"Well, that was a waste of time," Cass grumbled, yanking loose the hated tie. "Krissy's not gonna be happy."
Sam hummed in agreement, kicking frustratedly at one of the ornamental shrubs lining the sidewalk on the way back to where they had parked.
"It wasn't a total waste," Bess broke in, accepting Garth's proffered arm as she picked her way across the slick pavement. "He ticked me off there at the end, but I think he did that on purpose so I'd stop asking questions."
"You did good, baby," Garth complimented his wife, tucking her in close with a small smile. "He knows something about something, that's for sure."
"I thought you said there was a—What did you call it? A blood feud?—between the werewolves and the shapeshifters in Chicago," DJ queried, replaying the conversation in his head.
"Like the Hatfields and McCoys," Garth confirmed, shaking his head.
"And now they've just, what? Called a truce?" Cass demanded, skeptical. "When? Why?"
"Those are good questions," Bess said thoughtfully, forehead puckering. "But getting the answers is going to be tricky."
"Even trickier on an empty stomach," Garth remarked, patting his belly expressively. "I don't know about you guys, but I could go for some egg foo young right about now. Chinese, anybody?"
"I could eat," DJ shrugged.
Next to him, Cass made exaggerated gagging noises.
"Mind if we split up?" Sam said diplomatically, covering Cass' ass. "I kinda want a burger."
"That's fine," Bess answered before Garth could say no. "Just stay together and behave," she warned. "This isn't our territory; we have to tread lightly."
"Yes ma'am," the twins said together; DJ dipped his chin in acknowledgement.
It didn't take long to find a decent diner; all they had to do was follow Cass' nose. The place was packed—an excellent sign—so they made themselves comfortable at the lunch counter, where a beleaguered waitress put three mugs and a pot of coffee in front of them, promising that she'd be back soon to take their order.
"We need to leave a big tip," DJ commented, raising his eyebrows as she bustled away.
"Whatever you say, dude," Cass returned, reaching across the formica to retrieve the cream and sugar she'd forgotten in her haste. "I just hope she really does come back soon; I'm starving."
"You're always starving," Sam quipped, flipping open a menu. "We get our burgers rare, anyhow; it won't be a long wait."
DJ had skipped breakfast, too anxious to stomach even something as benign as a donut, so he was in the middle of perusing the breakfast section when someone sat down on the stool to his right and interrupted him, bending to speak directly into his ear.
"You tracking my phone, now?"
Startled at the unexpected sound of his dad's voice, DJ jerked and spilled his coffee everywhere; the waitress' exasperated sigh could be heard from across the crowded restaurant.
"Jesus Christ!" DJ hissed, standing up in a hurry to avoid being scalded. "Damn it, Dad!"
"Big Sam!" Cass exclaimed, shoving a napkin dispenser in DJ's direction. "What are you doing here?"
"You're not following me?" Dad demanded, dubious.
"No," DJ snapped, grabbing a handful of napkins. "Not that you wouldn't deserve it; you missed yesterday's check-in," he reminded him as he patted himself down.
"Sorry," Dad muttered, making a face. "I got caught up."
"What are you doing in Chicago?" DJ huffed, not quite ready to accept an apology.
"Having brunch," DJ jumped a second time when Crowley answered; thankfully, he was no longer holding a hot beverage. "Fancy meeting you here."
DJ looked past his dad to see the demon fussily adjusting a wool coat; beyond him, a rumpled-looking Castiel threw up an incongruent peace sign by way of greeting.
"Really?" he said to his dad, not bothering to temper his aggravation.
"What can I get started for youse guys?" The waitress cut in aggressively, tossing a bar mop down over the spill with one hand as she pulled out her order pad with the other.
DJ wanted answers, but not more than Cass wanted food, so they took a few minutes deciding what to eat. Dad dimpled at the waitress the entire time she was jotting down their choices, making apologetic puppy dog eyes from behind his glasses, but she remained steadfastly indifferent.
"Dad," DJ prompted as she hurried off again. "What happened?"
"Nothing," Dad sighed. "That's the problem; other than the bodies, there was nothing in Alliance. I went by the bunker, but I couldn't just stay there, so… I figured I'd just come back to where it all started."
"Chicago?" Sam leaned forward on his elbows to join the conversation.
"Chicago," Dad confirmed, taking a sip of his own coffee. "Only place we ever fought the damn things."
"You're welcome," Crowley interjected; Dad rolled his eyes.
"So if you're not here for me," he asked, sitting back as their waitress returned and set a salad in front of him. "What are you doing here? Jody's expecting us for Christmas dinner."
"Krissy sent us," Cass jumped in, wrinkling his nose in disgust as dad dug into his minimally-dressed field greens. "Turns out those vampires had a little help."
"Keep your voice down," Sam admonished his brother, cracking a wide smile as the waitress made a second trip with a pair of chocolate malts.
"Your food'll be out in a minute," she said shortly, handing one to each of the twins.
"Help?" Dad prodded.
Cass was fully occupied with his malt, slurping noisily; rather than wait for him to finish and carry on with his sitrep, DJ quickly and quietly brought his dad up to speed. He was hesitant to describe the meeting with Julian Duval, certain that his dad would be less than thrilled about DJ having been in the room; however, he managed to circumvent his overt disapproval by tugging his pant leg up just enough to expose the bottom edge of the ankle holster. Dad clocked it with a frown and a small nod, glad of the precaution if not the reason it was necessary.
"So anyway," Cass cut in when DJ was done, wistfully swirling his straw around the bottom of his now-empty glass. "Now we're kind of stuck, because there's no way Margo Lassiter's gonna agree to meet up with a bunch of werewolves and their pack witch."
"I'm not a witch," DJ asserted.
"You smell like one," Cass retorted, perking up a little bit when he saw their food being plated.
"I don't know about Margo," Dad said, disregarding their exchange. "But David might be willing to talk to you, if he's still around. He's her younger brother; he was in love with a werewolf once."
The Fitzgeralds tilted their heads as one and gave dad carbon-copy questioning looks.
"Oh yeah," he continued. "Very Montague and Capulet, 'A plague on both your houses,' type of thing. We helped him save his girlfriend from a crazy monster-wannabe, back in the day. I don't know how that worked out… but I know someone who might."
Their food arrived while dad was still scrolling through his contacts and Googling god knows what. DJ drowned his hashbrowns in ketchup while the twins tore into their still-bleeding burgers, Sam growling at Cass' attempts to dip his fries into his brother's malt.
"Looks like Violet got married," Dad spoke up while DJ was pushing a piece of toast around his plate to sop up the rest of his egg yolks. "Not to David; I can't find anything recent on him. Near as I can tell, though, Ennis still lives over in Lawndale."
His dad tilted the screen towards him so that DJ could see to input the address into his own phone.
"Ennis?" DJ repeated, committing the name to memory as he typed.
"Ennis Ross; his fiancée was killed when Sal Lassiter was murdered. Wrong place, wrong time; I felt bad for the kid. They had their whole lives ahead of them…" DJ looked up as his dad trailed off, eyes going unfocused for a moment before he gave himself a little shake and cleared his throat. "Anyway, that's who you'll want to talk to. If anyone knows what's going on with Chicago's monsters, it'll be him."
"Thanks, Dad," DJ said, still searching the older man's face for any hint of what he was thinking.
"Yeah, seriously, that's a big help," Sam expressed gratefully, sliding his empty plate across the counter with a contented sigh.
Cass was pouting, having been utterly thwarted in his quest for something both sweet and salty. His sigh was bitter and disconsolate, with just a hint of a whine. Apparently, Crowley found his misery irresistible.
"What's the matter, Cassandra?" he taunted, angling around dad to show off his smirk. "Is it that time of the month?"
"I will rip your goddamn face off!" Cass snarled, lunging for the demon.
"Whoa!" Sam grabbed Cass by the scruff of the neck and hauled him backwards into a headlock. "We are in public!" he hissed in his brother's ear. "Calm down!"
"Menstruation is a normal biological function," Castiel contributed reassuringly, leveling Crowley with a disapproving glare.
"Not for guys!" Cass barked, sounding half-strangled as he scrabbled at his brother's arm.
"Well, it is for some guys," DJ corrected; Cass shot him a dirty look.
"Not for me!" He insisted vehemently. "Sam, get the fuck off of me; I'm fine."
Sam let him go with a roll of his eyes, and not a moment too soon; the waitress looked like she was about a hairsbreadth from kicking them all out on their asses. To his credit, Cass didn't immediately go for Crowley's throat, choosing instead to gesture menacingly at him with a saltshaker.
"Just ignore him," Dad mumbled wearily, rubbing his temples. "I always do."
I see you, followers and favorites! ❤️ Please feel free to jump into the comments and share your favorite moments so far; I do my best to reply to all comments as soon as I see them; however, there doesn't seem to be the option to reply to Guest comments.