Chapter 29: Consider That Your Warning
Sam and Dean's case in Oklahoma took them a week and a half, longer than they'd anticipated. There had been a slew of vampire attacks, and the nest had been much harder to locate and infiltrate than either brother had imagined.
Dean had managed to call Sophie every night, but she had sounded distracted each time they talked. By the fifth night he was starting to get a little concerned. Was something going on at school? Was it Mason? It had to be Mason, she didn't have any other problems in her life.
Dean was starting to feel terrible, going off on a hunt while some asshole kid was making his daughter's life hell.
He decided that once they were done with the hunt, he would go back, make Sophie tell him just what it was that Mason had done, and then kick the kid's ass into the twenty-second century.
When, in fact, they had finally taken out the nest of vamps, not without sustaining a few bumps and bruises, Dean voiced his concern on the drive home. They'd been driving for a few hours when Dean suddenly turned down the volume mid-Metallica song. "What do you think Mason did?" he asked Sam gruffly.
"We don't know that he did anything, Dean," Sam said for what he felt was the thousandth time as he adjusted the sling that supported his arm. A vampire had tossed him across a room and he'd landed on his wrist, fracturing it.
Dean rolled his eyes. "C'mon, Sam, you talked to her, too. Something's up with her."
"Yeah, and she's a teenage girl. It could be anything. It could be a bad grade or a tough class or that boy she likes or friend trouble or a hundred other things. It doesn't mean it's Mason."
"Sam, c'mon, you can't tell me you're not worried about it," Dean said.
"Of course I am," Sam said, still playing with the frustrating strap on his sling. "But she told us that Mason isn't a big deal, and so far there hasn't been a reason to believe otherwise."
"You're right, I guess," Dean admitted, annoyed that Sam was right. He didn't say anything for a moment. "But if Mason actually did do something, we're ripping him a new one."
"Of course," Sam replied.
Satisfied, Dean turned the music back up, and they continued onward for several more hours until finally, they made it back to the bunker.
When they did, the parked the car outside and made their way inside. Dean was thinking about all the ways he was going to kill Mason as they descended the stairs, and Sam was still adjusting the strap of his sling, as he never seemed to be able to get it into a position that was comfortable.
"Hey, Soph!" Dean called out as they reached the bottom of the stairs. "We're back."
There was a tiny shuffle down one of the halls that branched off from the main room, and then Sophie appeared. Dean was a little shocked at her appearance. Despite the fact that it was late afternoon on a Thursday, she was wearing pajamas. Her hair was down, framing her face with unruly red-gold waves, looking like it hadn't been brushed in days. There were bags under her eyes, like she hadn't been sleeping.
"You look rough," Dean said right off the bat, dumping his duffle bag onto the table.
"It's been a weird week," Sophie said as she rubbed her eyes, her voice a little cracked, like she'd just gotten up from a coma. "How was the hunt?"
"Successful. Long, but successful," Dean said.
Sophie looked behind his shoulder and saw Sam. "Oh my God, Sam! What happened?"
"It's nothing," Sam said, waving away Sophie's concern. "A little fracture. Nothing a few days off won't fix."
Sophie nodded, still looking concerned, but more in an adorable way than anything else. "Well, if you're sure you're okay, I've got a lot of work to do, so I'll see you two around."
"Woah, woah, hold up," Dean said as she turned to go. "Come back for a sec."
She turned, wary. "What?"
"Is everything…alright with you?" he asked, wanting to tread carefully so as to not scare her away from talking to him.
"Of course," she replied too quickly. "Why?"
"You've sounded distracted on the phone," Sam interjected, backing Dean up. "And you look, well, like Dean said, rough."
She rolled her eyes. "A girl doesn't do her hair and makeup and suddenly she looks rough. You guys sure know how to boost my confidence."
"C'mon, Soph, you know I'm right," Dean continued, eyes narrowed in thought as he looked at her. "What's going on?"
"It's nothing," she said, eyes down. Dean knew that she knew she'd been caught in a lie.
After a few moments of nobody saying anything, Dean shook his head. "I'm going to kill him," he proclaimed.
At that, Sophie looked up in surprise. "Wait, what? Who?"
"Cut the crap, Sophie, you know who," Dean said, eyes narrowed. "Mason. Clearly this fight between you two has escalated beyond your control and he's done something."
Sophie rolled her eyes. "God, Dean, how many times do I have to tell you, I've got Mason covered! He hasn't done anything out of the ordinary."
Dean eyed her skeptically. "If it's not Mason, then what's up with you?"
"I…," Sophie started, looking like she wished she could be anywhere else. "Well…."
"Kid, c'mon, spit it out," Dean said impatiently.
Sophie looked like for a moment, she would pass out from holding in whatever she wanted to say. And then she blurted out, "Ruby, Sam? You slept with Ruby? Even I could've told you that was a crappy decision from a mile away!"
Dean and Sam froze, mouths open in shock. Clearly, they hadn't seen that one coming. When she saw that neither of them was going to speak, she continued.
"And, holy crap, Dean. Why couldn't you see that you and Jo were made for each other. Like seriously, if your bastard daughter can see that then I'm pretty sure you can. And Sam, you used to be so messed up with your whole demon blood addiction, why the hell did you think that'd be a good road to go down? And you're afraid of clowns? Really? And…and…Dean, oh my God, you went to Hell, like, actual Hell, and—"
Dean held up a hand, the kind that signaled an immediate end to her rambling. Sophie shut her mouth mid-thought, biting on her lip in nervousness.
Both Dean and Sam were deathly quiet, just staring at her in shock, and she looked back at them. Dean could tell she was studying them, looking at them with new eyes. And then he knew, and he turned back to Sam.
"She found the books," he said. "I was so afraid she'd find the books."
Sam's eyes widened with understanding. "Crap."
Dean turned back to Sophie. "This is why you've been acting so weird on the phone? You've been reading those Supernatural books?"
"Jack had them on his shelf," she explained defensively. "And I saw the cover and thought it looked interesting and then I read the back cover and I could tell something was up. So I read the first couple of pages, and when I realized they were about you, I borrowed them all and I've been reading nonstop for almost two weeks. I'm at the part now where you and Ruby are having sex while Dean's in Hell, Sam, and let me tell you, Carver Edlund is incredibly explicit and I keep having to skip huge chunks of some chapters because he's so descriptive and I'm really not comfortable reading—"
"Okay, just stop," Dean cut in, closing his eyes and shaking his head. "I'll get sick if you start talking about Sam's terrible sex life."
Sam looked offended. "Look, sleeping with Ruby was not the best idea, yeah, but that doesn't mean my sex life was terrible. In fact, the sex was awesome."
"Oh my God," Sophie said, covering her ears. "There are things you say in front of your niece, Sam, and then there are things you don't say in front of your niece, and that was one of those things."
Sam just shrugged, shoving his hands into his pockets.
Dean turned to Sophie. "Look, everything in those books, it's all…."
"Completely true," she cut in. "I asked Cas, and he told me. Apparently these are going to be the freaking Winchester Gospels one day."
"Damn it, Cas," Dean grumbled, shifting his eyes to Sam, who looked equally peeved.
"It's like reading your biography," Sophie continued, her eyes excited. "You two are...incredible."
As frustrating as it was, Dean could understand why she was obsessing over the books. They were her ticket into the lives of her family, a way to understand him and Sam in a way she couldn't before.
In a way, Dean was jealous that she had the books. He would never be able to understand her like a father should; he would never get those first fifteen years back, would never get a book detailing the adventures of infant Sophie, or toddler Sophie, or preteen Sophie. He was surprised at himself as he thought it, but he'd kill for some stories of her first day at school, or her first piano recital, or her first curse word.
So yes, he understood how excited she was to have the books. But it didn't mean he had to like it.
"How the hell did you read so many of them in a week and a half?" Dean muttered, more to himself than anything else, shaking his head.
"I can't put them down," she admitted. "I mean…a lot of crap has happened to you guys, and…some of it sounds like it was heartbreaking and terrifying, but…it's impossible to stop reading. You two have the most interesting lives, as terrible as it sounds."
"Yeah," Dean scoffed derisively. "Our lives could be a damn TV show."
"I'm just saying," she amended, "that whoever figured out they could profit off of your crazy lives is smart. Maybe a little heartless, but smart."
"His name was actually Chuck," Sam cut in, looking incredibly uncomfortable, as one probably would after finding out their niece was reading books that detailed all of one's endeavors, sexual or otherwise. "He wasn't heartless. Definitely something a little off with him, but not heartless."
"Yeah, well, Chuck's got one thing way wrong in all of these books," Sophie said.
Dean raised his eyebrow. As far as he knew, Chuck had gotten pretty much every single detail of his books right, thanks to his creepy prophet powers. "What's that?"
"I don't think there's any homoerotic tension between you and Sam," she said matter-of-factly. "And I would know. I just did a project on it for school."
"Oh, for the love of God," Dean said, throwing his hands up and walking out of the room, and as he disappeared into the kitchen, he was grumbling suggestions about what Chuck could go do to himself that appropriately rhymed with the author's name.
Sophie was grinning as she watched him go, and then she turned back to Sam. "Seriously, Sam? Ruby?"
"She was hotter as a brunette," he grumbled. "I should go make sure Dean hasn't set fire to all those books."
He walked away, and Sophie, feeling like a weight had just been lifted off her shoulders, went back to her room to continue reading.
Two months went by in relative normality. Sam and Dean went on hunts, Sophie went to school, Cas watched movies. There was a rhythm to life that Sophie hadn't had since her mom died. And it was nice, finally feeling comfortable with someone. She was starting to feel like Dean's daughter and like Sam's niece; she was starting to feel like family.
And everything was going great until student government elections.
Sophie had quickly become a beloved member of the student body. Although Jack, Jamie, and Harry remained her closest friends, especially Jack, everyone else soon came to like her. She had a magnetic personality, a lovable mixture of quiet, smart, kind, and witty, and she quickly grew onto her teachers and classmates.
So when the sophomore class president Elise Thompson had to step down from her position because she got caught with pot on campus, and the current vice president Mike Taylor didn't want to take on the responsibility of president, Principal Grayling declared there would be an election to select a president for the spring semester. And suddenly people were asking Sophie if she was going to run.
At first, she'd staunchly said no. After all, she was new, and she didn't really want to disrupt the school anymore than she already had with her now infamous feud with Mason. But the more people asked her, the more she considered it. She was good with people, and she was smart, and she had leadership skills. And admittedly, student government was something normal teenagers did. So why shouldn't she?
It was Jack who finally convinced her. They were sitting down at lunch when he asked, out of the blue, "So what's your slogan?"
She gave him a confused look. "My slogan?"
"Yeah, your campaign slogan? For class president?"
Sophie sighed. "I don't even know if I'm doing that, Jack," she said, annoyed.
"S, c'mon. You're the best one for the job."
"How do you know that?" Sophie asked, saying it jokingly but actually wondering in the back of her mind.
"Because you're smart, you don't take crap from people, you want to do what's best for everyone, and people like you and respect you," he rattled off without missing a beat. "Plus, if you don't run, Mason's going to win."
At that, Sophie's head snapped up. "Mason's running?"
Jack cracked a grin. "Oh. Now you're interested?"
"Mason can't be president," Sophie said shortly. "He's an asshole."
"We've established that pretty securely," Jack said, his grin widening a little. "The question is, is him being in the running enough to motivate Sophie Winchester to run as well?"
Sophie only hesitated for a moment. "Yes. Yes it is. Put me on the ballot."
Apparently, news that she was running for president circulated quickly, as news usually does in a small school. In chemistry the next period a few classmates came up to her and said they were glad she was running and that they were definitely voting for her. She smiled, thinking that maybe this was a good decision.
Jack had to leave early to go to a doctor's appointment, so Sophie walked alone to gym class. It was cold, customary for early February in Kansas, and it had snowed the entire night and into the morning, so she was bundled under a sweater, a jacket, and a beanie. The wind picked up as she crossed the quad, and she bent her head down, staring at her feet as she trudged towards the gym, glad that they were just going to play an indoor game of kickball that day.
Before she made it inside, though, she felt someone grab her backpack and yank her off to the side of the gym building. Before she could yell, whoever had grabbed her let go, and she was slung into a pile of snow, causing her backpack to fall off and the cold to seep through her clothes.
Shivering, she quickly scrambled to her feet and tried to brush as much snow as she could off of her body before looking for the culprit. She supposed she should've been less surprised to see Mason standing before her, a hard glint in his eyes.
She shoved her icy hands into her pockets and glared at him. "What the hell do you want, Mason?" she snapped. "It's freezing and we have gym."
"No, you and I have got something to settle here," he shot back. "I'm going to be the next class president, and you're going to back off. Got it?"
Sophie rolled her eyes. "Seriously, Mason? This is about student government? You need to reprioritize your life."
She was shocked when he leaned forward and pushed her against the building roughly. She was so surprised by the suddenness of the movement that she didn't immediately retaliate. "I don't need to do anything except win class president," he practically hissed at her. "Class president means that next year I'll be eligible for school president during senior year, and all the school presidents get to go to a conference in Washington, D.C. All of my brothers have made it to that conference, and that's where they got recommendation letters for colleges. So I have to go there, too."
Sophie pushed him off of her, trying not to let her teeth chatter. "Then win the election," she spat, more annoyed than anything else. It wasn't going to be easy to warm up after the ice bath Mason had just given her. "But I'm not taking my name off the ballot just so you can kiss a bunch of policy makers' asses to get into a college you're not smart enough to get into on your own."
She turned to leave, which she usually did after a bitch match with Mason, but this time was different. He grabbed her shoulder and pulled her back, eliciting a surprised yelp from her. He spun her around so that they were face to face, and then he grabbed her shoulders with both hands and used all of his force to throw her onto the ground. This time, she didn't land in a pile of snow, but on a slick sheet of ice on top of the rocky asphalt, and when her head cracked against the ground she felt her lip split open and begin to bleed.
"Consider that your warning, Winchester," Mason snapped as she slowly made her way onto her knees, a trail of blood glistening crimson in the snow. "Back off. I mean it."
He turned away from her, looking satisfied, a smug grin on his face. Her eyes narrowed, and as Mason began to leave she stood up and delivered a swift kick to the back of his right knee. Too surprised to make a sound, he collapsed onto all fours into the snow, at which time Sophie moved herself in front of him and threw her elbow into his face, feeling the sickening crunch of his nose as she broke it. He howled in pain, one hand on the ground to keep him upright, the other holding his bleeding nose.
Satisfied, she grabbed her backpack and turned to walk away, but then she heard Mason scrambling to his feet and she turned just as he lunged at her. The training with Sam and Dean kicked in, and she easily sidestepped him, watching as Mason flailed past her and slipped on the same patch of ice she'd busted her lip on. He fell back on all fours, winded, and she walked up to him and ended it by kicking him hard in the ribs, knocking him flat into the snow.
She stood over his splayed body, a thick stream of blood staining her lip and chin, but not nearly as bad as the waterfall gushing out of Mason's nose. "Consider that your warning," she said coolly. "We're doing this election fair and square. And if you touch me again, I'll break more than just your nose."
This time, she slung her backpack over her shoulder, and left him groaning in the snow.
Ahhhhh thank you guys so much for 200 reviews! All of your feedback has been so helpful and encouraging! You guys rock.
Also, I hope you're excited for the fallout of Sophie's inevitable fight with Mason. Good stuff.
Thanks as always for reading! ~ Lacey :)
