Chapter 35: Comes In Small Packages
Bobby Singer headed for Xavier's office. Apparently there was a package waiting for him with the school secretary. He exchanged some pleasantries with her before taking his package. It was in his neighbor's handwriting, so it was probably just a bunch of bills and crap mail. Great.
Returning to the room he had to share with John, Bobby sat on the second bed and ripped open the large envelope.
"What's up?" John asked, his hair sticking out every which way as he lifted his head from his pillow.
"Since when do you sleep in so late?" Bobby demanded.
John sat up shaking his head. "Since I stopped sleeping at night. How'd you get mail here?" He clearly had not moved in a while, however. John was still dressed for bed, wearing only a t-shirt and his underwear.
Bobby stared at his old friend for a moment, both reminding himself this was the father of the boys he carried a big damn soft spot for and wondering over the not sleeping comment. Maybe John really was trying with Dean. To his credit, the man hadn't shot anyone at the Institute. Yet.
"I called up my neighbor who looks after the dog when I'm gone and asked him to send my mail. No need to get behind on my bills because Dean needs a little help," he replied.
John nodded, rubbing both hands over his face. He looked older today, weary. Bobby distracted himself from that line of thought by pouring his mail out on the bed. As he began sorting through the junk mail and bills, he ran across a thick envelope.
"I don't believe it," he muttered when he recognized the handwriting. He ripped open one end and shook out the contents. Pages of research on Westchester County, along with copies of local websites and blogs concerning the Xavier Institute, fell out. Along the top of one page in Sam's handwriting were the words 'You might want to check this out.'
"Hmmm?" John muttered.
Bobby waved him closer. "Better look at this, it kind of concerns you too."
John sighed as he stood, walking slowly the few feet to Bobby's bed. He took the page Bobby offered, the one with Sam's note. Bobby knew when John had read it, because his face twisted into a sour expression and his mouth creased in a deep frown.
"What else was in there?" John demanded, sounding awake. Bobby dumped the rest of Sam's research in John's outstretched hand.
"I guess I'd better..." John's voice trailed off as his gaze rested on Bobby. "No. We need to show this to Dean, and then discuss if we need to do anything about it. Come on, he's probably still eating breakfast."
John was out the door before Bobby could protest. Bobby stood to wait, wondering how long it would take for the stubborn mule to return. Seconds later the bedroom door opened and John stepped back inside. He held up his free hand. "Right after I put some clothes on."
"I'd appreciate it."
"Be honest," Logan insisted, setting down his breakfast tray. "What'd you think of the new program?"
"Pretty realistic," Dean had to admit. "Especially the way the ghosts dissipate. How'd you know?"
"Your father's been helpin' out," Logan replied. "When he's not drivin' a cement truck, he's going over details with The Professor."
Dean nodded, attacking his food with gusto. He was freaking starved! "Any poltergeists?" he asked through a full mouth.
Logan frowned and squinted his eyes. "Not sure. I'll haveta ask." He pointed a forkful of egg at Dean. "You're not helpin' with the programmin' so you c'n test it, by the way. Plus, you've got plenty ta do around here already."
Dean rolled his eyes and swallowed a mouthful. "Dude, tell me about it. There's not enough hours in the day. Libby can't find one book that has what I need, so I'll have to make copies from about five or six different ones and put 'em together for the class. What a pain in the ass."
He scooped up more food while Logan nodded over that. "Long as you're not lookin' at me ta help."
Dean chuckled and shook his head. Typical Logan. Out of the corner of his eye he saw two men rush into the cafeteria and he could feel waves of strong emotions from them. Normally, from this distance, Dean shouldn't feel a damn thing unless it was someone important, like Dad and Bobby. They spotted him and headed this way.
"Crap," he muttered, dropping his fork. "I can't eat one freaking meal without a crisis?"
"Eat," Logan encouraged. "Gettin' testy again."
Dean shot him a hard look. "Shut up."
Dad and Bobby stopped a couple of feet from the table. They exchanged a couple of looks before Dad shoved Bobby closer. Bobby cleared his throat and thrust out a handful of paper.
"We thought you should see this."
Both men were nervous and their emotions were strong but fluctuating so much Dean couldn't pin them down. Slowly he accepted the folded pages from Bobby. It looked like somebody had been doing background research on the Institute. Was it Dad or Bobby? Then Dean spied Sam's barely legible scrawl across one of the pages, a note to Bobby to check into this. He rolled his eyes and folded the pages back up.
"So?" Dean picked up his fork.
Dad and Bobby were both surprised and exchanged a wary glance.
"Well," Dad said, "we were thinking that Bobby could, ah, call and let him know that-"
"No," Dean interrupted, so forcefully he startled himself. "Sam was probably checking up on the Institute because he's getting a scholarship from here. If he was serious about having someone check into it, he'd call." He picked up the papers again and shuffled through them, looking for some of Sam's notes in the margins. He noticed a circle drawn around one of the symbols on the front door and the word 'amateur' with a question mark after it. "And if he does call, Bobby, you can tell him the amateur handling this one is me." Dean slapped Sam's research back on the table with a hard look at both men.
Bobby cleared his throat as he took back the folded papers. "Nobody called you an amateur, Dean."
He waved at Sam's research. "Sam did."
"You don't know what he meant by it, son," Dad said in a softer tone.
"Doesn't matter," Dean said dismissively. He picked up his fork. "If he's serious, Sam will call or write a real letter, not some scribble in the margin."
Dad and Bobby both nodded nervously before heading for the breakfast line.
"Why do they act like that?" Logan asked.
"Like what?" Dean asked, scooping up scrambled egg.
"Like they've never seen you mad before?" Logan turned to glance at the older members of Dean's family over his shoulder.
"Because I don't get mad," Dean retorted.
Logan turned back to give him a look of pure disbelief. "You sure do a good imitation of it."
Dean tapped his fork against the side of his plate as he thought about it. "I was mad," he realized, "but not at them." He let out a sigh. "Damn. Maybe Hank and I need to be working on anger issues instead of screening out emotions."
Logan shrugged. "Maybe they're related." One side of his mouth twisted up in a sly grin. "But it don't bother me. Didja see the look on your pop's face when you told them off? Priceless."
Funny how Logan could always break his bad mood, make him chuckle. Dean flung a chunk of egg at him. "That's because you're an asshole."
"Takes one ta know one, kid." Toast sailed at his head, which Dean easily ducked.
"All right, boys and girls," Hunter said in a strong voice. "You better have those notes I gave you memorized. As you walk on the bus, show me your protection charm. Anyone not wearing one is staying here."
Oh, crap! Scott felt around in his pocket for the small silver charm. He was sure he had picked it up this morning. He very nearly did not find it mixed in with the loose change. Scott pulled it out to show before following his group on to the bus.
"You should find a way to wear it," Hunter told him in a soft voice as he passed.
After taking a seat, Scott pulled out the charm again. His was attached to a silver clasp. With a glance, he noticed the female students had all chosen to wear theirs on chains around their necks, like a regular necklace. What could he attach his to? His watch caught his eye. Well, he should only need it off campus, right? And that was assuming any of this garbage was real. With a shrug, Scott fastened it on his watchband. There.
Hunter gave them another quick run-down on what to expect from people in the mall and how to tell if they thought you were lying. Scott hoped he wouldn't have to remember all of it since he was just a chaperon. Why was he here instead of Storm? Oh, that's right, because Professor Xavier told him to come. Hunter and Storm already had a 'nice' working dynamic. That was, if you called light flirting and a daily death threat worded in the nicest possible manner, a 'nice' working dynamic. This was Xavier's idea of team-building.
The bus parked halfway between the far edge of the parking lot and the door.
"Stay within sight of your chaperon at all times," Hunter's voice rang out as they exited the bus. "Only one student is to go inside a store at a time. Stick to your cover stories no matter what. I promise you, they will work. And people?" He paused outside of the large double glass doors of the mall. "Have fun, huh?"
Hunter held the door open on one side as they all filtered in.
"Have fun?" Scott whispered as he approached.
Hunter flashed a broad smile. "Dude, that's what this is all about. Fun." He winked, leaving Scott holding the door alone. Scott waited for the last of his group to walk in. He was about to allow the door to close, but an elderly woman using a walker limped slowly towards the entrance.
"Hey!" he called out to one of his kids. "Just a minute!"
Scott stood in the door, holding it open, until the woman limped in. When he turned to find his group, they were gone. Yeah, this was perfect. First school field trip to the mall and the headmaster lost his damn group. The newspapers would have a field day with that. Scott rushed ahead and nearly bypassed the food court. Two members of his group were bickering over whether to buy corn-dogs or pizza slices. With a breath of relief, he hurried to join them. The rest of his group were close by.
"Hey Mister Summers," Joe said by way of greeting, "what took you so long?"
"Oh, uh, I was holding the door open for this old lady," he began to explain.
"I'll bet," Bobby Drake put in with a grin, leaning over Joe's shoulder.
"Come on." Hunter's hand dragged Bobby away. He might have Joe, but at least Scott wouldn't have to chase Bobby Drake all over the mall.
Bobby held his corn-dogs nervously in one hand as he eyed the row of shops leading away from the food court.
"Go on." Professor Hunter gave him a shove in the back and Bobby could swear he felt more confident instantly. "Just window shop. Like a girl."
Bobby gave his teacher a nervous look and Professor Hunter shrugged at him. "Dude, you said you felt like all the store employees could tell what you were, that they looked at you funny. Now it'll be because you're chewing with your mouth open."
He received another shove before Bobby started moving down the row of stores. Looking through the windows, Bobby was so intent on keeping watch on the store employees he forgot to eat at first. At the first inquisitive look his way, he remembered the food clutched in his hands. Bobby shoved half of a corn dog all the way in his mouth. The store clerk who was old, at least thirty, closed her eyes and shook her head at him. Bobby grinned back chewing with his mouth partially open, not that he had a choice. She made a face and turned around.
It worked! She wasn't looking at him like a mutant freak. Professor Hunter was a freaking genius.
Bobby made a show of checking things out through the windows while he ate. When he was down to his last corn-dog he ate slower, not wanting his turn to be over quite yet. At the next to last store window Bobby spotted a teenage girl, probably eighteen, straightening up a table of shirts. He smiled and tried flirting with her. She grinned and winked back at him! Bobby stood rooted to the spot, exchanging smiles and looks until Professor Hunter dragged him away.
"But it was working," Bobby protested.
Professor Hunter cleared his throat loudly and gave a subtle nod in the direction of the door to the store. Bobby looked back to see the cute salesgirl leaning out watching them.
"Come on, Dad," he said a little louder, "I wasn't that late!"
"And I know you spent your allowance in that first store," Professor Hunter replied, sounding scarily like Bobby's father, "so don't tell me you were actually shopping. It's time to go."
Once they rounded the corner out of sight of the salesgirl, the rough hand on the back of his neck slipped around to grasp his shoulder warmly. "Nice job, Bobby. Let's see, I think that means all we have left is Kitty?"
Kitty's face flushed and she went totally transparent.
"Kitty!" Hunter hissed at her.
Instantly she became solid again. "Sorry."
Professor Hunter waved her closer. He whispered to her before sending her into one of the girly stores, the kind that sold purses and crap. Bobby leaned against the wall to wait. What was Kitty's problem again? It had to do with wanting to wear girl stuff, but that was about all Bobby could remember. Whatever. She came back out a few minutes later holding a plastic bag with her purchase and a huge smile, so it must have gone well.
For the next ten minutes Bobby was absolutely amazed an Institute outing had gone so well, without a single incident. Too bad it couldn't last until they made it back to school.
It was when the teachers were checking them all in at the bus that it happened. Bobby doubted he would ever be able to forget just how cool his teachers were that day.
A guy dressed as a cop walked up to the bus. Bobby was already inside, so he lowered a window to hear what was going on and shushed the others. The cop, a big guy, headed for Mister Summers. Professor Hunter cut him off.
"Can I help you, officer?" he asked. Bobby noticed his favorite teacher roll one shoulder and stretch his neck when he asked.
"I have a few questions," the cop said in a harsh voice. "Where is this bus going?"
Professor Hunter smiled, real big, as he talked. "Back to school. This is just the home ec class doing some comparison shopping. Why? Is there a problem?"
"One of those kids is a thief," the cop snapped. "I need to search them for missing merchandise."
Professor Hunter's smile dropped and both of his shoulders rolled back with a quick snap. "You must have them confused with someone else."
The cop pulled out a thin black notebook. "I don't think so. I have the descriptions of three kids here and I'm willing to bet they're all on this bus."
Logan walked up. "Problem?"
Professor Hunter nodded at the cop. "He says we have some shoplifters. You did bring that verification I asked you to, right?"
Logan frowned and nodded. "Now?"
"He needs to see it," Hunter replied with a shrug, reaching into his back pocket.
They turned to face the cop both holding silver flasks. Were they expecting to bribe the cop with a shot of whiskey?
The cop actually took a step back. "What's that?"
"Nothing. Just water," Professor Hunter said with the same smile as earlier.
In one smooth move, he had the cap off and was splashing water over the cop. Logan copied the action, his water hitting a split second later. The cop screamed, throwing his arms up to protect his face. The skin burned away wherever the water touched it, like acid. Bobby slammed the window up.
"Demon!" he shouted, realizing only holy water could do that. Bobby dropped to the floor with all the kids, his heart pounding against his ribcage. He heard a lot of yelling and shouting outside. There were loud thumps followed by the bus rocking and a huge blasting noise. Next was a rushing wind noise and black smoke billowed into the bus through an open window. Several of the girls screamed and the black smoke headed for one of them. It dove for Kitty first, but she went totally transparent and it flitted right through her. Then it headed for Bobby. Bobby clamped his mouth closed and put both hands over his nose and mouth. That was the only way he could think of black smoke getting inside you. It came right up to him and stopped, hovering in the air.
The bus shook as Professor Hunter jumped inside. "Oh, crap!" He ransacked his own pockets while the black smoke came up to one after another of the kids on the bus. "Where'd I put it?"
"Here." Logan pulled a piece of paper from his pocket and handed it over. Professor Hunter snagged it and started reading in some foreign language. The black smoke took off, hightailing it through the open window and leaving the bus shaking.
When the shaking stopped, Professor Hunter turned to look at Mister Summers. "Don't tell me. No more field trips, right?"
Mister Summers looked over all the kids. "Everyone still wearing their charms?"
Everybody said yes as they picked themselves off of the bus floor. Bobby felt a little weak in the knees and was real glad nobody noticed him sit down in his seat right away.
After checking over all the students, Mister Summers turned to the professor and shrugged. "No one's hurt. We didn't lose anybody. The charms obviously work. I'd call that a win." He paused for a moment. "But assuming we do this again, let's have a couple more adults along. Armed with holy water and whatever you were reading."
"Deal." Professor Hunter sank into a seat with a heavy sigh.
He glanced out the window as the bus drove away. The parking lot had a new huge pothole and the cop stumbled into one of the light poles. Mister Summers was calling emergency services to report a member of law enforcement potentially suffering from a stroke.
When he met Professor Hunter's gaze, his favorite teacher gave him a sympathetic look. "You're not the only one who needs a change of shorts." Bobby wanted to laugh, but it wasn't that funny. Not really.