Part 52 – A month later…
(September 17, 2010)

Liz took a deep breath and sighed it out before cracking her eyes open. It was just after dawn. What had woken her up? Feeling behind her, she found only cold sheets. After a quick shower and finding something to munch on, Liz focused on figuring out what had woken her up so frickin' early. Then she heard the grunts. Then a loud curse. Cautiously, she followed the noises outside and into the junkyard. Sam and Dean, sweating and beating the crap out of each other… playfully.

Sam landed on his back but rolled and sprang to his feet in time to catch Dean's fist and use it to shove him back. "Come on, old guy. Kick my ass."

"Bring it on. You're holding back."

"I'm afraid I'll break one of your brittle old bones."

"Who spent half of the last year in a cast?"

"Shut up."

She watched him spar with his brother. They kicked up the dust. She watched the goofing and grinning of the Winchester men turn into fierce masks of focus. The banter cooled and was replaced by curses and oofs. She sank down onto a car missing its trunk lid. They were getting pretty serious with their punches. She almost wanted to break it up but neither one really seemed to be breathing very hard.

Sweaty and dirty, Dean dropped into a chair and yanked a bottled of water from a nearby cooler. Sammy walked around to cool his muscles. "You're going to knot up."

"Am not." Dean bit out.

"Will, too. Stand up and stretch it out."

"I've been doing this a few years longer than you have. I don't need tips from Sasquatch."

"You boys been at this long?" Liz called over from her perch.

"Keeping in shape." Dean answered but didn't meet her eyes.

"I'm going… to go… walk it off." Sam grabbed a bottle from the cooler and disappeared out of earshot.

"So… what's going on?"

"Just… keeping sharp. No big." Dean shrugged and took a long chug off the bottle. "No visions?"

"Nothing big. Stupid little stuff. Broken glass warnings and ant infestations. It's a little weird but nothing a can of Raid or a broom can't handle."

"Good."

"You want to let me in on what's going on in your head?"

"Sam got a lead on something in Utah. Quick thing. I'll be back by Monday, probably."

"Oh…" She nodded stiffly. "Okay."

"It's fuckin' weird." He blurted out. "Checking in. I just wanted to take off."

"You know that blood pressure thing the doctor was talking about? It would have sky rocketed if you had just taken off. Just… keep me informed. The fewer surprises, the better." Liz cautioned as she eyed him warily. He was as locked up as ever.

"Sammy said as much. I don't know how he got so smart… not from me and Dad."

"Just tell me stuff, Dean."

"Goes both ways… If you… just…" He cursed under his breath. "Just make sure there's always someone around. If you have a vision by yourself… half the time you're falling over tables and chairs."

"I'll try."

--

Liz stared at her closet. She had packed away her tight clothes, which had given Dean more room but with the bag he'd just packed, most of his things were gone. Pulling his favorite shirt out, she slipped into it before he could take it with him. She could hear the slide of the whetting stone against his blades as he sharpened them. Sam walked in and dropped a bag on the floor. Then she could hear the punch of a reloading press and the soft sound of rock salt hitting the floor. "Don't make too big a mess."

"I'll clean it up before we go." Sam called back without looking up. "How did we get so low on supplies?"

"It's been a while." Dean muttered, glowering at his blade as he swiped it over the stone again and again. "We came here straight from a hunt and we never bothered to restock."

"I'll check the first aid kit." Liz turned to face them, they were both engrossed in their tasks. That's when she noticed the books that Sam had piled onto the table when he had entered. He was loading and pressing shells between reading sentences and turning pages. "What's all that?"

"Research." Sam answered without stopping either activity.

"What are you hunting?" She refilled their kit from the one in the bathroom; she could always refill that one at her convenience after they were gone.

"A jackalope." This time it was Dean who answered. "It's confusing the tourists and they're getting lost… so, we're going to hunt it down."

"Very funny." She glared at him.

"What?"

"I know what a jackalope is." Sam remained silent. He stared at them, wondering what Dean had told her about what they were doing. Liz grabbed the book off the table. He didn't stop her though Dean glared at him something fierce. "This is a history book."

"Yeah." Dean slapped his thigh with the flat side of his blade before sliding it into the case. He began packing the filled shells into a case.

"J.W. Hardin?"

"So mean, he killed a man for snoring." Dean nodded.

"This isn't Utah, Dean. This is in El Paso." She rounded the table to tower over his seated form.

"Maybe I lied."

"Dammit, Dean… If something had happened or I needed to get to you…"

"Look… The saloon where he was shot… It got flooded or something. Whatever the structure built over the original… it got damaged and Hardin woke up. It's a hotel and there's been a rash of unsolved murders… and the unlucky sons of bitches snore." Dean told her with a straight face. "We're going."

"No… you can't. You snore and you don't even know where he's buried."

"I don't snore."

"Yes, you do… both of you snore. You're not hunting down a ghost who kills people who snore."

"Somebody's got to and we're the only ones with a heads up. It shouldn't be that hard to find his grave… The dude is famous."

"We just had a talk about…. Talking. I could kill you." Liz slapped him upside the head and then rushed outside to get some air.

Sam shook his head at his clueless brother. "You're in the doghouse."

"Shut up." Dean muttered.

"You should have just told her the truth."

"Look… I said Utah cause… there's hardly anything I can think of there… I tell her El Paso and she's doing research on her own and there's a hell of a lot more than J.W. Hardin to hunt there, I'm sure…" Dean took a deep breath. "I didn't want her to worry. The doctor said her blood pressure… fuck!" He stood and kicked the chair.

"Next time, just tell her the truth."

"Maybe."

"We're leaving at nightfall… can't let someone else get killed."

"I know…" He kicked the chair again and slipped out the door to find his wife. He found her staring off over the junkyard with her arms crossed over her belly. "Sorry."

"I don't need you treating me like glass, Dean. I'm not going to break if you have to go on a hunt. I know they're all dangerous and each one could put me out of a husband and a father for my child. I know that… it's not going to stop me from worrying."

"Well, we're going… I'll make sure all the lines are fresh before I go."

"Dean…"

"Yeah?"

"Check in… and I mean it."

The Next Day…
(September 18, 2010)

Kyle just shook his head at the duo. He knew his girlfriend was driving Liz crazy but glad that Liz let her do it. Betty Lou had the entire table covered with baby magazines. He watched her trace her fingers over the baby clothes. "Have you bought anything yet?"

"Not really." Liz shook her head at his question. "I guess we're still getting in the groove of being together."

"How's that working out?"

"Fine… when he's not getting into fights."

"Billy started it."

"I know." She shook her head and flipped a page in the catalog. "It's the halfway point, you know… I should start getting some things."

"We need to throw you a baby shower." Betty Lou announced.

"I don't really know that many people and I'm not going to make strangers buy me things." Liz pushed the catalog away. "I mean… all I really need is a crib and blankets and clothes."

"And diapers and a diaper pail and bottles and nipples and a breast pump if you want to keep up breast milk feedings after you wean him…" She trailed off as she realized they were staring at her. "What?" They just blinked at her. "I have cousins… I've been to a zillion baby showers. You wouldn't believe all the supplies you need in order to just house a baby."

--

Dean scoped out the area for weak points they could enter to get into the graveyard come night fall. Sam had done most of the leg work on the phone on Friday using the premise of a graduate paper. The drive was the killer part. "What do you think?"

"Judging by the graffiti on that overpass… I'd say that security is lax." Sam tilted his head to read the scrawl better. "What is that… 'Benjamin'?"

"Pendejo." Dean corrected. "You need glasses or something?"

"Something written underneath it…"

"Another obscenity." Dean waved off his brother and sipped his coffee. "It's friggin' September… why is it so friggin' hot?"

"Cause we're in the desert oasis of…" Sam's eyes turned toward the river. Artificially green in some areas, the brown shell of smog over the city was disturbing. "Oasis might be stretching it."

"That's so gross." His eyes followed the same reddish-brown skyline. "And we're breathing that shit in."

"All our minerals in one breath." Sam tore his eyes off the sky and turned to face the city, hustling and bustling… but casually so. "Mountains are nice."

"I hear a lot of those houses are haunted." Dean gestured to the West where the houses were built big and bright.

"You told her Monday."

"Shut up."

"I'm just saying and you were right… we could spend an eternity finding spirits to burn here… on just this side of the border. Who knows what's going on over there?" Sam gestured towards the river and the fences on both sides. "I hear there's a serial killer. Decades of unsolved murders, mostly young women who work in the factories. You know they're going to get pissed eventually and no one's caught the guy yet."

"How do you know the killer is still alive?" Dean countered. "Could be the guy's ghost offing all those chicks."

"We're here for John Wesley Hardin… that's it. We're doing the burn tonight and then we're going home."

"Is that what it is? Home?" The words came out haltingly. His expression unsure.

Sam took a breath. "Are you doing okay?"

"Yeah… just a lot of changes… and I don't really know that I'm up for them. We still got our demon to hunt and I'm not sure sitting still is going to do us any good."

"You ask her if she'd come out with us?"

"Liz has already made it pretty clear that if I want to go… driving around hunting… that…"

"She won't come." He finished for his brother.

"Yeah… and John will stay with her… and I don't think I can be away from him once he's born… you know? I already have this idea in my head that I'm going to be a good father and I can't if I'm not there with him." He took a deep breath, then looked to his little brother. "I know that I'm going to kill that demon…. But how I'm going to do it and keep them safe?"

"We'll find a way. I'll help." Sam scoffed at himself. "Dude… what's got you so worried?"

"Nothing really. Liz's got these factors that don't look good but there's nothing to do but wait and hope she doesn't develop any other ones." Dean shook his head. "And I'm not helping. I think I am but I'm just making it worse. I don't know… I needed to get out and kill something… so, let's do that."

"Okay."

--

Marty laughed and gestured to Bobby. "You hear this? Hardin's spirit's all woke up and angry… and killing folks that snore."

"I thought he only killed one guy for that." Bobby scratched his head. "I'll be damned… wasn't his anniversary last month?"

"Or thereabouts… been what? Almost two hundred years."

"Not quite… about 25 years off." He snorted. "That where them boys went?" Liz nodded, already bored with it. "Lucky bastards…"

"To snuff a famous spirit?" Liz leaned on the bar.

"Well, yeah. J.W. Hardin, so mean he shot a man for snoring."

"Yeah, I heard that already." She rolled her eyes. "I think even my dad knows who that is."

Marty looked up when the door opened, then quickly smoothed his hair down. Liz bit her lip against a smile when she saw Dr. Meyer enter the bar. Bobby cleared his throat and nudged her lightly as Marty rushed over to casually greet her and invite her to a booth with a bottle of whiskey from the back shelf.

"When he is gonna be a man and admit that he loves her?" Liz shook her head at the sight.

"When hell freezes over." Bobby answered. "That's how all hunters are… or should be. Play cards close to their chests. If you let yourself admit to something like that, it's real in your head and no matter how hard you try to suppress it… a demon can and will pull it out and use it against you."

"Really."

"Common knowledge. Dean and Sam say that Shapeshifters are a bit on the omniscient side, too."

"They just reach in and grab?"

"The more you try to hide it, the easier the grab."

She pinned him with a look. "How dangerous is going after a dead gunslinger?"

"Could be a simple salt and burn or… really hard if the gunslinger catches wind before they finish the job." Bobby shook his head. "If people thought he was a mean son of a bitch while he was alive… two hundred years of death aren't going to improve on that disposition."

"Is there anything you don't know about?"

"I can't knit."

The next day…
(September 19, 2010)

Sam sipped his coffee as Dean came to. "Liz was right… you do snore."

"Do not."

"If that dude snored like you… no wonder Hardin put a bullet in him."

"Shut up." Dean felt around for his phone. He hit the speed dial and waited for the pick up. "Hey… yeah, just woke up… yeah, I know. We'll be on the road in about an hour… I know… Tell him I'll be in on Tuesday… Liz… Liz, I'm tired and I'm gonna make Sam drive on like four hours of sleep… it is not… we made it in 13… we're just getting a late start is all."

Sam snorted and sipped his coffee. "You're so whipped."

"I'll whip your ass. Shut up." Dean barked at him and returned his half-conscious attention back to the phone. "So yeah… We could probably be back in the middle of the night but… just a little… it's not a big deal… so I sprained my wrist, it'll heal."

Shaking his head, he set his coffee down and settled in to watch his brother talk to his wife on the phone. He could keep saying it… didn't make it any less weird.

"Look, go do something. I'm on the phone." The older Winchester had had enough teasing. His brother only laughed. "Gotten laid, lately, Sammy? Cause I have."

"Jerk."

"Bitch." Dean cleared his throat and sat up with the phone. "So… I'm gonna kick his ass and we'll be on the road." Lowering his voice, he ducked his head into the phone a bit. "How are you feeling? … Yeah, okay, I'll let up." He cleared his throat. "Yeah, me too."

Sam's eyebrows shot up as his brother closed his phone and sat up to sip the coffee by the bedside. "Are you looking to never get laid again?"

"What?"

"Never mind." He shook his head at his brother.

"You know… it's rude to listen in on someone else's phone conversations."

"It's rude not… never mind." Sam rose to grab his things. "You drive first leg."

Monday evening…
(September 19, 2010)

Liz walked in after her shift and shook her head. They had not been home when she went in to work but there they were. Sam's long limbs were sprawled all over the extra bed. She tossed a blanket over him before slipping out of her shoes. Dean had taken over her body pillow. One of his eyes opened to watch her before slipping closed again. "Tired?" He only nodded. "But you got him?" A nod and a smile. "Does that mean you're a bigger bad ass than the infamous J.W. Hardin?" A broad smile. "Okay. You're sleepy. I'm going to make my dinner. If you're hungry, you make it to the table."

Dean got up and made it to the table while she was still putting together something that smelled good. "There was a freaky ass fence around his grave. Not a big deal but digging him up without destroying it was a trick."

"Is that how you sprained your wrist?"

"Yeah… Had to dodge his bullets. Ghost bullets still kill. Then once we had done the deed, we had to put everything back before someone showed up. The graveyard was smack in the middle of town and we're pretty lucky that no one called the cops on our smoke." Dean took the plate when she handed it to him but only ate about half of it. He was still asleep, really. He glanced back at Sam, asleep on the extra bed. He had always felt bad that Sam couldn't really stay there with him but… the cottage was too small for three adults and when the baby came it was going to be tight enough. Good thing that Sam was a good housekeeper so Bobby let him stick around while he was working at the library.

"You have any proof that you did it?" Liz asked while helping herself to seconds.

"I carved my initials on his marker." Dean grinned. "Any other hunter comes around trying to pin Hardin for something else will know that I was there."

"Sam doesn't get credit for anything?"

"Sam's not in it for the acclaim. I'll take it all." He pushed his plate away with his good hand and laid the hurt one next to it to examine the swelling. "Mind helping me wrap this?"

"Yeah, I'll do it. Why didn't Sam do it?"

"He was punishing me." Dean shrugged. "And I kind of didn't let him do it."

"Of course you didn't. You were being macho and bragging on how well you fought off Hardin while Sam…"

"Was keeping look out and getting knocked down every five minutes."

"Right."


TBC