Chapter Thirty-Three: An Imitation Game

~As sly as a fox, as strong as an ox

As quiet as a mouse as big as a house

As hot as fire, cold as ice

Sweet as sugar and everything nice

As pretty as a picture hanging from a fixture

Strong like a family, that's how I wanna be

Bright as day, as light as play

As hard as nails, as grand as a tale~

"So, he shoots arrows into people because... he's sad?"

"Yeah, pretty much," Marty answered with a nod.

"I don't think that's a positive stress outlet," Jack said, shaking his head.

"That's 'cause it's not!" She laughed.

After sitting on the floor alongside his new older sister in silence for a while, Jack had still felt awful. Because, despite how much she tried to hide it, he could finally see it now - the pain. Marty was hurting, truly hurting, and that pain ran deep under her skin. That pain was embedded in her so deeply that Jack feared it might never come out and he hated it. He hated that she was hurting, he hated how deep her scars ran, he hated that she had been left alone for so long, he hated that she was terrified to be left alone again, he hated that her past wouldn't leave her be, he hated that she might never be happy again, but most of all, Jack hated that he couldn't do anything to make all that pain go away.

So, Jack had decided that Sam's rules were stupid and that this occasion called for popcorn and Netflix.

Now, Jack leaned back against his headboard with his laptop resting in his lap and Marty laying across his chest. Marty had requested to show him Arrow and so far he enjoyed it. They were about halfway through their third bag of popcorn and Jack just couldn't hold back his questions anymore.

"But why use a bow and arrow? Wouldn't a gun be more efficient?" He asked, shoving another handful of popcorn into his mouth.

"Oh, yeah, totally. But I guess he thinks that using the arrows makes him better than the criminals somehow."

"How? Arrows are bigger, wouldn't they hurt worse than a bullet, therefore, making him worse than any other criminal?" He pointed out.

"You know what? Take that one up with the creators, man, you are absolutely right!" She declared before shifting a little and snuggling a little closer to him.

It actually wasn't awkward having her laying across him; Jack was figuring out that Marty simply did not understand the concept of physical boundaries whatsoever and being honest, he didn't either. So, when she had decided to use his chest as a pillow, Jack had decided that he didn't mind.

Actually to say he didn't mind was an understatement. See, when she had curled her tiny frame against him, it had set off this strange feeling in his stomach. It was like when he'd noticed she was wearing his shirt. He didn't understand it, but for whatever reason, seeing her curled up against him while still wearing his shirt - it made him happy. Having her so close - it felt so inexplicably right . It was strange and new but Jack realized that although he liked having her this close to him, it wasn't enough, he wanted her closer .

As he glanced down at Marty with her big grey eyes glued to the screen, something inside his chest ached and his fingers twitched. He realized that 'closer' wasn't the only thing he wanted from her. He wanted to hold her, he wanted to keep her with him forever because she was special even though he didn't understand why. But more than anything, Jack wanted to touch her. Jack was curious about this new feeling, one touch couldn't hurt, right?

So, he wrapped one arm around her waist to pull her just a little bit closer. The simple action filled him with sparks and Jack decided that he really, really, liked this new feeling.

Of course, that was when their moment had to end, courtesy of one Sam Winchester. He swung open the door and flipped on the lights sending the two kids into a chorus of complaints. Sam thought it was pretty funny.

"Alright, come on you guys! Dean and Cas are waiting in the kitchen and, uh, we got some things we-we'd like to talk to you about. Also, Dean made waffles and-" Sam stopped, taking notice of the discarded popcorn bags. "Hold on, is that popcorn?"

Jack glanced at Marty, hoping for some kind of assistance but all he got was a facial expression that managed to be confused, impressed, sheepish, and annoyed all at the same time.

"It is, yes," He answered, trying unsuccessfully to hide his own sheepish grin. Sam shook his head.

"How did you - you know what? Never mind, I don't wanna know. What have you been doing in here and for how long?" He asked with a sigh.

"W-well, um, we-" Sam gave the boy a look that said, ' Oh yeah, you know you're in trouble ' and Jack gulped. How mad would Sam be that Jack had broken the Netflix rule?

"I, for one, never went to sleep," Marty declared, drawing Sam's attention away from Jack who sighed with relief, "I spent my night Edward Cullen-ing a Nephilim!"

"Y-you spent y-your night doing what?" Sam sputtered.

"Having an anxiety attack and watching him sleep, just without the - you know - breaking and entering part, " She replied flatly.

"Huh." Sam looked like he was going to have an anxiety attack himself. Jack didn't understand why but then again, he didn't know what Twilight was. Marty just continued like her odd way of expressing herself was absolutely normal.

"Yeah, then he woke up sometime around three and we were both low-key depressed so, we decided to watch Oliver Queen make human pin-cushions instead of dealing with our feelings." Marty sure had a way with words. Sam blinked. He looked like he was questioning how someone could be so strange... and blunt.

"Alright then. Huh. Well, if you guys want any waffles, you better hurry up." He tapped twice on the doorframe before turning on his heel in the direction of the kitchen.

Jack didn't want to move but Marty didn't seem to have a problem. She was up and out the door before Jack could say a word, so he followed after her with a sigh.

When he walked through the kitchen door the first thing he noticed was the floating whiteboard. Jack tilted his head and watched with curiosity as a black marker started moving drawing letters on the board. Glancing around, the Nephilim wondered if he was the only one who could see it as the others weren't paying the phenomenon any mind. Jack's attention was drawn back to the whiteboard when the marker stopped moving.

GOOD MORNING, ALPHA AND OMEGA SIMPS.

HOW WAS SLEEPING WITH MY SISTER, JACKIE-BOY?

Jack was pretty sure that all the blood in his body was concentrated in his face at that moment, judging by how hot his cheeks became when he read that last sentence. Some friends from Apocalypse World had explained what that phrasing meant, and he wasn't sure how he should feel about it.

"I-I, uh, w-we, umm..."

"Isaac, get your mind out of the gutter, please!" Marty groaned, shaking her head as she walked over to the table and started dishing herself up some waffles. The words erased themselves from the whiteboard, but the marker quickly started making new ones.

NEVER! BESIDES, LOOK AT THE SIMP, HE TOTALLY WANTS TO!

Jack's cheeks grew even redder, and he was ninety-eight percent sure that the heat in his face meant he had to be dying. His eyes caught Marty's and for a split second he almost thought he could see a blush on her face as well, but she was quick to turn away. He must have imagined it.

"Don't worry about him, Jack. My brother is an idiot, he's just teasing you," She said, sitting beside Dean. Jack remained frozen just inside the door.

NO, I'M NOT

WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR?

JUST JUMP THE GIRL'S BONES ALREADY!

Sam and Cas sighed heavily, Marty thunked her head on the table, and Dean looked about ready to spit his coffee. As for Jack, well, Jack thought that dying sounded significantly less bad all of a sudden.

"Dude, could you not? I am trying to eat," Dean said, glaring at the floating whiteboard.

I KNOW

"I think I'm about to salt n' burn your brother," Dean hissed at Marty who hadn't moved her head off the table.

"I think I'm about to let you," She replied.

OHMYGOSH, RUDE

"Whatcha' gonna do, Casper?" Dean taunted. The ghost drew a face with its tongue sticking out and Dean stuck his tongue out at the ghost.

"Come on, Dean, what are you? Two? Isaac, we gave you that thing so we could communicate with you. Don't make me take it away," Sam warned, sounding like a parent. One of the drawers in the shelf at the far side of the room opened and Jack ducked as a full-size meat cleaver whizzed past his head before stopping in front of the whiteboard.

DON'T YOU DARE

"I can and I will," Threatened Sam.

OKAY, FINE, I'LL SHUT UP! YOU DON'T HAVE TO BE SO MEAN!

The words disappeared and were replaced by a big sad face. Then the marker capped itself and didn't move again.

Jack decided that Marty's brother scared him and, as he wandered over to the table and served himself a plate of waffles, Jack wondered if he would ever feel safe again. He didn't think he would.

"Can we all please just agree that the last five or so minutes never happened?" Marty suggested.

"Yes." Jack had never meant anything more in his life. The others just made vague sounds of agreement.

After a few moments of painfully awkward silence, Dean finished chewing and cleared his throat.

"Alright, I got up early this morning and made these waffles because the adults in the room-"

"Adults being a subjective term," Cas muttered under his breath. Dean glared at him but carried on.

"-would like to talk to you. Both of you. Now, Marty, we know we're not your parents, but please just hear us out 'kay?"

"M'kay," Marty said, her mouth full of waffle. She gave Dean a thumbs up. "Good waffles, man. Thanks."

"You're welcome, I knew there was a reason I liked you. All that being said, uh... Sammy, you're up." Dean patted his brother on the shoulder and stuffed another waffle in his mouth.

"Really?" Sam frowned, "You're just gonna shove all this off on me?"

"I'm your big brother, it's called ' delegation '."

"You said you'd help."

"And I did! I made the waffles!"

"Jerk."

"Bitch."

"Anyway," Sam huffed, rolling his eyes, "Jack, first off, we wanna say that we're sorry. We shouldn't have taken you to Times Square. What happened was our fault; we should have known better and please know we don't blame you. We also thought you should know that nobody died."

Jack felt as though a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. He wasn't responsible for any more death. The thought made him smile. Sam continued.

"And, uh, good news for you, Marty, Cas talked to Rowena and she's doing everything she can to find Felix but we don't know how long it might take."

"And if your witch friend can't find him?" Marty asked, surprisingly calm.

"Then we have other methods," Sam answered, "On that note, we wanted to say thank you."

"For what?"

"For taking care of Jack when we couldn't," Cas sighed, giving Marty a meaningful look, "You didn't have to help him, it wasn't your responsibility, yet you put your life on the line to help him and we are in your debt - I am in your debt."

Marty shook her head. "You guys don't owe me anything, really. I just did what anybody would've."

"Kid, you stopped the son of Satan from cutting himself. Not many people would do that," Dean said, shaking his head as he stabbed another waffle.

"Ya hear that, Jack? I'm one in a million!" Marty joked. Jack just smiled at her.

"I already knew that," He said. Again, Jack thought he saw a blush creep along Marty's face. But he must have been wrong.

"As for you, Jack." Cas turned to the boy with a plea in his eyes. "Please promise me you'll never do that again."

"I promise." Under the table, Marty squeezed Jack's hand.

"Good! That's, ah, that's good." Sam smiled but there was something nervous about it. "Now that that's out of the way, we would like to take this opportunity to talk to you about some things. You, Marty, specifically."

Marty's gaze flicked nervously between the hunters.

"Okay, I'm scared. Why do you sound like you'd naturally like to take this opportunity to talk to me about my drinking problem?"

"You have a drinking problem?" Jack asked, surprised.

"Not that I'm aware of."

"Then why-"

"She's joking, Jack," Dean said, cutting him off.

"Oh."

"Seriously though, what's got you looking like you're about to tell me I've got the plague?" Marty asked. Sam sighed.

"We've got this friend, you met him, his name's Gabriel and something about you has him rattled," Sam said.

"He thinks you're bad news. As in, worse news than the Devil having a kid," Dean interjected, bluntly.

That line pricked at Jack's heart, but it always did so he shoved the pain aside.

"And do you believe that?" Marty asked, timidly.

"Should we?" Sam countered. Marty shook her head as she stared at her hands and shrugged.

"Felix always told me I'm special, he just never told me why."

"Well, we-we think we might know." Sam gave her a small smile.

"You do?"

"Yeah, um, I did some research, and we think you might be psychic, like-like your brother," Sam told her. Marty shook her head.

"No. No, I can't move things with my mind, guys." She laughed a little but there was fear hidden there.

"No, we know. Isaac is a telekinetic a-and clearly a very powerful one, but we think you're different. We-we think you might be an - uh - an empath."

"An empath?" Marty spoke slow and disbelieving. Dean nodded.

"Like how telepaths can read minds, empaths can feel people's feelings. Both are annoying if you ask me," Dean said, earning a glare from Sam.

"Well, duh. I know what an empath is, I'm not stupid, I just - you think I'm one?" Marty asked, still a little shocked.

"A very powerful one, yes," Cas answered.

"Why?"

"See, Marty, some empaths can do more than just feel emotions," Sam explained, "Some can alter people's feelings, and some - the really powerful ones - can connect with people down to their very soul and that connection lasts beyond death. Your brother is a powerful psychic, so maybe it runs in your family."

"Okay." Marty nodded, slowly. "You still look like you ran over my dog."

Dean spoke up.

"Well, like my brother said, some of these really powerful empaths can manipulate how people feel, they can make people do things they wouldn't otherwise do."

"Yeah, and..."

"Have you been intentionally manipulating us, Martina?" Castiel asked. Marty pursed her lips and looked away. It was as if she had something to hide. Jack wondered what it was.

"If by 'intentionally' you mean I used some freaky psychic crap on you, then no." Her voice was very quiet.

"Yeah, I think there's a really big hole in that statement, kid." Dean sounded angry. "Wanna explain?"

Sam held out a hand like a warning.

"I think what Dean is trying to say is that you need to tell us the truth, Marty. All of it."

Marty sighed. When she looked up again, Jack had to do a double-take. The girl didn't look anything like Marty, at least, not the one he knew. Her face was blank and completely emotionless like there wasn't even a person inside. Her big, grey eyes were guarded, even more so than when Jack had first met her. Just like the clouds over Copper Harbor, her eyes seemed stormy and bleak. She seemed distant and dead. She reminded him of that frozen, dead town they had found her in - the one that Jack had hated. But worst of all was her voice, it sounded like ice. It was sickeningly sweet, and so, so cold. It was like the rime on the Impala's windows. He hated it. Her tone made a shiver run down Jack's spine. Her tone made him want to run.

"I manipulate everyone, Dean Winchester. You are not an exception."

Hearing her voice like that, Jack knew only one thing. He never wanted to hear it that way again.

"What are you talking about?" Castiel growled. Marty's cold eyes flicked to him.

"Every person sees what I need them to see. Nothing more and nothing less. Keeping myself hidden is how I keep myself safe. I know I look harmless, so I act harmless and the people who want to hurt me underestimate me. You guys wanted to see a sweet little girl, so that's what I gave you."

Maybe Marty wasn't as helpless as Jack had thought.

"What about Gabriel? What did you give him?" Dean pressed.

"What I'm giving you now," She answered.

"And what's that?" Cas asked.

"A mask," She replied, "It's what I hide behind when I'm scared of what someone is going to do to me."

"Why?" Jack wondered.

"Because it scares people when they look into a person's eyes and can't see somebody looking back at them. The only thing that can scare a predator without a soul is a soulless victim." Marty was beginning to come back. Her eyes were far away, but no longer dead. "I wasn't lying to you, not exactly. See, I used to be innocent, but I'm not anymore because I had to protect myself. I'm just trying my best to be good now."

Sam nodded.

"That's all any of us can do. Thank you for telling us the truth."

"You're not mad?" Marty asked.

"Nah," Dean said, waving his hand, "Can't be mad attcha for surviving. You're one tough cookie, Marty, and I think, given time, you could turn out to be one kick-ass hunter. Whaddya say?"

Marty blinked.

"I understood each of those words individually. You're asking me what?

"He's asking if you'd like to stay with us after we take care of Felix," Sam explained, chuckling, "I mean, you don't have anywhere else to go so we figured you could stay with us."

"I already asked her to," Jack said, only sort of interrupting.

"You did?" Cas asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Yes. I asked her to be my sister." Jack said the words as if they were commonplace.

"Jack, ya can't just ask somebody to be your sister, that's not how that works," Dean sighed, shaking his head.

"Well, I did." He shrugged.

"And I said yes," Marty informed them.

"So, we're siblings now," Jack declared with a grin.

The two hunters and their angel shared a look before all three of them shrugged simultaneously.

"Yeah okay, but I want it to go on record that whatever I walked in on earlier didn't look very sibling-ish," Sam said, smirking. Jack's face burned again but Marty just shrugged.

"My therapist said I have boundary issues, but I don't really care."

"So, lemme get this straight. You two don't like like each other?" Dean asked.

The Nephilim and the empath glanced at each other for a moment.

"Of course not."

"Nothing but platonic feelings all over the place."

"And all those platonic feelings are why you're wearing Jack's shirt, right?" Dean's smirk broadened and Jack's blush deepened.

"Uh, I was cold," Marty said.

"Uh, huh. Why not wear your own shirt?" He pressed.

"I only have three."

"So, what's the problem?"

"They're all short-sleeved, Dean!"

Dean almost ran out of arguments.

"Okay, one, we need to go get you some clothes. Two, then why not wear one of mine or Sam's?"

Marty glared at him and waved a hand in his face. The sleeves came to a stop about four inches past her fingers. "If I were to wear one of Sam's shirts, I would drown in it," She huffed. Dean considered this for a moment.

"Touché," He said, "Now, go get some shoes on, we're gonna go get you some clothes."

"I'm finishing my waffles first."

"Good girl," Dean teased, ruffling her hair as he stood. "We leave in twenty!" He walked to the door before turning around and looking at the strange group, an odd fondness in his eyes.

"What ya lookin' at?" Marty asked with her mouth full.

"Two salty hunters, one angel minus the shotgun, half a celestial toddler, and an empath with some prescription-grade abandonment issues. Team Free Will 3.0. Welcome to the family, kid." Dean grinned before leaving the room and Sam followed him shortly after.

Marty skipped out the door after straight-up inhaling three more waffles and Jack put his dishes away before moving to follow her but Castiel stopped him.

"Jack?"

"Yes?"

"Please be careful around Martina," Cas warned quietly.

"Why?" Jack chuckled.

"I am yet to be convinced of her intentions," Cas replied.

"You think she's dangerous?" Jack asked, slowly, his brows drawing together.

"I know she is a very good liar. You saw that today."

The boy shook his head. How could Castiel accuse her of something like that? She was just protecting herself.

"Marty is not dangerous. She's my friend, " He said with conviction.

"I understand that, Jack. But you need to-"

"I don't need to do anything."

"Jack, please listen I just-"

"No!" Jack could feel the anger bubbling up in his chest though he wasn't quite sure where it had come from. Cas sighed.

"All I ask is for you to be careful. Marty may not be who she claims."

"I said -" Jack's voice lowered, turning into something dark and cold "- She's my friend." He sent Cas a scowl before walking out.

And Castiel was left to wonder... Had that been a threat?

~As mean as a wolf, as sharp as a tooth

As deep as a bite, as dark as the night

As sweet as a song, as right as a wrong

Pure as a melody, pure as I wanna be

All I wanna be

Is everything

And I am all I wanna be

And it's everything

Everything at once~