Who the Hell Are You?
Rating: T
AN: Big thanks yous to greentoothbrush, kazza03, SevenYearsLong, Lov3good, Alazensupernuke, tiaracove, angeleyenc, ColtFan165, ks90, BlueEyedPisces, K, Nelle07, ElizabethJohns, skm228, ThreeMoons, Penelope Halliwell, and Tiffily for all the reviews!
**READ ME** Hello, my faithful readers! I'm getting a lot of questions about how many chapters are left and such, so I realized I needed to clear a few things up. Here's the deal about this fic: my goal is to eventually rewrite each season. It's a big time goal, but I'm doing my best to stick to it. Anyway, I debated long and hard whether it would be easier to smash all the seasons into one story (which, at this rate, would probably end up being three hundred some chapters long, if not more) or to break the story into volumes that are more or less based on the season format. I decided on volumes, because honestly? One three hundred chapter story felt sort of ridiculous. Volumes seemed more practical. Who the Hell Are You? will end with a rewrite of 2x01, because while I don't mind leaving the story somewhat open-ended, I hated the idea of ending on a big cliff-hanger. This means you can expect roughly six to eight more chapters before the completion of volume one – and I hope with my entire heart that I can pull this off before the premiere. Like I said, don't be surprised if it takes a little bit longer, but I'm trying. Once this fic wraps up, I will post a second installment which will incorporate season 2, and so on. Sound good, everybody? Leave me your thoughts! And enjoy the update! ;)
Chapter 56: Dead Man's Blood
Lynn tore through the brush outside the vampires' barn, panting heavily as she struggled to keep up with Sam's long-legged strides. His hand was still firmly attached to her wrist and he was pulling her determinedly through the trees, trying to reach where they'd parked their getaway cars.
They stumbled to a stop beside the Impala, and Lynn slumped over, catching her breath. Sam turned in a circle, his eyes scanning the trees around them, looking frantic. "Where are they?" he exclaimed, panic in his voice.
Lynn looked around them too, feeling her throat close up. She took a deep, shaky breath and slowly exhaled, shaking her head. "I don't see them."
"Dad!" Sam bellowed. "Dean!"
"Jayne!" Lynn called.
Nothing. No one. Silence. And then, quite suddenly, Lynn heard a twig crack, and John appeared at the back bumper of his truck, running out of the woods. Sam breathed a sigh of relief, but Lynn didn't share in it. She still couldn't see Dean or Jayne.
"Don't worry; they won't follow," John announced, coming to a stop and catching his breath. "They'll wait until tonight. Once a vampire catches your scent, it's for life."
Lynn snorted. "And he says don't worry."
"Where are Dean and Jayne?" Sam demanded. Lynn turned expectant eyes on John, but his brow furrowed in concern.
"They didn't come back with you?"
Sam shook his head. Lynn swallowed down a sudden wave of nausea. "Oh, god," she whispered. "We have to go back."
John didn't say anything, but Sam nodded in agreement, straightening his shoulders and turning in the direction of the barn.
"Don't bother; we're right behind you," Dean's voice sounded from the trees, stopping everyone in their tracks.
Lynn turned at the sound of his voice in relief, only to have her heart plummet into her stomach moments later. Dean was striding out of the trees, looking mostly unharmed, but the sight of her sister made her eyes start stinging. Jayne was unconscious, her head lolling on Dean's shoulder as he carried her bridal style through the trees. He'd managed to wrap her in his jacket and was clutching her high on his chest, struggling to carry her while holding a handkerchief to her neck. The once white cloth was now saturated with bright red blood. Lynn gasped, shaking her head furiously. "Oh my god," she breathed. "Jaynie?"
"She'll make it," Dean assured her breathlessly, but she didn't believe him for a moment – mostly because he didn't look like he believed himself. "Sam, open the door."
Sam heeded his request, pulling open the back door on the Impala, and Lynn noted he was staring at Jayne too, looking shocked. Dean brushed past his brother, leaning into the car and lowering Jayne to the seat. "What happened?" Lynn demanded.
"What do you think happened?" Dean retorted. His abrasive, abrupt response stung, but Dean didn't seem to notice the effect his words had on her. He was too preoccupied with her sister. As Lynn watched, Dean dug the car keys from his pocket and tossed them at Sam. "You're driving."
"How bad is she?" John asked, and Lynn nearly slapped him. It was the tone of his voice that sent her blood boiling – the words were right, but the sound was wrong. He lacked concern, he lacked sympathy, he just plain lacked.
"Bad," Dean snapped, and Lynn wondered if he was pissed at his dad too.
"Hospital bad?"
Dean shook his head. "I don't think so."
"Good. Meet back at the motel."
John climbed into his truck and slammed the door. Lynn gawked after him, blinking furiously, too shocked to be fully enraged. How dare he? She heard the engine of John's truck turn over, and shook her head, her fists clenching at her sides. So many things were rushing through her head… anger, fear, guilt…
She felt Dean forcing something into her hand. "You take the truck," he ordered.
"What?" She turned to him in shock, holding the keys loosely in her hand. "No! I can't just leave her! I'm not driving off in the truck without… she's my sister!"
"Yeah, and if you leave her truck in the middle of the woods, she'll kill you," Dean returned. "Don't worry; I'll take care of her."
She stared at the Impala. Sam was already in the driver's seat, and Dean was headed back for the car. When the back door slammed shut and the engine turned over, Lynn lost it.
Tears rolled down her cheeks as she furiously stomped back to the truck, her mind racing and her vision red. She slammed the cab door behind her, adjusted the seat with a fierce jerk, and then started the engine up, wiping her eyes. Lynn glared through the windshield at the Impala's back bumper, following the car out of the woods and back towards the road.
"Son of a bitch," she spat, shaking her head and sniffling. How could they do that? Take her sister and cast Lynn out in the woods, expecting her to take the truck and be fine with leaving her sister's fate to somebody else? Her hands were shaking on the wheel, rage and terror filling her up, confusing her actions and thoughts. She could fall apart right then, behind the wheel of that truck, if she let herself.
But she didn't let herself. Falling apart was not the way Lynn did things. She took a deep breath, trying to force the tears back and be strong. They had to get back to the motel and take care of Jayne. She had to pull it together for her sister.
A choked sob escaped her throat, and Lynn blinked back fresh tears. She wished they had never come out to Colorado, never took on this hunt… never teamed up with John Winchester.
In that moment, all she wanted to do was fix her sister, and then leave all three of the Winchesters behind.
It was a bumpy ride back to the motel, but Dean did his best to ignore the bumps and jolts and rattles, sitting in the back of the Impala and holding Jayne against his chest. He didn't have the first aid kit, and it was a bad road to drive while trying to stitch anyone up, so he tucked her into his lap and squeezed his handkerchief against her neck, trying to stem the blood flow. Her breathing was shallow and her head leaned limply against his shoulder. Dean swallowed, regretting not taking her to the hospital. He should tell Sam to change routes and take off for the nearest one, so they could have a doctor stitch her back up. Dean rearranged his jacket around her and held her closer to his chest, keeping her warm because the last thing they needed was her going into shock. Then he took a deep breath, squeezing his eyes shut and resting his nose against her hair.
She was going to be fine, he kept telling himself. She was Jayne freaking Gibson, and nothing could really hurt her. She'd be fine.
Dean knocked his head back against the seat, hating himself.
Not long later, Sam steered the Impala into the motel parking lot, parking right in front of their room. His father's truck was already there and John was waiting on them. Lynn pulled into the spot beside their car. Dean waited until Sam had opened the back door and then clambered out of the vehicle, slinging Jayne across his chest and carrying her towards the motel.
He wasn't really sure what was going on with the other people in the lot. The only one he paid attention to was Sam, watching impatiently as his brother dug out the room keys and unlocked the door.
The door swung open and Dean marched in first, heading straight for the nearest bed. He laid her down on the mattress and Lynn appeared on the other side, first aid stuff in hand. Dean went into the bathroom and dampened a few towels, and then came back out and sat next to Jayne, watching as Lynn went about mopping up the blood and stitching her neck shut. Lynn's eyes were red and puffy, and her face was streaked with mascara, and Dean started to feel bad about shoving her towards the truck without a backward glance.
When she was done patching up her sister, Dean handed her one of the unused wet towels. She frowned at him, and Dean tapped his face.
With a small smile, Lynn disappeared into the bathroom to clean up. Dean swallowed, and looked back down at Jayne. Vaguely he could hear Sam and his father talking about the vampires and what their next move should be. Dean didn't give a shit. He was freaking out a little, his fingers twitching and his leg jerking around at the side of the bed.
"What's the significance of dead man's blood?" he heard Sam ask.
"It's like poison to a vampire," John replied. "Makes 'em sick, knocks 'em out. One of us has to find a funeral home and grab some."
He could feel his father's eyes on his back, and he tightened his fists, his shoulders tensing. Determinedly he kept his eyes on Jayne's face.
"I'll do it," Sam said hastily, and Dean's shoulders relaxed.
They talked a few minutes more, but Dean stopped paying attention. Lynn came out of the bathroom and leaned on the wall, her eyes darting from the bed to Sam and John. Eventually, Sam left the room, and Dean found himself alone with Lynn and his father.
Dean honestly didn't know what to do or what to say to either of them. Feeling awkward, he got up from the bed and paced a little, preoccupying himself with rolling up his shirt sleeves. Lynn watched him from her place by the bathroom, but his father didn't look at him. John sat down at the small table by the door and cracked out both his and Daniel Elkins' journals. He hunched over the papers scattered on the table, tapping his pen lightly against the notebook. Dean got tired of pacing and grabbed a chair from the table, carrying it over to Jayne's bed and plopping it down nearby. Then he sat down, leaned his elbow on the nightstand, and tried really hard not to stare.
It was creepy, watching other people sleep, but he couldn't help the way his eyes kept straying back to her. Her breathing had evened out, but she was still lying eerily still, and her skin was noticeably pale against the dark brown leather of his jacket. He wasn't used to seeing her this way. It made his chest tighten uncomfortably, and he felt for a moment like he couldn't breathe.
Swallowing hard, he tore his eyes away from her and looked at Lynn instead. She was still leaning on the wall, her arms folded over her chest, and staring at Jayne. Her dark eyes were burning, and Dean nearly flinched. She looked up at him and met his eyes and Dean felt a sudden sense of blame. She was angry, and she blamed them – Dean, his father, maybe even Sam.
He looked away and stared at the carpet. She could blame him all she wanted, because if he was being totally honest, he blamed himself too. The rational part of him said he was being an idiot; that there was nothing he could have done to stop this from happening – but he felt like he was missing a piece of the puzzle, like there was something he could have done and the fact that he couldn't figure it out made him a useless dick.
"What's the deal with that damn gun?" Lynn asked suddenly, her voice cracking through the silence.
Dean looked back up at her in surprise, but she wasn't looking at him. Her hard eyes were directed at his father. John glanced in her direction, and then returned to his papers. "We can discuss that later."
"We?" Lynn pushed, taking a step in John's direction. "We as in all of us? All five of us? Or just you and your boys?"
Dean watched his father's hand tense around the pen. "Look… Lynn. Your father…"
"My father spent sixteen years of his life searching for the demon that killed my stepmother," Lynn cut him off. "And then he died. So my sister took over the hunt, trying to find the thing that killed her mother. The same thing that killed your wife."
John shook his head slowly. Lynn wasn't finished though. "The only reason you would be so obsessed with this revolver is if it had something to do with that demon," Lynn said. "So you risked my sister's life to get it back. I hope you're fucking happy."
Dean cleared his throat awkwardly and got to his feet. "Lynn," he said quietly.
"He did!" Lynn snapped. "You know that's exactly what he did! And the worst part is he won't even tell us why the damn thing is so important! He wasn't ever planning on telling us, were you John?"
Dean turned to stare at his father, who sighed harshly and ran a hand through his hair. John got to his feet, dropping his pen on the desk. "What was the plan?" Lynn demanded. "Grab the gun and disappear again? Leave everyone wondering where the hell you went this time? Were you just going to cut me and my sister out, or did you not even plan on telling your kids?"
"You've got a lot of nerve," John said, and Dean was struck by the low, hard tone of his voice. "I don't know what's going on between you and my boys, but don't think a few weeks of traveling around with them makes you family."
Lynn scoffed, but John pressed on. "What goes on between me and them is family business. That gun is family business."
"You bastard!" Lynn seethed, but Dean swooped in. He'd finally had enough.
"Nine months," he spoke up. John stared at him, and so did Lynn. "You bailed on me nine months ago, Dad. Sam and I met Lynn and Jayne nine months ago. We've been hunting together on and off for nine months, and we've been traveling together for almost two. It hasn't been a few weeks, it's been nine months. Maybe you don't think they're family, but they've been around for Sam and me a whole hell of a lot more than you have lately."
"Excuse me?" his father growled.
"You heard me," Dean snapped. "What's the deal with the gun, Dad?"
John gawked at him in silence, much to Dean's surprise. He'd expected to get his ass handed to him – if it had been Sam, that's exactly what his father would have done. But it wasn't Sam yelling at him, it was Dean – and Dean guessed his father just wasn't expecting that. He didn't know what to do.
"Give it up, Dean," Lynn spat. Her eyes were wet and shiny now. "He's not going to say a word. He just doesn't care."
She snatched her purse and the truck keys off the nightstand. "I'm going to get Jayne some food and stuff for when she wakes up," she announced, sniffling. Dean's hand twitched, as though it wanted to lay itself comfortingly on her shoulder. He fought the impulse. "Also, I just really need a fucking cigarette."
With that, she stomped out of the motel room and slammed the door shut behind her. Dean stared at the door, listening to the truck's engine turn over in the parking lot. Tires squealed as Lynn left the lot, and Dean shook his head, knowing that the more upset she got, the worse her driving would be. Lynn being on the road right now was a terrible idea.
It was too late to stop her though, and Dean turned to look at his father instead. John was still standing on the other side of the room, and Dean found it difficult to decipher his expression. "Well?" he asked after awhile. "Is she right? Do you not care? Are you not going to tell me anything?"
John sighed harshly. "Son…"
"I can't believe you!" Dean snapped, shaking his head. "My best friend is half dead right now, and all you care about is your goddamn crusade, and keeping us out of it! Well, that's not going to fly, Dad. Not anymore."
They stared at each other for a long time. John's look was dark, but Dean didn't back down. After several moments, John lowered his eyes.
"I'm only going to say it once," he said. "You'll have to wait for your brother to get back."
Then he gathered up his papers and marched out the motel room door.
For a long time, Dean stood in the motel room, staring at the door, not sure what had just happened or what to do with it all. Then, slowly, he sat back down in his chair by Jayne's bed, his shoulders slumping in exhaustion as he dragged his hand down his face.
"You really need to wake up," he told her.
Of course, she didn't. Sighing, Dean leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms. He felt like an idiot, but he wasn't going to move from that chair until she finally opened her eyes.
It was mid-afternoon by now, and the sky overhead was gray and gloomy. Sam pulled Dean's car into the motel parking lot, the log-cabin style building looking dreary against the overcast backdrop, and darted his hand out to the right so the brown paper bag in the passenger seat wouldn't go tumbling onto the floor. In that bag was a mason jar full of dead man's blood from the local funeral home.
He parked the Impala by the room he was sharing with the other four hunters. Jayne's truck was missing from the lot, which he took to mean that Lynn had left for some reason. Heaving a sigh, he climbed out of the car, paper bag in hand, and slammed the door shut.
His father was sitting on a bench outside of the motel, a few doors down from their room. Sam frowned, stopping in his tracks. John was bent over a journal, a pen in his hand.
"Dad?" he asked, coming towards him. "What are you doing out here?"
"Escaping the Inquisition," John returned dryly, eyes still on the journal. Sam frowned again, coming to a stop in front of him.
"What does that mean?" Sam asked. John looked up at him, and Sam saw mild amusement in his father's eyes. "Did something happen?"
"Your brother's a little upset with me," John said. He looked back at the journal. "So is Russ's girl. The awake one."
"Lynn," Sam said in annoyance. John smirked. "Where did she go?"
"Food for her sister," John replied. "And cigarettes."
"She's smoking again?" John nodded, and Sam rolled his eyes. "Is Jayne…?"
"Still out as far as I know."
Silence. Sam stared at his father. "You got the blood," John observed.
He nodded, holding up the bag. "Yeah."
John eyed the bag, and Sam stood there awkwardly, his gaze darting towards the motel room door. Sam made a small step in the direction of the motel room. He was still annoyed at his father and he wasn't really in the mood to stand out here with him.
"Sammy," his father said suddenly.
Sam turned back to him, frowning in surprise. "What?"
"I don't think I ever told you this," John said, smirking a little. "But… the day you were born, do you know what I did?"
This had to be, hands down, the weirdest moment he'd ever had with his father. "No," Sam replied, still frowning.
"I put a hundred bucks into a savings account for you. I did the same thing for your brother." John took a breath and looked down at his lap. Sam watched him carefully as he played with his pen, and then he looked back up at him, explaining, "It was a college fund. Every month I'd put in another hundred dollars. Until…"
He trailed off, dropping his eyes again. Sam couldn't stop staring at his father. It was like the man in front of him was an entirely different person. "Anyway. The point is, Sam, this is never the life that I wanted for you."
Sam took a moment to absorb that, studying the cracked pavement under his feet. He tilted his chin up, looking his father in the eye. "Then why did you get so mad when I left?"
John wouldn't look at him. His eyes were on the bumper of his truck but he looked distant, as though he wasn't seeing it; he was seeing someplace many miles away. "You got to understand something," he said. "After your mother passed, all I saw was evil, everywhere. And all I cared about was keeping you boys alive. I wanted you prepared. Ready. Just… somewhere along the line I, uh… I stopped being your father and I became your drill sergeant."
He paused. Sam stared at him expectantly. "So when you said that you wanted to go away to school," John went on. "All I could think about – my only thought was that you were going to be alone. Vulnerable. Sammy, I just – it never occurred to me what you wanted. I just couldn't accept the fact that you and me – we're just different."
Sam's eyes were stinging. He laughed out loud, trying not to let the tears overcome him. "What?" John asked, a small smile spreading on his face.
He shook his head, taking a seat on the bench beside his father. "We're not different," he replied. "Not anymore. With what happened to Mom and Jess…" He shook his head again, and another mirthless laugh escaped his lips. "Well, we probably have more in common than just about anyone."
John stared at him. Sam glanced his way and then looked back down at the ground. "I guess you're right, son," John murmured.
There was a moment of quiet as Sam stared at the ground and John stared at him. "Hey, Dad," Sam said, looking back up at him. "Whatever happened to that college fund?"
"I spent it on ammo," John replied, straight-faced.
Sam laughed out loud again. John started laughing too. For a brief moment, Sam felt like he wasn't at odds with his father – like they'd accomplished some sort of bond. It couldn't put to rest years of arguing and animosity, but it was a start.
At that moment, tires squealed in the parking lot. Sam looked up and saw Lynn wheel Jayne's truck roughly into a parking space. There was a loud squeak as she braked and shifted into park.
John's smile faded and he leveled hard eyes at the truck. "I'm going to go talk to your brother," he said. "Now that we're all here, I think it's time we talked about that gun."
Sam stared at him in surprise, hardly believing that his father was starting to come around to Sam's preferred way of doing things. John got to his feet and headed for the motel room. He didn't follow his father, though. Lynn was climbing down from the truck cab now, and by the look on her face, he decided she could use a little pep talk.
He approached her softly, his eyes taking in the smudged mascara and bright red eyes and the tear tracks that were streaking her face. Both Lynn and the truck reeked like cigarette smoke and as he drew nearer, he watched her drop a cigarette butt on the asphalt and stub it out with her boot.
"Hey," he said, stopping beside her. "You all right?"
"Do I look all right?" she snapped, jerking her hand in his direction. A plastic bag jiggled from her fist.
Sam dug a tissue out of his pocket and offered it to her. She stared at it, the angry look on her face fading, and slowly took the tissue from his hand. "Thanks," she whispered, sounding slightly sheepish as she dabbed at her face. "Sorry I snapped."
He nodded. "I'm sure she'll be fine," he told her, shoving his hands in his pockets. "I mean… your sister doesn't really seem to go down easy. She'll be awake and yelling at everyone in no time."
Lynn sighed, sagging against the truck and tilting her head back, staring at the cloudy gray sky. "I know. I mean, I think I know. God, I hate this."
Silence followed her statement. Sam stared at her, wishing he could understand what was in him that wanted to comfort her so badly. He didn't really know how to go about doing it, either. Their brief stint as friends-with-benefits had really fucked up the dynamic of their friendship. A couple weeks ago, this talk would have gone a completely different way.
Lynn sniffed and wiped her eye. "Ok, I'm done having my breakdown," she announced. "Let's go inside."
"My Dad's going to tell us about the gun," Sam offered brightly.
She blinked, looking astonished. "Seriously?" Sam nodded in reply. "All of us?" she pressed.
"Yeah, all of us," Sam replied, frowning. "Why?"
"Uh…" Lynn trailed off, looking sheepish again. "I just… I kind of thought he didn't want to share that information with, you know… non-family."
It was a reasonable conclusion, and honestly Sam was surprised his father had decided to tell them everything too. "I guess something changed his mind," he said, shrugging.
Lynn looked him in the eye, and then glanced back at the motel room. "I wonder what could have done that," she muttered.
Sam looked at the motel too, sensing that Lynn already had some idea about that. "I don't know," he replied.
His father had argued with Dean, he remembered John saying. It was weird, because Dean never argued with his father. It had to have been Dean, Sam decided. Never in a million years would Sam have seen that coming.
The motel room door swung open and John stepped out, heading back to his bench. Sam watched as his father gathered his journals, and then he looked back at Lynn. "You sure you're all right?"
She nodded. "I'll be fine."
"Inside, then?"
Again, she nodded. He turned towards the motel, and Lynn fell into step beside him. As fucked as this whole thing was, Sam couldn't help the thrill of anticipation that flooded him as they headed for the room. John was going to tell them about the gun. Sam was positive the gun was connected in some way to the demon. And nothing got his blood pumping like thinking about that demon.
Maybe his father would help get Jessica her revenge after all.
Jayne blinked awake slowly, trying to drag herself from the heavy, foggy pain in her skull. The room was a little too bright, and it hurt her already burning eyes. Her whole body was sore, particularly her neck. She tried to reach up and rub the sore spot, but her arm felt like it was made of lead. Confused, she felt the bed around her, noticing the familiar leather jacket covering her shoulders.
"Jaynie?"
Still blinking, Jayne turned her head in the direction of the voice. "Dean?" she asked. Her voice came out weak and high – almost like a whimper. She winced at the pathetic sound.
"Yeah," he whispered hoarsely. She felt the mattress sag as he sat down next to her on the edge of the bed. Jayne blinked at him, trying to focus on his face. Dean smiled at her, but it was a strange smile – all trembling and such. She frowned. He reached out towards her face, brushing his fingers through her hair. Jayne relaxed slightly, swallowing. Her throat was dry. "Welcome back," he smirked at her.
"Where are we?" she asked.
"The motel," he replied, still running his fingers through her hair. "You all right?"
Jayne squinted at him. He was watching her with anxious eyes, and trying to hide his anxiety behind his usual smirk. The memory of the vampire nest came rushing back to her – the screaming, the sharp, razor-like teeth in her throat, Dean across the barn. It hit her with such force that she was nearly knocked breathless as she realized exactly what he must have done.
"I'm supposed to be dead," she announced, her tone accusing.
"You? Dead?" he smirked again, winking at her. "Not on my watch, Goldilocks."
Her frown deepened. She tried to sit up, but her arms gave out immediately. Dean barely managed to catch her, lowering her gently back to the mattress. "Whoa," he said. "Take it easy."
Jayne ignored the command and tried to sit up again. Dean pushed her back down, his hands firm but gentle on her shoulders. "Just lay down, will you?" he reprimanded, starting to sound exasperated. "You lost a lot of blood."
"You went back for me," she accused him.
Dean looked away, his shoulders tensing, and breathed a tiny, irritated sigh. "What the hell, Dean?" she demanded, ignoring his reaction.
"Let me guess," he drawled. "You're pissed at me."
"Of course I'm pissed at you!"
"Well, I guess you're ok."
"That was suicide at best," she snapped. "Rushing back in there, with all the vampires awake and pissed off… how could you do that?"
He looked her straight in the eye with an angry intensity that made her flinch. "How could I not?"
There was a long silence. Jayne stared at him, and he stared back. She swallowed, having no retort. Slowly, she attempted to sit up again. This time, he reached out and took her by the waist, helping her lean against the headboard as his jacket slid down off her and onto the bed.
"You all right?" he asked again. His hands hadn't left her waist, and there was something in the way he was looking at her that left Jayne feeling unsure and a little breathless. She nodded, swallowing again, too hard. Dean's eyes travelled the course of her face, resting on her eyes, and then on her lips. Jayne stared back, and he abruptly looked away and got to his feet.
It stung a little when he turned his back on her. She watched him cross the room and head to the sink. He filled a glass with water and then returned to her bedside, handing her the glass and sitting down again.
The sting faded. She took the glass and drank heavily. When she was done, he took it from her and set it on the nightstand. "Lynn went out to get you juice and food and stuff," he announced. He wouldn't look at her, and Jayne hated that.
"Sounds good," she whispered.
Silence.
"Thank you," she said suddenly.
Dean looked up at her in surprise. She barely met his eyes. He nodded once, frowning. There was a short pause, and then he took a deep, steadying breath. "You kind of scared me back there," he told her.
Jayne stared at him. He didn't look at her. "Sorry," she murmured.
He turned his head and stared her straight in the eye. She swallowed again. Her chest throbbed, and she couldn't quite catch her breath. Neither could she look away from Dean. He was already sitting too close, and then he leaned in, brushing a strand of hair from her face. His eyes were boring into hers and her tongue darted out to wet her lips, her breath catching in her throat. Slowly, he leaned in and pressed his lips against hers.
It was a slow, steady kind of kiss that started out gentle and hesitant, and then gained powerful momentum, turning hard and furious and full of desperation. Dean cupped the side of her face in one hand, his lips pressing harder against her mouth, and Jayne crumbled under the strength of his kiss, feeling weak and lightheaded from the blood loss – and yes, maybe a little from all the things he was doing to her. Dean wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her flush against his chest, holding her up and deepening the kiss. She whimpered against his mouth, clutching at his neck for balance. He jerked back, brows furrowed as his eyes swept her face, and then he leaned his forehead on hers. "All right?" he asked gruffly.
She nodded, squeezing her eyes shut as she clung to him. Dean pulled her even closer, hugging her tightly against him, and she buried her face in his shoulder, inhaling his scent, her lips still tingling.
The door swung open and hit the wall with a bang. Jayne jumped and Dean looked up abruptly, but didn't let her go – probably because he didn't want her to fall. She cringed before hesitantly raising her head to see who had caught them.
John stood in the doorway, looking torn between embarrassment and amusement. He cleared his throat awkwardly, and then gave them a nod. "Am I interrupting something?"
"Yes, sir," Dean replied evenly, giving him a short nod back.
Jayne turned to stare at Dean in surprise. John looked like he was fighting the urge to chuckle. "All right then," he said. "Your brother's back with the blood, and Lynn just pulled into the parking lot. Whenever you two are done…"
He trailed off, shook his head, and then stepped back outside, shutting the door gently behind him.
Jayne laughed. She couldn't help it. It was hilarious. John Winchester had just caught her cuddling with his son. Dean started in surprise, turning to stare at her as she snickered, and then he started to chuckle too. She made the mistake of looking him in the eye, and her laughter slowly died, the smile fading from her face.
"Maybe you should let me go," she said hesitantly.
Dean raised an eyebrow. Then he nodded once and disentangled himself from her, helping her lean against the headboard so she didn't bang her back. No sooner had he climbed off the bed and started for the other side of the room, but the door swung open again.
Lynn marched inside, a plastic bag hanging off her arm, and practically ran for the bed. The mattress shook as she dropped her bag on the comforter and plopped down beside Jayne, throwing her arms around her shoulders. "You're awake!" she exclaimed, squeezing her tightly.
"Yep," Jayne drawled. "Wide awake. Kind of sore. Could you get off me?"
Lynn jerked back without letting go and glared at her. Jayne smirked. "You almost died," Lynn informed her. "I get to hug you when you almost die."
Jayne rolled her eyes and heaved a mock-sigh. "Oh, all right."
Lynn hugged her tighter again, and then finally let go, sitting back on the bed. "Are you ok?" she asked.
"Fine," Jayne nodded.
"I got you food and juice. Here, take them."
Lynn began pulling things out of the bag and handing them to her. Jayne twisted off the top of the juice bottle and took a swig. Before Lynn could say anything else – or hand her anything else, for that matter – Sam and John entered the room.
"Get it?" Dean asked.
Sam nodded, holding up a brown paper bag. "Dead man's blood."
Apparently, she'd missed a lot while she'd been unconscious, Jayne noted. She wondered who had suggested grabbing the vampire poison – Lynn, or John.
Whatever had happened earlier, Jayne could feel she'd missed out on more than just the plan to kill the vampires. The atmosphere in the room was tense and awkward. She was tempted to ask what the hell happened, but if she were being totally honest – which, if anyone asked, she wouldn't be – she didn't think her nerves could handle a shouting match.
John cleared his throat, and scratched the back of his neck. Sam took a seat at the table, watching his father expectantly. Dean stood at the foot of her bed, staring his father down. He looked oddly confrontational, with his arms folded across his chest and his eyes hard.
"So, I guess you all want to hear about this gun," John said, delivering what had to be the understatement of the year.
Her sister snorted. Jayne raised her eyebrow, and Sam replied, "Yes, sir."
His tone was surprisingly calm, leaving Jayne to wonder exactly how much she did miss. John looked uncomfortable, and she could see him shifting around, searching for words. "It's just a story," he told them. "A legend… well, I thought it was. Never really believed it until I read Daniel's letter."
Jayne felt the bed dip as her sister shifted positions. Dean backed up and took his seat in a chair by her bedside. "Back in 1835, when Haley's comet was overhead, the same night those men died at the Alamo, they say Samuel Colt made a gun," John began. "A special gun. He made it for a hunter – a man like us, only on horseback. The story goes, he made thirteen bullets. This hunter used the gun half a dozen times before he disappeared, the gun along with him – until somehow Daniel got his hands on it."
She felt like she was sitting around a campfire in the woods, and John Winchester was a camp counselor, telling them all a spooky ghost story with a flashlight under his chin. It was that ridiculous. Still, John pressed on, and everyone listened in silence. "They say," John said, tucking his chin as his voice caught slightly. "They say this gun can kill anything."
Jayne felt like she was falling and her stomach had leapt into her throat. She swallowed hard, staring at John. "Kill anything like supernatural anything?" Dean asked hoarsely.
"Like the demon," Sam added, and Jayne could see his eyes were wet. Her grip on her juice tightened, and she blinked slowly, trying to absorb the enormous impact this little legend could have on her life.
"Yeah," John agreed with his son. "Like the demon."
An entire lifetime spent hunting that thing, and it all came down to John Winchester and his tall tales about special guns. Jayne swallowed again, taking a deep, shaky breath. Russ had hunted that thing until his death, and she'd picked up right where he left off, determined to avenge her mother and finish what Russ had started. She'd owed it to him. Still, since she'd discovered she was hunting a demon, she'd anticipated a showdown that culminated in an exorcism, not a shootout. The idea that there was a way to actually kill the thing sent a bolt of electricity through her body, leaving a hollow hungry feeling in her gut.
"Ever since I picked up its trail, I've been looking for a way to destroy that thing," John announced. "Find the gun; we may have it."
No one spoke for a very long time. Jayne sat still on her bed, running her tongue over her teeth. If they got their hands on that gun, they could actually kill the demon. It was making her hands itch with anticipation. Still, her stomach twisted, nausea taking hold at the realization that the gun and all its glory would have to be shared. For the first time in a long time, the hunt did not feel like it was their hunt… it did not feel like she and Lynn and the Winchesters were a team… it felt like the hunt and the kill should belong to her. To her and Lynn alone. She tried not to think that way, but the feeling wouldn't fade. Jayne studied John Winchester hard, and saw that even though the boys might still be on her side, she was going to have to pry that gun from John's cold dead hands.
John Winchester, she realized, was in her way.
"So, here's the plan," John broke the silence, and Jayne found herself glaring at him again. "We bait 'em, and we hit 'em with arrows soaked in dead man's blood. Only a few will come after us at first, but we grab the right one and we can make an exchange – girl for the gun."
"Girl?" Lynn asked.
John nodded. "Leader of the pack has a mate. We get our hands on her; he'll do anything to get her back."
"Sounds like a plan," Dean said. Then he turned and pointed a warning finger at Jayne. She frowned at him. "You're staying here," he informed her.
Jayne cocked her eyebrow, sneering at him. "Thanks, Doc," she retorted. "You know, even I can figure out when I'm not fit for vampire slaying."
"News to me," he smirked.
"She's not staying," John spoke up. Everyone turned to stare at him. "We're packing up and checking out. The second we've got the gun, we leave town."
"What?" Dean exploded. Jayne raised her eyebrow again, her eyes flicking from Dean to his father in concern. She did not want the two of them fighting about her of all subjects. "You're kidding me, right? She can barely sit up!"
"I told you once a vampire catches your scent, it's for life," John thundered back. "If there is anyone left in this motel, they will come here."
Dean opened his mouth to yell some more, and then stopped. His lips moved, but no sound came out. Jayne watched, amused in spite of herself, at the way his breath huffed out in short, exasperated puffs as he looked from her and back to his father. "I…" he tried. "I… but… she... you…"
"Look, boys, it's nice everyone's so worried about me," Jayne swooped in. "And by nice, I mean annoying."
"Jayne," Lynn admonished her softly. Jayne ignored her.
"I'd like it if we could get this show on the road with minimal bickering," she went on. "So if my best option is to ride along with the rest of you, I'll ride along. Ok? Just don't expect anything fantastic out of me. I'm not exactly the Six Million Dollar Man right now."
She hated admitting that. It was embarrassing, but it was also true. Jayne was stubborn and tended to push herself too hard, but she was also getting dizzy just moving her head around. She knew when she'd been beat – well, sometimes she knew.
"Then we're agreed," John said with a quick nod in her direction. "Pack up and get moving."
He disappeared outside again, and Jayne had to wonder exactly where he kept going. Lynn and Sam heeded his orders, gathering up their bags and stuffing the few items they'd unpacked back inside. Dean stood still at the end of her bed, staring at the door, still looking thunderstruck.
He slowly turned to look at her, and she smiled brightly at him. "Are you ok?" she asked innocently.
"Let me ask you one thing," he said. "Why is it when I want to get along with my father, you're picking a fight with him – and when I'm arguing with him, that's when you take his side?"
Jayne snorted. "Is that a serious question?"
Dean rolled his eyes and marched off to pack his bag, muttering under his breath. She smiled slightly, shaking her head, and then took another swig of her juice. Setting the bottle on the nightstand, she slowly swung her legs over the edge of the bed and glanced around the room for her duffel.
"Do not get up," Lynn snapped from the other side of the room. "I will get your stuff. Just eat the food I bought you."
Jayne sighed, but did as ordered. This was getting old fast. "I'll have you know I'm not an invalid."
"You are so an invalid," Lynn retorted. "Get up, I dare you. I'll hang pink fuzzy dice on Janis's rearview mirror."
"You wouldn't!" Jayne gasped.
"Try me."
With a heavy sigh, Jayne swung her legs back up on the bed and leaned against the headboard. "Fine," she grumbled.
It didn't take them long to get their things together. John came in and out a few times, gathering up his papers and things, and then ordered them to hurry up before marching outside for good.
Lynn snatched up her duffel, and so did Sam. They headed outside. Dean snatched his jacket from her bed and put it back on, and then he grabbed his duffel as well as Jayne's and marched for the door. "Don't move," he ordered over his shoulder. "I'll be right back."
She snorted. He left the room and she took a few minutes to finish her food. Then she brushed off her hands and once again swung her legs over the side of the bed. Slowly, she pushed herself up onto her feet, and managed to stand all the way up without falling. Still, her legs felt wobbly and her vision blurred. Taking a deep breath, she took a hesitant step forward. The movement went straight to her head and she promptly crumpled to the floor.
"Damn it," she muttered, blinking to regain her focus. She cupped her aching head in her hand, and slumped back against the bed.
"What the hell are you doing?" Dean suddenly bellowed from the doorway. Jayne rolled her eyes. "I told you not to move!"
"Yeah, yeah, yeah," she grumbled, reaching out and grabbing the side of the bed. "And I didn't listen. What else is new?"
She tried pulling herself to her feet, but Dean suddenly appeared in front of her and took her by the arms, pulling her off the ground and plopping her back on the bed. He kept his hands on her shoulders, holding her steady as she waited for her vision to clear. "You're an idiot," he told her.
"Shut up."
Suddenly, she was off the bed and in his arms. Jayne shoved his shoulder, but he barely flinched. "Put me down!"
"Not going to happen."
He stubbornly marched towards the door, still carrying her. Jayne gaped at him. "Dean, I swear if you don't…"
"I'm carrying you. Deal with it, Goldilocks."
Jayne clenched her fists, glaring at him, but Dean didn't look the least bit intimidated. He carried her all the way out to the parking lot and then tucked her in the passenger seat of her truck like she was a small child. The moment she was seated, she reached out and slugged him in the arm.
"Ow!" he exclaimed, rubbing the sore spot. "What the hell was that for?"
"I told you to put me down."
"You're welcome."
Jayne huffed. "Whatever."
He stood outside the truck a moment, his hand on the door, staring at her. Jayne swallowed, feeling all of a sudden like they were back in the motel room, just the two of them. Once again, she felt odd, unsure… almost fluttery.
The driver's side door swung open and Lynn hopped into the truck. Dean tore his eyes away, and Jayne felt whatever had been between them vanish. "Don't do anything stupid," he ordered. Then he slammed the door shut.
Jayne watched him saunter off towards his car. Lynn started the truck and sighed. "I swear, John better be right about all this. If you get hurt again, I'll lop his head off instead of the vampires."
She snorted. "Right, Lynn. Thanks."
Something had happened in that motel room, she realized. What it was, she couldn't be sure, but it had happened. It was impossible to shake the fluttery feeling in her stomach.
Dean hated playing bait.
He stood alone in the dark, out in the middle of the woods on a dirt back road, bent over the engine block of his Impala. The woods were too quiet, and he could feel the hairs on the back of his neck standing up straight. He felt exposed, and knowing Sam, Lynn and his father were positioned all around him, armed with crossbows and dead man's blood did very little to make him feel protected.
Lynn better be keeping an eye on her sister, he thought in annoyance, pretending to fiddle with his engine. It was bad enough that Jayne was out here in the first place, hunkered down in her truck, despite her condition. If his father hadn't made that compelling argument about the vampires sniffing her out at the motel, he'd have made her to stay behind. As it was, nothing was going his way today.
"Car trouble?"
Dean swiveled at the woman's voice behind him, finding himself face-to-face with an auburn-haired woman in ripped up clothes that had to be as old as his cassette collection. She sauntered towards him, smirking. "I can give you a lift," she offered. "Take you back to my place."
He smirked back. "I'll pass. I usually draw the line at necrophilia."
"Ooh."
The next thing Dean knew, her fist had propelled itself into his jaw with all the force of an eighteen-wheeler. He toppled over, landing next to the front bumper of his car, grimacing with pain. The vampire grabbed him around the chin in one hand and lifted him off his feet. Flinching, Dean looked from her to the large, dark-skinned vampire behind her, smirking at Dean's predicament. He wrapped his hand around her wrist, but the vampire didn't notice.
"Well, I don't normally get this friendly until the second date," Dean quipped.
"You know, we could have some fun," she said, although her voice promised no fun at all. "I just love making new friends."
She lowered him back to his feet, her hand still squeezing his jaw, and pulled him in for a kiss. Dean grimaced as her lips pressed against his, not bothering to struggle against her vice-like grip. She pulled back, and he made a face. "Sorry, I don't really stay with a chick that long – definitely not eternity."
That's when he heard the release of the crossbow. One arrow plunged through the large vampire lurking behind the woman. The second arrow pierced the woman's chest. She released him and Dean stumbled back, rubbing his jaw and gasping for breath.
"Damn it," the vampire rolled her eyes. She turned around and Dean looked up to see Sam, Lynn and his father marching out of the trees. "Barely even stings," she informed them.
"Give it time, sweetheart," John retorted. "That arrow's soaked in dead man's blood. It's like poison to you, isn't it?"
For a moment, the vampire stood still and said nothing, glaring at John. Then her knees gave out and she slumped to the side. Dean caught her as her eyes rolled into the back of her head. Her companion fell to his knees, equally immobilized, still glowering at the hunters.
"Load her up," John ordered. "I'll take care of this one."
Dean did as commanded, carrying the vampire off to his dad's truck. Sam and Lynn followed him.
From behind him, he could hear the slice of his father's machete as it swung through the other vampire's neck, and the thump as its head hit the forest floor.
Lynn poked a stick into the campfire she'd help Sam set near their vehicles. The vampire they'd captured was tied up and leaning against a tree on the other side of the fire. On her right, John and Sam were gathering things out of the bed of John's truck. Jayne had taken the opportunity to climb out of Janis' cab. Now she was leaning on the side of her vehicle, watching everyone like a hawk.
She looked over her shoulder at her older sister, raising her eyebrow. The panic from earlier in the day had subsided now that Jayne was awake and standing and being her usual annoying self. For a moment, back in the woods, back at the motel, Lynn had been genuinely afraid that her sister wasn't waking up.
"What the hell are you doing out of the truck?" she heard Dean gripe at her sister.
Jayne snorted. "Chill. I can stand, you know. And the only vampire out in these woods is tied to that tree over there."
She let their bickering wash over her, tuning them out. They continued to argue, but she quit listening.
"Toss this on the fire," she heard John say to Sam. "Saffron, skunk cabbage and trillium. It'll block our scent and hers until we're ready."
Sam appeared beside her and tossed a large bowl of something onto the flames. She coughed as the stinky smoke hit her nostrils. "Ew," she said, wrinkling her nose. "Holy crap, that reeks."
"That's the idea," John retorted. Lynn raised an eyebrow at him, but he didn't look her way. "Everyone dust your clothes with the ashes, and you might stand a chance of not being detected."
"Are you sure they'll come after her?" Sam asked.
"Yeah," John replied. "Vampires mate for life. She means more to the leader than the gun. But the blood sickness is going to wear off soon, so we don't have a lot of time."
He gave Sam a meaningful look that Lynn had no problem deciphering. The basics of the plan had been laid out already – John would take the vampire and draw the leader away, while the rest of them cleaned out the nest. "Half hour ought to do it," Sam said.
"And then I want you out of the area as fast as you can be," John added.
Sam frowned, shaking his head. "Wait, what?"
"You're going to do the trade by yourself?" Lynn asked incredulously.
"What?" Dean's voice sounded behind them. Lynn turned to see him heading over to their group, Jayne on his heels. "Dad, you can't take them all on alone."
"I'll have her," John returned, nodding at the vampire by the fire. "And the Colt."
Lynn frowned, shaking her head. No matter what John said, this did not seem like a good idea. One man with one hostage and a gun he didn't even have yet was not going to stand up to multiple pissed off vampires.
"But after," Sam said, looking John dead in the eye. "We'll meet up, right?" John looked away at the question, but Sam didn't take his eyes off his father. "Use the gun together, right?" he pressed, but still his father said nothing.
"Oh, I get it," Jayne spat, and Lynn whirled around to stare at her. Jayne pushed past her, walking on wobbly legs, and stopped in front of John. She drew herself up to her full height, glowering at the older hunter. "You think you're going to take that gun and run with it. Cut us all out of the action."
"Unbelievable," Sam snorted, shaking his head. "You still want to go after the thing alone."
"Not a chance in hell," Jayne added, still glowering at John. "I've waited my whole life to put that thing down, and you aren't taking that away from me."
Lynn swallowed at her sister's tone, stepping forward and taking her arm. "Jayne…"
"No, she's right," Sam interrupted, stepping up too. "You know, I don't get you. You can't treat us like this."
"Like what?" John retorted.
"Like children."
"You are my children," John snapped. "I'm trying to keep you safe."
"You may be doing just that," Jayne returned. "For them. But that excuse isn't going to fly with me. You're trying to cut us out."
"What are you going to do about it?" John asked, his patience wearing thin. Lynn tightened her arm protectively around her sister's arm, but Jayne didn't seem to need her help.
"Right now?" Jayne shrugged. "Probably nothing. But don't think you can run from me, John. You get your hands on that gun – which, in all probability, you won't because you're insisting on pulling off the trade solo, so you'll probably just end up dead – but let's say you pull this off and get the Colt? There will be nowhere on this Earth you can hide from me. I will hunt you down and I will take that gun from you if I have to. You are not going to dangle some legend about a demon-killing gun in my face and then snatch it back from me."
Lynn swallowed because her sister's words were completely confrontational, and John looked pissed. Stepping forward and subtly angling herself in front of her sister, she tilted her chin towards the sky and looked John in the eye. "I'm with her," she announced. "Look, we all have the same goal here, so doesn't it make more sense to work together instead of against each other? Don't you have demons enough chasing you? Do you really want to have to look over your shoulder for us too?"
John's lips twitched into a semi-amused, slightly irritated smirk. He raised his eyebrow. "No offense, ladies… but if I can shake an angry demon off my tail, I'm pretty damn sure I can shake you too."
"Dad, this is stupid," Sam said bluntly.
"I'm trying to protect you, Sammy," John retorted. "Why can't you see that?"
"All due respect, Dad, but that's a bunch of crap."
It was Dean who had spoken, and Lynn couldn't stop herself from whirling around and gaping at him in shock. The entire hunt had been spent with John barking orders, Sam and Jayne snapping back, and Dean trying to keep the peace. Not once had he sided against his dad – not until after Jayne had been bitten in the vampire nest – and since Jayne was fine now, she'd expected him to fall into line again. Instead, he was calling his father out.
Sam was gawking at him too, and Jayne looked at him over her shoulder, wearing a confused frown. John was so taken aback that Lynn nearly laughed at the expression on his face. "Excuse me?" he asked.
"You know what Sammy and I have been hunting," Dean retorted. "Hell, you sent us on a few hunting trips yourself. You can't be that worried about keeping us safe."
"It's not the same thing, Dean."
"Then what is it?" Dean demanded. "Why do you want us out of the big fight?"
"This demon… it's a bad son of a bitch. I can't make the same moves if I'm worried about keeping the two of you alive."
"Fine," Jayne snapped. "Sideline them. But you don't have to pull that crap with me, or my sister. You don't give a damn about us, so stop trying to screw us!"
"Jayne," Lynn admonished, smacking her arm.
"Nobody's sidelining anybody," Dean barked, stepping up beside Jayne. "You think I don't know what you're really trying to say, Dad? You can't make the same moves? You mean you can't be as reckless!"
There was a brief silence. John shook his head, not making eye contact with either of his sons. "Look," he admitted. "I don't expect to make it out of this fight in once piece."
Lynn tightened her hand on Jayne's arm again, starting to feel like an intruder on a private family scene. She wanted to head back towards the truck, but Jayne wasn't moving. "Your mother's death – it almost killed me," John went on, and Lynn blinked as her eyes started to sting, wishing she wasn't interloping on this conversation. She took a step to the side, removing herself from the middle of the altercation, letting John and his boys continue their confrontation semi-alone. To her surprise, Jayne let herself be tugged off to the side. "I can't watch my children die too," John continued. "I won't."
"What happens if you die?" Dean retorted. "Dad, what happens if you die and we could have done something about it? You know, I've been thinking and… and I think maybe Sammy's right about this one. We should do this together. We're stronger as a family, Dad. We just are, and you know it."
They shouldn't be there, Lynn fretted, shaking her head. She and Jayne did not belong there; they should not be witnessing this exchange. Even distancing themselves like they had, removing to the sidelines and watching without tossing their two cents in – it was still wrong. They were a family, and she and Jayne were not a part of it. They shouldn't be there. Lynn blinked, fixing her eyes on the forest floor.
"We're running out of time," John said, ending the conversation. "You do your job and you get out of the area."
Both Sam and Dean fixed their father with stony glares. John didn't back down. "That's an order," he snapped. Then he marched off towards the vampire woman, and the rest of the hunters were left to stare at his back.
Jayne cussed under her breath, glowering at John as he grabbed the hostage and marched towards his truck. "We can't let this happen, Lynn," she hissed, and Lynn was struck by the sudden desperation in her sister's voice. "We cannot let that man walk out of here with that gun. We need that gun."
"Jaynie," she whispered, shaking her head. "Look, I don't like it either, but we don't need anything from him. If we're going to take that thing on, then maybe…"
"I can't do it, Lynn," Jayne interrupted. "I can't. Ever since he told us about that gun, it's all I can think about, and I can't… he is not getting away with this."
"Relax, Goldilocks," Dean spoke up, and Lynn looked guiltily in his direction as she realized the brothers could hear every word they were saying. "My Dad's not going anywhere without us. I've got a plan."
Jayne did not look appeased, but she fell silent. Sam shook his head, still looking furious, and started loading up the Impala again. John's truck engine had already started, and as Lynn led Jayne back towards Janis, John steered his vehicle out of the brush and towards the road.
Lynn left her sister on the passenger side of the truck, and then headed around to the driver's seat. She opened the door as Jayne opened hers, but neither one of them got in. Dean chose that moment to corner her sister, and Lynn froze beside the truck, listening in on every word.
"Did you mean what you said?" he demanded.
Jayne just stared at him. "When you told my Dad to sideline us?" Dean pressed angrily. "Leave my brother and me out of it and work out a deal with you?"
Lynn worried her lower lip with her teeth as Dean bent over her sister, grabbing her by the arms. "Would you have really done that?" he barked.
"I want that demon dead, Dean," Jayne replied in a low voice, lifting her head to stare evenly into his eyes. "And I need to be there when it dies."
Dean glared at her. There was long, pregnant silence as the two stared each other down. "She didn't mean it," Lynn spoke up, and both of them whirled around to stare at her in surprise. "Really, she didn't. She knew your dad wouldn't go for it. And if he had… we would have cut you in. You know that, Dean."
He snorted, letting go of Jayne's arms, and turned his back abruptly on both of them. Jayne stared after him as he marched back towards the Impala where Sam was waiting. Lynn shook her head and climbed into the truck. After a moment, Jayne climbed in too, and stared stonily out the windshield.
Lynn waited until they were on the road, following the Impala back to the barn where the vampires had nested. Then she asked the question.
"You didn't mean it right?"
Jayne shrugged. "Don't do that," Lynn snapped. "I know you didn't mean it."
"I didn't mean it," she repeated in a whisper, still not looking at Lynn.
There was silence again. Lynn shook her head, staring at the road. "Jaynie, you're scaring me a little."
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean it." The words sounded hollow, and Lynn felt no better about the whole situation. "It's just… we need that gun, Lynn. We need to kill that demon."
Lynn didn't reply. The two of them sat through another long silence.
"You got to admit, that's the way Russ would have wanted it," Jayne spoke up suddenly. "You and me and Steve. No Winchesters, no deals… just us and that gun, finally ending it."
"But you're not Dad," Lynn retorted. "And neither am I, and in case you haven't noticed, Steve isn't even here."
Jayne looked at the floor.
"Don't be Dad," Lynn pressed. "Don't be John. Be better than them, Jaynie."
Her stepsister's silence wasn't exactly comforting, but Lynn knew better than to recognize it as complete rejection. Jayne's silence could mean anything, really. Lynn watched the dark road and the black car ahead of them, her breath catching in her throat as she contemplated the day she'd had.
She wanted that gun too. Her memories of Ana Gibson were few, and all of them very blurry, but she knew Ana had taken her in and loved her when her own mother wouldn't. Lynn would slaughter every demon in the world for that woman.
But they were going to find a way to do it together, of that she was certain. She, Jayne, Steve, and all the Winchesters – even John. They were a team now, whether they liked it or not.
Sam sat in the passenger seat of the Impala, glowering moodily out the windshield. He was irritated, but not overly angry. Honestly, he wasn't sure what to feel. He wanted to get that gun back; he wanted to kill that demon. He was tired of his father treating him like a child. Still, he had always been laboring under the impression that if Dean would only stand up to his father, things would be different – that if he had another person on his side, he could make John listen.
Dean had finally done it. First, at the motel. Sam didn't know what Dean had said to their father, but it had made an impression on the man. He'd given up the details on the gun.
Then he'd stood up to him again, out in the woods. But John hadn't listened this time. The fighting had only escalated, and then John had completely shut them down. To make matters worse, the whole ugly family feud had been witnessed by both Jayne and Lynn, who had their own reasons to want the Colt and be pissed at John Winchester. Truthfully, Sam didn't know what to make of some of the things that had been said.
Dean parked the Impala in the trees, and Lynn steered the truck in beside it. Sam could see the barn from there, looking eerily deserted in the dark. There was only one car in front of the barn, and Sam clenched his fists, knowing that more vampires had gone after John than any of them were expecting.
His brother didn't say anything as he climbed out of the car. Sam followed his lead, pausing only to wait as Lynn climbed down from the truck. Dean stopped outside Jayne's open window.
"Stay," he ordered. "Shoot anything that moves."
Sam expected to hear some sort of sarcastic retort on Jayne's end, but she said nothing. Dean marched away from the truck and headed for the barn. Sam frowned after him, but followed none the less. Lynn fell into step beside him, and the three of them set off across the field, machetes in hand.
He had barely spoken to her since the beginning of the hunt. Ever since his father had shown up, he'd been caught in a never-ending cycle of angry – angry at his dad, angry at Dean, angry about the demon and his life and Jessica. He didn't have room for Lynn, and sex, and the lack thereof, and the state of their friendship. She probably hadn't had room for all that either, considering what had gone down with her sister.
His desire to talk to her always sprang up at the most inconvenient moments, but as they snuck towards the barn, through the brush, he had to fight the urge to say something to her. He couldn't – the vampires would hear them – but he wanted to ask her a question or make a joke or something.
The three of them ducked from the shadow of a tree to the shadow of the barn, doing their best to keep out of the moonlight. Sam watched his brother sneak in through the side door, and then slipped in after him, Lynn on his heels.
A quick survey of the barn proved that there was only one vampire at home. He'd heard their entrance though, and was slinking around the barn with a bottle of whiskey in his hand, looking for the source of the noise. As Sam watched, Dean darted out from the door and crept up behind the vampire.
The man spun around. "Boo," Dean quipped. Then he swung his machete through the vampire's neck.
Lynn winced beside him as the vampire's head hit the ground. "Quick," Dean ordered, wiping the blood of his machete. "We got to get those people out, and then we've got to find Dad before he does something stupid."
Sam nodded in agreement, marching for the cage by the front doors. Dean and Lynn followed him, and Dean went to work on the lock. Soon, the door had been opened and Sam found himself helping the weak, crippled people inside out of the barn and into the field. As he supported a middle-aged lady with light hair out the barn doors, he noticed the outline of Jayne's truck, headlights off, navigating through the trees.
"I can see lights up on the road," Lynn said suddenly, gently setting a young woman on the ground as she peered at the trees. Sam followed her eyes and discovered she was right. The lights were stationary, illuminating a stretch of the highway. Instinctively, he knew his father was up there, powwowing with the vampires.
Jayne's truck rolled to a stop outside the barn. "Load them up," Jayne ordered through the open window. "I'll take them into town. You three go get John."
"I told you to stay put," Dean snapped, supporting a large, barely conscious man on his shoulder.
Sam smirked as Jayne shrugged mockingly at Dean. "I ignored you."
"You sure you'll be ok driving?" Lynn asked skeptically, prompting Jayne to roll her eyes.
"Jesus fucking Christ."
"Take that as a yes," Lynn muttered.
They made quick work of the vampires' victims, helping the worst two into the cab, and then supporting the rest them into the back of Jayne's truck. When everyone was situated, Jayne drove off, not even waiting for the victims to finish thanking their rescuers.
The moment Jayne pulled away from the barn Sam took off running for the highway. Dean and Lynn followed on his heels. Somewhere up on that road, John was in need of a rescue.
Why were there so many damn trees in his way?
Dean shoved his way through the brush, rushing for the main road. Lynn was right behind him, and Sam was a few steps ahead of them both. He clutched a crossbow against his chest as he rushed after his little brother, hoping against hope that they'd reach his father in time.
As they got closer, the trees cleared and Dean could finally see the highway. In the lights from both his father's truck and the vampires' cars, he could see John standing before the majority of the vampire pack. One tall man with long black hair grabbed John by his coat and threw him backwards into the truck, shattering the glass in the driver's side window.
The vampires were advancing, but the other hunters were close enough to shoot. Dean let an arrow fly from his crossbow, piercing the chest of a girl in a miniskirt and a cowboy hat. She crumpled to her knees.
As she fell, the rest of the vampires turned towards the new arrivals, and Dean fired the crossbow again. He took out a young man with shaggy hair and a green cargo jacket. Lynn flew in off his right, machete in hand, and swung the blade through the neck of the fallen male vampire. Sam rushed out of the trees, swinging his machete too, but the tall, long haired vampire caught him in the chest with his fist, knocking Sam to the ground.
Lynn cried out, rushing forward. Dean snatched Sam's fallen machete off the street and rushed the vampire too, but the thing had already snatched Sam up by his jacket and wrapped an arm around his throat. "Don't!" the vampire ordered. "I'll break his neck."
Dean's throat constricted as he clutched the machete in his hand. Lynn froze beside him, staring wide-eyed at Sam.
"Put the blade down," the vampire said.
He struggled for a moment, staring at the vampire with hard eyes. The other man tightened his grip on Sam's neck, and Sam gasped in pain. Dean flinched, his instinct to protect Sammy winning out above all else. He held out his hand in surrender, and then dropped the knife.
"You too," the vampire pressed, nodding at Lynn.
Dean turned to the other hunter, fixing her with pleading eyes. Her arm fell limp, and the machete tumbled out of her grasp. The vampire shook his head in disgust.
"You people," he spat at them. "Why can't you just leave us alone? We have as much a right to live as you do."
"I don't think so," John Winchester's gravelly voice sounded from behind them.
The vampire spun, Sam still clutched in his grasp. John had gotten his hands on the Colt and he fired without hesitation. The gunshot rang out in the street, the bullet piercing the vampire's forehead. He froze, standing stock still and staring at John with empty eyes. His grasp on Sam faltered, and Sam stumbled back from him. Dean grabbed his brother, his tense shoulders slumping with instant relief as his hands closed around Sam's arms. Lynn appeared on Sam's other side, wrapping her arm around his as she tried to support him.
The bullet hole in the vampire's head was large and black and oozing with navy blood. There was a flash of light, and Dean swore he could see the vampire's skull under his skin. Then the creature fell to his knees, toppling forward on his hands.
"Luther!" the vampire woman they'd captured earlier shouted in horror.
There was another flash of light, and Luther collapsed face first in the street.
Dean stared at the dead vampire in shock, still clutching his brother's arm. He looked to Sam and Lynn, who were both gawking at the body in the road, still holding onto one another. Dean couldn't quite believe his eyes. The Colt had worked. The vampire was dead. The legend was real.
In all honesty, Dean hadn't expected the legend to be real.
The vampire woman snarled, making a move towards John, but the only other remaining vampire grabbed her arm and dragged her to one of the cars. Luther's mate looked furious, but her friend drove off, leaving their dead packmates and the hunters on the highway, in a cloud of exhaust.
Dean watched the car leave, and then his eyes fell on the dead vampire again. Then he looked up slowly from the vampire to his father, still standing by his truck with the Colt held loosely in his hand. For a moment, all four hunters stared at one another, shocked and silent. The road and the woods around it were eerily still.
John smiled, and the look of utter satisfaction on his father's face sent a shiver down Dean's spine.
Sam yawned, folding a shirt into his duffel bag. Dean stood at the other bed in the room, folding shirts as well. The motel room was dead silent.
The gun was real, and Sam still couldn't get over that. The gun was real, and it actually worked. Now, they were all camped out in a motel three hours away from where they'd showed down with the vampires, and all Sam could think about was the possibility that his father was going to leave and take that gun with him.
He was still thinking that way when the motel room door swung open and John walked into the room. Both Sam and his brother dropped the shirts they were packing and turned to stare at their father.
"So boys," he announced with a sigh, shoving his hands in his jeans pockets. Sam watched him uneasily as he crossed the room, his boots scuffing against the hard, aged carpet.
"Yes, sir," Sam replied.
"You ignored a direct order back there."
"Yes, sir," Sam agreed.
"But we saved your ass," Dean retorted.
Instant panic flooded Sam as the words left his brother's lips. He darted wide eyes in Dean's direction, trying to figure out whether or not Dean had officially lost his mind.
To his great surprise, John did not start yelling. He just stared at Dean, who stared right back. "You're right," John said finally.
Sam blinked in shock. Dean looked plenty surprised too. "I am?" he asked.
"Scares the hell out of me," John admitted. "You two are all I've got. But I guess we are stronger as a family."
Sam stared at his father hopefully. "So, if we go after this damn thing," John went on, a small smile crinkling the corners of his mouth. "We go after it together."
"Yes sir," Sam and Dean agreed simultaneously.
The three of them smiled at one another. For a moment, Sam really thought everything was going to work out for them. And then Dean dropped the bombshell. "By together," he said, taking a step forward. "I'm assuming you mean all of us."
As soon as the words left Dean's mouth, Sam's shoulder slumped. He half-expected another argument, or for his father to simply close up and refuse to answer. Neither of those things happened. Instead, John cracked another smile. Sam smiled involuntarily at the sight of it.
"Sure," he nodded. "The more the merrier."
John clearly didn't mean that at all. The words seemed to have been physically painful for him to say. But it was enough. Sam didn't say thank you, and he didn't hug the man. He just smiled at his father, and so did Dean. John smiled back, and for the first time in a very long time, Sam felt like they had a family again.
They had family, they had friends, and they had a demon-killing gun. Anticipation took hold, and Sam didn't fight the cold satisfaction that settled in his gut.
Lynn fluffed her damp hair with a towel as she sauntered out of the bathroom, wearing her sweats. She snatched her cell phone off the bedside table and glanced at the display. She'd sent Jayne a text, telling her where to meet them. Lynn sighed in relief to see a reply text from her sister, assuring her that she was fine and she'd be at the motel soon.
The motel looked a lot like the last one – fake log cabin theme, dim lighting, and lumpy beds. But Lynn wasn't thinking about the state of the room. She was thinking about the demon that had killed her stepmother, and she was thinking about the Colt revolver.
Sam and Dean were holed up in the room next door. John was supposed to be next door too, but Lynn wouldn't be surprised if he'd already bailed. After that scene in the woods, his intentions had been made clear. He wanted the gun, he wanted to hunt that demon solo, and he wanted his boys out of the line of fire.
He also didn't want to share the gun and the glory with two random hunters his sons had picked up in Chicago. And no matter what had happened out on the highway with the vampires, she doubted John had changed his mind.
There was a knock on the door. Sighing, Lynn tossed her towel onto the bed and peeked through the peephole before swinging the door wide open.
"Hey, Sam," she greeted the tall, shaggy-haired boy on the other side of the threshold.
"Hey," he smiled. "Could I come in?"
She stepped back from the doorway, holding the door open. Sam walked inside, and she shut the motel room up after him. "What's up?" she asked.
A part of her wondered if he was here to rekindle their arrangement. After all, the scene was strangely reminiscent of many nights before. He'd come to her room, Jayne would be out, clothes would come off…
"My Dad's staying," Sam announced with a bright smile. "He said that Dean was right. That we were stronger as a family."
Whatever she had expected to hear, that hadn't been it. "Oh," she replied, trying to grin as wide as he was grinning. "That's great, Sam."
"He's not taking off in the middle of the night with the Colt," Sam went on. "We're going to hunt the demon together. All five of us."
It shouldn't have filled her with relief and happiness and hope, but that one little sentence put a genuine smile on her face. "Really?" she asked, jumping a little. She felt like an overly excited schoolgirl. Probably looked like one too.
Sam nodded, still grinning. "Really."
Lynn shrieked and threw her arms around his shoulders. Sam hugged her back without hesitation, lifting her off the ground. His arms squeezed her waist, and she smiled over his shoulder, still clutching his neck.
Her feet hit the carpet again, and she grinned up at him, still clinging to his arms. Sam's arms were still around his waist, and he was smiling happily.
Reality set in. Sam cleared his throat, and yanked his arms away. Lynn's smile faded and she dropped her hands from his shoulders. For a moment, they stood awkwardly in the center of her motel room, Lynn staring at the carpet, and Sam staring at the door.
"Well, I just wanted to tell you," Sam said.
She smiled at him, nodding. "Right. Thanks."
"So you'll be sticking around?"
Lynn rolled her eyes, another genuine smile crossing her face. "Duh."
He chuckled slightly. "Great. Um… I guess I better…"
"Right," she agreed, nodding again. "Glad John changed his mind."
"Me too," he returned earnestly. Then he scratched at the back of his neck and stepped around her, headed for the door. "See you in the morning."
"Good night!"
Sam smiled at her one last time and ducked out of the room, shutting the door behind him. Lynn half smiled at the carpet, shaking her head at her own silliness. The two of them had just stopped having sex, and now they were going to get weird about it every time they touched? It was stupid.
None of that mattered though. For the first time in a long time, Lynn had hope that she and Jayne and Steve would finally find the demon that killed Ana. They'd finally kill that thing, and then her father's soul could rest in peace.
It had only taken twenty-two years.
Jayne yawned as she steered the truck into the motel parking lot, completely exhausted. It was a motel three hours out of town whose address Lynn had texted her, telling her to meet the other hunters there. After dropping off the weak, sluggish, but very grateful vampire victims at the local clinic, Jayne had bailed on the small mountain town and headed for the designated meeting spot.
Her neck was throbbing, and there was a dull ache behind her eyes. She yawned again as she parked the truck beside Dean's Impala. Surprisingly, John's truck was in the lot too. Lynn had told her in a text that they were all fine and they'd gotten the Colt and John had announced that he wanted to stick around and work together, but Jayne honestly hadn't fully believed her until she pulled into the parking lot and saw John's truck.
She hoped she could make it to the motel room. Every muscle in her body craved rest, and she was feeling light-headed. Jayne reached for the handle, but her truck door swung open before she made it halfway there.
Dean appeared in the frame, leaning on the open door. Jayne frowned up at him as he reached into the truck to help her down. "What are you doing?" she asked.
He scoffed. "Helping you. Duh."
"Why?"
She regretted the question as soon as she saw the look on his face. Dean shook his head at her in astonishment. "Well, I thought you were mad at me," Jayne defended herself.
"You know what, fine," Dean spat, stepping away from the truck. "Figure it out yourself."
He turned from her, and Jayne winced slightly. Taking a deep breath, she pushed herself out of the truck. Her tired legs hit the pavement and her vision blurred as they gave out from under her. Dean caught her, holding her up against his chest. She blinked, trying to focus her vision.
"Are you all right?" he asked with a concerned frown.
She nodded. He helped her stand all the way up, and only let go of her when she had a firm grip on the bed of her truck. For a moment they stood there in the parking lot, Dean glaring at Janis, and Jayne staring meekly at the pavement.
"Lynn was right," she said suddenly. "What I said; I didn't mean it."
Dean snorted. "So what? She speaks for you now?"
Jayne shrugged, still staring at the pavement. "She probably should."
He actually laughed.
Silence followed. She shifted about uncomfortably, still holding onto the truck. "Dean… I got angry, ok?"
He nodded without looking at her.
"It's just that… finding this demon? Killing it? It's important to me."
"It's important to all of us," he retorted.
"Look, I know that," she said. "But… when John said he was leaving…"
She trailed off uselessly as Dean fixed her with a hard look. Jayne swallowed, feeling weak in the knees again.
"That thing killed my mom," she finished softly.
"It killed mine too."
His tone was irritable, he still looked angry, and she still felt like shit. "Russ wanted me to keep after the thing," Jayne said quietly. "He died before he got the chance to… I have to do this, not just for her, but for him too. And I know you have the same reasons and I know you deserve to be in on this, but so do Lynn and I, and when your father said he was going to bail on us… I kind of panicked. I stopped seeing the big picture. I… I don't know. Do you know what I'm trying to say?"
Dean stared at her. She stared back, trying to figure his expression out. He just watched her for a moment, and then nodded. "Yeah, I think I do."
She swallowed, and he looked down at the ground, scratching at the back of his neck. "Look, you're annoying," he told her. "But I don't want to be mad at you today."
Jayne snorted. "Thanks," she retorted. "That's sweet."
He smirked. She smiled slightly. Then he slammed her truck door shut and took her by the arm. She leaned on him as he led the way to the motel. When they reached the motel room, he didn't open the door. He didn't even knock.
Jayne stared at him as his eyes bored into hers. She suddenly felt very vulnerable, and she didn't know why. Flashes of the last motel room came rushing back to her – the kiss, the hug, the inevitable interruption…
Dean wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her against him. Jayne gripped his arms, still staring up at him, her tongue darting out to wet her lips. His eyes searched her face, and then he yanked her even closer, smashing his lips down on hers.
She didn't know what it meant, or why he insisted on doing it over and over again, but he was kissing her and she kind of didn't care why. Her fingers tightened around his arms, her lips pressing back against his mouth. Dean had one arm around her waist and the other hand behind her head, and he was kissing her hard, his mouth demanding and hungry on hers.
Suddenly, he pulled away. She stared at him, breathless, and he stared back for a brief moment before abruptly letting go of her. He knocked loudly on the motel room door and then turned his back on her, walking too fast towards the next room.
Her eyes were trained on his back. He ran his hand over his hair and practically threw himself against the motel room door as he unlocked it. By the time Lynn opened her door, Dean was already inside the next room and she was left wondering what the hell was going on.
The kiss stuck with her the rest of the night. She couldn't shake the feeling of his hands or his lips. Most importantly, she didn't entirely understand what the kiss meant, or what the kiss from earlier meant, or why the kissing kept happening.
Something had happened back in that motel room, maybe even before she had woken up. Whatever had happened, Jayne could feel the change in her relationship with Dean, even if she didn't have the courage to talk about it.
She just didn't know what that change meant.
