A/N: Hey look, another chapter already! And it's a long one too. Thanks again to all who've come back to follow Dean and Sophia in this story! Remember, reviews make my day! Any mistakes are my own.
Disclaimer: Don't own anything you recognize, just borrowing for fun and entertainment.
The Grand Illusion
The older man looks up as she opens the door and crosses the empty room toward him. The light from his cigarette flashes as he takes another drag before blowing the smoke up toward the ceiling.
Sophia stops in front of him, eyes wary, still scanning the room. "Well, I'm here. What do you have? Who are you? How do you know about my parents?"
He raises an eyebrow at her barrage of questions. "Young lady, I am not here to answer your questions. I am only here to deliver certain information as it benefits me to do so."
"Fine," she replies with a sigh, "then why don't you share whatever information you're going to share. It's likely not a good idea of either of us to be hanging around here."
"Quite. I should not be here at all, but needs must, I'm afraid. You must find the entity that killed your parents, Miss Kane. Soon. Or it will be too late."
Sophia laughs bitterly. "Would have done that years ago if I knew how." She blows out a frustrated breath. "Look, if that's all you've got…"
He shushes her impatiently. "No, you do not understand. It is critical that you find the entity and destroy it. They are coming, Miss Kane. And it is up to you to stop them."
"They? Who's coming? You're talking in riddles here and I don't have time for you to be yanking my chain." She turns to walk away. She should have known this was nothing. A dead end. He was probably trying to interfere in their investigation of whatever killed the professor and the cursed object they came here to deal with in the first place.
"I knew them, Sophia."
The words stop her in her tracks, but she doesn't turn. Doesn't reply. Doesn't know how.
"Your parents. I knew them. I know about their work and the critical research they were pursuing before their deaths."
She looks back over her shoulder at him, the sudden pain in her chest making it hard for her to breathe. "You knew my parents?"
He nods slowly, tossing the cigarette to the ground and grinding it out. "Yes, I knew them. They did important work and provided important information to many in the business."
Facing him again, she grits her teeth before saying slowly. "Then help me understand what to do next. How do I find what killed them?"
The man reaches into his pocket and pulls something out, looking at it for a moment before reaching out to hand it to her.
Slowly, she holds out her hand, but before she can take whatever it is, the loud retort of a gunshot startles her just before he jerks away as if he was shoved.
She turns instantly, dropping to her knees and pulling the gun from the small of her back in one smooth motion. Her eyes find two men, tall, dressed in dark clothing. One is lowering his gun to settle on her, while the other provides cover, scanning the room to make sure they're alone.
Without hesitation, she fires at the man aiming at her, hitting him square in the shoulder and knocking him sideways. The cover man looks surprised for a moment, then returns fire.
~~SPN~~
Sam hears his brother curse breathlessly behind him, but doesn't shorten his naturally longer stride to allow his brother to keep up. "Not too much further," he says, looking down at the blinking dot on his phone and then up at the street sign on the next corner. It's damned lucky he'd installed the small GPS tracker on the Impala last year. Given everything going on with them, he'd thought it prudent to make sure they could at least always find the car.
"Jesus, I hope not. When you said walking distance, I thought you meant across the street."
Sam rolls his eyes and keeps moving. "Pretty sure we'd have seen the car if it was across the street, Dean." He turns left at the next corner, then right at the next. Slowing finally, he waits for his brother and nods toward the large lot about halfway down the block. "There."
Dean's face tightens as they move further down and he can see the Impala parked in the lot outside what appears to be an abandoned warehouse. The lighting is poor, but as they get closer, he can see most of the windows are either filmed over with dirt or broken out entirely.
"Nice place."
"At least we won't have to worry about nosy neighbors." Sam pulls out his Taurus for the second time that night, holding it down near his side, hopefully out of view should anyone drive by.
Dean slides his own weapon out, the 1911 comfortable and comforting in his hand. It's too much to hope that whatever this is will end with a nice friendly chat. Their lives just don't work that way.
The thought has barely crossed his mind when they hear the first gun shot.
~~SPN~~
Sophia rolls away, but not quite quickly enough as she feels the bullet tear through the sleeve of her jacket. She doesn't think she's hit, but there's not time to think much about it before another shot is winging past her, kicking up dirt and concrete beside her.
She fires again, back in the direction of the last bullet. With all the moving she has to do, she doesn't have time to aim properly, but hopes to at least get close enough to distract. Before she can get off another shot, however, she hears a different gun joining the party from the far side of the room nearer the door. She closes her eyes for a brief moment, hoping to God that they aren't aiming at her.
Something is apparently going to go her way tonight, she realizes, as the cover man curses and she hears his return fire. Away from her.
Seeing that he's now outnumbered and his partner is down, cover man backs away quickly and out another door, followed more slowly by his injured friend.
Sophia takes a long breath and stutters to her feet. She's pretty sure she knows who ended up saving her ass, and she's also pretty sure the fallout is going to be a nightmare. So instead of meeting it head-on, she avoids the confrontation and makes her way quickly back to her fallen companion.
Bending over him, she checks for a pulse, finding only a very slow, very uneven beat. She drops her head and sits back on her heels, hot tears gathering.
The man shifts a bit. "Sophia…," he whispers. She leans closer, trying to hear, hoping against hope he can give her something to go on. "Sophia….follow…" He coughs, chest rattling, fingers twitching with effort. "Follow your parents….they had...they had the answer..." With another cough and a long shudder, the man slips away.
"Damn it," Sophia whispers, letting the tears drip down her face. All this and what does she have? Just more cryptic remarks and nonsense. She'd been through all her parents' papers a thousand times by this point and had never found anything that explained their horrific deaths. She pounds her fists on her knees. "Damn it!"
She hears Dean behind her. Feels the weight of his gaze on her back. Appreciates that he didn't interrupt those last moments with whoever the hell he was even though he must be absolutely furious with her. Swiping her hand across her face, she rises and turns, not ready to face him in the slightest, but knowing her time to stall has run out.
~~SPN~~
Dean watches as Sophia finally gets to her feet after hearing the dying old man's final words. It had taken everything in him (along with Sam's restraining hand) not to simply snatch her up and shake her. He'd already been furious she'd gone off on her own, but now to find her in the middle of a freaking shoot out.
She doesn't look at him, but his eyes are all over her. Her clothes are filthy, but she doesn't look hurt. His breath catches when he sees the bullet hole in her sleeve. Wiping a hand over his face, he starts to say something, but again, Sam's restraining hand comes to the rescue. Instead of saying something he'll probably regret later, he just mumbles, "Let's go," turns, and walks out.
The short ride back to the motel is silent, the air thick with tension. Once back in the room, Sophia gathers her kit and a nightshirt and heads to the bathroom. Dean sees her pause briefly when she sees the broken lamp in the corner, but she doesn't say anything.
He hears the shower start, and drops into a chair, head falling to his chest. What the hell is he going to say when she comes out? Part of him wants to read her the riot act for going off on her own and getting in the middle of a god damned gun fight. But another part sees how clearly affected she is by whatever happened in her meeting with the dead man. God knows he had done a truckload of stupid shit trying to find his dad and the thing that killed his mother and Jess. Screaming at her for doing the same thing is uncomfortably pot/kettle.
Of course, that had never stopped him before as Sam would no doubt be happy to testify. He huffs a laugh, sitting back up to stare at the door. The shower shuts off. Not much longer before he's going to have to decide.
~~SPN~~
Sophia leans into the steaming water, letting it wash away the bitter tears she can't hold back any longer. Quite the payoff for risking both her life and her relationship with Dean. She doesn't know any more than she did, and the man who could have told her more is dead. She has no idea who the men are that tried to kill him, why they were there, and how they play into this whole ridiculous scenario. Oh, and she doesn't know how any of the rest of this ties to the murder of the professor and the coin they found.
A bitter laugh escapes her. "Well done, Sophia. You've done a fine job sorting out this case," she mumbles. "It'll really help to smooth things over with Dean when you can show him all the answers you got."
Unfortunately, she can't hide in the shower all night, so she rinses off and steps out. She takes her time getting her nightshirt on and brushing out her hair. When she can't think of anything else to do to delay the inevitable, she takes a deep breath and reaches for the door.
~~SPN~~
Dean hears some quiet shuffling once the water cuts off, but it seems like a long time before he hears the door knob turn. He looks up as she comes back into the room, but she keeps her face turned away, her damp hair falling like a curtain to hide her expression.
She slowly puts her clothes and kit away, clearly taking as much time as possible to do so. He'd grin if this whole thing wasn't so damned painful. She tosses her hair back for just a moment as she tucks her jeans in the bag and he gets a glimpse of her face and grits his teeth. She's been crying. Damn it.
No longer willing to let this drag on, he stands and makes his way to her side. He sees her freeze, tension radiating from her. Sighing, he strokes her hair, tugging at her arm to pull her close to him. Leaning down, he kisses the top of her head and turns her into his arms. After a few seconds of clear surprise, she wraps her arms around his waist and buries her face in his chest.
He keeps stroking her hair, his other hand rubbing gently up and down her back. After a moment, he feels the tears wetting his shirt and the shudder in her shoulders. He closes his eyes and just holds her tighter, as he continues the soft stroking. He doesn't know where the quiet shushing sounds he's making came from, but he doesn't stop, just lets her cry, offering as much comfort as he can.
Finally, she starts to pull away a bit, wiping at her face. He doesn't let her go, but stretches to the bedside table to grab the cheap box of motel tissues. Handing her a few, he waits while she wipes her eyes and blows her nose.
She looks vaguely embarrassed as she crumples the tissues and tosses them in the trash. "Sorry about your shirt," she murmurs, waving a hand at his wet chest.
A snort is his only reply before he takes her hand and leads her to the bed. Pulling back the covers, he jerks his head, and she climbs in. He tucks her in before climbing in on the other side. He hesitates for only a moment, but the tension in her shoulders convinces him easily and he wraps himself around her. She relaxes immediately into him, and it's not long before he hears her breathing even out as she falls into an exhausted sleep.
Well, at least he got that right, he thinks as he drifts off. He doesn't think about what tomorrow might bring.
~~SPN~~
Sophia knows he's awake, but he hasn't opened his eyes. Hasn't tried to watch her as she dresses and puts her hair up in a ponytail. She appreciates the gesture, but knows she needs to earn his trust after what she did yesterday.
Leaning over him, she kisses his forehead. His eyes flutter open as if he's just awakened and she gives him a small smile. "I'm going to get us some breakfast. I'll be back in 30." His deep green eyes, completely alert, meet hers and he nods. Swallowing hard, she touches his cheek and turns to leave before her emotions overwhelm her again.
After a quick trip for sandwiches and coffee from the cafe down the street, she taps at the motel room door with her boot, trying not to drop the food and drinks as she does.
Dean opens the door and snickers as he watches her juggle the bags and drink tray.
"You could help, you know," she snipes, sliding past him and into the room.
"More fun to see if you're going to make a mess or not." He shuts the door behind her and leans against it, arms folded, watching her ease everything down onto the small table by the window.
She rolls her eyes at him and pulls the handful napkins she'd grabbed out of her pocket, tossing them on the table. "You'll think so when you don't have any coffee to drink because I spilled it all over the floor."
"Good point," he concedes, but doesn't move from his spot against the door.
She feels his eyes on her and fritters with the napkins some more before adjusting the coffee tray for the third time.
"Come here."
Her gaze flies to his face, but he keeps his eyes lowered. Her feet move before she can try to interpret what he's thinking and she finds herself in front of him without quite being sure how she got there. Her eyes focus on the center of his t-shirt, not really seeing it, but not knowing where else to look. Her fingers curl against her hip instead of reaching for him as they seem to want to.
What seems like both an eternity and an instant passes before she feels his hand on her chin, tilting her face to his. Before she can process what she sees in his gaze, his lips are on hers and his hand has slipped around to cup the back of her head, pulling her closer.
She opens to him without thought, humming softly as his tongue slides against hers. She doesn't stop her fingers this time when they reach for him, tangling in the sides of his shirt, tugging her against him fully.
After what's definitely not nearly long enough, he drags his mouth from hers, breathing hard. He catches her gaze and she feels his fingers tighten convulsively in her hair. "Don't ever," he murmurs, "do that again, Sophia."
The pain and fear she sees in his eyes make her swallow hard, choking her. She can't find any words, just nods, her hand sliding up to cover his heart.
After a long moment, he nods once before his arms tighten around her and he buries his face in her neck for an instant before releasing her. Clearing his throat, he says, "Did you let Sam know about the food yet?"
Before she can reply, there's a knock at the door and he shakes his head with a laugh. "At least he didn't interrupt this time," he mutters before pulling the door open and stepping away. "Morning, Sammy."
Sophia snickers, but it's cut off by Sam's bear hug. Tears pricking again, she hugs him back, whispering, "I'm sorry, Sam."
He pulls back and looks at her, eyes searching her face, then his brother's. At Dean's nod, he lets her go, swallowing hard, with a gentle squeeze of her hand.
Sophia almost chokes on the lump in her throat, but pushes down the emotion and gestures toward the table with a trembling smile. "I got food and coffee, boys, better get it while it's still hot."
Sam drops into one of the side chairs and picks through the sandwiches. "Is there a…" he begins, but she interrupts.
"A Canadian bacon and egg? Yes, dear, there's two of them."
Dean takes the opposite chair and reaches for the second bag. "Spoil him like that and he's going to think he's entitled," he grumps.
"It's not my fault she likes me better," Sam mumbles around a huge bite of the sandwich.
Stifling a giggle, Sophia takes the last seat. "Alright, children, just enjoy the hot meal, huh?"
The food is dispatched quickly and quietly. Wiping his mouth with one of the crumpled paper napkins, Sam eyes Sophia and his brother cautiously.
Sophia sighs, and leans back in the chair, both hands wrapped around the paper coffee cup. "It's alright, Sam, I'm not going to make you ask." She closes her eyes, gathering her thoughts. "It started with that book that fell off the shelf in the university library…"