your dad wasn't perfect raising you, but you didn't know he could make a mistake on the job, right? Because he was human, just like the rest of us, Dean."
He took a step closer to Devon, but she stood her ground as he glared down at her. "According to my dad, you didn't make mistakes when you were hunting. Ever. There were no excuses. Just do the job, perfectly, or else. He drilled that into my head, into Sam's head. We didn't matter, only the job. It didn't matter what we thought, just that we listened to him and did exactly what he said, when he said it, without question. Yes, sir. No, sir. Don't talk back, don't argue, don't think."
Devon looked into his eyes as he ranted, and for a moment saw the ghost of a young Dean, angry at his father, hurt by his constant judgement and criticism, and her own anger faded to nothing. "I'm sorry. You're right. I have no right to say I understand what you went through. Maybe I don't. But I'm willing to listen, isn't that worth something?" Dean stared down into her eyes silently for a moment, and she found that she was a little short of breath. That moment seemed to stretch out for an eternity, and then the sound of Sam's voice in the doorway snapped her out of it.
"So are we going to Minnesota, or not? Do you want to sit this one out, Dean?"
Dean made a disdainful face and squared his shoulders. "Hell, no, I don't want to sit it out. Do you want to sit it out?" he asked Devon, who raised her eyebrows and shook her head in the negative. "See? We don't want to sit it out, what's wrong with you, Sammy?" He pushed past his brother to walk to the desk and lean over the map with Bobby, speaking to him quietly. Sam looked at Devon, a one-sided smile on his face, nodding in approval. She smiled in answer and followed him back into the room to listen as plans were finalized for their trip to Minnesota.
Devon sat sideways in the back seat, head resting on the pillow behind her back, her eyes closed for the moment. She had been reading, but her eyes were tired, and she could use a nap anyway. When they got to Minnesota, they were going to be hiking and setting up camp, and there might not be a good opportunity to sleep. She gave in to the drowsiness, and was soon out, the book sliding from her lap to the floor.
Sam glanced in the mirror at the quiet thud, and smiled a little. His smile broadened and he shook his head as he looked over at his brother, whose eyes were on the rear view mirror. "Dude, how are you staying on the road?" Sam teased quietly.
"Why?" Dean asked curtly, his eyes back on the road ahead.
"Because your eyes have been in the back seat ever since we left Bobby's," Sam said, still keeping his voice down. "That's why."
The know-it-all smile on Sam's face was irritating Dean. "Eat me, Sammy." It didn't erase the look from Sam's face, but at least it made him feel better. Truth was, he was right. Devon had a very distracting habit of nibbling on her lower lip as she read, and it had been driving him crazy. Now that she was asleep, maybe he could focus.
It was a little over seven hours to their destination, and they made good time, other than making one stop for food and gas. They drove as far as they could into Hayes Lake State Park, then parked the Impala and prepared for the hike further north into the Red Lake Indian Reservation territory where the attacks had taken place. "I hope they cleared the rest of the campers out of that area," Sam muttered as they loaded themselves up for the hike. He turned, two small leather folders in his hand. He handed one to Devon and the other to Dean. Devon opened hers, smiling slightly at the contents.
"I'm a Minnesota State Park Ranger, huh? Cool."
"Yeah, just in case someone tries to stop us from going in. The area's supposed to be closed to campers now."
They did get stopped once, but after flashing their badges, the uniformed ranger let them through, and they began to hike their way through the woods, making their way past the established trails. Sam checked the GPS frequently, leading the way, and after about an hour and a half of steady walking, they came to a clearing and stopped. "This is right about where the last camper went missing," Sam said, carefully lowering his pack from his shoulders, then coming to help Devon with hers. "We should set up camp here. I'll set up the protected circle if you guys want to get some wood for a fire for tonight."
Dean nodded in agreement, and he and Devon set off into the woods. They made several trips back to the camping area, their arms loaded with firewood. "What do you think, a couple more loads?" she asked as Dean drained his bottle of water.
"Yeah, that should do it, I think." They set off again, but weren't having much luck finding anything bigger than a twig. Dean didn't want to get too far from camp, but they needed to keep their fire going, so he reluctantly ventured out, telling Devon to stay close.
It was getting close to dusk, the sun was lowering in the west and filtering weakly through the trees. When they each had an armload, Dean decided that for safety's sake they should head back. Devon walked ahead of him a step or two, and jumped a little when she felt his hand on her shoulder. She turned to look at him, and he held a finger to his lips, signalling her to be quiet. He helped her to carefully lay down her load of wood, and her eyes grew wide as she heard a noise, turning away from him and looking around wildly, her heart pounding. He grabbed her from behind, his hand firmly over her mouth, pulling her up tight against him as he pressed his back against the trunk of the huge tree they were beneath. She barely heard him as he whispered, "Shhhh" next to her ear, and she reached back, grasping at his leg, shaking with terror. She could hear the sound of something big walking nearby, and from the sound of it, the creature was dragging something-or someone. As it passed by on the other side of the tree, Dean's grip on her got even tighter, and he pressed himself even closer to the tree. And then they heard it, a moan of pain, and then a weak voice saying, "Help, please help...," then a growl and a thud, and the voice stopped. Devon felt a tear trickle down her cheek as the footsteps of the creature grew more distant, and then there was nothing but silence again.
They stood there unmoving for a few more minutes, and Dean finally lowered his hand from Devon's mouth. She was still shaking, from fear or adrenaline or both, and her knees were weak as she stepped carefully away from him. She felt his hand on her shoulder and turned to look at him, another tear making its way down her cheek. "Are you okay?" he said very quietly, and she looked into his eyes for a moment, then slowly shook her head.
"N-No," she managed, and he pulled her into his arms and held her until the shaking had calmed down.
"We're gonna be okay, Devon. And with any luck, we'll save that guy. Okay?" She nodded, stepping back and looking up at him again.
"Okay," she said softly, then turned and began to gather the firewood she'd been holding earlier. Dean bent to help her, laying the last piece across the armful she held. On impulse, she stood on tiptoe to kiss his cheek. Then the firewood hit the ground as she put her arms around his neck and kissed him for real, his lips parting to welcome her. He crushed her to his chest, his arms surrounding her, and then suddenly she was against the tree as Dean kissed her hungrily, one hand on her face and the other at the small of her back, holding her tight against him.
Dean finally raised his head, looking down at her, closing his eyes for a moment as they both fought to regain their composure. "We need to get back to camp."
Devon nodded. "I know." He stepped back from her, and once again they went about the task of picking up their scattered firewood, avoiding looking at each other. They headed back to the campsite, where Sam had finished the last of the Anasazi symbols and was pulling the tent from the bag.
"Good, you're back, I was getting worried. Dean, can you help me get this tent set up?" Dean went to aid his brother, filling him in on their close call with the wendigo, and Devon searched through Dean's bag to find the small hatchet to pound in the tent pegs.
They heated some canned stew over the fire, eating more because they knew they should than because any of them were feeling hungry. After cleaning up, Sam looked at Devon. "Did Bobby give you that topographic map?" She nodded and went to her backpack, finding the map and handing it to Sam.
"How do we find that thing?" she asked hesitantly, wondering just how crazy a person had to be to actually go looking for something like that.
"They like dark and dank, like caves, or old mines. The last one we killed was in an abandoned mine. Bobby marked some possible locations on this map for us, hopefully between tracking and this we can find the bastard." He looked up from the map. "You two can have the tent, I'll take the first watch. I got a pretty good nap in on the way here."
"Wake me at two, I'll take over," Dean said, and Sam nodded in agreement. He and Devon entered the tent, which was fairly roomy, meant for four, the only tent Bobby had for them to use. Devon was feeling very self-conscious after what had happened earlier in the evening, and kept her eyes off of Dean, laying out her sleeping bag and lying down on it in silence. Dean looked down at her for a moment, then sat down next to her, reaching for her hand. She looked up at him, almost afraid of what she would read on his face.
She was having a hard time focusing as he was gently rubbing the back of her hand with his thumb. Then he lifted it to his lips and kissed it softly, and her heart began to pound. "Want to continue where we left off?" he whispered, stretching out to lie on his side beside her, supporting himself with one elbow.
"Are you crazy?" she whispered back, her eyes wide. "Sam's right outside!"
He leaned over to nibble softly at her neck, and she caught her breath. Then he raised up slightly to look into her eyes, his sparkling in spite of the dim light. "Then don't make any noise," he whispered, and bent to kiss her, sending her resistance whimpering into a far corner of her mind. His hand slipped underneath her shirt, sliding slowly upward until he cupped her breast, and Devon arched her back slightly, her body drawn to his touch. She reached up, running her fingers through the soft, short hair at the nape of his neck, nipping gently at his bottom lip as his fingers found their way beneath her bra. He raised his head slightly to look down at her as his fingers worked their magic, and he kissed her again, hard, driven by the desire on her face. She slipped her hand beneath his shirt, and a muffled moan escaped his lips as he kissed her.
"Right, don't make any noise," she teased as he raised his head again to look down at her. A lascivious grin curved his lips, and she felt suddenly as if lava filled her veins, but as he bent towards her again, his lips barely brushing against hers, Sam called out.
"Guys, it's out there. I can hear it."
"Damn it," Dean cursed quietly, kissing Devon fast and hard once, then getting up, holding out a hand to help her up. She adjusted her clothing, blushing as Dean watched her, and she stepped to the tent flap, unzipping it and turning to face him.
"You coming?" she asked, and he smiled a little sheepishly, raising an eyebrow at her.
"I'll be out in a minute," he said, and she grinned, ducking through the opening.
Dean watched her leave, blowing out a tense breath. "Son of a bitch," he muttered to himself, took a couple of deep breaths, and stepped back out into the night.