AN: The more I write about the cold, the happier I am that it is spring!
I think there's an aw factor to this chapter, or there is if I did my job. Please enjoy.
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Despite Dean's best efforts, Sammy still woke with a gasp and a lurch. "Chill, dude. Where you going?" asked Dean as the younger boy almost fell off his lap.
Sam blinked at him for a second, then threw his arms around Dean's neck and buried his face in the crook of his shoulder.
"Whoa, whoa, it's okay. It was just a dream, okay? You listening, Sammy?"
Sam wasn't crying, but he was trembling even as Dean held him and rubbed his back.
"Sammy?"
The boy finally nodded, but he didn't pick up his head. "Nightmare?" Another nod. "About what?"
"Ice." Sam's voice was muffled against Dean's shoulder.
"Wanna tell me about it?" The dark head shook 'no,' "Okay. Wanna play cars? You can use the Impala."
Sam's head popped right up. "Weally?"
They played with the cars for a long time, and Dean never made Sam relinquish the Impala, even when they were using for the Batmobile. Eventually, they got hungry enough that Dean pulled out the sandwiches that Dad always kept ready in the fridge in case he got back late. They also found and ate a bag of trail mix that has real MMs in it.
Sam entertained himself after that for a while, meaning Dean got the chance to read more comics. And still Dad didn't call or come back. Finally, Sam was half asleep, so Dean made him brush his teeth and get ready for bed, than did the same.
Dean's loose tooth came out while he was brushing his teeth, which impressed Sam mightily. And Dean reasoned that despite a rough start and no Dad, the day had turned out okay. Still...while it was far from the first time they'd gone to sleep without Dad there, it was unlike him to be gone so long without telling them or at least calling.
"P'ease come to bed wiv me," Sammy pleaded, sleepiness ruining his diction. Dean nodded. That had been his plan anyway. Both hands were straight up on the clock, and that meant it was very late. Sam looked up through his lashes at Dean in a way that said he was going to ask for something else. "De..." Sam scuffed one big toe across the faded carpet. "Can I sweep with the 'Pala?"
Dean thought about that. The worst that could happen was that it fell out of the bed. "Okay. You think Batman can chase away the nightmares?" He grinned.
"Nope. 'S not the Batmobile now." Sam's smile came slowly but lit his whole face. "Now 's the Deanmobile."
That was.. flattering. "And you think I can chase away the nightmares?"
Sam gave him a "duh" face. "Jus' don't be my b'anket. You're too heavy."
Earlier nightmares notwithstanding, Sam curled practically on top of Dean and was asleep in minutes. As tired as Dean was, it took him a lot longer. He couldn't stop wondering where Dad was.
Sam's repeated fears about ice echoed in Dean's mind, and he really, really hoped Dad was nowhere near the lake.
WINCHESTER * WINCHESTER
Sam took Nukilik's book along on the drive to the Hansen house, where they were going to talk to 10-year-old Jenna, who might have seen something when her little brother Zach disappeared. They wouldn't be chatting anyway, not on the way to visit the home of a missing child.
Sam understood the jaundiced look Dean had cast toward the tome, but Sam was determined that it would be helpful after all the trouble it had caused them. Two pages in, he was riveted. Some was in English, some in languages he didn't recognize, and some in Latin. Sam traced a finger over some of the Latin. He recognized this.
"Dean? Nukilik isn't our evil spirit. In fact...I think she was a hunter, or something like it. This book is full of cleansing rituals and protective wards and stuff."
"You call the spell that was on the book protective?"
"Designed to incapacitate and disorient, not kill. And tell me you wouldn't do the same thing to Dad's journal if you knew how."
Dean just shrugged. He was still holding a grudge against the book.
"This," Sam tapped a gloved finger against the page, "is an exorcism. There's also a rough draft of her will, directing that her body be salted and burned."
"So, what, something she was hunting killed her, making it look like an accident, then rested a couple months and developed a taste for kids in the meantime?"
The sarcasm didn't bother Sam. He knew Dean was still sore, and that he was worried about the missing kids, and worried that more would go missing while they tried to figure things out. "No..." Sam turned another page. "It seems like...maybe she was more of a protector than an actual hunter. I can't read all of this, but this looks like a schedule for renewing protective wards throughout the town."
Dean tapped his fingers to a beat only he could hear, a sure sign he was thinking. "You think this is like the lady in that Connecticut bed and breakfast who had a stroke and couldn't work her mojo to keep the bad stuff out any more? After Miss Knickknack died unexpectedly, maybe it took a little while for her for the wards to wear off."
Sam pondered that. "Nukilik," he corrected absently. "Yeah, maybe. That makes a lot of sense. Nice."
"Hey, just because you're the brains of the outfit doesn't mean I don't have a brain at all." Beneath the scoffing, Sam could tell Dean was pleased by the praise.
Dean pulled carefully into the driveway of a dark gray ranch. The roads had been plowed but not scraped down to the pavement, and it was still slippery.
It was fortunate that that much had been done, because the drive was tricky even with the sunlight shining blindingly off the endless snow. The Hansen family lived on yet another hill overlooking a frozen lake. Dean sneered at the sight of the latter.
The house was nice and reasonably large, though more modest than the one Missy had disappeared from.
Dean rapped on the cheerful red door. "Mrs. Hansen?" he asked the 35ish blonde woman who answered the door. She was wan and red eyed and haphazardly dressed, as if she didn't have the energy to put toward her appearance. "I'm Agent Plant, and this is Agent Page. We're from the FBI."
"Chief said you'd be coming. You need to talk to Jenna. May I get you some coffee?" The words were polite, but her affect was flat, as if she were numb or utterly exhausted.
"Yes, please," said Sam before Dean could refuse. He was cold...again.
A man about the same age as Mrs. Hansen silently took their coats and directed them to a door off the living room, where a little girl already sat.
"May we talk to Jenna alone?" asked Dean as Mrs. Hansen came back with two cups of steaming coffee.
"Oh...of course," the man said. He sounded as shell shocked as his wife. "We'll just wait in the living room."
The room was a cozy den, with overstuffed furniture and pictures of the family all over the walls.
Jenna huddled miserably in a burgundy wingback chair, her head down so her strawberry blonde hair hid her face. As soon the door closed behind her parents, Dean set his cup down and crouched in front of the girl, not so close he crowded her.
"Hey, Jenna." His voice was soft, kind.
Sam sat and wrapped aching fingers around his own cup, relishing the heat even as it hurt. He'd just sit and listen, well aware of how good Dean could be with kids.
"I'm Dean, and this is Sam. Do you know why we're here?"
Jenna nodded, still not looking up. "To find Zach and the other kids."
"That's right. Figuring it out is kind of like putting a big puzzle together, and I think what you know might give us a couple more pieces."
Sam's phone buzzed in his pocket and he quickly silenced it.
"I don't know where he is, or I would tell you." Jenna finally looked up. Even in December, she had a sprinkling of freckles across her nose, and her tear-stained eyes were blue.
"I know --" Dean started.
"And I don't want to talk about that."
Dean nodded. "I can understand that it isn't easy. Why don't you tell us a little bit about Zach first?"
"Okay." Jenna looked down at her fingers, twisting in her lap. "When Mom first told me I was getting a brother, I wasn't happy. Cuz it was just us until then."
Dean nodded in commiseration and Sam relished the chance to just observe his brother. Dean had so many more sides than most people would ever imagine. And with kids, especially those who were hurting or traumatized, he was utterly caring and genuine, and they responded to him.
"But Zach -- he's little, but he's fun anyway, and I like to help him. And he's really smart." Jenna said the last a little defiantly, as if she expected them to disagree with her.
But Dean nodded again. "My little brother is really smart, too."
Sam suddenly found himself swallowing coffee around a big lump.
Jenna accepted that, then turned to look out the window. Sam followed her gaze. Though it was still sunny, snow was lightly drifting down. "When there's sun and snow at the same time, Zach says there's something like a rainbow, only better. He calls it a snowbow. It's invisible, but you can make wishes on it."
"Do you mind if we wish on this one, too?" Dean asked, and the lump in Sam's throat grew three sizes.
It was Jenna's turn to nod.
"I bet we all wished for the same thing," said Dean after a moment.
Jenna looked straight at Dean now, her bright blue eyes so sad and earnest it was heartbreaking. "I want to tell you, but I'm afraid you'll laugh at me."
Dean sat on the edge of the coffee table and rolled his fingers against his leg in thought.
"How about we make a deal? We'll tell you a secret, then you tell us what you know and we'll all agree that nobody will laugh at anyone."
Jenna considered that solemnly. "Okay. You go first."
Dean waved a hand between himself and Sam. "We don't tell very many people this because we work together, but we're actually brothers." Dean cast a mock angry look at Sam. "And even though he grew to be ridiculously huge, I'm the big brother."
Sam gave Jenna his most innocent look over the top of the coffee cup. The corner of her mouth curled briefly. Then she frowned at Sam's hands. "You should make him wear gloves. I always make Zach wear his gloves."
"We do our best, but we can't protect them from everything," said Dean with raw honesty.
"I couldn't protect Zach. I promised, but I couldn't." A tear rolled down Jenna's cheek. "He kept having nightmares and in the mornings, the doors were all unlocked. Zach was really scared. I promised that I'd stay awake but I fell asleep, and now he's gone."
Dean leaned even farther forward. "Jenna, listen to me: this is not your fault. Not any of it. You're being very brave and you're a great big sister." Jenna scrubbed away her tears. "Do you happen to know what Zach's nightmares were about?"
Jenna shrugged expressively, as if to say it made no sense. "Ice."
Dean's face went slack, his eyes distant, the very definition of gobsmacked. "Ice," he whispered. "Unlocked doors." He pulled himself out of his memories with visible effort. "Thank you, Jenna. That's very helpful."
Dean stood abruptly and Jenna gave him uncertain look. She turned her eyes to Sam. "Do you think Zach's okay?"
"I don't know," answered Sam honestly. He put every ounce of faith he had in his voice and eyes. "But we made our wishes, and I believe in Dean. There is nobody better at this job than my big brother."
WINCHESTER * WINCHESTER
Dean was so distracted while they said their goodbyes and put their cold weather gear back on that Sam toyed with the idea of asking for the keys. Yeah, that would go over just great.
A hand on his arm stopped Sam as he was about to go outside. It was Mrs. Hansen, and she set a small tube on his gloved palm. "This will help your hands," she said.
Sam stuttered his thanks. "I -- we --"
"I know, agent. Thank you." She patted his arm and turned away with a sad smile. As he walked to the snow-dusted car, Sam thought it wasn't surprising that Jenna was so tough.
"Okay, spill," he demanded as they pulled out of the driveway. "What did you remember?"
"We have to call Bobby."
"Oh, yeah. He called while we were at the Hansen's." Sam pulled off his right glove and started to unzip his coat so he could fish out his phone.
"Wait," commanded Dean. "I need to think some more first. We'll call him from the room. Just...look at that book some more."
Sam rolled his eyes but obeyed. He didn't put his glove on immediately, but cupped his hand around the blessedly warm air flowing from the vent in front of him. Dean eyed the motion but didn't say anything, so Sam began to read again. The book was fascinating, somewhere between a hunter's journal and a white grimoire. There was even an oath:
Wherever I find myself, I pledge to use what I know to protect those around me and to fight evil in any supernatural form, even if it puts my own life at risk. I pledge to seek to heal wounds and sicknesses of all kinds to the best of my ability. And I pledge to keep the secrets of the angakkuq safe from those forces that would use them for evil. And I'll share them when necessary to safeguard the lives under my protection.
Sam guessed that the words above the pledge were the same thing in a different language. He felt a certain respect for the dead woman and wished he could have met her. He believed that Dean's theory was partly right -- with her protections gone, something evil had moved in.
But what?
And was there any possibility that any of the kids who'd been taken were still alive?
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AN: The idea of a "snowbow" is something one of my kids came up with. He decided that there had to be something special about "sun snow."
DearHart: Aw, you are so nice! I love hugs, even virtual ones. I'm just so happy to hear that you are enjoying the story. Seriously, it makes my day! I came to the fandom very late, so I'm going to be writing it for a long time yet.
Kathy: Was the disappearing footprints thing creepy? I pictured it in my head late one night and creeped myself out. lol
Scealai: When I was young and stupid(er) I went out in really cold weather with wet hair and got a teeny bit of frostbite on the tips of my ears and even that was misery! They still hurt in the cold. Sam's poor hands will get some TLC...eventually. The Queen Boudicca comment made me very, very happy! I love her. And you and your plot bunnies / greyhounds! I love them...and can't resist them.
Timelady66: I would probably be the person all the cold, skinny people want to cuddle with! Of course, the only time in my life I was always warm enough was when I was pregnant. lol I'm glad the flashbacks work for you. I can't resist throwing those in.
Kat: If I try to subtly weave something through a story, it's pretty much a guarantee that you'll pick up on it. So does that mean I'm not good at subtle or that you and I think alike? :-)
sfaulkenberry: I never used to write any Dean whump, but now I like to mix it in. Of course, you know it's not going to stop there! I'm glad you like my snarky sense of humor. I do love the boys bitching at each other.
Shazza: hehe! That made me laugh. Of course I'd never whump anyone. Ha!
BruisedBloodyBroken: More to come!!