13 - Of Course She Was
Caleb, Deanna
Bleary-eyed, the two men read through the books. John Winchester started the coffee dripping again. Caleb Bailey groaned but was grateful for the hot black when it was ready. This hunt was gonna kick their asses if they didn't get a lead soon. Damned faerie lore wove into everything else and everything else into it. If John hadn't been such a good friend the last couple of years, Caleb might have told him to take it on the road.
John stood when the knock came at the door. Caleb looked up, glanced at his watch. "I'm not expecting anyone."
"It's my kid." John grabbed the door. "I told her to meet me here." The door opened and he laughed. "Is it raining?"
"For like three hours. Fucking cats and dogs and prairie dogs." She stepped inside dripping wet. She got her jacket off and hung it up. Shook out her hair. She hugged her dad and stepped further inside. "Coffee?"
"Just made some." John pointed. "Deanna, this is Caleb."
"Hey." She rubbed her arms as she hustled to the coffeemaker.
Caleb waved and tried not to make it too obvious he was watching her go. He tapped his pen on his book. When John said he had kids, he thought they would be kids. This one was, hopefully, around 25. Gorgeous hunters were a rare find.
"I got that book but it's fragile. It's in the car." Deanna relayed to her father, hands wrapped around a mug. "If I can get a box or something, I'll bring it in."
"Go shower. I'll get the book and your bag." John told her. "I need you primed. No colds."
"Yeah, okay." She nodded as she sipped the coffee. When he was gone, she looked to Caleb with big green eyes. "Shower?"
"Um…" His bathroom was filthy. He winced and gestured for her to follow him. He peeked around the door. He grabbed his dirty underwear and damp towels. "The knob has a quirk. It's either ice planet or hell. So… pull it straight out and you should be okay."
He tossed the laundry in the hamper and looked around for clean towels. He found one. He handed it to her. She took it and set it on the toilet tank. She tilted her head at him. "So, you're the infamous Caleb."
"Infamous?"
"The way Dad talks, you walk on water. Least where the guns count." She reached back and got the water going. "The way Dad talks, you're his favorite kid."
"Jealous?"
"Nah. I got gorgeous tits." She shut the door in his face.
Caleb carried his hamper to his laundry closet and checked the dryer. He got it emptied and the washer loaded. Shoved everything in it. He pulled the knob and shut the doors on it. Tossed the jeans and thermals into his closet. He found John carrying a huge book and bag into the house. The book looked like it was about to dissolve.
John left the book with Caleb and dropped the bag next to the bathroom door. While they carefully turned the pages, Deanna emerged from the bathroom in a cloud of steam. She had the towel on top of her head. Caleb breathed out. She had gorgeous tits. She did. They were amazing. She grabbed her bag and stepped back inside but didn't shut the door. Caleb just hoped John hadn't seen him looking.
They scribbled notes and argued strategy. Deanna appeared in sweats to dig through his fridge. She sat across from them and ate yogurt that he didn't remember buying. She licked her spoon and watched them. "So, this hunt?"
"It's either a faerie or a brownie."
"I thought brownies were helpers and faeries were make-believe." She propped her feet on the table.
"And everything we always thought is always true?" Caleb asked her, barely looking up from the book. "Vampires are killed by stakes to the heart?"
She snorted. "Vampires are extinct."
"And when they weren't, beheading was the only way to kill them." John pointed out. "Get your feet down. You're a guest here."
She put her socked feet back on the floor and finished her yogurt. She drummed her hands on the table. "What can I help with?"
"Go to bed. Need you rested." John pointed to the couch.
"Yes, sir." She saluted and got to her feet.
Caleb glanced at the couch that John had been using for the last week. It looked grimy. He felt bad. She just flopped down on it and shut her eyes. Asleep the way she landed. They spent all night reading the damned book. No closer to figuring it out. Iron was a safe bet. Salt.
John crashed on the table where he was sitting. Caleb got a blanket tossed over Deanna then hit his bed as the sun was coming up. He woke when he heard noise.
"Don't. move. Stop it." Deanna's voice.
Caleb shoved himself to his feet and found Deanna bent over John who was laid out on the floor. He frowned at them and rubbed his eyes. "What happened?"
"This guy fell asleep hunched over, had himself a night terror, jumped up, fell down and put his back out." Deanna growled. "Stop. Moving."
"Come on, John." Caleb moved over to them. "Get on your back." He helped roll the man over and lay him out flat. Then he picked up his feet and yanked them into the air. John screamed. Deanna yelled at him. "Just. Let it happen." He got the man's legs perpendicular to his body and lifted. After a minute John breathed in relief. "Okay. Now, there's no more moving."
He gently put John's legs down. Deanna tilted her head at him. "Where'd you learn that?"
"I had an old man, once. He had a bad back." Caleb stared down at John. "You need to be in a bed." He looked up. "Deanna, go clear off my bed." Caleb squatted over John. "Come on, arms up." Caleb got a good grip on him and stood. He almost put his own back out before John got his feet under him. Then Deanna was helping to steer as they moved through the house. They got him on the bed and the pillows arranged. "Sleep."
They shut the door and Deanna sagged against the wall. "He's so damned stubborn. You should have woke me up when he fell asleep like that."
"He does it all the time. First time his back went out." Caleb tried to explain.
"I tell him to get a motel. He needs a bed." She sniffed and stormed down the hallway.
Caleb got the coffee going and found some eggs for breakfast. She took the peace offering for what it was. She got some to her dad, along with painkillers. Dressed and calm, Deanna sat at the table to look over the notes and the big fragile book. She cried a bit but didn't say anything. He refreshed her coffee and let the silence lie. It got to her eventually. She looked up and wiped her face. "I'm not a child."
"I know."
"He's all I got. He's falling apart." She gritted out between her teeth. "I love him. He's my dad. He wants us to finish the hunt. He's got aches and pains and a shitty back and he wants us to finish the hunt. And my brother's not answering his goddamn phone. And he wants us to finish the hunt."
"So, let's finish the hunt." Caleb sat on the other side of the table. "How old are you?"
"24." She sniffed. "I know. I'm too old for crying. Dad tells me all the time."
"Cry, I don't care." He sipped his coffee. "You… John talks about you and your brother. I thought you guys were like… teenagers. Real young."
"He talks about us?"
"All the time. He's proud. Says… um, Sam is the smartest person who ever lived. Says his darling daughter is the best shot in America."
"He said that?" She smiled at her hands. "He's not good with his words with us."
"It's a dad thing. My old man was like that, too."
"When'd he pass?"
"10 years ago. I was… your age."
"You're not." She smacked his hand. "You're not over 30."
"I am." He nodded.
She leaned on the table and sighed over her cup. "I don't want to do this hunt. I feel like it's too dangerous. I don't know you. I don't know how you hunt but I don't know you well enough to hunt with you."
"That's smart. You want a drink? A real one?"
"Yeah." She held out her cup. Caleb poured a double shot of whiskey into her cup and a triple into his. She sipped her coffee and watched the morning pass outside the windows. "You don't have family?"
"Rawhead got my brother when we were kids. Dad jumped in. Took me with him. Mom… I don't even remember if she died or left or…" Caleb shrugged. "My thing is guns. I like guns. They make sense. More than hunting does."
"I hear that. I like guns." She smiled. "My baby is a 1911 Colt .45."
"That's a good gun. You take care of her."
"Oh yeah. My baby don't jam." She took a breath and a deep drink. "How about you?"
"Ruger." He pointed to the gun mounted. "I don't shoot her. Love her too much."
"That just makes me sad." Her eyes wandered to the closed door at the end of the hall. "I know it's just a thing. He'll be fine in a couple of days. I don't like seeing him like that."
"I know. I don't either. He's a good friend."
"He pisses you off." She grinned into her cup.
"Yes, he does. He's still a good friend."
"Yeah. He's a hero." She drained her cup. She poured herself more and stood up. "You got a TV or something?"
"Yeah." He motioned over to the couch. They got settled with the booze, a bag of chips and a movie marathon. They chatted about westerns and action flicks with hot chicks. Sports and guns. Talked about techniques for bringing down some beasts. He liked her smile. Liked her sense of humor. Liked the way she worried over her dad and her brother. He was a bit in love with her. She fell asleep on his shoulder.
John got up around sunset, walking like a mannequin. He waved off Caleb. He downed a handful of painkillers, chugged a pint of milk and stood watching Deanna sleep for a long time. "She's a good kid."
"Yeah." Caleb nodded and furrowed his brow when John just kept staring at them.
"You two make a cute picture… Just too bad she's a lesbian or I'd set you two up." John made his bracing way back to bed and left Caleb nodding to the television. Of course, she was. Of course she was. That would be the way of it.