-/-
John stole a glance across the cab of the truck at his youngest son, who was silently staring out the window. He was pleased at how the morning had gone so far. Adam was properly polite, respectful and obedient during their time at the police station. It was a load off John's mind to know that he could take Adam out onto these types of interviews without having to worry about his son shooting off at the mouth and blowing their cover.
And Adam had done a great job with the interrogation too. John was relieved to see that apparently the boy had been paying attention to at least one thing his brothers were teaching him. Maybe dealing with the human element of hunting cases would be more in Adam's wheelhouse, since he was still falling embarrassingly short on the supernatural end of things.
Thinking of the human element reminded John of where they were headed. This would be Adam's first trip to the morgue, although John knew, not his first time seeing a dead body.
John sighed deeply to himself, doubting his decision to bring Adam in to see the victim. Part of him realized that Adam would need to get used to this unpleasant side of hunting and that this case would be a good stepping stone. The other part of him, the fatherly side that still worried about his child, reminded him that Adam was only 13 and the last dead body he had seen was his own mother's on the day she died.
John looked over at his son once again, glancing at his still childlike features. Had Sam ever looked this innocent? Had Dean? He honestly couldn't remember. It seemed like his older boys had grown up with a hardness in their eyes that Adam didn't yet have. Yes, Adam had a deep-seated sadness that lingered, but not the jaded edge that he'd seen staring back at him from the backseat of the Impala all these years. It probably shouldn't have been a surprise. Dean, traumatized as a preschooler and burdened with responsibility beyond his years, had developed a suspicious stare that questioned anyone not in his immediate family. And Sam had been an old soul from the time he was born. Even as in infant John and Mary would joke that baby Sam was working out the problems of the world as he furrowed his tiny forehead and studied everyone with a thoughtful gaze and skeptical eyes.
Having grown up in a stable home with Kate, Adam was less broken then his older boys and for that John was infinitely thankful. At least Adam was given 12 years of normal before being tossed into the unforgiving world where the Winchesters now lived.
But that also caused problems.
Adam was soft. He was sensitive. He was out of shape and unable to protect himself from the things that would target him just for his name. All John really wanted was what was best for his boys. And now seeing how defenseless Adam was, he wondered if leaving him and Kate alone in their apple pie life was really the kindness he thought it was. If John had manned up, if he had told Kate the truth, if he had taken them away and on the road with Sam and Dean maybe she'd still be alive, maybe Adam would be better prepared, hell maybe Sam and Dean wouldn't be so damaged if Kate had been able to raise them.
John grimaced and pushed away the thoughts. It didn't matter now. Kate was gone. Adam was here. Sam and Dean were what they were. And it was all John's doing.
For a man who spent his life trying to fight all the bad in the world, he sure did a hell of a lot of bad himself.
He was right to bring Adam into the morgue, he decided. He'd have to prep the kid and be as understanding as he could about Adam's reaction, but better the boy take this step with his father by his side then alone later. The short lifespan of hunters weighed heavily on John most days and forced him to push his sons harder than he would have liked in their training. The thought of leaving them alone and vulnerable made John physically ill and he spent most of his time trying to control the lingering fear.
"Adam, you know where we're going?" John asked, testing the waters to see what Adam's reaction might be.
"Yes sir. The county morgue,"
John nodded in approval; "I spoke to the medical examiner yesterday. She said the full autopsy report would be available today."
Adam nodded seriously taking in his father's words.
Hating himself a little more than he already did, John pushed on.
"We're gonna take a look at the victim," he said, glancing away from the road to watch Adam's reaction.
Adam looked unfazed and nodded, "Ok."
Great, John thought with a sigh. Kid has no clue what he's getting into.
"It's gonna be a little different than seeing the crime scene photos," John pressed, trying to make his point clear, "and its not gonna be like tv,"
"Yeah I know," Adam said simply, brushing off his Dad's serious tone.
John frowned and ran a hand behind his neck, rubbing the taut muscles there. He didn't really know another way to try to prepare his boy for what he was going to see and how he might feel. He thought about pressing harder, trying to explain more to make Adam understand, but in the end he couldn't find the words.
"Ok then," John said with finality as they pulled into the parking lot of the coroner's office, a small stand-alone building adjacent to the county's health department. John appreciated when the morgue was in its own building, often times he'd find himself in the basement of the office of public health or searching the hallways of the emergency management office looking for the coroner.
John killed the engine in the truck and pulled out the key, leaning over and grabbing his suit coat from next to his son.
"Adam…" he started.
"Yeah. Yeah. I know," Adam said briskly, cutting him off, "Eyes open, mouth shut." He said as he opened the door and jumped down out of the cab.
John scowled at his boy's attitude, mentally adding another line in the tally of disrespect he'd endured from Adam this morning. One more and he'd be adding lines the boy's backside before they were on their way back to the motel. God, if Adam was this mouthy as a pre-teen, what the hell was John in for when he was a full-fledged teenager? John shook his head at the frightening thought of having another Sam Winchester on his hands, before opening his own door and sliding out of the truck.
Adam glanced at the short, plain brick building with disinterest. For as excited as he was to tag along to the police station and watch an interrogation, he was as equally not excited to visit the morgue.
He wasn't nervous about seeing the victim. He'd seen plenty of the weird crap that Dad and his brothers had killed when he was helping to burn or bury the remains. And as much as he was interested in medicine and hoped to be a doctor one day, he just couldn't bring himself to be excited about seeing a dead body. He knew he wanted to become a doctor to help people, there wasn't a whole lot you could do to help an already dead person.
What Adam really wanted to do was go back and talk to more people: the suspect's friends, the victim's friends, the bartender. He wanted to go and see the crime scene. All the cool badass stuff they did on tv. Talking to the medical examiner was always some dumb plot device in the shows that he and Dean watched. Adam just wanted to get back to investigating. He wanted to see Dad be bad cop, see him intimidate people and force them into admitting the truth. He wanted to see Dad be tough, not all soft and sweet like he was back at the police station. Dad was supposed to be a badass. He should be throwing people around an interrogation room, demanding answers and yelling orders like he did with Adam and his brothers. It would sure as hell make Adam feel a lot better if he did.
They were probably wasting their time here anyway. The shapeshifter could be anyone, if it was even still in town. And as far as Adam was concerned looking at the victim and reading the autopsy report wasn't gonna help them track the killer any faster.
Adam trailed after his father, anger and resentment over Dad's tactics in the interrogation room bubbling back up inside his chest despite his earlier attempts to brush it off. As they opened the door into the front lobby of the county coroner's office Adam's senses were overloaded with the acrid scent of ammonia and strong cleaning chemicals.
"Ugh," he grumbled sourly, unable to help himself and earning a deep scowl from his father.
The place looked exactly like every other government building Adam had been in lately. Plain and unadorned except for the lazily chosen, absolutely out of place artwork on the walls: one a framed print of a faded garden scene, the other a light blue print in a white frame of a ship sailing calm seas into the sunset, neither of which looked like they belonged in an office building, much less the morgue.
There was no one at the main desk of the room, only a small note taped haphazardly to the counter, telling the reader to pick up the phone and dial 2 for assistance.
Dad read the note and casually picked up the receiver dialing the required number, giving his fake name and requesting to see the medical examiner. A few moments later a now somewhat familiar robotic buzz sounded and Dad lead Adam through a door to the left of the lobby desk and down a short hallway.
"The body's still in the exam room. They are prepping it to send to the funeral home," Dad explained as they walked.
Adam nodded, feeling a sudden twist in his gut that he didn't expect. His heart began to race and he unconsciously slowed his steps.
John noticed his son's slow pace and cut his eyes to the side, taking stock of the boy.
Adam had been fine until he mentioned the exam room, or maybe it was the mention of the funeral home that got him. The boy had gone pale, his small smattering of freckles now standing out across his nose.
"Adam…" John said calmly, pausing in the hallway. "You're ok."
John watched as Adam's breathing became more rapid and sweat began to rise against his hairline.
It was the ropes all over again.
Training Adam on escape methods had been a long, miserable experience for all the Winchester men. Anytime John would hold the boy's wrists and start winding the rope Adam damn near looked like he was gonna pass out. It was only with weeks of training that John had been able to drive Adam to overcome his fear.
John turned and stepped in front of his son, leaning down and gently grabbing the boy by the chin, forcing him to look up and meet his father's eyes.
"You….are….ok." John repeated again slowly, "Just breathe."
Adam swallowed hard and took in a shaky breath, nodding slightly in his father's hold.
John studied his boy and suddenly decided there was no reason to force Adam to go into the room to see the body. He could stand in the hallway outside, looking through the large glass window just as he had done at the police station. There was no reason that John had to force him to be up close and personal with something that was no doubt gonna give the kid nightmares again. He knew Sam and Dean would certainly appreciate not being woken up to screaming at 3 am for the foreseeable future.
"Adam…" John started softly, struggling to find the words to comfort his son.
"Agent?" came a call from down the hallway, interrupting John's thoughts.
Frowning, John turned away from his frightened boy and pasted a pleasant smile on his face, sliding easily back into his role. He turned to face a young woman, brown hair pinned back into a low bun at her neck, her white lab coat rusting in the breeze she created as she walked towards him down the hallway.
"Yes, Agent Henely," John confirmed, reaching into his breast pocket with experienced effortlessness to pull out and flash the badge that Dean had made for him three days earlier.
"I'm Danielle Hines, the pathology assistant," she said, reaching a hand out.
John took her hand with a polite shake, trying to ignore Adam's soft, strangled breathing behind him.
"I'm here to see Dr. Stamper," he said, "She said the Hill autopsy report would be ready today,"
"Oh sure," the young lady replied with a smile, "Dr. Stamper is out today, but I can get the report for you,"
John nodded agreeably, thankful for the woman's compliance. With Adam freaking out in the background, John was not prepared to put on the full song and dance routine he sometimes had to perform if his qualifications were questioned.
"The body is in examine one," the woman said, turning and gesturing to the door closest behind them. "I was just finishing up in there, so it's available if you want to take a look,"
"That'd be great," John said with another nod of approval.
Hearing a deep, shaky breathe from behind him, John realized he had yet to explain his son's presence to the assistant.
"Oh, I'm sorry," he said with a charismatic smile, "How rude of me. This is my son Adam. He's been tagging along with me today on the case. He's writing a paper for school for career day, but I think this part of the job might have him a little rattled."
John watched as Danielle tilted her head to look behind John where Adam was still standing, frozen to the spot.
"Oh, I understand." She said with a sweet smile, "This place can be pretty overwhelming. I can take him back out to the lobby if that would help,"
John debated, not liking the idea of leaving Adam alone for any amount of time in a town where a monster was on the loose, but a quick look down at his pale and trembling son broke his resolve to keep Adam anywhere near the victim.
"I think that's probably for the best," he said, eyes still on Adam.
The young woman smiled again and moved toward Adam, leaving John a clear path to the exam room.
"I'll just take him up there and then I'll grab that report for you," she said.
John nodded again and watched as the woman placed a gentle hand on Adam's shoulder and led him back down the hallway towards the double doors of the lobby.
Adam only distantly realized what was happening. He was walking again. He knew that much. But his vision was still blacking out around the edges and the blood was still pumping loudly in his ears, making it hard for him to make out the inane chatter of the lady beside him.
As the doors of the lobby opened, the harsh scent of chemicals shook Adam from his daze and he realized that Dad was no longer with him.
"My… uh… dad?" he questioned in confusion.
"He's got a little work to do back there. He'll be out soon," the young woman said gently, studying Adam.
"Yeah…" Adam said, nodding as she led him over to a collection of three chairs under the misplaced sailboat picture.
"I know this place can be a little much," she said, gesturing for him to sit and sitting down in one of the other seats.
Adam just nodded dumbly, becoming aware that his head was starting to feel normal, not like it was going to float off his shoulders like it had a few moments ago.
"So your Dad is FBI huh?" the woman said, "Seems like a neat job."
Adam shrugged; his focus more on calming the rolling that still had his stomach on edge then whatever this lady wanted to chat about.
"Does that mean you aren't from around here?" she asked.
"No," Adam answered, watching the tiles on the floor with interest, hoping that the harder he concentrated on them the less likely he'd be to barf all over them.
"So where are you from?" the lady asked politely.
"Nowhere." Adam said, still staring hard at the floor, intently focusing on the small flecks of color within each tile.
"Nowhere?" she asked in disbelief.
The surprise in her voice awoke Adam from his stupor and he blinked and looked at her, "Sorry, no I'm from Minnesota,"
"Oh, pretty cold there."
"Yeah…." Adam mumbled, turning back to the floor and wishing she'd just go already.
"Do you have any siblings?" she asked conversationally, leaning toward Adam and trying to catch his eye.
"Yeah. Two big brothers," Adam answered with disinterest, starting to count the little colored flecks within the tiles.
"Guess they are back in Minnesota?" the lady asked.
"Huh?" Adam said looking up at her and all of a sudden noticing how intently she was studying him.
"Your brothers? Are they in Minnesota? Or are there here?" she said, pushing a little.
Ok. That's a weird question, Adam thought. "Uh, no they're in college." he easily lied.
"That's nice," the woman said, returning to her polite conversational tone, "So just you and your Dad here then huh? That's kinda fun."
"Yeah…" Adam replied skeptically, beginning to forget the nausea that was lingering in his stomach. This lady was acting weird. She looked totally normal, maybe a little nerdy, but now that Adam was paying attention it seemed like she was nervous.
The lady cleared her throat abruptly as if sensing Adam's unease "Well I ought to go and get that report for your dad. Don't wanna keep the FBI waiting."
"Yeah…" Adam said again, studying her as she smoothed her hair, tucking a wayward strand back behind her ear and standing up quickly, straightening her shirt and lab coat.
Adam watched as she hurried away, taking one last scrutinizing look at him before swiping a key card that was attached to her lab coat at the double doors next to the lobby desk.
Weirdo. Adam thought, rolling his eyes and going back to counting the floor tiles. At least the lady's strangeness had distracted Adam's brain from the stomach-churning panic that immobilized him in the hallway. He was still feeling edgy though, tense and jittery as the unneeded adrenaline reabsorbed back into his body. Dad better hurry up. Adam was ready to get out of this damn place.
When Adam was on tile fleck 3,225 the lock on the double doors finally clicked and he looked up to see Dad striding toward him, a new manila folder in hand and an ill-tempered frown on his face.
Great. Adam thought. Guess that went well.
He silently followed Dad out to the truck, but before he could touch the door to open it he felt a soft, heavy hand on his shoulder.
"Hey," Dad said, gently turning him around, "You ok now?"
Adam swallowed. The panic was gone and the jitteriness it left behind had finally subsided, but he was still feeling a strange ache of discomfort that he couldn't explain.
"Yeah," he lied, "I'm fine."
If he had learned nothing else from his brothers, it was that more often than not it was better to man up, shake it off and shut the hell up about it.
"Alright," Dad said, staring at him in a way that made Adam believe that he probably knew Adam wasn't really fine, but he didn't want to get into it. Maybe it was Dad being nice, trying not to butt into Adam's business or push him if he didn't want to open up, but it felt a lot more like Dad being glad he didn't have to deal with Adam's drama.
Dad reached around him and opened the truck door for him, ushering him inside before walking around to open his own door.
Adam watched as Dad took off his suit coat and threw it across the bench seat, the arm of the jacket landing causally across Adam's lap. Dad took a moment to put the manila envelope he'd been carrying down on the seat, leaning into the cab a little bit.
"Adam," he asked his voice low and quiet, as he leaned in moving the folder from the seat to the floor, "Is she at the window?"
Adam knew instantly that "she" was the assistant they'd met and he quickly looked up, sure enough seeing just a sliver of white hovering on one side of the front window of the medical examiner's building.
He looked down and away, back to the manila folder Dad still had a hand on, "Yeah she is,"
Dad continued to casually get settled. He stood in the open door of the truck and slowly rolled up one of his shirt sleeves, taking his time, "I'm gonna keep talking to you," he said, "talk to me, but watch her."
"Ok," Adam said, nervously shifting in his seat a little, keeping the front window in his peripheral vision.
"You wanna get lunch?" Dad said in a louder, but more normal voice.
Adam just shrugged his disinterest as he watched the woman's head poke out a little at the sound of Dad's question.
"I know this was a lot for you Adam," Dad continued, taking his time to unbutton the cuff of his shirt sleeve, "but you are really doing a great job."
Wait. What?
Immediately Adam's focus shifted from the woman in the window and he zeroed in on his father, not believing what he was hearing.
Dad's eyes were hard as he looked directly back at Adam and Adam knew Dad was telepathing him to keep focused on the woman, but he didn't want to, not when Dad was saying things he'd never thought he'd hear.
"Maybe we could find a decent taco joint around here huh?" Dad continued, his voice soft and natural, more Agent Henley then John Winchester. "Or maybe burgers? It's whatever you want kiddo,"
Adam fought to keep a neutral expression on top of the shock and disbelief of Dad's kind words. This was the way he used to talk. This was the Dad that Adam remembered from his childhood visits. When it was all "hey kiddo," and "up to you sport," nothing like the perpetually tired, grumpy, impatient man he'd been living with for the past year. Adam couldn't remember the last time that Dad had asked his opinion on anything, even something as mundane as what he wanted to eat. Maybe it was being the last in a line of growing boys, but Adam's wants on what meal they might eat came well down the line of what Sam or Dean wanted and he usually had to fight pretty hard for it. And even then Dad would lay down the law before an argument got heated, deciding abruptly what they'd eat and ending whatever dispute had started, regardless of what any boy wanted.
Dad narrowed his eyes slightly at Adam, a move that would have been indiscernible from a distance, but was strong enough to snap Adam back to the job at hand. Not moving his head or body, Adam cut his eyes to the side and watched the front window of the building, where the assistant still stood, one eye peeking out and watching them.
"I don't care, Dad," Adam said, remembering to keep up the ruse and answer his father's question.
Dad had finished rolling up his sleeves and nodded, "Let's go and see what we can find then," he answered, stepping up into the truck and slamming the door.
Adam now turned in his seat to face the building, feeling blindly for his seatbelt as he watched the woman duck back out of sight.
Dad started the Sierra with a roar and clicked his own seatbelt into place. His eyes still glued to the window, Adam absently fiddled with the truck window, pretending to roll it down while Dad backed the truck out of the parking spot.
Dad pulled out of the parking lot slowly and Adam caught another glimpse of the lady's face and the edge of her white coat from his side mirror as they pulled away.
"Why's she watching us Dad?" he finally asked as they turned onto the main road.
"I'm not sure son," Dad answered distractedly, looking back at the building in his rearview mirror, "but I know we sure as hell aren't gonna stop watching her,"
"Huh?"
Dad didn't answer, instead kept an eye on the building as they drove slowly away, taking the first available right turn.
Suddenly, Dad pulled the truck over and stopped, "Hop out." He ordered.
"What?" Adam asked, stunned at the command.
"Get out." Dad said, with a steely look that left no room for disobedience "Walk back toward the morgue. Stay out of sight. Call me if she leaves the building. We need eyes on her."
"Me?" Adam squeaked in frightened disbelief.
"You're wasting time. Go. Now." Dad said, his voice deep and hurried.
"Ok. Ok," Adam said in confusion, hurrying to unfasten his seatbelt with one hand and opening the truck door with the other.
He slid down out of the truck and stood in the grass at the side of the road, closing the door just before Dad pulled off. Adam stood dumbly at the side of the road, staring as Dad's truck faded into the distance. As the shock started to recede, his heart began to race and the adrenaline that had faded away rushed back with such force that his knees almost buckled.
Clenching his fists and gritting his teeth Adam tried to channel Dean. Dean wouldn't be scared to be alone. Dean would just do what Dad said. 'Dad has a reason', Dean would say, 'Dad will come back'.
Please God let Dad come back, Adam thought, feeling his stomach clench with fear.
Fighting his own terror Adam decided he had to follow Dean's advice and follow Dad's orders. It's not like he had a better idea anyway. He swallowed his nerves and turned back in the direction of the county morgue. After a few feet he was able to see the back of the building and he hustled to get closer, staying near the tree line in the back of the building.
-/-/
John didn't want to leave Adam on watch. He didn't want the boy alone at all. But the chips were down and as much as he hated it, Adam was his partner on this case and they needed a new ride if they were going to be able to keep tabs on that squirrely assistant.
John started hearing the hunter alarm bells ringing when she brought him that report. Something about the way she talked about the victim, the way she looked at the body. There was something up and John had a sneaking suspicion that the shapeshifter-lover-done-wrong was standing right in front of him.
He had to be sure though. He couldn't outright test the woman since all he had with him was his silver knife and as charming and charismatic as he might be, he doubted there was a way he could pull a knife and not send the woman screaming, shapeshifter or not.
He kicked himself for letting this potential monster be alone with his son. He should have trusted his gut, but the kid's ashen, panicked face concerned him and John knew that Adam needed to get out of that hallway before he had a full-blown episode.
Right now though he had to get a car and get back to his kid as fast as he could. John's pulse thumped in his throat as he found a busy fast food restaurant, parking in the back and ditching his truck, taking only moments to grab a few things from the bed he hoped he wouldn't need. He jogged away from the truck, scanning the nearby store parking lots and settling on a beige sedan parked under a tree. It was likely the car of an employee of the Quick n Stop. Only people who knew their car would be there all day would bother to park so far away from the door of the store and under a tree, so the car probably wouldn't be missed until a lot later in the day, a fact John was counting on when he popped the lock and hotwired it.
Nearly shaking with the need to get eyes back on his son, John raced back to the county morgue, slowing to the speed limit when he reached the road it was on. He slowed down and watched the area around the building, searching for Adam. Part of him was relieved that his son was not in plain sight, satisfied that his boy was learning some of the hunter's skills he so desperately needed. But not seeing Adam right away also lodged a stone of fear in John's throat and made him grip the wheel of the sedan so tightly he hoped it wouldn't snap.
He parked the car several buildings down from the morgue and casually walked behind the building, making his way into the trees and scrub that lined the area. He hurried through the underbrush, scanning the trees until he saw the back of Adam's blonde head leaning against a tree.
Quietly working his way up to the boy, he whistled lowly, hoping to get Adam's attention without startling him.
Adam perked up at the familiar sound of the Winchester whistle. Dad had taught him the family whistle early on, instructing him of the importance of being able to communicate without words. At the time he was interested, but confused as to why he'd need to learn to identify whistles and code words and hand gestures, but now standing in the underbrush nervously staring at a brick building for reasons he didn't understand, he was glad he paid attention.
Dad waved for Adam to come and Adam obeyed, following Dad back to the nearby parking lot and an unfamiliar car.
"Dad?" Adam questioned warily as they approached the sedan Adam didn't recognize.
"Not now Adam," Dad said, striding over to the car and getting in like this was the car he got into and drove to work every day, not just one that appeared randomly.
Adam realized his mouth was hanging open in shock and he quickly clamped his jaw shut, biting down on all the fear and confusion that was swirling around him.
He opened the sedan door and slid in, grabbing the seatbelt and clicking it home before realizing that Dad was fiddling under the steering wheel of the car. He watched closely as Dad grabbed two frayed wires and easily rubbed them together causing the car to rumble to life.
It took a moment for Adam to realize that he just watched his father hotwire a car. It's not something he was expecting to see. Although he'd been faced with all the crazy things John Winchester could do as part of his responsibility as a hunter, Adam never pictured hotwiring a car to be one of them. Dads aren't supposed to know how to do that. Why did Dad know how to do that?
Dad caught Adam watching his movements under the dash and gave a nod, "I'll teach you," he said with a reassuring half smile.
Adam couldn't respond. He was still reconciling the idea that John Winchester, hunter, was not the same person as John Winchester, Dad.
With the stolen car started, Dad drove them back toward the morgue, scouting the area and finding a place across the street and partially behind a light pole and newspaper stand where he finally parked and shut the car off.
Adam was desperate to know what was going on, why they were in a stolen car, why Dad decided they needed to stalk this lady and why Adam had been dumped on the side of the street.
"Dad?" Adam questioned quietly, hesitant that his questions might somehow make Dad mad at him again.
"You didn't see her leave the building right?" Dad asked, not looking at Adam as he searched the building, ignoring Adam's questioning.
"No sir," Adam responded, "I didn't see her at all."
Adam looked back at the county morgue building. It was just as boring and lackluster as it had been the first time he'd seen it, but now he searched the plain brick walls trying to see whatever it was that made Dad so anxious.
"I don't understand. What are we doing? Why do we have this car?" Adam asked, trying to keep the petulant pleading from his voice.
Dad still didn't look at him, "Surveillance son. That assistant was as squirrelly as anyone I've ever seen. I don't trust her. I'm not letting her out of my sight until I know for sure she's human."
"Oh." Adam responded. "How long will that take?"
Dad tore his eyes away from the building to frown at Adam, "As long as it takes."
"Oh." Adam said dejectedly, "So… we just sit here?
"Yeah son." Dad said, with an edge of frustration in his voice. "We sit here and watch. We make sure she doesn't leave. And if she does leave, we follow her."
A light bulb suddenly went off in Adam's head, "That's why you got this car? So she doesn't recognize us?" he asked.
"Yeah," Dad confirmed. "My truck is too damn conspicuous to be tailing someone. We needed something that would blend in."
Adam nodded in approval of his father's words. Damn Dad was smart.
"And you'll teach me to steal cars?" Adam asked excitedly, suddenly realizing he was finally seeing some of the badass Dad he so desperately wanted.
Again Dad broke his stare of the building for a moment to grimace at Adam's excitement, before turning back, speaking more to the windshield than his son.
"This is not a game Adam. It's very real. Life or death. I'll teach you to hotwire a car because you might need to get away someday. Not so you can steal cars for joyrides or to impress your friends. Everything I teach you is to prepare you for your life. You're a hunter. The more you know, the longer you'll live. If you don't learn, if you don't pay attention, it all ends. And it ends bad."
The crushing weight of his father's words stole Adam's momentary excitement and left him with a deep-seated melancholy, one that seemed to appear all too often in his life these days.
It was silent in the car for a long time, until the soft pit-pat of raindrops began to fall on the hood of the car, spotting the windshield with moisture.
"Dad?" Adam asked, wishing he didn't have to, "I gotta take a leak."
"Ok. Go." Dad said, giving him a quick sideways glance.
"Uh… where?"
Dad nodded to the grassy spot between the newspaper stands and telephone pole in front of the car.
"Are you serious?" Adam asked in surprise. He wasn't squeamish about taking a piss outside, but in the rain, in the middle of a parking lot?
"Just stay behind the pole." Dad said, "Stay out of the sightlines of the morgue."
Adam just shook his head at Dad's 'helpful' suggestion. If he didn't think he was about two minutes from pissing his pants, he wouldn't have even asked.
"There might be an empty bottle in the back seat you could use if you want," Dad offered.
"No." Adam answered immediately. As much as he didn't wanna stand in the rain, exposed, he sure as hell didn't wanna whip it out and try to pee in a bottle in front of his Dad.
Stifling a sigh of annoyance Adam opened the door and got out, trying to stay inconspicuous and in the area that was hidden. He quickly made his way to the pole and after a quick glance around to ensure they were mostly alone in the parking lot, he unzipped and let go.
Of course that was the moment she walked out the front door of the building. Of course it was.
Mid-stream Adam ducked behind the telephone pole, frantically tucking himself back in and glancing at Dad's surprised face behind the wheel of the stolen sedan.
Dad only looked at Adam for a fraction of a second before his eyes were back on the morgue assistant and he was motioning for Adam to get down and crawl back to the car. Adam gave a curt nod and again thanked his past self for memorizing all the complicated military hand signals he'd been taught.
On hands and knees, Adam was hidden from view by the low metal newspaper stands and he was able to quickly make his way back to the car, keeping himself in a tight crouch as he let a hand go up to grab the door handle and open the car door just an inch to climb inside.
Dad already had his hands under the dash and quickly got the car started, his eyes never leaving his target. Adam followed Dad's stare and saw the young woman, her white coat across one arm as she walked towards a small blue car and got in.
Adam could feel his father's urgency and tension as they sat stock-still, watching as the woman started the car and pulled out of the parking lot.
"Dad!" Adam said, watching as the car drove away, "Follow her!"
Dad continued to stare down the road, his eyes intently focused on the little blue car, "Just a minute Adam."
"What? Why? Come on!" Adam screeched frantically.
"Hush boy!" Dad snapped.
Adam was bouncing uncontrollably in his seat, just wanting Dad to go, go, go.
Finally, Dad did back out of the parking spot and hastily pulled on to the main road, following the blue car which was now four cars in front of them, stopped at a red light.
"What the hell Dad?" Adam cried in annoyance "We're gonna lose her!"
"Boy." Dad cautioned, in a voice so deep and stern it instantly reminded Adam who he was talking to.
"We aren't gonna lose her." Dad said. His voice was firm and calm. The complete opposite of the frenzied, wild panic and excitement that was running through Adam right now, "When you tail somebody you always stay three or four cars back. If you're right up on their ass they're gonna know pretty damn quick they're being followed,"
Oh.
"Where do you think she's going?" Adam asked, more in awe of his father and his skills then he'd ever been before.
"Guess we'll see," Dad said, eyes still locked on the blue car and keeping a healthy distance between them.
They followed the assistant's little blue car for several miles, riding in a tense silence as they both stared down the vehicle.
"I don't believe it." Dad whispered in astonishment, as they made a left hand turn.
"What?" Adam asked, anticipation and fear making his voice crack.
"She's going to the victim's house." Dad said, taking an abrupt right turn that put them into a small neighborhood.
"Dad! She's going that way!" Adam said, pointing down the opposite street.
"I know boy!" Dad ground out, "We're parking behind the house!"
Oh. Yeah. That makes sense.
Dad sped up and whipped down the neighborhood streets, stopping suddenly behind a house Adam's didn't recognize from the crime scene photos.
"Got your knife?" Dad said, momentarily stopping his wild movements to look directly at Adam.
"Uh-huh." Adam nodded, feeling for the knife he kept hidden in the pocket of his sweat jacket.
Dad gave a terse nod and instantly became a blur of movement again. He threw open the car door, jumping out and opening the back door in what seemed like the same move. He grabbed something Adam couldn't see and slammed the door again.
"Come on." He demanded, and Adam realized he was still sitting motionless in the front seat with his seatbelt on.
Adam hurried to undo his seatbelt and opened the door, tumbling out of the car in his haste and landing hard on the pavement.
"Come on boy!" Dad said aggravated, suddenly beside him and gruffly pulling him up by one arm and handing him a bigger silver knife.
Dad hurried between the lawns of two of the neighborhood houses, harshly whispering to Adam as they ran.
"I don't know for sure it's her," he said, scanning the area as they rushed through the grass, "But you never show up unprepared. Keep that knife hidden until we know. Remember silver to the heart,"
Adam tried to stay close to Dad, mirroring his movements and scanning the area around the houses, even though he didn't know what Dad was looking around for. Suddenly Dad stopped short and ducked behind a tree grabbing Adam by the collar of his shirt and pulling him behind as well.
"Goddamn it," Dad said under his breath and Adam leaned around to see what had caused his father to curse.
At first he couldn't comprehend what he was seeing. His brain saw the image, but he couldn't process it; it just didn't make sense.
He knew he saw the back of the house. His brain recognized the garage and its open door, the normal, everyday contents of garage stuff lining the walls. He understood that he saw the morgue assistant lady standing in the garage, gazing around at the stored items. But when he saw a pair of woman's legs, sticking out from beside a tall toolbox his brain started to short out. His eyes followed the legs until he saw the whole person. Bloody and motionless, propped up against the wall, brown hair long and loose. He knew he was seeing her, seeing the real her, the real person who was the morgue assistant. When he looked back at the person…no…not person… standing in the middle of the garage he got a little dizzy. It was the most surreal sensation he'd ever felt, even more strange then when he'd touched that ghost. Being haunted by a ghost was a visceral experience, one he felt in his bones, but this was beyond strange. Like waking up inside a horror movie, unsure of what was really possible.
"Dad…." Adam whispered, his heart racing and his hands starting to tremble.
"Stay here Adam." Dad ordered, his eyes trained on what Adam now knew was a shapeshifter in pathology assistant's clothing.
Adam gulped in fear as Dad stepped out from behind the tree and began to stealthily wind his way to the garage where the monster was still standing, longingly admiring the contents of the garage. Gathering his courage Adam peeked out from behind the tree to watch his father, terrified of what he might see but even more scared of not seeing it.
Dad was cautious as he approached the house, silently moving between the bushes and ending up on the outside of the garage. Adam watched as Dad scanned the surroundings once more, locking eyes with Adam just for a moment before he slipped into the open garage, large silver knife in hand.
The lady…no… the monster… noticed Dad immediately and stepped back, glaring at him.
Due to the distance, Adam couldn't quite make out the words she spat at Dad, but he could see the hatred burning in her eyes. Adam watched as Dad tentatively stepped further into the garage, causing the shapeshifter to take another step backward while she glared at him.
Adam's pulse was racing, hands sweating and shaking watching Dad and the shapeshifter circle each other dramatically. With a swiftness Adam didn't expect the shifter dove to the side, away from Dad and toward one wall of the garage covered in garden tools. She yanked down a long pointed shovel and pointed it warily at Dad, saying something to him that Adam couldn't make out.
Dad was unmoved by whatever it was she said though, he was still poised to lunge, knife held loosely in his right hand, his left open with his palm out, ready to grab the shovel when she swung at him.
Adam scoured his brain, trying to remember everything he knew about shapeshifters. Where they extra strong? Or fast? He couldn't remember. Damn! He had to start paying attention to this shit!
Suddenly the shifter surprised both Adam and John by throwing the shovel at John instead of swinging. John ducked and avoided being hit as the shifter turned and grabbed another tool from the wall, a long rake that she swung as John came up from his crouch.
John ducked again, the pointed end of the rake narrowly missing his cheek. He dove forward and slashed, missing as the shifter spun, grabbing more items from the garage shelves and throwing them indiscriminately. John continued to press forward toward her; ducking a watering can, a half-gallon of paint, paintbrushes and cans of oil all being thrown with a strength a 5'4 woman shouldn't have had.
Adam panted as he watched Dad and the woman fight in the garage. There were only a few steps between them and the woman was fighting for everything she was worth. If Adam hadn't known any better he would have thought Dad was the evil one in the fight. Dad ducked and dodged everything she threw, steadily keeping up his pursuit but not attacking right away like Adam expected.
Suddenly John lunged. He closed the distance between them instantly and grabbed the woman by her shoulder, flinging her around to face him. He raised his knife, aiming straight for the middle of her chest; the spot Adam knew would end this fight.
Adam caught the glint of reflection off the knife from the sun that had just started to peek out from behind the clouds that had hovered over them all morning. His breath caught in his throat as time seemed to slow as he watched the scene. Dad's face was red with fury and exertion, sweat beading on his eyebrows and rolling down the sides of his face. His teeth were bared in a snarl of malicious hatred that created a stone of fear in Adam's stomach and he wished he could unsee what he was about to witness.
Suddenly a blur of red and the knife was knocked from Dad's hand as he was hit in the side of the head with a brick.
SHIT!
Adam was running. Running toward Dad as he crumbled, weightless, dropping his hold on the woman.
Adam tightened his grip on the knife Dad had given him with his right hand as he ran, stuffing his left hand into his pocket and fumbling to grab his smaller silver knife. He stumbled over grass, dirt, running with all he had to get to Dad.
The shifter freed herself from Dad's hold where they had fallen together and stood up as Adam skidded into the garage, breathless and shaking.
The woman turned, "Hunter baby..." She cooed, disgust dripping from her voice.
"S…Stop." Adam demanded unsteadily, holding out both his knives and pointing them at her.
The woman glared at Adam for a moment, then eyed John's silver knife on the floor before reaching down to grab the handle.
Adam's eyes went wide at the move.
"S…s… silver?" Adam questioned, his voice weak and wobbly.
"Just burns a little baby hunter," she said sneeringly, "Worth it if it means getting rid of you two,"
Adam watched as she eyed Dad, still unconscious on the garage floor, bright red blood flowing from a large cut in his hairline.
Instantly Adam knew what she was going to do.
He felt her move before she actually did. She lifted her arm, ready to plunge the knife. Adam dove at her, leaping across the garage and tackling her, feeling the sharp end of Dad's knife hit his shoulder as they collided and hit the hard cement floor.
Rolling with her as they landed, Adam slashed with both hands, grunting and stabbing wildly. The woman was stronger than she looked and fought hard, making harsh stabs with John's knife and clawing at Adam's face and hair with her open hand. Adam struggled to stay on top of her, stabbing as hard as he could into her flesh, causing her to shriek in pain. Suddenly she punched hard with her free hand, catching him in the jaw and making him see stars. He flew back, nearly knocked off by the unexpected blow, but kept a tight grip on both knives and made a blind stab downward. He felt the knife hit bone, hard, and the force of it shuddered up his arm, making it tingle in pain. The blackness from her punch cleared and Adam saw that his hand was holding a knife hilt deep into the woman's right cheek, her eyes frozen wide in shock.
John came to with a start, head pounding and stomach rolling.
Adam.
He sat up immediately, causing blackness to cloud his vision again as he tried to force it away, his eyes searching desperately for his son.
Please God. Please. He begged, making himself move, despite the pain and nausea assailing him.
When the blackness cleared, he saw an image that would forever be carved into his mind's eye, one that would haunt him for years, making him question all his good intentions with his sons.
Adam, little Adam, who hadn't even hit the growth spurt that would have him stumbling around, all arms and legs for months, until he grew into the land of six feet plus where both his brothers lived. Adam, who only wanted to help people and dreamed of becoming a doctor to save lives, who this time last year didn't know a djinn from a witch, was sitting on the chest of a women, covered in blood, his eyes frantic and crazed, one hand hanging loosely at his side gripping his trusted small silver knife, the other… the other hand clenched tightly around the handle of the knife John had given him, lodged into the skull of the woman under him.
Bile unexpectedly rose in John's throat and he choked on it, seeing the woman flinch under Adam.
Not dead yet.
"Heart! Adam!" John yelled frantically.
In a daze, Adam responded automatically, lifting his left hand and driving the small silver knife violently into the woman's chest.
The shifter wilted with the blow and John knew it was over. Heart thumping and stomach clenched in panic, he stumbled over to his son, pulling him off the body and gripping his face, trying to quickly examine his son.
There was blood everywhere.
Adam was covered in it. Scratches down his face beading with it, gashes in his clothing seeping bloody wetness through them.
"Adam? Adam?" John questioned in panic, trying to get his still dazed son to look at him.
"Where? Adam? Where?" he asked, feverishly feeling around the boy to find where the worst of his wounds were.
"Huh?" Adam asked, his eyes clouded and far away.
"Where are you hurt son?"
Suddenly Adam's eyes were bright as he registered the pain and he curled in on himself, crying out. "My leg!"
"Ok. Ok son," John said, actually trying to calm himself more than Adam, he looked down to Adam's left leg seeing a blot of red spreading around a wide hole in the boy's jeans.
Gently grabbing Adam's arms, laid his son down on the garage floor, trying to be mindful of all the smaller wounds that he could see.
"Ok, ok," John whispered, finding himself chanting those meaningless reassurances that always flowed from him when his boys were hurt.
John's mind spun as he quickly took stock. Open garage in a residential neighborhood. Two dead bodies. One bloodied, bleeding teenager crying on the floor. Stolen car two houses away. Victim's house. Crime scene. Sam two hours away. Dean headed to Florida.
Without being conscious of it, John immediately shut down his emotions and went into tactical mode. He jumped up, running to the garage door and pulling it down with a thud. He ran back to Adam, digging in his pocket and pulling out his cell phone while taking off his belt. He knelt down beside his boy and slid the belt under his left thigh, cinching it tightly, hoping to stop the bleeding and praying that no major arteries had been hit.
Reaching with one hand to open the phone on the ground and pressing speed dial number one, he tore off his white FBI dress shirt and ripped the sleeve off as the phone rang.
"Dad?" came Dean's voice from the other end of the call.
"Dean! How far out are you boy?"
Dean instantly registered the urgency in his father's voice, "Two hours from the motel, sir."
"We're in the red. Get Sam. Get here. Meet us at Mercy General."
"Adam?" Dean's voice cracked with fear in recognition of the code words.
"He's gonna be ok." John said absently, ripping the other sleeve off his shirt to tie around the wound in Adam's right shoulder as the boy cried out with the forced movement.
"Dad?" Dean asked, sounding so young that it nearly broke John from his detachment.
"It's gonna be ok, Dean." John said, reaching down to flip the phone shut, ending the call before his resolve could be broken any more.
"Adam." John said, staring intently at his youngest, whose face was grimaced in pain and anguish, sweat across his forehead and blood smeared across his cheeks. "Adam, where else? Are you hurt anywhere else son?"
Adam moaned, rocking in pain "I don't know!" he cried through clenched teeth.
"Ok, Ok." John said, running his hands gently across the boy as quickly as he could.
Hospital or Hotel? Hospital or Hotel? John debated, trying to catalog Adam's wounds. The stab wound to the back of his thigh was by far the worst, deep and uneven, worrying John with the possibility of permanent muscle damage. The shoulder injury would definitely need stitches but wasn't deep enough to cause serious concern. Small, thin slashes lined Adam's arms. Bandages on those. Scratches on the face, just cleaning.
"Sit up Adam," John ordered, pulling Adam into more of a sitting position, hoping to gauge just how serious the stab wound to his leg really was.
Adam screamed in pain at the motion and instantly John decided on the hospital. Looking around he realized he'd have to get Adam out of the garage without causing a scene, which meant there was no way he'd be hauling his bleeding son past two neighboring houses back to the stolen sedan.
"Ok son. Ok," he said, laying Adam back down.
Gritting his teeth John with determination, John glanced down at his boy,
"I'll be right back Adam."
"Dad!" Adam cried weakly, tears streaming down his face.
"I'm gonna go get a car Adam," John said, running a soft hand down the side of Adam's face, "Just need to get the door open so we can get you in, ok?
Tears still rolling down his young face, Adam nodded. John stood up and glanced around the garage noticing a stack of old beach towels on a top shelf. Grabbing several, he hurried to the side of the garage where he remembered seeing an outside door and slid out into the driveway, scanning the surrounding area. Nothing seemed out of place in the quiet neighborhood and no one seemed to have taken notice of the brawl in the garage.
The little blue car was still in the driveway and John opened the driver side door, thankfully spotting the car keys in the cup holder between the seats.
John gave a brief sigh of relief that he wouldn't have to waste time hotwiring and opened the back door of the car, throwing in one of the towels hoping he could find a way to use it to make Adam comfortable.
Rushing back into the garage, John knelt next to Adam.
"You're gonna be ok," he said, covering Adam with another towel and gently putting a hand behind his uninjured shoulder to pick him up.
"You keep saying that," Adam mumbled softly "You're scaring me,"
John nodded, biting down on another meaningless "ok" that bubbled up, "I'm gonna pick you up now, get you in the car,"
Adam's bottom lip trembled, but he nodded and as gently as he could John picked his son up, carrying him as softy and quickly as he could manage out to the little car. Getting Adam into the car was no easy task and the boy was sweating and crying hard by the time John closed the back door.
John ran back to the garage, locking and shutting the side door, saying a little prayer that no one noticed him and the house would stay untouched until Sam and Dean could get there.
He ran back to the car, throwing himself into the front seat and starting the car.
"Dad?" he heard weakly from behind him.
"Yeah son?" he responded, glancing in the rearview at the small, pale face.
"I… I didn't drop my knife."
John felt the last small part of his heart that wasn't broken shatter instantly at his little boy's words and he had to close his eyes for a moment to be able to respond.
"I know son. I know. Good boy,"
-/-
A/N- Thank you so much to everyone who has encouraged me to keep working on this case fic! I feel like its finally getting interesting! And thank you for all your reviews and kind words. If I'm not able to message you to tell you personally I really, really appreciate it! This case fic isn't over yet, I think Sam and Dean will be showing up soon!