Part 54 – a week later…
(December 1, 2010)
Sam dished up two bowls of stew. Anything to warm his bones from the walk home in the freezing cold. Bobby sat down across from him and took a spoon to his own bowl. They both winced when the door slammed outside. The shouts followed. It didn't matter what they said. It wasn't about the words. Sam set down his spoon and clasped his hands over his bowl. "You think it's gonna last?"
"Usually over in about ten minutes." Bobby shrugged and spooned another mouthful of stew into his mouth.
"Not the fight… them." Sam lifted his shoulders and tilted his head toward the window. "The more time they spend together, the more this happens and… it's killing them both."
"It's a phase. The honeymoon is over and the marriage is yet to truly begin." Bobby sipped his beer and stared off into space. "Doesn't matter how many times you marry… there are always stages of settling in."
"They don't know what they're doing."
"What gave that away, Sherlock?" Bobby snorted as he got up to help himself to another helping. "This is what happens when you're young and stupid. There they are. Young and Stupid, themselves."
Sam felt helpless as he watched Dean gesture emphatically with his arms where he stood three yards from his front door. Liz shouted back, gesturing herself, but every time she made to step off the porch, Dean advanced. The movement forced her back into the cottage until finally she'd had enough and slammed the door behind her as she retreated to its warm comfort.
Dean just stood there, arms wrapped around his middle for ten minutes before turning to cross the street to the bar. "Marty's cut him off. He'll be back soon enough."
"I know." Sam nodded and sure enough, Dean stormed back into the salvage yard and kicked an old tire for several minutes. Watched him stand in the space between Bobby's house and the cottage. He was equidistant. He could just as easily have gone to Bobby's to warm up until he was ready to make up with Liz. He could have easily escaped in the Impala to get the beer he clearly wanted. Instead, he sat on the porch and stared up at the darkening sky and endured in the freezing cold.
Finally, Sam had had enough. Taking a mug of coffee, he walked out to his brother. "Here."
"Thanks." Dean took it and sipped carefully.
"You okay?"
"Absolutely." He tried to look casual as he relaxed on the freezing cold stoop. "Don't I look okay?"
"What happened on Thanksgiving, man? Ever since then… you've been fighting like cats and dogs."
"Sammy… we were fighting before that." Dean offered his brother a wan smile. "Do you remember the off-months when we were kids? Dad would take us with him just so he could keep an eye on us?"
"Cause we'd already torn up the hotel rooms or apartments crawling the walls for something to do."
"Right." Dean shook his head as he remembered some of those long winter days.
"He never really did that in the summer." Sam mused.
"In the summer, we had Pastor Jim and he'd let us run all over the place. In the winter, we couldn't go outside…" Dean could see his father's reasoning. "We would have driven Pastor Jim nuts if we'd been there in the winter."
"Dean?"
"Last year, this time? Liz and I were holed up in there and we were doing just fine. It was cold, so we spent a lot of time in bed. I disappeared on you for like… four days."
"So, you were in there the whole time?" Sam jerked his head backward toward the door behind them.
"Yeah." He took a deep breath. "And I felt really crappy when I left her… even though I wasn't sure that the next time I came through that… I feel crappy now."
"Oh yeah?"
"We're fighting about stupid stuff." He snorted and sipped the cooling coffee. "I'm serious… it's really stupid stuff but it's like we can't help it."
"It gets like that when you're learning how to live with someone." Sam admitted. "Jess and I had this really tough period after I moved in with her. Bills and groceries and chores. It was stupid stuff but we got over it."
"I feel like we're running out of time. We have to figure it out before the baby comes because I don't know if we'll fix it if he comes first."
"I guess that makes sense." Sam sighed heavily. "Why do you think you keep fighting?"
"I don't know but I think she's hiding something." The sigh came deep and heavy and right from his soul. They sat like that until the coffee had disappeared from Dean's cup and he'd long stopped feeling the cold.
"You want to ask Bobby if he'll put you up on his couch?"
Dean lifted his eyes to his brother and opened his mouth to answer when the door swung open between them. Liz stood there, her eyes red and her face swollen. "Dean, come inside before you make yourself sick. Sam, you're going to get sick too. You both have to work tomorrow."
Sam rose and watched them disappear behind the door. He wondered which way his brother would have answered.
December 4, 2010
Liz winced as Dean rubbed out a knot in her back. It was nearly two in the afternoon but neither of them had any thoughts of getting out of bed. It was too cold and there was nothing appealing in getting up if there was nothing to get up for. Dean pulled her back flush against his chest and nudged his way into the hollow of her neck. She giggled when his hand slipped up her belly, dragging her shirt with it. She held in a wince when the baby kicked her hard. Then he wouldn't stop. "He's doing maneuvers again."
"Maneuvers, huh." Dean bent over her form to fix his mouth to her belly. "Hey there. It's Saturday. Stand down. Mom is relaxing."
"Maybe he'll listen to you. He never listens to me." She slid her hand along his neck and into his hair. He lingered, scratching her belly with his beard. "Your hair is getting long."
"But you know it's sexy."
"Yes, it is."
He laid his ear against her belly and just listened. Then he heard the telltale rumblings that were not his son's doing. "Hungry?"
"Maybe."
The next half hour was quiet with its shuffling about, showering and cooking. Then Sam walked in with his big, stomping feet. "Good afternoon, Winchesters. I said afternoon cause it's only that for another couple of hours and then it's evening. We all thought you guys had finally killed each other or something."
It was meant as a joke but it put a damper on the day's good feelings. Dean dropped a sloppier than necessary sloppy joe in front of his brother and set the neater version at Liz's spot. He fixed his own while Liz combed out her hair, getting long again. They sat down to eat and ignored Sam's good humor.
"What are you guys going to do tonight?"
"12 has a… Monster Madness thing going on." Dean shrugged as he took a big bite of his sandwich.
"I'm in the middle of a book." Liz didn't bother glaring at Dean but the eye roll didn't escape Sam.
"You guys are such fogies. It's Saturday and you're going to sit inside all day and all night?" Sam pouted.
"It's winter… in South Dakota." Dean popped in a little Fargo while he poured hot chocolate for Liz and coffee for himself. "It's cold and she's very pregnant. Running around out there isn't anyone's idea of fun."
"But…" Sam sank down in his seat and picked at the loose meat falling from his sandwich. "You guys suck."
"Honestly, the only thing on my plate for the day was to seduce my wife and then you popped in… unannounced and now she's pissed off. Thanks." Dean got up to put his plate in the sink. He was glad he could at least make Liz smile, even if she had no intention to cave to his desires. They'd had this discussion. She was uncomfortable and so he wasn't getting any.
Sam averted his eyes and closed his mouth with a click. He picked up his plate and grabbed his jacket from the back of his chair. "Thanks for lunch. See you guys on Monday."
Liz held in her snicker until after Sam had shut the door behind him. She picked at her plate. She opened her mouth to ask about what he'd said to Sam but she couldn't get the question out. She swallowed down a lump. "How about I make us some popcorn for that Monster Madness thing?"
"Yeah, sure." Dean nodded and rinsed off her plate when she handed it to him. He went about picking up stray items from the floor and tossing them in their general places. Then he grabbed the body pillow off the bed and tossed it onto the low couch in front of their tiny TV. Liz brought the popcorn and the blanket. They took a moment to get comfortable before Dean clicked on the TV with his foot. After about ten minutes of silent munching, Dean reached back to the side table and handed Liz her book. She took it with a smile and a kiss to his neck. A half hour later, the bowl of popcorn was empty, Swamp Thing had taken out an army's worth of bad guys and they were both asleep.
December 6, 2010
Sam felt bad when he unfolded the newspaper print out for his brother. Liz was standing right there but this was what they did. They helped people who didn't know what was in the dark. "It's escalating."
Dean studied the article and filled in what his brother wasn't saying. "It's a woman in white."
"How can you tell?" Liz took the paper to look it over.
"It's the twelfth disappearance on that creek. All men. Half of them divorced." Dean answered before Sam could open his mouth. "I'm guessing some kids were fooling around out there and said they heard a woman singing a lullaby?"
"Yeah." Sam nodded and handed over another article. "11 years old. His friends said he was going to see her."
"La llorona." Liz whispered and handed the paper back. "A favorite ghost story where I'm from."
"It's never been just a story." The elder Winchester looked to his wife but didn't ask the question nor let his face do it for him.
"Suzanne Morris, 32, drowned her ten year old son last year. Said the devil made her do it in her suicide note. The day the divorce papers showed up, she walked into her pool and didn't come back out. The creek was a mile from her house. It's where her husband proposed. He's already married to the 25 year old he'd been having an affair with." Sam cleared his throat at the silence between the two of them. "It's a nine hour drive."
Liz met her husband's gaze and finally nodded. "You call me when you get there and you call me when you've taken care of it. If it's going to take longer than four days, you let me know."
"We'll be here for Christmas." Dean promised. Sam blinked at one then the other. Why did he always have to walk in on something? He gave his brother an apologetic look. Dean only cleared his throat. "Let's go make sure we're stocked up."
"I'm going to sit here for a while." Liz told him.
"I'll wait." He offered.
"I don't think I want to see the research on this one."
December 13, 2010
Dean snorted as he walked in. "Christmas threw up in here."
"Shut up." She swatted him with a pair of socks she was folding. "Get cleaned up. We're going to Betty Lou's parents' house for dinner."
"I just got here."
"And we're going." Liz smiled to herself when he immediately began shucking his dirty flannel and grabbed some of his things from the dresser to take a shower. She frowned when she saw the scratches on his chest. "Dean, what happened?"
"Woman in White. They never play fair." He gestured to the scrapes on his neck as well. "I'll heal."
"Oh." She nodded and fought off a wave of dizziness. "I'm gonna sit."
"You okay?"
"I didn't eat cause we're going to get stuffed." She reached across the table for a Christmas cookie. "I'll be fine. Get dressed." He nodded and disappeared into the bathroom. Liz shut her eyes tight as something flashed across her eyes. Skin and tongue. Shaking her head, it cleared but left a dull ache. Pinpoints of pain in her skull. Nails pulled against skin. Taking a deep breath, Liz forced it away. After a minute, she knew it was gone.
--
Liz accepted the gift with a gracious smile, then relaxed against Dean as everyone else opened their presents. Dean plucked the bag out of Liz's hands and examined the gift. Not for them, for him. A small blue jumper with John embroidered across the chest. It felt too small. Liz held out the matching shoes. His fingers wouldn't even fit in them.
Dean didn't say much to anyone else at the party. He didn't know these people, save for Stan and Betty Lou. The other guys from the garage weren't there, not that he wanted them there but… the estrogen level was pretty high. He just held the jumper in the flat of his hand. "John. W."
"Not too long now… out of my body." Liz laughed lowly into his chest. "I feel like I'm carrying a watermelon and two cantaloupes."
"Them some melons I like."
"Pervert."
"You really complaining?" He jerked his head to the door. "Let's go."
"Where?"
"Where do you think?"
"We don't want to be rude."
Dean stood and gathered their things into the little bags. "Um, hate to run but… um… we forgot the mistletoe at home."
"Dean!" Liz smacked him. She managed a blush when Betty Lou's aunt nudged her.
"Maybe you take some to go?" Her aunt cleared her throat… pointing to the mistletoe over the doorway.
"This isn't funny." Liz chided him but he was already helping her to her feet.
"Thanks for the… baby clothes." Dean ushered her to where Kyle already had her jacket ready. "And the punch. Yummy."
December 29, 2010
Liz found the note on his pillow. She read it aloud. "We'll be right back. Salt and burn three towns over. Favor for one of Marty's friends."
She laughed to herself and ignored the stiffness in her bones as she tried to get comfortable again. She had the next month off. Forbidden by absolutely everyone to work or lift anything heavier than a Big Mac. She felt something crinkle under her pillow. She pulled out a slip of paper. "Get up and eat something, will ya?"
--
Sam pulled the car into the drive-in restaurant. He rattled off their order as he shuffled through newspaper clippings beside him. Dean had clipped a huge amount on the ride over and none of them were for the job at hand. "Where are these from?"
"Missouri, Nevada, New Hampshire and Georgia."
"How did you get all these?"
"Had Marty tell a few guys what to look out for… these are what came up." Dean picked up one that had hit close to home. Fire killed the parents of a pair of kids. "This could have been us."
"What's going to happen to them?"
"The state if there's no other family alive." He set it down. He was damn lucky to have had his dad. "We gotta get this demon, Sam."
"I know."
"Been looking up the signs that Dad followed… the ones that lead us to Rosie."
"Rosie?"
"Rosie. Baby Rosie… almost became a freak like you." He reminded his brother. "Almost lost her mother like us."
"Right… Rosie." Sam nodded to himself. "So… is this stuff happening again?"
"Hard to tell. From what I can figure… If we catch on pretty quick… we'll still only have a week to get there and figure out who and where and stop it from happening again." He took a deep breath and stared around at the little town they'd landed in. "We need to take care of this first. Then I'll go checking around for this stuff."
--
Liz couldn't stop the vision from playing over and over in her mind. Electricity ran up and down her arms. As the night grew darker, she lit up the room even brighter. Suddenly, she stilled.
Green energy faded and died down. A flick of her hand lit the lamp in the corner. Slowly her body moved to the table. Pen and paper in her hands as the images floated before her eyes.
Her fingers bent quickly. The pen flowed evenly as if in practiced strokes. Page after page of writings, drawings with labels. Silently, she placed the notebook in the nightstand then sat to write a note. Nine sentences. Liz folded the note and slipped it into the back of John's journal. She closed the flap and set it back on Dean's gunny sack by the closet.
She sat down, rubbed her belly, then woke up. Confused and oddly calm, she got ready for bed. She barely made it to the pillow before she fell into a fitful sleep.
--
"Motherfucker!" Dean cursed loudly and dropped his shotgun into his lap. He yanked off his ring and shoved it into his pocket. He barely had time to lift it and shoot before the specter had reappeared. So much easier to shoot without the ring getting in the way. It was too cold and too inconvenient just now. "Sam!"
"I'm still digging!"
"Keep it up. I need more shells."
"Check my jacket!"
--
Liz woke in total darkness, feeling the most alone she had ever felt in her life. Much the empty way she had felt when Max had died the first time. Panicked, she fumbled for her phone and dialed. She held her breath while it rang.
"Babe, I know I'm late checking in but you've got the worst timing. Let me kick some Casper ass and I'll be home tonight." He managed a laugh though the screams and shots that traveled over the line told a tale of high tension.
"But you're okay?"
"So far. I really gotta focus now." Click.
He was okay. He was alive. Still, the panic would not subside. Rising, she decided to eat something to settle her stomach. To let her body in on the clue that everything was really all right. Cleaning up after Dean's morning dash out the door, she waited patiently for leftover stew to reheat on the stove. Flashes of light crossed her vision. Vainly, she tried to blink them away. Eventually, her vision forced her to the ground on her hands and knees. She wailed but she couldn't make them go away as the light turned into visions of something she never wanted to see.
The moans. Grunts as skin slid against skin. The slap of hips meeting hips.
"Stop it." Liz gripped her head but there was no pain, save for the feeling of her soul hemorrhaging. "Stop."
Her eyes were brown but darker. Black in the dark, but hazel in the light. Brown under the light of the lamp. Her dark hair splayed on the pillow.
She sobbed as she fought against them. Then she gave up and just let them played before her eyes. She watched it all.
--
Dean walked into the cottage to find Liz staring off into space while something bubbled on the stove. It smelled overcooked. "I think it's done."
When she didn't respond, he removed the stew-like substance off the burner. He watched her bite her lip and look to him with tear-filled eyes. "I can't do this anymore."
"Liz?"
"I can't. I need you to leave and stay gone."
"Pardon me?" He blinked at her, panic rising in his throat. "What's all this about?"
"I can't be with you. If you and I are not in love and this arrangement is not working... We have to stop it now." She wouldn't meet his eyes.
"I don't understand. When did you decide this? We just talked three hours ago and you didn't say anything about breaking up."
"When you're married, it's called a divorce." She finally met his eyes. "I don't think we should hold each other back anymore."
That was it. That look. Dean nodded and picked up his bag. He didn't look back until he got to the door. He wanted to say something, anything but he couldn't and still have the strength to leave. He set his jaw and left. Tossing his bag into the Impala, he thought about going to Bobby's but he didn't want to hear about how he'd fucked things up. He'd go to Marty's but there was too much there. Too many people who had known it wasn't going to work and too many people who would be asking questions. Climbing into the Impala, he just needed to get out of Valor Springs. He didn't even bother to get Sam, he needed to be by himself.
--
Twenty minutes after she'd heard the roar of the Impala leave the salvage yard, they had returned. She didn't have the strength to fight them. So she let them play until they stopped. Let them tear her heart to shreds. Seeing his smile aimed at someone that wasn't her. Watching his mouth do things to that woman that he hadn't done with her in a long time. Watching that look on his face while he was with someone else. Liz prayed that once they stopped, they would never cross her mind's eye again.
--
Rutherford. The closest thing to civilization. Dean had let the road calm him some. Still, he was wound tight. Dropping onto a stool in a random bar, he focused on nothing but the burn of alcohol. She ordered her drink as she took her seat. It wasn't until she'd had a sip or two that she noticed him. He felt her appraising eyes drift from his face to his body and down to his greasy fingers curled around his glass. "You're not from here."
"Valor Springs." Dean bit out but didn't turn his head.
"They don't have a bar in Valor Springs?"
"Sure, they do but I don't get to go in." He looked up and wished he hadn't. She was gorgeous. All brown eyes and dark hair and full lips.
"Serena." She held her hand out to him.
"Dean."
"You're a mechanic." She tilted his hand up to expose the dirty fingernails and the faint outline of a wedding ring.
"Among other things." Her smile was too relaxed. He had to look away. "I'll bet you're a nurse or something."
"Actually, yeah… for now." She sipped her drink. "I'm paying my way through medical school."
"College girl, huh."
"What? I can't talk to you because I went to college?"
"Talk away. I'm just having a drink."
So she kept talking. He listened with limited commentary. He didn't move her hand when it landed on his knee. And he didn't stop her hand from sliding up his thigh. He was tempted to see how far she would take it. He was so sexually frustrated that he thought he might pop. Her hand slid to the inside of his thigh as her lips brushed against his ear, whispering that her place was not that far.
Dean considered her words as he finished his drink. If he followed her, he knew what would happen. That involved writhing and panting and the bliss of orgasm with a perfect stranger… something he hadn't done in a couple of years. If he refused, she'd leave him there and he'd probably have another beer and start a brawl on his way out. Her hand wrapped around his bicep and Dean found himself following her out to the parking lot.
TBC
