New year, new chapter! Enjoy it and leave me some love. - Tyler
Night came and went somberly. Deciding against starting for Cicero due to the high levels of exhaustion (not to mention stress) of all parties, the group bunked down in the Shiloh Inn. Adam had magnanimously offered Sam his room (muttering some comment about broken TVs and deadbeat towns with no nightlife), opting instead to share a second room with Dean and Pierce. Nate had fallen asleep on the bathroom floor and hadn't so much as stirred when redeposited on Adam's bed – which, all angles considered, was probably a good thing.
Dean had spent the night in an easy chair across from Adam's bed, trying to ignore his handgun on the desk beside him and praying to God he wouldn't have to use it that night. He had worried for both of his brothers, for Nate and Castiel. He'd checked his phone and found a slew of missed calls from Lisa and a text message from Ben.
Dad, please come home. I miss you. I'm sorry.
Dean decided to clear his head once 6 A.M rolled around and Adam hadn't so much as stirred, let alone attempted to rip anybody guts out. He strolled under the fresh, broken dawn with his hands stuffed in the pockets of his trusty jacket and paused to sit on the hood of the Impala. The streets surrounding the hotel were deserted, and Dean soaked up the white noise with a deep inhale.
"Finally. You're alone."
For once, Dean didn't jump. He merely closed his eyes and grit his jaw.
"Took you long enough yourself."
"I've been busy." Castiel moved to stand beside him, stark blue eyes trained on the empty pavement ahead, "Heaven is growing restless. They've asked me to eliminate Winters…" He locked eyes with Dean as the hunter cast him a heavy-lidded glare, "…personally."
"I'm guessing they're not exactly clued in on the little conflict of interest you got going." Dean replied neutrally, and Castiel frowned.
"What do you mean?"
"You know damn well what I mean!" Dean's voice rose two octaves as he abandoned his calm veneer and turned to Castiel with anger blazing in his eyes, "You blacklisted my niece – like she didn't have enough enemies, by the way – because you want that goddamn book so bad you'd make nice with Crowley for it. Crowley!" He shoved off from the hood of the Impala in disgust before turning back to the angel, "I mean, come on, Cas! Haven't you learned enough from me and Sam? That kind of shit never ends well, for anyone!"
Castiel leant forward, eyes stalwart and unapologetic, "Nate is lying to you, Dean. What happened that night had nothing to do with a book. Your 'niece' is here to kill Sam. That's why I denounced her."
"Yeah I'm gonna have to call bullshit on that one," Dean snapped, "Especially seein' as how Nate got bit by a truth serum last night and is under some kinda freaky obligation to tell the truth!"
Castiel tilted his head, jaw slackening slightly, "I don't understand."
"Someone hexed her." Dean explained tersely, green eyes smouldering at the fact, "Kid spent most of last night spillin' all her dirty secrets, and so far, 'Must Kill Daddy' didn't make the list!"
Castiel digested this information with strained, farway eyes. "Crowley. He must have cast the spell in an attempt to bring Winters' true colors to the fore. It's…curious that she hasn't spoken of this yet. Perhaps it's too deeply buried."
"Or there's nothing to tell!" The oldest Winchester insisted.
"Well then why don't we ask her?" Castiel leant into Dean's personal space, his face dangerously confident.
Dean was incredulous, "You just got voted Heavenly Hitman, and you think I'm gonna let you near my brother's little girl?"
"She is no 'little girl', Dean!" Castiel advanced on his mortal friend, eyes wide and deadly serious, "Nate Winters is in league with one of the most powerful demons known to man. You of all people know that nothing good can come of it!"
"Yeah you're probably right." Dean acknowledged with a tone that was almost wistful, "But I'll tell you somethin', Cas; if everything that's broken just got thrown away, Sam and I wouldn't be here right now…and come to think of it, neither would you."
Castiel's stare deadpanned, "That is irrelevant."
Dean shook his head bitterly, sad eyes trained on his friend, "What the hell happened to you, man?"
"I'm doing this to protect you and Sam." The angel responded softly, "I'm sorry if you can't understand that."
"Oh I understand." Dean nodded angrily, "I understand that cuz of your latest power struggle, my niece is now a target! You know, she didn't have to put her ass on the line to stop this planet from turning into a stinking Croat fest," His voice grew louder and his face darker with each word, "but she did it anyway, and you know what else? If it wasn't for her, it would've! So you can take your accusations, and your bruised ego, and you can shove them up your righteous ass!"
"How dare you?" Castiel became angry, indignation bristling in his voice, "How dare you accuse me of setting pride above our friendship, after everything we've been through?" He gripped Dean's arm forcefully, "You don't think I want to be wrong about this, about Sam's only child ripping time at the seams just so she could kill him? This is not about a power struggle. This is about protecting my friends, and if you of all people can't understand that, then you can kiss my righteous ass!"
Dean would have laughed at how awkward those words sounded coming from Castiel – on any other day. Instead he eyed his friend silently as the angel released his grip.
"I would never kill your blood, unless you asked it of me." Castiel informed him grimly, "But I am warning you, Dean. I will be watching - very closely. And at the first sign that Nate is moving in on Sam, I will send her back through the time portal without a moment's hesitation, regardless of how it may jeopardize her treaty with Oplexicon. And yes, I can do it."
Dean started forward, "Cas…"
The angel vanished.
Dean closed his eyes and let out a long, pained exhale.
He needed some coffee.
Returning to the hotel with coffee and bagels for five, Dean was surprised to find Sam and Adam engaged in a quiet, tense conversation in the hall outside their rooms.
"What's going on?" He wasn't sure he wanted to know.
"Oh, nothing. Sam just wants to make sure he doesn't have to kill me before breakfast." Adam's casual sarcasm was obviously his coping method for intense situations, "You know, seeing as it's only a matter of time before I go all 'I am Legend' on everybody."
"I just asked him how he was doing." Sam looked like shit, Dean noticed. His jaw sported a heavy shadow of stubble, his eyes had dark circles underneath red rims and he was wearing the same t-shirt and jeans as the previous night.
"I'm doing great." Adam, on the other hand, appeared in considerably better health, "Oh, except I'm getting this real craving for small intestine. You didn't happen to grab any while you were making the food run, did you?"
"No, but I bought a shovel and a shotgun and I'm pretty sure no one'd miss you." Dean was in no mood for his youngest brother's lip, shoving the tray of coffees into his hands and striding into his room, "Where's Pierce?"
"In the shower." Adam sullenly followed him and Sam into the room, placing the coffees on the table and selecting one he deemed to be the largest before flipping on the TV.
"And Nate?" Dean addressed Sam in a quieter tone as said brother leaned against the doorframe with an air of exhaustion.
"Sleeping, last I checked. She woke up screaming a lot." Sam scrubbed a hand over his face and accepted the coffee Dean handed him, "Kept trying to apologize for stuff. I can't wait till this truth hex shit is over."
"You and her both, I bet." Dean didn't want to hover. He knew how much Sam hated to be coddled. But he was worried and he had good cause. Not only was his brother mentally and physically exhausted, but Dean was sure that all of Pollyanna Nate's confession sessions, not to mention the dread of whatever else might still come out, were draining Sam emotionally as well.
"You wanna get some shuteye?" Dean made the suggestion as casually as possible, "I can keep tabs on the kid for a bit, maybe get her to eat something."
"No," Sam instantly refuted, taking a giant gulp of his coffee and wincing at its bitter tang, "I'm good. I don't want Nate…fake Nate…feeling any worse than she already does."
A sudden crash from the adjoining room had both brothers bursting through the threshold in a matter of seconds. Dean had drawn his gun before he was even fully conscious of doing so, following Sam into the hotel room where the twisted wreck of the TV still rested in the corner.
"Nate?" Sam called out, sounding frazzled and worried and very unlike himself in general.
"Sorry!" The object of his concern poked her head around the corner of the wall.
Dean and Sam were equally taken aback by the sight that greeted them. Nate's normally messy tresses were pulled back in a tasteful half-ponytail that revealed for the first time ever the entirety of her face – a face that was, also for the first time ever, make-up free. This (combined with a salmon-colored turtleneck which was about as un-Nate-like attire as one could ever imagine) made the girl, who normally hid behind her chiselled features, smoky eyes and subtly-provocative clothing, look all of 15 years old.
"Sorry!" Nate repeated, oblivious to the stares of the brothers, "I just stepped out to get some food and on my way back, I tripped over some of the TV wiring." She misinterpreted their silence and broke into a worried expression, "I'm sorry if I scared you guys! God, I'm so freaking clumsy…"
"It's fine!" Sam said in what he had obviously intended to be a reassuring tone, but the snap to it suggested he was running low on just about everything right then.
"What's all this?" Dean pocketed his gun and waved a finger at a number of foil-wrapped cartons on the table which Nate had begun unwrapping, "You uh rob the farmer's market or something?" He noticed what looked like some kind of zucchini salad and fought disbelief.
"You told me to eat more vegetables." Nate spoke quietly as she began cutting up a carrot with her father's hunting knife, "I figured I had some catching up to do if I want to knock off everything on my list."
"Your list?" Dean turned to his brother in complete bewilderement before following Sam's gaze to a crumpled, tattered piece of paper laid out on the table beside Nate's impromptu salad bar.
"Dad gave me a list of foods I'm supposed to eat to help my liver problem." Nate was still chopping as she spoke, eyebrows knit in concentration, "And, since the majority of them were vegetables, and since I hate vegetables, I decided to just eat them in one go."
Another moment of silence passed, lingering long enough for the young girl to look up from her food prep with wide, worried eyes, "Are you guys mad? Because I just realized, I totally forgot to ask permission before I went, but I couldn't find anyone and it was only the shop on the curb, which of course is no excuse, it's only…"
The frantic dialogue continued, but Sam had zoned out. He turned to Dean with both hands up in cold resignation.
"I can't. I can't stand seeing her like this. It's…" He shook his head with closed eyes, and Dean silently finished his brother's sentence with the words that no Winchester would ever stoop to say.
It's upsetting me.
"…and then the guy at the cash register was like 'we don't have any artichokes here' and I said that was impossible because they had passion fruit," Nate was still rambling nervously as she returned to her vegetables, "and how can you have passion fruit and not have artichokes? It's crazy…"
Dean tried to pacify him, "Sammy, she's acting like a normal kid…"
"Well she is not a normal kid!" Sam whisper-yelled, leaning in on Dean with anger in his eyes, "I hate this. I wanted her to tell me things when she was ready, to call me Dad when she was ready!"
Sam was breathing heavily and Dean quickly snagged his arm, leading him out into the hallway and shutting the door behind them.
"Sammy, you need to get some sleep." It was not a suggestion.
"Yeah well I can't, Dean!" Sam barked furiously, "I just spent the last 12 hours holding Nate while she bawled her eyes out and told me everything that happened to her while she lived with Geri! You think the shit she said before was nasty? Because she was holding back!"
Shit. Dean grew sober at the revelation, wishing desperately that he knew what to tell his brother. The anguish in Sam's tired eyes was making him sick.
Sam ran his hands through his knotted hair and left them there with a sigh, "I should've been there for her. I can't believe I let this happen."
"You didn't let it happen, Sam. You didn't know!"
"That's not enough!" Sam yelled suddenly and his hands fell, balling into fists by his side as his chest broadened with indignation, "Nate was right. I should've known this was happening. I was having visions, Dean – I should've seen it!"
"That's ridiculous and you know it." Dean kept his tone low in an effort to bring Sam's back to normal, but his green eyes blazed with anger, "Those visions were tied to Yellow Eyes. That's the only reason you had'em, and when we killed him, the visions stopped."
Sam slumped against the wall, digging his thumbs into his belt loops and staring dejectedly at the paisley carpet at his feet.
"She told me…" He whispered, and Dean moved closer and ducked his head slighty to level with his brother, "….she told me that once she turned 12, Geri would just dump her in the ghettos and tell her to 'come back with the rent, or don't come back at all'." Sam looked up at Dean, and there were tears in his eyes, "How could someone do that to their own child?"
Dean leant against the wall, his shoulder brushing Sam's as his hands made their way to his own pockets, "I dunno, man. I guess demons had to come from somewhere." He imagined Ben roaming cold, dangerous streets with that threat hanging over his head. It burned him just to think about it.
"I can't do it, Dean." Sam continued despondently, "I thought I wanted to hear all Nate's secrets, but I don't. I'm just not strong enough."
This was a speech Dean knew how to give, "Well Sam, I hate to break it to you, but that's called being a parent. Sometimes…most of the time, in fact…you gotta be the strong one, even if you gotta fake it."
Sam looked down once more, long hair tucked behind his ears and eyes hiding under his bangs as he twisted his watch around his wrist, "And if I can't?"
"We'll get through it together," Dean nudged his brother, "Like we always do."
Sam said nothing and his eyes remained glued to the floor, but Dean saw his shoulders slacken in acceptance.
"Now go on." Dean pushed off from the wall, "Why don't you get some sleep, huh? I think I can handle the rugrats for a couple hours."
"Yeah. Okay." Sam was evidently beyond exhausted from his night vigil, and although he still looked anxious, the pace at which he headed for Dean's room suggested a glimmer of relief.
Dean made it to the doorway just in time to see Sam collapse on the nearest bed, face-down. He was already out like a light as Dean ushered Adam and Pierce (who barely had time to grab a fresh change of clothes from the shower) back into the hallway.
Dean closed the door as quietly as possible and turned to address the pair.
"You wake him up, you're dead."
"Fine. But in the meantime, maybe we should take a look at that USB little Natey got and find out exactly what the deal with this body is before the whole parking lot starts to notice the smell." Adam was already heading towards Sam's room.
"Great, and while we're at it, she can check you for Croatoan." Dean replied in an equally breezy manner as he caught up to his little brother, "Seeing as 'little Natey's' got the most experience in that particular area. You don't mind, do you?"
"Whatever." Adam shrugged, but his discomfort was evident as they paused outside the door, "Guess at the day I owe her one, you know? If she didn't do what she did, I'd still be…there." He fiddled with the folds of his shirt and stared at the ground for a moment, "She didn't say why she yanked me out, did she?"
"I don't think Nate really knows why she does things half the time." Dean turned the door handle, "I just know I'm damn glad she did." He caught Adam's eyes as he uttered the last sentence, transferring the full weight of meaning his words carried.
Adam bit his lip and nodded, "Me too."
Dean opened the door, stepping across the threshold and muttering something to Adam about hoping he liked rabbit food. They both froze at the sight of said food scattered across the floor and Nate's slender body convulsing unnaturally against the carpet.
"Nate!" Dean ran to her side, dropping to one knee and moving to grab the girl, only to be knocked to one side as Nate arched clear off the ground with a scream.
"Jesus!" Adam barked in disbelief as Dean leapt to his feet and Nate did full figure of eight, smashing against the walls and bouncing off the closet three feet off the ground. Pierce slammed the door behind them, clutching his close-cropped hair helplessly.
As soon as she got within grabbing distance, Adam dive-tackled his niece, using his considerable weight advantage to pin her underneath him on the floor.
"Dean, what the hell is this?" He called out to his brother even as he wrestled with Nate's gyrating frame.
Dean said nothing, falling to his knees beside them and unbuckling his belt with fast, efficient hands. His face was set in a determined expression as he tugged Nate's head up and shoved the strap of leather between her teeth.
"Don't let go of her, Adam!" Dean ordered over the noises of agony Nate was making.
Adam complied, renewing his vicegrip as Pierce moved to restrain Nate's flailing legs. The ugly scene lasted another agonizing pair of minutes before it was over. All three men slumped, panting from the ordeal even as they turned their attentions to the limp girl lying prostrate on the carpet.
Dean brushed at the sweaty locks that had come loose from their elastic, eyes knit in that same worried look he had graced Adam with the night before…and something even darker.
"What the hell was that?" Adam repeated, resting his palms against the floor behind him as he sat back in complete shock.
Nate moaned, opening red-rimmed eyes to gaze at the green ones above her.
"Dean," She murmured, "I'm…I'm sorry."
Dean said nothing, made no move to reassure her as he pointedly removed his hands from Nate's shoulders and clenched them tightly beside his knees.
The gesture didn't go unnoticed and Nate closed her eyes, a tear rolling down her cheek as she did so.
"Dean," Adam repeated, growing more agigated by the minute, "What?"
Again, Dean refused to answer. He stood up, replaced his belt in silence and stood over his niece for a fleeting moment. The hunter seemed to be struggling for words, opening and closing his mouth before he rubbed a hand across it and turned away.
"How long?" The gravely tone to his voice suggested Dean was close to tears himself, and Pierce gave Adam a truly petrified expression.
Nate seemed to know exactly what her uncle meant by that. She swallowed and rose to her elbows, dry lips barely moving as she spoke.
"Since before I got here."
"What?" Adam snapped, rising to his feet and turning to Dean, "What the hell is she talking about?"
Dean had shut down after Nate's last admission, and he flashed Adam his back as he abruptly left the room, slamming the door in his wake.
Adam threw up his hands in frustration before he returned to Nate, squatting in front of her even as Pierce helped the girl into a sitting position.
"What is this?" Adam demanded, and she shook her head slowly and scraped a shaky hand across her nose.
"You don't want to know, Adam."
That particular statement couldn't have been further from the truth. The sandy-haired young man let out a low growl.
"Tell me."
"Adam…" Pierce began angrily, but Nate cut him off with a weak wave of her hand.
"Last year, my cirhossis got so bad, I couldn't walk. I could barely move. I had no way of defending myself and…that's the kind of thing that gets you killed back where I'm from." She shuddered with an aftershock, eyes trained on the ground as she brought one jean-clad knee up to her chest, "This old lady who I used to throw bread at sometimes took pity on me…brought me stuff and kept the Croats off my lawn. I remember one night I was just vomiting and vomiting blood and I couldn't stop. Thought I was gonna die, and…" Nate let out a soft huff, "truth be told, I probably was. Next thing I knew, the old hag was shoving something warm down my throat. I didn't know what it was at the time; all I knew was the puking stopped."
Adam felt a cold dread creep across his skin and raise goosebumps in its wake. All at once, he knew where this little anecdote was going.
Oh no…
Nate was shivering steadily now, sweat beading on a temple so pale it was almost grey.
"I…by the time I caught on to what that lady fed me for three solid days to keep me alive, it was too late. I was…I'm still…hooked on demon blood. I've been drinking it every couple days to keep my strength up, but the last time I had some was Boulder."
Pierce gave Adam a guarded expression over the top of Nate's head. The two eased a sweaty, pale Nate onto her bed and went to take five in the corner.
Pierce dipped his head to meet Adam's eyes, "We can't tell Sam about this." He whispered, "If he finds out, he'll flip."
"Yeah that's if Dean hasn't told him already." For once, Adam was in agreement with the student, stuffing his hands into his pockets forcefully and sighing, "I'd better go find him before he does something stupid. Think you handle the junkie?"
"Why are you always such an asshole to her?" Pierce snapped, "You do realize if it wasn't for Nate, you wouldn't be here right now? How about playing nice for once, okay?"
"Okay, okay!" Adam threw up his hands, eyebrows raising as he did so, "Man, you got it bad. Try a cold shower or something."
"I could try drowning you in one." Pierce muttered, glancing over his shoulder at a groan from Nate as she thrashed restelessly on the bed.
"Whatever." Adam wore the makings of a smirk as he ran his palm across the tips of his messy hair, "Just don't come crying to me when Sam makes mincemeat outta you for ogling his broken little princess."
Pierce crashed into the youngest Winchester, shoving him up against the wall with both hands on his collar. Adam laughed in his face.
"You really wanna do this? Cuz you have no idea how many different shades of shit I can knock out of you, Honor Roll."
"I don't care." Pierce kept up his grip on the collar of Adam's shirt and glared into his face, "Meg's henchman rode me for six months; you think I'm scared of you?"
"Guys!" Nate's weak call had them both turning towards her, Adam yanking Pierce's hands off him as they did so.
Nate was sitting on the edge of the bed, head between her knees and shaking hands cupping the top of her head.
"I…I need it." The words came out in a shameful whisper, and she seized handfuls of her matted hair desperately.
Adam's face contorted in anger, "Are you freaking kidding me? Forget it!"
"It's not…" Nate laboriously raised her head, and both men noted a tendril of blood mucuous staining her chin as she did so, "It's not for kicks, Adam. I'm dying…I'll die without it!"
If Dean had been there to hear his brother's own words echoed - "I'm not drinking demon blood for kicks, Dean!"- his pain would have tripled. But he wasn't there. Adam was there. And Adam had mastered his own personal coping method for pain a long time ago.
"Watch her." He barked to Pierce, heading for the door determinedly. The med student snagged his arm.
"Where the hell are you going?"
"To get some handcuffs!" Adam responded matter-of-factly, wrenching his arm free before he left the room, door clicking shut somberly behind him.
Pierce's jaw dropped in disbelief, and he shook his head with eyes closed tightly against the sight of Nate's shuddering body as she abruptly hurled once more over the side of the bed.
"Hey!" Pierce ran to her side, kneeling beside her and holding back her hair as she retched, "It's okay." He had studied liver cirhossis briefly and had a dreadful theory that Nate's had developed some life-threatening complications. Once she had finished, Pierce handed her a tissue and eased her onto her back.
Nate wiped her face shakily, "Sorry."
"Don't apologize." Pierce sat beside her on the bed, "I…I need to check something, and I need you to trust me."
Nate's skin was beginning to appear jaundiced and her eyes fluttered weakly, but she nodded.
"I…I trust you."
Pierce gingerly lifted up the hem of Nate's sweater, revealing a flat, white stomach riddled with scars of different shapes and sizes. Pierce wasn't looking at the scars. He was looking at the angry blue lines bulging unnaturally against her skin.
"Oh shit." Pierce breathed, dropping the sweater with trembling hands he then pressed against his forehead. Nate's cirhossis had developed a complication alright – variceal bleeding. And judging by the looks of it, it had been going on for far too long.
He had to help her. He had no choice.