Day two of Bobby discovering his secret. Dean hadn't been able to stand the sight of the things that ruined his life. He had gotten his hands on a kitchen knife and Bobby had walked in on a horror scene.
"I'm a monster Bobby. How can I call myself a hunter if I am one of the things that we hunt!" Dean had yelled, blood smeared up to the elbow and one wing burned to dust the other hacked partly through. It hung half off like a snapped twig and jerked violently as if convulsing.
Bobby had picked up his shotgun and walked to the open door to the front porch. Confused and angry but curious Dean had stomp after.
"Kid, cutting off the wings doesn't make you human and having them doesn't make you a monster. You are a hunter because you stop evil not because you kill the supernatural. Now you are going to give me that knife or else."
"What are you going to do shoot me?" Dean laughed bitterly, "Unless those are special bullets it won't kill me."
"No," growled Bobby. He pumped the shot gun once before squeezing the trigger. The ground in front of the left rear wheel of the impala exploded as the bullet impacted with the hard packed earth.
"You wouldn't"
"I'd sell that car for spare parts before I let you harm yourself son," It wasn't a bluff and Dean knew it. The knife clattered to the porch floor and Bobby helped bandage the stump of the broken wing. It hurt Bobby old heat that the car meant more to the boy than his own body but he would use what ever tactics were necessary.
Day three at Bobby's didn't go much better. Dean groaned into his pillow; smacking his lips together a few times regretting the return to the waking world. Pins and needles screamed in his arms. His right arm was painfully asleep from it unnatural angle behind his back. Soft feathers tickled his bare arms. He tried to rolls onto his back. It quickly becomes apparent that his wrist were tied together behind his back. Being tied up was never a great sign.
" #$!%," crused Dean. Wings flapped wildly trying to flip him from his position on his stomach doing a good impression of a beetle trapped on its back with its legs waving helplessly in the air. One wing had grown back between his bound arms and the other was under his arm so he was doing a brilliant one man twister game.
"Good morning sunshine," greeted Bobby leaning on the door frame.
"Untie me!" growled Dean with as much venom as one could flat on his stomach.
"Not until you can be trusted not to harm yourself. You might want to find a sense of self-preservation soon or go easy on the liquid"
Dean slammed his face into his pillow with a growl.
An hour later Dean was unceremoniously bundled into Bobby pickup-truck; hands still trapped behind his back. A long leather coat hid the white feathers from view.
"Where are we going?"
"Camping." Now Dean looked at Bobby as if the older man had sprouted wings. In the sense of what the heck not in the sense that Bobby was an angel. Bobby was too grumpy to be an angel.
"What? Why?"
"Because you need to learn to fly and at this time of year the camp ground is closed. Also there is a simple job in the camp ground. Plus I need a vacation. No I deserve a vacation." Bobby stated putting the old car into drive. He had hidden so many weapons over the years in his house that even he had forgotten where some of them where and thus a cabin would give Dean less opportunity to lay hands on a blade.
"FLY! I can't fly!" said Dean alarmed. His face turning the same shade of green as his irises.
"This is humiliating." Grumbled Dean glaring at the wood chips ten feet below his booted feet.
"Would you have preferred a cliff? Ducklings are just shoved off their nest in a tree."
"I am not a duckling! I am a grown man." Spat Dean fingers wrapping more tightly around the cold pink plastic coated metal pole that kept him from falling. It was a difficult task with his hands bound by the zip ties.
"Your ego might better survive a cliff but your body will thank you for starting with a playground."
"I'm going to do some interviews for the hunt while you find a way down from your perch. We'll meet at the cabin later," smirked Bobby. With a tip of his baseball cap Bobby turned back toward the trail to the visitor center. The campground was mostly deserted besides one or two park rangers that didn't dare venture out in the cold of the fall that threatened snow. They had told the two hunters to camp at their own risk just don't get into any trouble because they weren't leaving the warmth of the visitor center. That had suited Bobby just fine since it gave Dean the freedom to spread his wings. Dean felt like a giant when he had clambered up to the top of the railing that stop the kids falling off on their way to the slide. White and electric blue flight feathers wedged themselves between the blue plastic slide and the monkey bars to keep Dean from overbalancing and falling on his face on the wood chips below. Dean had to give it to Bobby. As a way of torture, it was well thought out. If Dean fell it would hurt but the wood chips meant to protect children would make Dean hard pressed to break his neck. Dean tried to step backwards on to the little walk way but with his hands tied behind him any motion in that direction would be sure to overbalance him. He could jump for it. It was only ten feet. But every time he bent his knees he found his fingers clutching tighter to the pole at his back. The ground seemed to be getting further away and his stomach felt like he had a hangover. This was ridiculous he had face down werewolves Dean Winchester wasn't afraid of heights! He wasn't!.
"Hey!" A high-pitched squeak started Dean from his perch. There was a moment of terror and frenzy flapping that wound up flipping Dean in a tight summersault instead of keeping him air born before his back greeted the ground with an audible thud.
Long dark hair curtained his face as a pair of soft brown eyes met his.
"Do it again," commanded the young girl.
"What?! Personal space sweetheart." Dean sat up and scooted away on his bum. His brain trying to find a reasonable explanation for his wings that would make sense to a five-year-old. His butt and elbow were sore but everything seemed to have survived the fall except his ego and, he grinned, the zip tie. The girl was young no older than seven with an unflattering overlarge t-shirt that proclaimed "that the difference between genius and stupidity is that genius has its limits". Clearly unfazed by the feathers she pointed one finger at the top of the playground and glared at Dean like he was slow.
"Do a flip."
Dean cautiously lifted his wings shaking the wood chips off. Crossing his arms over his knees. "Didn't your parents tell you not to talk to strangers' kid? Especially ones with extra appendages?" The girl shuffled closer in her once white sneakers. Her hand exploded out and latched around Dean wrist. Leaning her whole body back on the balls of her feet she attempted unsuccessful to leveler the larger man up.
"You're not a stranger."
Dean raised one eyebrow at the girl. "Pretty sure I would remember a princess like you."
The girl huffed a sigh eyes doing an impressive roll to the heaven. "You're not a stranger dummy. You're an angel. Mommy says angels watch over me" Dean shallowed hard at that shaking his head wanting to tell the girl that he was no angel. "So if you watch over me you can't be a stranger." The girl chewed her bottom lip thinking before saying, "You're like a fluffy babysitter."
Dean snorted. "Angels are just as real as unicorn, dragons, and fairy tales. Their just stories kid. I'm just an unlucky guy with wings." Dean felt bad for ripping the childhood fantasy land out from under the kid but the child would live longer with logic than dreams. He grabbed his leather jacket pulling it on over his wings. Immediately feeling less exposed.
"Unicorns are real." Replied the girl eyes narrowed.
"Have you ever seen one? I've seen a lot trust me. There are evils in the shadows. I've seen them most people have seen them out of the corner of their eye, in the shadows, under their bed, but those good monsters they don't exist. If no one has ever seen them how could you think they possibly exist?" Why was he debating a five year old in the woods? This was ridiculous. The thing was he had taken an instant liking to the little punk. Not in a creepy way. It was because she was too innocent to see him as a monster. Any guilt was washed away when the small hand that was not latched around Dean wrist disappeared into the inner pocket of Dean jacket and emerged with a leather folded rectangle that was Dean's wallet. Dean would normal have deck the thief but he just growled in frustration since he drew the line at women and children and instead tried to snatch the wallet back without touching the girl. The last thing he needed was the girl's parents walking out to see a strange man with his hands on their child.
"Give that back," Dean demanded.
"Mommy says adults believe in things they can't see."
"Yeah like depression, anxiety and the apple pie life, kid. Yeah there are the cults out there that you can get to believe the earth is flat or that the vaccines cause death but not in fairy tales. No one in their right mind believes in something they can't see." The girl seemed to consider this for a moment. Dean glared. What had happened to his life? Why in the world was he sitting in a playground having philosophy debate with a five year old thief?
"Cults are crazy?" the girl mused.
"Yes," Dean sighed. Well, he couldn't use physical violence to take back his wallet he would have his revenge in a childish manner. He fumbled in his front pocket until he felt the plastic bag and heard the tell-tale crinkle. He pulled out the bag of peanut M&M and popped a few of the brightly colored treats into his mouth not offering any to the girl who tried to reach for the bag. Holding it over her head literally he raised an eyebrow looking pointedly at his stolen property.
"Is the government crazy?"
Dean had a sneaking suspicion that he was being led to a point and was painfully reminded of Sam at that age. That kid loved to debate like it was an art form. He took a larger handful munching loudly with his mouth open to show his annoyance before answering.
"Some are. Some people say the US is crazy and it has its moments but its…" Dean thought for a moment. He had lived his whole life in the US and despite how bad his life had gotten he knew there were people in other countries that had it a lot worse. "Its not perfect but it is home and its certainly not cult crazy."
The girl pulled a dollar out of the wallet tossing the rest on the ground as if it was worthless letting Dean hurriedly scoop the discarded wallet off the ground. She spread the dollar flat and pointed at the center handing it to Dean.
"The government isn't crazy. It is run by adults. It believes in something they haven't seen." Dean frowned puzzled examining the dollar to understand what the girl was talking about by her grin it was clear she thought she had won. It took less then a second until Dean found it. He lowered the bag of M&Ms so the girl could grab an overflowing hand full. Which turned out to be three M&M since that was all that could fit in her small hand.
"You win kid, you win."
Dean smooth over the words on the green paper printed by the government, for the people and by the people. Spelled out in simple block texted was the words: In God we trust.
"Clearly you've never seen miracle on 34th street." Dean was quiet for a moment. He hadn't put much thought into the topic. His life had been a whirled wind but his Mom believed and he realized he did too.
"Alright you made your point kid let get you to your parents come on." The girl glanced at her shoes.
"I'm lost," she muttered after a moment. Thanks universe. Could my luck get any worse?
"Come on sweetheart lets go talk to the rangers see if they know where your folks are camping."
The universe loved to prove him wrong. The rain hit the pair with a wall of water. Well things couldn't get much worse. Crack! The world whited out and the ground trembled. Spears sized Splinters exploded outward as the tree detonated from the lighting strike. Dean enveloped the girl with his body protecting her from the shards. His wings strained against the coat they itched from the electricity in the air. He had to get her to safety. Hefting the kid into his arms. He made a mad dash toward the cabin. Mud splattered onto his jean and he was soaked through not even ten feet from the playground. A shadow too large to be a bird blanketed the path moving to fast to be seen. Bobby said there was a hunt. Dean had been preoccupied with not caring what happened to himself that he hadn't got the details he was regretting that now. Diving into the tree line for cover he continued his break neck pace.
A shadow circled the fleeing pair outlined by the glow of lighting cracking the dark clouds. Gold wings glided over the canopy in absolute silence but the canopy was thick, the sky was dark, and the prey was fast so eventual the predator was reduced to circulating the area waiting for its prey to break cover.
Dean fingers felt fat and swollen and were an angry red from the cold. His feet felt like solid ice cubes. His cloths felt stiff from being soaked then frozen. The shadow had disappeared an hour ago and it was a struggle to lift his feet.
"Five minute break," suggested Dean sinking to his knee on the frozen dead leaves that littered the forest floor and gently placing the girl down she felt like ice in his grip. Much too cold to be healthy.
"Simple hunt my…" he glanced at the girl before discontinuing his tirade at Bobby. With some difficulty with the inflexibility of his cold muscles he shrugged out his jacket and wrap the child in it. She wasn't shivering which wasn't a great sign. Fighting the urge to pull the feathers to the small of his back to warm them he signed and extended them around himself and the girl at the center like a small tent. The ran traced cold trails down his feathers making him shiver but they seemed to be fairly water proof since the girl remained dry inside the protective circle. Dean knew he was in trouble. He was lost in the woods with a minor, and a monster and judging by the way his thoughts and legs wouldn't obey his commands to move; possibly hypothermic. He fished his phone out of his pocket. It took a few tries with his clumsy fingers but finally he managed to select Bobby's number .
"SOS Bobby, Got lost in woods to the North something is chasing us."
"Hang in there. I co- beeep" The phone small screen went black as the battery gave out.
"S^&%!" cursed Dean. He pulled the girl closer trying to bring her body temperature up. He had to keep her awake if she drifted off now there was no telling if she would wake up. He was right. There was no such thing as a good supernatural creature. He had just been trying to help and he had only brought harm to the girl.
"Angel, don't sleeping."
Dean blinked the world had turned white. Oh those were his wings. Something cold poked him in the cheek hard. Not painful just hard. The girl glared. Opps he had to stay awake. He was the one who was suppose to keep the kid from drifting away not the other way around. He shifted with a groan his arms felt like logs.
"Not an Angel" That was the end of the conversation for a while.
"Sing," Dean jerked awake the second time at the command.
"heck no. What do you think I am? A Disney princess?" The girl looked at him like in fact; yes she though he was a Disney princess. Signing deeply Dean grumbled to himself. The lengths he goes to please children are ridiculous. The only saving grace was that Sam wasn't here to see the how far he had fallen. He actually enjoyed singing but had purposely gaged Sam with the most off-key singing whenever his brother had been listening. Dean thought for a moment before singing in surprisingly on key tone.
"Oh, the summertime is comin'
And the trees are sweetly bloomin'
And the wild mountain thyme
Grows around the purple heather
Will you go? Lassie, will you go?
And we'll all go together…"
The girl smiled up at him entranced by his voice. Dean trailed off and was violently poked again.
"Angels have wings and can sing,"
"Children are stubborn and manipulative." Dean shot back with no real venom.
The cold spread like ink through water as the night wore on. At one point it hurt but muscles became lifeless dead weights. Dean just prayed that if frost bite had to clam his arms that at least the girl would be spared.
He woke some time later and it was much darker. This time his wings were dragging on the ground and something was being dragged from his arms.
The next time he woke it was much warmer. Dean stretched his toes and wings into the covers in appreciation of the warmth of the bed. Snuggling into the depths of the covers he yawned like a large cat.
"I can't leave you alone for five minutes!"
Dean jack knifed in bed. Hedgehog haired, eyes wide he took in the cabin and Bobby with one wild disorientated glance. The cabin was not much to see. Two single beds with sleeping bags and a single pillow each. The only other thing in the cabin their duffels and stash of dry food.
"Leave you alone for five minutes you get hypothermia and lost in the woods," Bobby snaps exasperated.
"Nice simple salt and burn, a little vacation in the woods and somehow you manage to nearly get your ass frozen off."
"How is she?" Dean asks afraid for the answer. He doesn't see the girl in the other twin bed. She not in the one room cabin. His heart is hammering in his chest. Had Bobby had her taken to her parents? The hospital? Buried behind the cabin? Had he got her killed?
"Who?" Bobby ask concerned etched in to the lines of his face.
"The kid. She saved my life. Kept waking me up. She was with me in the woods."
"Son, you were alone when I found you." The warmth was sucked out of the room.
"What."
Sudden comprehension dawned on Bobby face. "You were incredibly cold son way too cold for September. Was she cold to the touch?"
"It's fall, it was raining of course she was cold." denied Dean but he had a sinking felting in his gut that he knew were this conversation was heading.
"Was she about sevenish with long black hair?" asked Bobby. Dean nodded relief flooding him. Bobby had seen the kid. Maybe she had just run off. Maybe the universe would give him a break.
"Dean, hikers had been reporting siting of a child in the woods. They were following her to help and they would get lost. Ten years ago according to the rangers a family a mother, father and girl were lost in the woods. The mother body was found with stab wounds the father was convicted but the kid was never found. She was assumed dead. Dean, I came here on a salt and burn and I think you found the ghost."
No, no, no. Dean blinked rapidly wings turning angry eddies. Glancing up at Bobby anger causing a blue power to swirl in the emerald depths.
"She wasn't luring me to my death."
"She a lost soul. A ghost. Are you saying you found Casper the friendly ghost?
"She kept me from drifting off. She saved me." That's when Dean understood. He looked down at his lap wings stilling. The ghost, the girl had finally made her point.
All it had taken was the nap and any traces of frost bite had been erased by whatever supernatural healing ability Dean possessed. Basking in the late afternoon sun wings soaking up the rays Dean felt like a lion sunning as he yawned lazily. Dean was hoping Bobby hadn't found anything in the old drainage ditch. He should have known better than to hope. The rough wood handle of a shovel was forced into his palm.
"Time to get to work," grunted Bobby.
The drainage ditch was dry nothing more than a dirt trench which was easy turned up. Four hours of digging before Bobby shovel crutched through a hard object. The long beached white object was a small thigh bone. There was no coffin of course this was a murder not a burial. Dump in a ditch literally. Dean felt queasy. The salt felt like a led weigh in his palm. His own body trembled in a sudden sliver the cold reaching bones. It was only when a small puff of air was visible as Bobby breathed out did Dean realize the cold was external. Gentle fingers lanced through his left hand by his side. They felt like icicles against his skin.
"Angel?" the girl looks up at Dean a worried expression drawing her brows together. She was smaller than Dean remembered. She wore the same clothes as at the playground. The crack of the shot gun discharging was deafening. Rock salt shredded the ghost into whips of colored smoke.
"Light her up," snapped Bobby, lowering the shot gun. Gritting his teeth and reminding himself that this was his job Dean flicked the lighter. The tiny fame danced happily in his hand as he hesitated a moment too long.
"I don't want to die!" the cry was high-pitched and frantic. An accompanying blast of compressed air radiated out from the ghost slamming into Dean tossing him to the ground in a flurry of feathers.
Bang. The second shot of rock salt caused the shock wave to stop. Dean snatched the lighter from where it had fallen. Bobby offering a hand to pull him to his feet which Dean brushed off.
A small figured blurred into view between Dean and the grave. Bobby snapped the reloaded shot gun shut bring it to bare.
Dean reached out for the barrel shoving it down toward the dirt.
"Don't Bobby, she just scared." Bobby looked at Dean like he had suggested that he should go out for a manicure. It was one thing for Dean to grow wings it was another for the great hunting Dean Winchester to not want to hunt a ghost.
"She a ghost Dean she doesn't belong here."
The girl stood head hung low shoulder hutched dark hair framing her round face.
"I don't want to go. I don't want to be alone. I just want my mommy." The girl voice sounded younger than ever before her eyes bright with tears. Dean took a step towards the ghost. Placing himself between Bobby and the lost child. He knelt in front of the girl so he was eye to eye with the girl he stuck his hand in to his pocket pulling out a rumbled green bill and handed the dollar to the girl.
"You will never be truly be alone. I promise." The words in his head had just been meaningless comfort. Before he had met the child, he would have scoffed at the chick flick moment but as he spoke them he came to the realization that he believed them. With that he wrapped his arms around the ghost girl who was nearly shallowed by the much larger mans arms.
"I'm going to find a way to get you home." Dean promised giving little thought to the how of the promise concentrating on the why. The white wings pumped downward in one violent motion. A gust of wind that had been caught by the down draft blasted Bobby causing him to shut his eyes against the sting and knocking his baseball cap from his head. It was only a moment but when he opened his eyes again the girl was gone. And so was Dean.
"Dean," called Bobby heart pounding with worry but he wasn't surprised when the only answer was the chirp of a robin. Bobby rushed to the grave his own lighter in hand. If that girl had done something to Dean she wouldn't continue to be a ghost to enjoy it. The bones never got a chance to burn. Crumbling to ash, the dust was free to dance in the wind with only the old hunter as a witness.