OMIGOSHMOSH! 3,000+ views! Thank you all! I am so sorry this took so long, but here it is, at last, chapter… what number are we on now?
Disclaimer: I own Gwen, Kendra, Alexander, and Broodicx. Unfortunately, I don't own supernatural.
Dean raised his gun, preparing to shoot, but the slightly transparent ghost raised her hand, palm facing towards Dean, the sign to stop.
"I want to talk." Dean was stuck, confused, unsure of what to do.
"You're the Shwu. You killed Gwen's mother." A look of complete sadness came over the woman's face,
"I did not kill her. I was there when she died, that is all." Dean snorted with disbelief.
"Yeah, right."
"I was trying to tell her, to warn her about the upcoming war." A shiver that was out of place ran down Dean's spine as she spoke. A ghost, trying to warn the living about a war that they were throwing? Unlikely. "Please, I want to talk. We do not have much time." She gestured to the two chairs but Dean did not move, did not lower his gun. He had anger towards the spirit like no other he had ever experienced. He couldn't explain why he loathed this one so much.
"I'll stand, thanks." Kendra smiled in a melancholy way.
"Of course. I had forgotten who you were." Dean said nothing, maintaining his cold shoulder to Kendra. "I want you to know that there are two versions of me, sort of." This earned a confused look from Dean, and Kendra went on.
"There's me, which stay's by my son's side, protecting him from close up. Then there's the Shwu version of myself, who protects him from afar, and will do anything to keep him safe. She has less of a conciseness then me. But we are still the same person; we have the same memories and thoughts." Dean listened to the new facts patiently, nodding to Kendra to go one. "The Shwu works for a Demon because they threaten to kill Alexander and his family. She doesn't want to, of course, but when the Demon asks her to do something, she has to or else they will die."
"What is this Demon's name?" Dean interjected.
"I don't think he has one. The Demon's long term goal is to capture Gwen." Dean immediately became outraged, his eyes full of fire.
"What do they want with Gwen? She has nothing to do with this!" He kicked the bedside table leg, achieving nothing except a pain in his toe. Kendra looked at him sadly.
"I have no idea. When the Shwu asked, all he answered was that he was going to use her as a bargaining chip for something you have." Dean crossed over to the window quickly to see Gwen safely sitting in the Impala, waiting with her hand in her pocket, undoubtedly her hand on her gun.
"What does it want?" Kendra shook her head sadly.
"I don't know. The demon didn't say." Dean ran his hand involuntarily through his hair, trying to think of what it could possibly want. What did they have that the demon wanted?
"What do you know?"
"I know that the Demon and the Geranid are on the same level of superiority. There is also this Mr. Broodicx which I know nothing about, but he apparently is on the Demon's side. I had hoped he was a hunter. He sounded like he would've been a good one. He's powerful. That much I do know." Dean had never heard of any Broodicx. Kendra seemed to hear something and then returned her attention to Dean.
"You need to go. Our time is up." Kendra had a look of urgency on her face and Dean turned to go as she sat on the edge of the bed. "And Dean?" Dean turned to look at Kendra one last time. "Tell Gwen that I'm sorry. About whatever I might do. I'm sorry. You understand, right?" Dean lowered his eyes to the floor and walked down the stairs, looking for Sam.
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"Are you sure you know what you're doing?" Alexander said to Sam, who was on a ladder, not having any idea what he was doing, holding a wrench in his hand when his brother came down the stairs, saying,
"It was a false alarm. Everything is fine. So sorry for the inconvenience." Sam and Dean, Sam relieved, somewhat walked out the door and to their '67 Chevy Impala, Gwen then saying,
"What took you guys so long?" Sam and Dean were seated in the front, and Dean looked meaningfully at Sam, reluctant to say anything, but knowing he had to.
"Kendra sort of… appeared to me."
"What?" Gwen looked around from her idly picking at her fingernails, an expression of incredulously on her face. "What did she say?" Sam had, at his brother's words, opened his mouth to ask the same questions Gwen had, but she had beaten him to it.
"She said, well…" Dean sort of momentarily forgot what else she had said, as it was hard to concentrate when you had just been told that your daughter was going to be kidnapped by a demon. Dean told them everything he could remember, except Gwen's destiny as a trading chip. Not in front of her. She doesn't need any more pressure on her shoulders, not at this age. She can't possibly hold it all.
Gwen sat quietly and listened patiently, the worry of world war three unwillingly brought back to her attention. World war three. Of course one and two had been hosted by the paranormal, as Gwen simply couldn't think of why anyone would be as stupid as to turn against one another. Why could no one think ahead and be able to predict all the bloodshed to come? They had all been brainwashed by words, words craftily and cleverly put together to stir men up into agreement and rebellion. Why do they even want so much death, demons and other ghosts? Why do they want the end of life? What do they have against the living, they were humans too once. Can't they remember? No, Gwen answered her own question. But why had they forgotten?
How would they attack, though? Would it be wave after wave of humans in uniforms with the leader a Geranid? Or would it be one huge nuclear bomb that destroys half the earth? How could hunters prevent any more death? After being told that, apparently, Kendra didn't agree with the idea of war, Gwen then had an interesting thought. Surely not all supernatural beings wanted war to rage on, or agreed with the reasons that it was happening so what if, what if, they had the ones that disagreed lead the armies or something, so then they could have a better chance to win. But it was a stupid idea anyway.
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Gwen, like always, was the first one up again the next morning and got to the shower first. The light that was filtering through the window almost seemed blue, as the sky outside was grey with dark, ominous clouds that threatened a heavy downpour on the small town below. Sam was awoken by the sound of the shower starting, but Dean still lay asleep, snoring loudly in the bed beside him. Dean had told Sam what Kendra had told him late at night yesterday, after making sure Gwen was asleep. Extra watch on her; never let her out of their sight. Sam too, pondered what the demon could want and who Broodicx was.
The sudden question of how long Gwen had been with them struck Sam like a slap in the face, and he wondered why he hadn't thought of this before. He quickly counted and came up with a number that seemed not to be enough. Twenty one days. It was odd, but now that Sam thought back to that day at the orphanage, it seemed like an eternity ago. Sam and Dean had just gotten used to Gwen's presence, yet they knew there was still so much to learn about her. Then Sam remembered another detail that had first been reveled when they had asked her how old she had been.
"Twelve, my full name is Gwen Autumn Brantley, and I was born exactly a month from now."
Gwen's birthday was in nine days. On May seventeen she turned thirteen years old. Nine days from today. What could Sam and Dean get her for her birthday?
"Dean," Sam said, and when he did not move, Sam threw a crumpled piece of paper at him. It landed squarely on his head, and with a jerk, Dean awoke.
"What?" He grumbled, throwing the crumpled bit of paper back at Sam, who dodged it.
"Gwen turns thirteen in nine days."
"What?" Asked Dean, this time with interest and surprise, wondering if Sam was just joking.
"What should we do?"
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Gwen was only just realizing that her mother had died of natural causes. After all this time of being convinced that the Shwu had killed her mother, she was having a hard time adjusting. She had been able to blame someone for three months now, half the time not knowing exactly what to blame, but still. It had thrown her for a loop. So the doctors had been right, after all, she thought. Then the anger that for so long had been directed at someone else turned on Gwen. She doubled over with fury at herself. I could have saved her, Gwen thought, a mixture of angry and sad tears flowing down her face. I could have saved her.
::Breathes deeply:: There. Now leave a review, please. Honestly, there's no need to be scared, I don't bite. Most of the time.