Hello! I struggled with this chapter until I realized I could just end it where I was at. Sometimes it be like that.

Chapter 8: You Will Be Safe

Haven

Sioux Falls, South Dakota, USA

May of 1987

"I want to help."

Mr. Bobby looked down at Haven and she stared right back. It was nighttime, after Sammy's bedtime and getting close to when the adults would tell her and Dean to go to bed, too. But Mr. Bobby was making Sammy's cake for his 4th birthday, which would be the next day, and she wanted to help. She knew how to help make cake. She'd helped for Dudley's last birthday cake. She'd much rather make Sammy a cake than Dudley.

"It's pretty late, Haven," Mr. Bobby pointed out, as if she was stupid and didn't already know. She frowned at him as fiercely as she could manage.

"I know that. But you're making Sammy's cake and I wanna help. I won't sleep if you don't let me help."

"Don'tcha trust me to manage a cake?"

Haven thought about it, then shook her head. "No."

Mr. Bobby sighed. Adults did that to her a lot. She wasn't sure what else she was supposed to say. Lying was bad, mostly, and she didn't know him much. His food was good enough, but this was Sammy's birthday cake and it was Important. It had to be done just right. She didn't know all the parts of making a cake, but she was good at what she knew and if she watched him, she would be able to make sure he did it right.

"Stubborn kid. You fit right in." It didn't sound like he was saying no, but it wasn't a yes, either.

"I know how to do parts, like the eggs and the mixing, and stuff like that. I can help," Haven said.

"You like cookin'?"

Haven shrugged. She didn't like it or hate it. It was just a thing she had to do, once, to eat. As long as she didn't get burned by bacon grease, it was fine. "I can do it."

He looked at her quietly for a few moments. She wasn't sure why, but she shifted until he talked again. "Well, then let's get started so you can get some sleep. You have school tomorrow. I'll show you how I make 'em."

Haven carefully watched everything he did, even though he told her what he was doing as he did it. It was just baking things until it was popped into the oven to, well, bake.

Mr. Bobby looked at her after closing the oven door. "Ready to go to bed now?"

"The cake isn't done," Haven replied.

"Not much left to do."

Haven pouted at him and crossed her arms over her chest. She wasn't gonna move until it was done. He could still mess up the icing.

Mr. Bobby sighed again. "Alright, alright, you stubborn kid. We'll finish it up tomorrow. I'll wait for ya. Now will you get on to bed?"

She thought about it for a few moments. She was tired. Just thinking about it, she hid a yawn behind her hand. "Just don't touch it without me."

"I won't," he said, smiling a bit for some reason. She was trying her best to look stern. Maybe she didn't have a very good stern face yet. She tried it out in the mirror and it looked fine to her, though… Maybe Mr. Bobby was just weird. He seemed a bit weird.

Haven hesitated, not sure if she wanted to trust that he was telling the truth.

Mr. Bobby held out a hand. "I'll shake on it. Swear not to mess with the cake without you there. Does that work for ya?"

She stared at his hand. Then she slowly reached forward with her own and grabbed his, just for a moment. His hand was a lot bigger than hers. Then she stuffed her hands in her pockets.

"Alright. Good night, then," she muttered.

"Good night, kid," Mr. Bobby replied as she turned away and went to get changed and head for bed.

She made sure to check the next morning. The cake looked untouched. It still looked untouched when she was called over to help decorate.

Tip of her tongue sticking out, she carefully squeezed out icing around the cake. Then she formed the words: "Happy Birthday Sammy". The letters weren't that good, but they weren't bad, either. She did start running out of room at the end of 'birthday', making the letters smaller and closer together, but she still smiled at the blue icing proudly.

"Good job, kid," said Bobby, clapping her shoulder. She jumped away at the touch, but then realized it didn't hurt. He looked surprised for a moment before looking back at the cake. "Well, they're waitin' on us." He lifted up the tray the cake was on. "Get the plates and forks for me, would ya?"

Haven nodded and did as she was asked. Then she followed him to the dining room table, where the others were waiting. All of them were smiling, and Sammy clapped his hands in excitement as the cake was set in front of him. Bobby placed little candles into it and John lit them and she and Dean sang happy birthday, her a beat behind Dean.

As they finished, John said, "Make a wish, Sam. Go on."

Sammy blew out the candles with a surprisingly strong puff that she could feel across the table, despite how small he was. His smile was so big Haven couldn't help but smile back.

The only thing that disappointed her about that day was that Sammy got less presents than Dudley ever did. In her opinion, he deserved more, but somehow, he seemed happier with the little he got than Dudley ever did.

And Dudley had never immediately handed her a piece of candy he'd gotten for his birthday, either.

"Your turn, Haven."

Mouth dry, her fumbling, small fingers did their best to load the gun and fire at a makeshift target set up in grass away from the cars and house. She knew how to do it, but only slowly. She wasn't as quick as Dean was. Not yet. She felt clumsy and stupid. It had been a few weeks since they started. She was determined she had to be better, faster.

"By the time you load it, something's already killed you, Dean, and Sam," John's voice wasn't cruel like Uncle Vernon or Aunt Petunia, but it wasn't nice like Pastor Jim's. She preferred it that way. She liked that he didn't baby her, but he didn't take her food or lock her up. He hadn't even hit her yet, not really. The training was more taps than the hits she was used to. That was nice. It left less bruises.

But his words reminded her that she was nowhere near strong enough.

At the very least, they'd finally gotten through gun safety and onto the shooting. It was very loud. Much louder than on the telly. It was hard to aim, but she'd managed to hit the big target a few times. He didn't have her trying any of the big guns. They were too big for her to hold. This one was heavy enough. It was heavier than she had expected, and her fingers had felt weird for a while trying to stretch to be in the right places.

She shot. Bang! It sounded like a firework but even louder. The gun 'recoiled', as John said. He'd warned her it would do it the first time, but she still hadn't expected it. Now she did, but she still wasn't very quick to fix the aim for the next shot. Her arms were starting to hurt now. Bang! She emptied the gun of bullets. Only one had hit the target.

Not good enough. She scowled at the target.

"Dean, you're up."

She watched as he did it faster. He hit the target more, too. When he turned back to her, he was smiling. He reached over to ruffle her hair. She stepped back, trying not to smile despite the fact her face wanted to. He wasn't so bad to train with, though it upset her to see him doing everything so much better than she did. He bragged a little, but wasn't mean about it. He'd sometimes help her after he did it, too. She'd be better than him one day. That day didn't seem to be any time soon.

"Good, Dean," John said, ruffling Dean's hair. Both were smiling. She tried not to pout too much.

Haven tried again. She hated how small her hands were. She hated being small. Even a small gun was strong. Only superheroes could take a bullet easily. It couldn't stop all monsters, but some it could slow down. Monsters were too complicated. They had their own weaknesses, like Superman and kryptonite. The key was finding out what kind of monster it was so you could be prepared to kill it the right way before it killed you.

Though they weren't doing any of that yet. They wouldn't be allowed to help hunt for a long time. John didn't tell her when, but she could tell he'd make them train a lot first. It made her grumpy to think about, but this way when she could join, she'd be good at it. Monsters were going to be like the fae- scary and powerful. She had to get strong enough not to be scared anymore. She had to be stronger than they were. Stronger than Dean, stronger than bullies, stronger than Dudley, stronger than monsters, stronger than anybody.

It was probably gonna take a long time and a lot of bullets, though.

She emptied the gun, but not a single bullet hit the target. Haven stomped her foot in frustration, feeling tears at the corners of her eyes. Not good enough at all. The time when she would be strong seemed like a long, long time. Maybe even never.

Dean looked at her sympathetically, but John just said, "Load again."

Biting her lip, she did it, vision blurring a little. John knelt down next to her, helping her to lift the gun and point it at the target. He put his head on her shoulder. His hands were a lot bigger. Steadier.

"Focus on the target, Haven." As he spoke, she nodded and stared straight at it. "That is a monster. It is going to kill Dean and Sammy if you don't put a bullet in it. Are you going to protect them, or are you going to watch it hurt the boys?"

The quiet voice, the target, and the gun were all that existed. The target became the fae, smiling cruelly, sparks dancing on its fingers. It would kill her. Worse, it would kill Sammy. Kill that cute little kid who shared the few toys he had with her and smiled at her like she wasn't a freak.

"Now pull the trigger. Protect them."

She squeezed. Bang!

When she lowered the gun, she saw a new hole in the target.

Anyone else seeing Haven maybe or maybe not severely maiming any bullies in Sam's future?