One of the things that I have noticed about Supernatural over the years is, via their introducing so many characters, you never know who the popular ones are going to be. Some the fans tolerate, some the fans hate, and some the fans get really attached to. That makes it hard to predict who to make recurring cast and just how much screen time they should even get. I mean, who in the writing staff could have known that Adam was going to become such a huge deal to the show despite only being in literally four episodes?
Something that would help though is realizing when you have most of the Heavenly Host being dicks but a few of them are alright, even kind, that they're going to resonate with the audience. Characters like Inias and Samandriel are good examples of that, and a few more angels on the side of the boys, or at least not directly interfering with them could have been really interesting. Also might have helped if they'd stopped killing every single person the boys cared about too.
Chapter 26: Loose Ends and Knots
Fingers trailed over the plastic of the keyboard, but Kevin found it hard to write anything. The teen had always been most comfortable when he was on a schedule, working hard and trying to keep ahead of the several other gifted students his age that were all studying in order to place in good colleges to keep their live on the right track. Well, comfortable might not have been the right word. He had always been on the nervous side, about one bad event from melting down, but it kept him productive. The student had long since learned how to ride that line between unproductive worrying and working yourself to the bone. It helped that he had timers and alarms to keep him on track, though his mother had insisted he also add notifications on his computer to tell him when to get to sleep and eat.
He supposed it had been fair considering she'd once come upstairs to bring him down for breakfast only to see him still hunched over his desk, scribbling frantically at an essay due the next week that had kept him up all night to make completely perfect.
Kevin could admit he might overwork at times, but his life was important to him. It was the only one he had, and he was determined to make sure he made the most out of it. Sleeping and eating, well logically they were necessary but they were also really good at chewing up time he could be working.
Though, he should be working now. He knew he should be, but he was feeling distracted. He'd been home for a short while now, a few days. Once the angels had deemed it safe enough for the family to move back home they'd brought them back, Inias meeting them there with a soft smile and assuring them the whole place had been cleaned of the remains of the battle.
Honestly, the way he'd talked about it so reassuringly, like a maid promising his mom that all the trash bins had been emptied, it was kind of creepy.
The whole thing was creepy actually, just how… cleanly it had all been taken care of. Kevin had been away from school for an age, had blown his test, had been legally declared kidnapped and now it was like none of it had ever even happened.
Literally. The angels had apparently gone to the effort to wipe the minds of everyone involved in the incident, and by everyone the investigators, his friends, teachers, and everyone in between. Poof, memories just gone like a video game reset or something. He'd idly wondered if most of the country hadn't been stoned on chemically altered food, and more citizens had actually noticed the news reports of him missing, if the angels couldn't have just rebooted the memories of everyone in the United States.
He had made sure not to mention that possibility. He didn't think he could have handled it if Inias did arrange that, all with that same gentle and kind smile. Man, this whole thing was so weird.
Kevin knew he should be grateful. It had looked like his whole life had been ripped out of his hands only to be given back to him. Even the test he'd missed had been taken care of. Of course, originally Inias just told him they would put the grade in for him, but Kevin felt like that was too much like cheating, and so had insisted on at least being able to take the test on his own, get graded and then have that put in.
For that, he'd been told honesty was a good trait in a prophet and he should be proud of himself. Kevin had wanted to bury his head into something and scream because this was all just way too much for him.
At the very least his mom seemed to be on board. According to her, Prophet of the Lord was a nice title, important, even if it couldn't exactly be put on a business card. She'd always been pretty proud about her son, how he'd amount to something, supporting him and pushing him to be the best he could be while acting understanding and assuring him anything he did was more than enough to make her proud.
He wished he could be as calm about this. Though, who knew? Maybe his mom was freaking out about almost getting kidnapped, their plumber actually having been some kind of water manipulator, and all of Heaven suddenly wanting him to worry about transcribing the Word of God, and she just was keeping a lid on it for his sake.
"How am I supposed to do this?" he groaned out.
"Do you require a book for your studies?"
"OH JEEZ!" Kevin cried out, flailing so hard he sent the stack of his homework flying up into the air. He spun around to see among the fluttering papers slowly falling to the ground was Inias, leader of the garrison assigned to protect him. He patted his chest, trying to get his heart to stop being so fast. "What are you doing here?"
"I came to check up on you," the angel explained. "You see, there was a recent fire in your neighborhood and we-"
"What? The one on the news this morning? You came over for that?" he asked, frowning. "That was seven blocks away."
"Well yes, but we were concerned. We wanted to investigate and make sure it wasn't demonic influence."
"Uh huh. And was it?" the boy asked.
Inias, to his credit, fidgeted for a bit. He had a distinct look of being uncomfortable in his own body, which Kevin supposed might be normal for angels.
"No. It seemed it was something called a… hair curler?" the angel admitted.
"Well, good to know, but I need to get back to work," Kevin informed him before sighing, "… or get started on it."
"You seem distressed, Kevin. I assure you, while the garrison is not on the level on the archangels who used to be tasked with protecting the line of prophets, we will do everything we can to keep you safe. If there's anything we can do for you, all you need is to ask."
"Right now, all I need to do is work. This math theory isn't going to write itself. Look, just… I know you're trying to be useful but… just… can you knock next time, on the front door of the house? I can't survive you popping up every time you like. My heart can't take it."
"Actually your heart is in perfect physical condition. However, your mental-"
Kevin hit his head on the desk in defeat, but luckily the angel took it as his cue to leave.
#-#
Inias hesitated at the door, wondering if this was the right thing to do. Like all his brothers and sisters, the angel had been created to follow orders. The word, the law, the meaning, it was ingrained into him like all of his kin, to do as they were told by their Father. In His place, Michael had spoken, a strong leader who had stood tall and firm in his faith. He'd been sure of every rule and the reasons behind it, giving a path for them all to follow.
Now there was no Father, no Michael, and no path. There was free will, for beings who had been literally created to never think for themselves. It had made the transition difficult for all of them, and Inias had certainly not been created to lead. He was supposed to follow, but now had a new role to fulfill for the rest of the garrison. It didn't seem there was anyone else to do it however, their numbers once in the hundred and now… now literally only a few above a dozen.
The garrison, like the rest of Heaven, had little luck lately. The superior Anna had left them, and with the power struggle that had erupted between Castiel and Uriel, only for the later to turn traitor. Then Hester's rage getting her killed…
Inias never would have thought command would have fallen to him, and he honestly had no idea what to do with it. So, he followed orders, the only orders he knew. Michael had once decreed in his and Raphael's absence, if they were to ever be gone, it fell to them to protect the line of prophets. The orders had never made sense to him. How could they be lost? He hadn't dared to ask though, Michael very good at discouraging questions with nothing but his mere presence.
Clearly the instructions had been for a reason however, because both the archangels were lost to them, and even before then Gabriel had vanished and Lucifer's betrayal had caused him to be cast out. So many angels had been lost these last few years, and it was unnerving all the surviving ones into rasher and rasher actions, which ironically was only proving more dangerous. It felt like Heaven was a rock out in the middle of the waters, slowly eroding with every wave crashing into it. Inias had to do more, had to think of a solution, more than just doing what he was told. Initiative was called for, but at the same time boldness was dangerous, so he knew he had to move forward in some way but had no idea what steps he should take. He was best with structure, so he would just have to hold out and do the best he could until answers came to him.
Which is why he was outside this house, with stone steps and painted a dark blue with white trimming. He would have just appeared inside, but apparently knocking was important? Maybe to announce his presence, an odd concept considering he felt the locations his siblings almost constantly.
His knuckles rapped on the door, waiting outside patiently. He already knew the one he was looking for was inside, but maybe waiting for her to come to the door was part of this ritual?
Sure enough it opened a few moments later and he found himself face-to-face with Daphne Allen.
"Inias..." she breathed, sounding more than a little confused at the sight of him.
"Hello, Daphne. Is… is this a bad time?" he asked, not wishing to intrude on someone twice in one day. It was twilight now. She might be wanting to sleep, another concept he'd never had to worry about before.
"Oh, no. No, of course not. Please, come in," she replied as she moved aside to allow him entrance. He nodded to her before walking inside of her home. "Do you have news about Castiel?"
He had not seen her since they had taken Kevin back to his house, delivering her home as well. They had not parted on the best of circumstances, the angels breaking the news to her that in the battle against the Leviathans Castiel seemed to have disappeared, and once again they no longer had any idea where he was. She hadn't wanted to believe them at first, demanding the truth, but with no answers to give her, they'd had little choice but to take her home and leave her to her mourning.
True enough, the wife of the angel did not seem as if she was in the best health, her face a little drawn and tired. She looked even worse than when she had taken refuge with them in the desert. He couldn't help but feel he was intruding, no matter what she said on the matter.
"I'm afraid there's been no word on it. It's as if he just vanished," he admitted. "We would think that he died, except Dean Winchester is gone as well. If he'd perished then he would be within Heaven's walls. It's led us to think something might have gone wrong. Others are looking into it."
"Others? You mean other angels?" she asked.
He didn't answer immediately. She had helped them, but he wasn't really at liberty to talk about the state of Heaven with an outsider. On the other hand, who was really there anymore to punish rules broken?
"Things are not well. My brothers and sisters are starting to fracture, splitting into groups and fighting among each other, bickering over where it was best to go from here," he admitted. "Some are wanting to look into where Castiel might have gone off to, others feel it's best to leave him to his fate. He hasn't been the most stable lately, and there are still others who feel this is all still in our Father's plan. No one really seems to know what to do now."
"I thought you were leading the angels?" she asked him, but he only shook his head.
"Only my garrison. There are many soldiers in God's army, and even more involved in matters that didn't include battle," he said. "Though I admit, Castiel isn't why I came here today. I am… confused, I think is the best way to say it. I needed to talk to someone, someone who isn't an angel, and as strange as this might sound all I could think of was you."
Daphne gave him an odd look, one that he couldn't put his finger on. It seemed between confusion and maybe honest compassion.
"It sounds like things have been hard for you," she said, her words full of worry despite her own tired look. "Would you like to sit down for a while? I can get you something to drink?"
"Oh, I don't really drink," he admitted. "Thank you. I will take you on that offer to sit with you though."
He followed her to the kitchen where she got herself some water. Though he'd rejected it, she still put a glass down in front of him with a pitcher of water just in case he changed his mind. Instead, he launched into the story of his most recent trip to Kevin Tran, how he had come to look in on him and how it had made the human seem so unhappy, how he didn't know what he was really doing, and was still getting used to the idea of being in charge of anyone, himself included.
"Okay," she said when he was finished. She paused for a second before drinking a sip of water, as if taking the time to think over what she wanted to say. "May I ask you a couple of questions?"
"Of course. Please go ahead," he told her, willing to help her understand his perspective if it could help him as well.
"Did you honestly think it might have been a demon that started a fire so far away from his home or was it merely an excuse to check up on him?"
"It was a bit of both," he admitted. "I'm nowhere near the power of an archangel, the old protectors of the prophets. Their gaze was much longer, able to tell immediately when the prophet was threatened, and came down to Earth in mere seconds to shield them. Mortal, demon, anything that might cut the life short, they were able to react to it. Once touched down, I was able to tell there was no trace of a demon at the sight of the fire, but it still seemed a good idea to try and look in on him anyway. His reaction was less than receptive though."
"Alright. That's fair. Second question. Why did you do it yourself?"
That one caught Inias off guard. He wasn't even sure what to make of that.
"I don't... think I understand the question."
"Well, you're the leader of the garrison now. You're in charge of several different angels. Why did you come down yourself instead of sending one of them?"
"I… It feels like I should be the one to..." he said, before trailing off. He wasn't sure he really had an answer for her.
"It seems to me that you've taken up a position of leader without knowing exactly how to do that," she surmised. "You're relying on how you used to act, following a path that was laid out for you. Understandable, since that was the most comfortable for you. It's what you've been doing since your creation, isn't it?"
"It is," he admitted. "Then you feel I shouldn't have taken the position?"
"No, I don't mean that. I mean… Well, look at what you said about the other angels fighting, about Castiel learning what free will means, it's all connected. I'll admit, I don't know much about your kind, but as I understand it you were created to obey, right? Well, that might be the problem. Now that you've been left to your own devices, you're all making your own decisions, but you're so powerful. The things you can do, it rivals some of the greatest forces on this planet. Everyone makes mistakes. It's how you learn. However when mortals make their mistakes, it's relatively minor, when they're children still learning the difference between right and wrong. On the other hand angels, your powers are capable of healing great wounds, but you're just as capable of causing them. The devastation you can cause… what Castiel did... The Fates told me he was the one to release the Leviathans in an attempt to win a civil war in Heaven. He almost doomed everyone on this planet, all because he didn't know the danger of his actions."
She reached out for his hand, laying her own on his.
"It seems to me that you're facing the same difficulty now. You're in a position you have no previous experience in, so you're falling back on what you're comfortable with, the old role of a soldier that followed orders, to watch the prophet. You have nothing else now, something yourself admitted to when we first spoke. You're faced with the choice of staying what you are or moving forward and making mistakes you don't know if you can fix in your new position of freedom and responsibility."
"Things were so much easier when we had a plan, when orders came to us from our Father. Even via Michael, we knew such orders came from Him, that he spoke with His word. It was much more stable that way. Now Michael is gone, and we are left with orders I never honestly thought would come to pass, to take his place in this duty."
"Do you think the fact your received orders in case something happened to him is proof that this was your god's plan all along?" Daphne asked, but Inias only sighed softly and shook his head.
"No. I don't… I don't believe that," he confessed. "There were many contingency orders, some that came true, some that didn't. If there was a plan it's long since in flames. Besides, I'd never want to think that this horrible fate is what He thought up for us. No, Father is gone and many think that He has no intention to come back. It's why Castiel took up the war in the first place, to show us the benefits of free will. The whole garrison followed him into it, Hester and I, all of us. We believed in him, but I think it might have just been another figure to put our obedience behind. Orders are right, just, and they-"
"They make it the fault of someone else if things go wrong," she mused.
He watched her fingers as they traced gently over the back of his hand and looked up to see her smiling kindly at him.
"It's easy for gods to move with confidence, Inias. They don't face the same fears we do, the same doubts," she told him. "They're so sure of everything, and we trust them to show us the way. I don't know your god, and I don't know why he left all of you, but I do know that they are just as capable of mistakes, at least some of them are, they just don't worry the same way. There's no shame in moving carefully until you are more confident, but you can also rely on others for help as well. If you're not comfortable only leading, then allow yourself to ask for opinions, advice. Show you're willing to listen, that the others are allowed to think for themselves to offer council and help you come to your answers. Perhaps it's not what all of you are used to, but by looking at your problems from multiple angles you have a better chance to think things through and avoid mistakes."
"Is that why you did as the Fates asked? Why you helped save Kevin, because of Atropos?"
"I… I think they have something in mind for what is supposed to come next, and while they aren't known for being the kindest to the ones they give their prophecies to, I think they have something a plan to do good. Though they did play on my desire to help others to getting me to agree, but I would have no matter what I think. I can only hope what they are working on ends well."
"Mmm, I admit it would be nice to have a vision of what is to come," he admitted.
"Have you considered consulting them? They might have answers for you."
"No. I don't think that would do me any good. When my Father commissioned Atropos to help shape the destiny of what was supposed to happen via the apocalypse and then it failed to occur, neither side treated her very kindly when she came to Heaven afterward. I doubt she'd be willing to help me."
"She can be very slow to forgive. Even as someone willing to serve the Fates, I have to admit she does give off an aura of someone that can hold onto a grudge," she agreed. "It might still be worth asking though, at the very least if following some predetermined path does feel easier for you, no matter what side of the war you were on for free will. Not a grand destiny, but a hint or two maybe."
Inias was silent for a moment, contemplating her advice before he gave a little nod. It was at least worth thinking about, even if he didn't go through with it.
"As for Kevin, why don't you allow me to help you there?" she suggested.
"What do you mean?" he asked her.
"Well, I have much more experience in dealing with mortals than you do," she explained to him. "It seems he might not be comfortable with you because of what you are or maybe because you aren't used to the intricacies of his kind yet. He is approaching college soon, correct? Why don't we set me up with a job to the school he eventually goes to. I could work as a teaching assistant there and call you if there is any trouble. That way he's watched over, and you have the freedom to get used to your new role and what it means for you."
"Why would you do that for us?" he asked. He couldn't think of a reason she would offer him such a kindness, especially after the fate of her husband.
"Like I said, we trust in the gods to guide us. Guide us, not give us all the answers. One of the divine rules that was giving in my homeland is called xenia. Have you ever heard of it?"
"I'm not well versed in the philosophy of the lesser gods," he admitted before he caught a look from her, her kind features morphing into a bit of a glare. "Ah… excuse me, other gods."
"Thank you," she said. "I may have left my home a long time ago to flee certain gods, and my opinion of some of my pantheon is perhaps not as complimentary as it should be, but I'll thank you not to do that again. I wouldn't call your god lesser to your face. We can keep those opinions to ourselves for the sake of politeness."
He didn't want to offend her, so he supposed that was a good compromise, and he could see where she was coming from. Just the implication she might think her gods were above Him crawled very uncomfortably in his gut. That was something to tread carefully around. He wasn't a wrathful angel, but he still found it offensive beyond belief. Many angels with worse tempers would have smote her just for saying that.
"Ironically, we just stumbled a bit on that," she admitted. "Xenia is one of the laws and guidelines given to us. Sacred hospitality. When a guest comes to your door, you're expected to treat them well. Give them what they need, food or shelter, and if it's a traveler, help them prepare for the next leg of their journey. They in turn are supposed to be good to the host, not overstay their welcome or take advantage of the kindness. You're a traveler on a journey, Inias, not a physical one but a spiritual one it would seem. By coming to me, you've asked me to help, and I will offer what I can in order to do so. Besides, even if it wasn't a rule I would do so. I believe that in some things we have to be willing to help each other instead of just relying on gods to fix everything. I was put on Castiel's path to pull him out of the water and save him. I… I don't know if he's safe now, but I can help you instead. I'd like to, if you'd allow me."
His fingers slowly entwined with hers, feeling her cool skin underneath of his own. She felt like a babbling brook against him, calm gentle and soothing, but also like a raging river when angers, giving him more understanding of the complexities of her. He felt like she was offering to carry him down somewhere new, to see where the current could lead. As his gaze rose and he met her eyes, he nodded his head in acceptance, and thus an alliance between an angel and nymph was made.
#-#
"Stop tugging at it."
"It itches."
"I mean it, stop it."
"Are all dresses this uncomfortable? I swear, the only good thing about this is the garter belt I can keep my knife in."
"Yeah, well we're not here to stab anyone, so keep it under your skirt."
"Uncle, we both know you and Father were always prepped to stab someone if you had to."
Sam had to admit, his niece had a very good point, but that didn't stop him from smacking at her hand when she tugged again at the fabric of her pink dress, strapless and with a skirt hanging down to her knees. It probably wasn't the best fitted around her, but he'd only guessed her size and grabbed it at a thrift store and told her to put it on. With that and the fact the girl had never worn anything but pants and shorts before, he supposed it made sense that she wasn't used to it. Still, not like she was at the age where she could look convincing in a pantsuit. Besides, from the look of all the other females milling around in different shades and cuts in dresses, putting Emma into something a bit fancy was the best course of action.
It was why he was currently in his suit, though it felt a bit shabby against the obviously tailor-cut suits made to perfectly fit the other men around here. He hadn't even had time to iron his own lately, and it felt a bit wrinkly. Still, no one had yet to come and kick them out for not owning mink coats or in offense of the plastic beaded bracelets Emma was currently wearing to hide her wrists' marks. This was the kind of place where real diamonds and silk from other countries where the norm. He wanted to stand out as little as possible until he found who he was looking for.
The name of Daniel Blake Auction and Estate was one that he hadn't thought about in years. The business that collected artwork and sold it to various interested parties, all of them fancy and very well off. The last time he'd been there he'd still be fresh out of college, still floundering in the role of hunting that he'd found himself in again, and he'd met her. Sarah Blake, a girl who had captured his interest despite wanting it, who had been strong and firm and charming and witty in the best ways. The attraction between them had been fierce, but also had felt comfortable and safe when Sam had stopped fighting it. He remembered years ago thinking about someday going back to her and seeing where it could go, only then he'd found out about the Colt, lost his father and things like romance had been…
It was years ago now, and it had been over before it had even started, but this made it all come flooding back to him.
The plan had been to go find her at the shop, to pull her aside and ask her some questions to see if she knew anything. It was easier than a false investigation since she already was in the know, but when he'd went there only a note hung on the door, informing him that the place would be closed for the next week in mourning and in preparation for the charity auction planned for the benefit of the young students that had lost their lives. It cemented in his mind that the estate and auction business had to have had something to do with what was going on, involved in some way, and he needed to speak with Sarah soon. However he'd long since lost her personal number, if it was even still the same after all of this time, and he'd decided to simply go to the charity event instead, hence the grabbing the dress for Emma and arriving right as it had started, slipping a hundred dollar bill to the one checking the list for guest names in order to get inside.
"You alright?" he asked as he glanced a look at Emma, up against the wall and sipping at a drink.
"Eh, this is more people than I'd like, but I'm not feeling tense or anything," she admitted to him. "I think it's more crowds where I can't move easily. People just milling around is just a bit off putting at worst."
"Good."
"So, are you alright?"
He was confused by the question and looked down at her as she sipped her drink again and then looked up to meet his gaze.
"You've been acting weird since before we arrived, since the last hotel really," she explained. "Tense and kind of agitated. Is everything okay?"
Sam couldn't help but notice she'd been making comments along those lines a lot lately. He hoped sincerely this didn't have to do with the wanting to protect him thing. He was responsible for her, not the other way around. He wished she would get that.
"I'm fine. Just… worked a case here once and I think an old friend might be involved in this one. It's been a while since I've seen her is all," he told Emma.
"Her?" she asked, and damn if her tone didn't sound curious in all the wrong ways, sounding a little bit too interested and like Dean for him to be entirely comfortable with her piqued wondering at the pronoun in question.
"It's nothing like that," he lied. Well, was it really a lie? It had been years since they'd seen one another, and it had only been a kiss… well, a kiss followed up by so much sexual tension between the two he'd felt like that alone had made his brain short-circuit.
Sam was realistic. He was too into the life now to ever really think there would be any kind of out for him, not now. Even if Emma had picked normal, they both still would have known about the ghosts and vampires and furry creatures with too many teeth. At best, Sam would just ignored it and hoped some other hunter got to the stories found in the papers instead of him. That wasn't really being out of the life, not really, just disregarding it. Still, there was a small part of him, a part that he was sure would always be there, that would hope, that would want.
It was hard not to think of Sarah after so many so many years and feel a flicker or hope again, even when he told himself that it was a foolish thought.
At least, that's what he should have been telling himself, but when movement caught his eye in the crowd and he saw her again, he felt it warm up inside of him despite his common sense fighting it. He walked off without a word to Emma, leaving her to follow along if she wanted to, gently pushing past the various people to reach Sarah, talking to a few people with her hair bundled up in a black dress that hugged her frame. It was if she sensed him, turning around slowly to face Sam Winchester for the first time in ages.
The expression on her face told him immediately she didn't need to introduce himself again, that she remembered him. The surprise in her eyes let him know the memories were still as clear for her as they were for him.
"Sam," she breathed softly and he felt himself smiling gently at her.
"Hey, Sarah," he replied. "I'm sorry it took so long to come back."
For a second she stalled, before smiling too and laughing a little.
"Oh… wow. All this time and that's what you say to me?" she asked, putting her hand to her mouth and giggling. "Still as smooth as ever, I see."
"Oh, ah, well you see..."
"Sam, it's fine. It's nice to see you again," she replied with a kind smile. "It's been too long. I wondered forever if this day was going to come. I guess I just couldn't help but tease a little."
"Uh, Uncle?" Emma asked from just besides him, giving the two a look with an arched eyebrow. "I thought we were here to work?"
"Uncle?" Sarah asked as she looked at Emma. "Sam, who is this?"
"Oh, this is Emma," he said with a cough, not liking the way the teen was currently giving him a very scrutinizing look. "Why don't you go get us a couple more glasses of champagne?"
She wasn't really old enough to drink, but the last time a waiter had passed by she'd grabbed a glass for herself and glared at the guy until he'd just walked away. No doubt about it, New York was definitely not helping her destress at all. He couldn't really scold her on it, considering the toasting incident that had already happened for the two of them back at the cabin.
Emma looked for a second like she was about to argue before she shrugged her shoulders and walked off, giving them some privacy.
"Do you have some time to sit down and talk?" he asked before looking around the silent auction, most people just walking about to look at various art pieces, write bids or talk to others. "I'd hate to say it, but I didn't just drop by for a visit."
"Of course," she said as she went to sit down with him at a smaller table tucked near a corner. "I suppose it was silly to think for a second it was just coincidence that you were here."
"Yeah. I'm sorry, but no," he said. "I saw in the newspaper about the murder-suicide. When I saw your dad's business was involved, I had to come look in on it."
She frowned a little and nodded her head in understanding.
"That makes sense. Justin was a sweet kid. For something so horrible to happen… Do you think it could have involved… you know, your work?" she asked him softly.
"I don't know. I didn't even know the name of any of the kids in the fire until just now," he admitted. What was he supposed to say, he saw the shop mentioned in the paper and had booked it here without a second thought? She'd probably understand but it seemed dumb to say it out loud. "This charity event, this is for them, right?"
"Yeah, to help the families pay for funeral expenses and the like," she explained to him.
"So you knew them?"
"Some of them, but only in passing. The police actually came to talk to us about it. Justin was the one who started the fire, and he'd been working for Dad for about about a year as a volunteer. It was for college credits but even after he finished the required hours he kept coming. He really liked it here, said it was his home away from home," she informed him. "A few weeks ago he was upset, turned out his parents had told him they were divorcing, It destroyed him… but to know he hurt those other kids. They were his friends, would sometimes come by while he was working..."
"So it wasn't in his character?" Sam asked.
"No, of course not. He was upset but he'd never..." she breathed before covering her mouth with her hand for a second, taking a shaky breath. "It's why I organized this for him and the others. I wanted to believe it was some mistake, and help in some way but it's just so… You think something got to him?"
It was possible, but for a second Sam wasn't thinking on the case, instead looking at her hand where a simple gold wedding band was resting on her ring finger. Something in him sank, a faint feeling of disappointment before he firmly set himself to ignore it. He was on the job right now, and it had been nearly a decade since he'd even seen her. He had no right to even consider being upset over the fact she'd clearly met someone else over all the years he'd been away.
He'd never asked her to wait for him, and he'd certainly moved on with other women too. Still, the sting of something settled in his heart, and he decided suddenly he didn't want to talk about something that was clearly going to upset her.
"Look, this probably isn't the best time for you," he said, trying to sound soothing, something that wasn't as hard as he feared it would be. True, there had been a flicker of hope, but it was now dying before it could have the chance to grow into something bigger. He'd survive. "We're not in a private place where we can even discuss all of this in detail without the risk of someone overhearing, and I shouldn't be crashing your auction to upset you. You knowing the victim has to be bad enough without thinking about it possibly being a hunt too. Why don't I come by tomorrow and talk to you about this then?"
"So just catch up tonight and then work in the morning?"
"Unless you really want to unpack all of this tonight?"
"No, no probably for the best. I cared deeply for Justin. I can guarantee you I won't be able to talk about him tonight without getting a little blubbery," she confessed. "Give me some time to get used to the shock of you being in town again first, and I'll probably be able to be a lot more helpful to you later on."
"Of course. Whatever you need," he said before indicating the ring. "So I see you got married, huh?"
"Oh, yes," she said as her lips tugged upward as she traced a finger over the metal with her opposite hand. "His name is Ian. He's actually in the back helping things get moved around for the shipments after the sales. Never been very good with the schmoozing part of this business like Dad has been."
"Is he into art too?"
"No, no. He's search and rescue. Likes to save people. I guess you could say I had a type," she confessed to him. "What about you? A niece in tow, and she definitely looks old enough to have been around when I last saw you."
"Oh, you have no idea," he said, not willing to get into that whole history. Lots of people were going to assume Emma had been around somewhere long before she had even existed. It would be much easier not to bother correcting anyone on that. "I'm training her how to hunt."
"You and Dean?"
"No," Sam replied after a moment. "No, just me."
She seemed to understand immediately what the reply meant, regret coloring her face the second the words left him.
"Oh, Sam. I am so sorry," she breathed.
"Thank you," he replied sincerely. He was nowhere near the stage where he could say it was alright, or that he'd be fine. He was still reeling from it, and Sarah was too smart for him to even think about lying to. If he said anything else she would be able to tell it was false. Why even hide the fact it was hurting? "It's still a recent loss. I've been trying to hold it together but..."
"I understand. Trust me, I get it. That kind of thing is never easy," she said. "He was a good man."
He was certainly inclined to agree with her, and wished Dean was still around to hear that. Of everything that had happened, his brother's opinion on that fact had long since been slipping. Granted, Sarah had known Dean when he was much younger, pulling things like pretending to lose his wallet just to get the two of them to talk and generally very lighthearted. It's not like he could really tell her everything that had happened to the Winchesters over the years. Even for someone who knew about ghosts, it would still be pretty unbelievable. Also, there was just no reason to burden her with such dour things.
The clicking of heels alerted him to Emma's approach, a drink in each hand.
"I'd hate to run, but it's getting close to time for the auction cards to be collected the winners to be announced, then the speeches are going to be delivered. A couple of the families are here too, so I need to see to them before all of this starts," Sarah said as she stood. "Come by the shop at noon. I'll be around and do anything I can to help. It was nice to see you again, and meeting you, Emma."
She gave a little nod before walking off, and Emma took her seat in her place, handing Sam a glass.
"A friend, huh?"
"Drop it," Sam replied in warning, but he had a feeling she would be as willing to let it lie as Dean once had been, that is to say, not at all. True enough, she was giving him a look as if silently asking him if she had ever been known to drop anything when she was told to. "She's an old friend, nothing more. She could have possibly been something if things worked out differently, but it didn't so nothing ever happened. Also, she's married. So drop it."
"Right. Okay, so that's a bit of a bummer. It is why you were so tense then?" she guessed. "Did you think that-"
"Emma," he said firmly. "Drop. It."
She opened her mouth for a moment, finger raised as if to make a point before instead just sipping out of her glass, seeming to finally get the hint.
When they finally got back to their new room for this town, Emma immediately ducked into the bathroom to change into her pajamas. Sam meanwhile opened up his laptop to try and dig up more information. Honestly he didn't think he'd find too much since so little was being released to the news yet, but it would be a good time killer. In the morning before he went to Sarah he'd probably go to the police station and see what he could find out there, just to be thorough. He'd also have to do some EMF sweeps of a few places to see if he could pick anything up.
He was still looking up clues he knew he wouldn't find when Emma was washed up and getting into bed, pulling the covers over herself.
"Uncle?" she called to him softly.
"Hmm?" he asked from where he was working.
"Sorry."
He looked up from the screen to ask her what she was sorry for, but she'd already turned away from him and pulled the covers over her head. What had she meant by that? Sorry for asking about Sarah? Sorry for prying a bit? He didn't think it was a big enough deal for her to apologize over. Was it something else?
A niggling feeling told him that he should ask her what she meant, but she was also giving some very firm signals of not wanting to talk now. He should probably just leave it as it was. After all, she very rarely let things lie when she had something to say on the matter. If it was still something that needed addressing then she would mention it again in the morning, he was sure of it.
He himself though, at least at the moment, was much more comfortable just burying himself in his work for the night.
End of Chapter 26
This chapter was a project, let me tell you. Not because it was particularly hard. Quiet the opposite actually. It practically wrote itself, but in concluding a few things like what happened to Kevin, I'm also opening up some new doors and plot lines. It's all been a trip, an enjoyable one, but a trip nonetheless. Fun to work on but the slightest bit exhausting, just from how much is happening at the moment in the story. Still, no reward without some effort or however that saying goes.
In any case, hope you enjoyed it and please let me know what you think in the comments. Thank you so very much in advance.