Author's Note: Hi, Everyone! I hope you all enjoyed your holiday. I'm sorry I was unable to respond to your reviews but I was terribly busy from when I posted on thursday to when I woke up yesterday morning and had the option to reply or to write this chapter. But I do want to thank angelofheaven001, numb3rs mystery, Taeriel, AlElizabeth, Mysterious Prophetess, Gustin azza, Ghibligirl91, Nyx Ro, savannaharaiza5, FireCHildSlytherin5, Dark Knight Warrior, roy23, BranchSuper, GreyPurpleBlack, Invader Kiwi, Eliza Ghost, mellen7, sabi064, Silvermoon of Forestclan, LilyBolt, Dev's Inferno, snseriesfan, elfinblue, Hasmik Aharonyan, androidtracker, and RoseDragon666 for their awesome reviews. I'll try to respond personally to you all as soon as I get a moment. I also want to thank all of you that reviewed my two oneshots EASTER EGG HUNTER and THE HUNTER WHO CRIED "APRIL FOOL'S" . If you haven't gotten a chance yet, please check them out.
Chapter Thirty-Six: At the Roadhouse
It was going to be getting busy in just a couple of hours but for now the Roadhouse was quiet. Saturday afternoons weren't a big draw for customers to come to an out of the way bar. Sure they sold burgers, and fries, and other diner-type foods and they catered to families taking long road trips, but the large crowds always seemed to be hunters showing up after dark for their fix of alcohol. Bill sighed as he wiped down the counter before replacing the napkin holder on its surface. Most hunters really didn't need to be drinking the levels of alcohol that they typically consumed when they stopped by. But it did make their stories more amusing. Like that guy that claimed to have beheaded a vampire with a safety-pin.
"What's the smile for?"
Bill turned to face his wife. "Just thinking of your beauty, hon."
"Wow… good line. But you can save them. After these past six months and knowing what's to come in the next three, you're never getting near me again."
"You know that it'll all be worth it as soon as you see our little baby boy's handsome face."
Ellen gave him that look. The one that told him to stop handing her the BS before she crammed it back down his throat. "First off, newborn babies are not attractive at all. They are all red and wrinkly and kind of alien-like. And second off, after she is born, then it will definitely be worth it because I'll be taking the following nine months off and you can do all the work."
"Whatever you say, dear."
"I have you so well trained." Ellen leaned over the bar for a kiss. It was difficult since her belly was beginning to really start to swell, but still manageable. When they broke off the lip-lock, she sat up on one of the stools. "I finished inventory. We're well-stocked. The only thing I think we'll need in the coming weeks is maybe some sodas. We got all the colas you could want but we're a bit light on root beer and diet drinks."
"Diet drinks… ick." Bill pulled a face.
"Well, not everyone is a poster child for fitness, Mr. Muscles." Ellen teased.
"Are you coming on to me right after you rejected my advances?"
"Dream on."
Bill laughed as he looked around their bar. It was all set for the evening. He loved this place and their life here together. Their days were spent just hanging out together and taking care of the occasional customer that stopped by. At night they ran the bar together and listened to hunters' stories and traded their own. They also picked up extra cash selling information and hunting supplies. Bill would take a hunt every once in a while and before the pregnancy, Ellen would join him. Things were damned near perfect. Just then, the front door swung open.
Bill looked over and felt his eyes widen a bit when he saw the group of people walking inside.
"It's them." The hunter whispered to his wife. "That's the family I met on the werewolf hunt." Then he raised his voice in greeting. "Hi, guys! So glad you could all make it!"
The woman, Mary, smiled at him. "Glad to be here. We don't know many other hunters and couldn't pass up an opportunity like this."
That's when Bill noticed that the woman was holding a sleeping baby in her arms. He appeared to be somewhere around nine months old or so. The baby was wrapped up in blankets and had a tan and green hat on his head. Mary was rocking him gently and seemingly without even realizing that she was doing so. Her blonde hair was loose, unlike when she was hunting, which gave her a softer appearance. Or maybe that was just the baby in her arms. Bill wondered how Ellen would look in a few months when she'd be holding their own baby.
John was looking just as pissy as ever, dressed in an old pair of jeans and a worn, dark jacket. He clearly didn't want to be there, which begged the question of why they were there. Maybe his wife was the one really in charge? But no, she seemed more like a peacemaker than a lawmaker. The quiet fellow in the trench coat, Cas, certainly wasn't their leader. He was an odd one; Bill could tell just by the way the man carried himself. So, maybe they were here because of the kid. That drew his eyes to the final, and arguably strangest, member of the family. Dean.
The boy, who couldn't be any older than four or five years old, pulled off his hat revealing short, spiky blonde hair but that wasn't what grabbed Bill's attention. The kid was gazing around the bar with a look of a person that was coming back to a well-known, well-loved place. He seemed perfectly at home here. The boy shed his coat and tossed it on the coat rack with practiced eased. He was wearing a pair of jeans and a black t-shirt with a picture of shark teeth and text that warned that the wearer of the shirt might bite under an unbuttoned black and brown plaid flannel. He had an unusual charm hanging around his neck.
"Well, there's some hunters that I'm certain you'll regret meeting, but you're more than welcome here." Ellen responded to Mary.
Mary smiled as the other woman approached her. "Oh, your husband said you were pregnant. When are you due?"
"May 4th. But I'm certain she'll be early. I'm betting on the last week of April. Do you want me to hold him so you can take your coat off?"
Mary only hesitated a fraction of a moment before handing the baby to Ellen. "She? Bill said it was definitely a boy."
"'All first born Harvelles are boys'. Yes, I've heard it a million times before. Doesn't change the fact that it's a girl." Ellen smiled at the sleeping baby in her arms. Bill smiled at the sight.
"Well, Joseph is a pretty funny name for a girl." Bill commented.
"But Joanna is a perfect name for a girl." Ellen replied.
"You know," Mary interrupted them. "Woman's intuition is almost always right in these cases. I knew almost immediately that Dean was going to be a boy."
"But you did keep insisting that Sam was going to be a girl." John pointed out.
Mary seemed embarrassed. "Call it wishful thinking. I had a boy and everyone was saying that two would be a handful and that I needed a little girl. They had me confused."
"Likely story." John rolled his eyes and Mary playfully punched his arm.
Ellen handed the baby, Sam, back to Mary after the woman's coat was hung up. John and Cas kept their coats on.
"Well, when do the introductions start?" Ellen asked.
"Sorry, hon." Bill apologized. "This is John and his wife Mary. The boys are their sons Dean and Sam. And this is Mary's brother, Cas. I met all but Sam on that werewolf hunt I told you about. And guys, this is my lovely wife, Ellen."
"Do you have a last name?" Ellen asked.
"Winchester. Like the rifle." Dean responded, hopping up on a barstool.
"Dean." His father scolded.
"What? It's not like they could google us or nothing."
The blank stares his family gave him indicated that his comment made no more sense to them than it did to Bill. One thing was for certain, though. This kid had attitude to spare.
"Well, Winchester family, welcome to the Roadhouse." Ellen broke the awkward silence that had followed the boy's strange comment. "It doesn't look like much, but it really is a great place."
"How long you all been hunting?" Bill asked curiously.
"My whole life." Dean answered.
"That long, huh?" Bill sat next to him. He noticed that the boy kept staring at Ellen with a sad, distant look in his eyes. It was completely out of place on a child so young.
"Yep."
"I hunted when I was growing up." Mary cut in. "My family was into it. I doubt you've heard of them, though. They kept to themselves. But I got out of it when John and I married. But, as we said last time, things happened that drew us back in."
"Yeah, about that…"
John shook his head. "No details. It could put Dean in even more danger."
"It could also put you in danger." Dean added. He started spinning the barstool around in circles. Bill shook his head in amusement.
"Hey!" Ellen called out. "Careful! You'll fall and crack your head open!"
Dean shrugged. "Got a thick skull and nothin' to damage in there."
Mary groaned. "Dean…"
The boy put out a hand and grabbed onto the bar, bringing the stool to a stop. He favored his mom with a smile and then turned it on Ellen. But as he stared at Bill's wife, the smile turned sad. "I'm sorry."
"It's okay, sweetie. I just didn't want you getting hurt."
"Wasn't talking about that."
"What then?"
"Nothing. But I… I just wanted to say that I'm really sorry." And damn it all if there weren't tears running down the child's face. The boy had gone from goofing off and being a smart-mouth to crying over God-knows-what in two seconds flat. Bill found himself worrying about the little guy.
Mary walked over to her son and hugged him. She whispered something in his ear and the boy nodded his head. She shook her head in return and whispered something that sounded suspiciously like 'not your fault'. Dean pulled away from her and hopped off the stool.
"Doesn't matter 'cause I'm not gonna screw it all up again!" The boy swiped at his face and was obviously trying desperately to regain some semblance of control over his emotions. And, unlike most children that age, he accomplished just that in a matter of moments.
Bill decided to give the kid a break and draw the attention away from him. "So, anyone want a drink?"
"I'd love a beer." John responded.
"I'll take one as well." Mary requested.
"Nothing for me, thank you." Cas answered.
"Root beer, please." Dean threw him a grateful smile as he reclaimed his seat, obviously aware that the man had changed the subject for the child's benefit.
"So," John began. "Not many hunters here."
"Still a bit early." Bill informed him as he slid a cold bottle of imported beer down the bar. John let the first slide past him and Mary grabbed it. John snatched up the second. Bill pulled out an ice cold root beer soda in a glass bottle and slid it to Dean. He usually used cans for the small kids but figured that this boy would appreciate a drink that looked more like everyone else's. After all, any child that went out and hunted with adults should get to 'drink' with them as well. "The crowd should start trickling in any time now. Got our regulars that live in the area, and then those that drift."
"Anyone good?"
Bill laughed. "Well, no one that could bag a werewolf at the age of four or five, but most are pretty decent. Some are slightly off their rockers, though, so watch your backsides."
"And keep yourselves in line, too." Ellen warned. "We have a strict 'no shooting the other customers' policy."
"What if they really deserve it?" Dean asked.
"Well, I have been known to make exceptions." She replied with a wink.
The boy's answering grin was actually a bit disconcerting. He popped the top off the bottle using the bar top and took a swing of the soda. Bill got a feeling that this was not the first time that Dean had ever been in a bar. He was getting more and more curious as to the details about this kid and his family. There was more to the story than a demon attack.
"You know," Dean's voice broke though his thoughts. "You guys should add a bit of holy water to all of your non-bottled drinks. Maybe in the ice too so that if customers pour bottled drinks into a glass they'll get it too. Just a little precaution."
"Not a bad idea." Bill commented. "Never thought much about protection against demons before. Only ever had one possessed customer."
"Trust me. Demons can screw up everything. I can show you how to protect yourselves from them if you want."
"And what'll it cost me?" Bill asked. He was very used to the barter system.
"Nothing. But not knowing this stuff can cost you everything." Suddenly Dean didn't sound anywhere close to five years old. "You have a great place here. And a great family. You gotta keep them safe."
"Yeah," Bill agreed, glancing lovingly at his pregnant wife. "Yeah, I do."
Just then the door swung open again. Bill looked up as the entire Winchester family swiveled around to get a look at the new arrival. The young man that ran through the door was no stranger to Bill. He'd started stopping by about a year and a half ago and had an anger about him that quite frankly scared the hunter. Sure, the guy had suffered a personal tragedy (most hunters had) but he had allowed it to make him become slightly unhinged and he was consistently seeking revenge at any cost. Bill had discovered long ago that there were two types of hunters. Those who sought to save others and kill monsters and those who sought revenge. The first type were more noble and while they had their quirks and flaws, were trustworthy. The second type often ended up in a downward spiral that dragged down all who got to close to the hunter in question. And Gordon Walker, the young hunter who'd just run into the Roadhouse, was definitely in the second category.
But it wasn't just the young man that had captured Bill's attention. From, the corner of his eye, the hunter saw Dean's reaction to Gordon's entrance. The boy hadn't turned his stool completely and Bill could still see the left side of his face. Dean's eyes widened in surprise and then narrowed as his lips thinned into an angry snarl. His small hand curled into a fist and his whole body tensed as if ready to spring. Bill glanced at the boy's parents and uncle, but none of them reacted with anything other than curiosity. He had no time to wonder about what was going on in Dean's head, though, as Gordon chose that moment to speak up.
"You might wanna call off happy hour tonight, Billy. Vamps are after me in a big way, and if they follow me here, I doubt it's going to be a very happy night for anyone."
Author's Note Part Two: Cliffhangers are just so wonderful, aren't they? Wait... are those hellhounds gathering around my house... please call them off... Anyway, I hope you all enjoyed. Please leave a review to let me know what you thought. Thanks. And again, please also check out my holiday oneshots if you're interested.