Disclaimer: See all previous chapters.
"The bullet nicked a main artery that's the reason for the heavy blood loss, other than that it mostly muscle damage, bullet went straight through." The surgeon told Sam, Dean and John. After Dean was bandaged up for second degree burns they'd made their way back to the O.R. waiting room.
While they waited John explained why it had taken them so long to get there, they had to go back and snatch up the gun Dean dropped behind the motel and forgot about before the police found it. Then the surgeon, a Dr. Wilson came out asking for her family and was immediately surrounded by three very large, disgruntled men.
"So what your saying is that aside from nearly bleeding to death she's the picture of health." Dean said.
"Dean." Sam pulled his brother back and gave an apologetic glance to the doctor. He had hand it to the man, he wasn't intimidated in the least.
"Sorry, she's the baby of the family." John explained giving Dr. Wilson a charming smile and a warning glance towards Dean.
"Its okay, I've seen my share of overprotective big brothers." Dr. Wilson waved it off like it was nothing.
"I'd like to speak with you on some matters though." He said to John turning serious.
"Yes."
"She was shot at close range, any idea who would want to do that?" Dr. Wilson asked. John almost groaned, the guy had cop syndrome, damnit.
"I can't imagine." John answered looking suitably panic stricken at the idea.
"Her tattoos point to one conclusion." The doctor told him, "We don't get a lot of gang activity here but-"
"She's not a gang member." Dean scoffed.
"Then who-" He started but Dean cut him off.
"Near sighted hunter, my sister does a mean Bambi impression." He said smirking.
"Dr. Wilson I would answer your question if I could. Believe me." John said before the surgeon could ask another well meaning question.
"That isn't the only problem sir." He told John.
"What else?" John fought the urge to tell the man to mind his own fucking business.
"There's evidence of previous injuries, serious ones." Dr. Wilson let his meaning sink in for a moment.
"That's our Jack, clumsy to the core." John said with a sad smile, like he'd given the answer to at least a dozen doctors about his son's while they were growing up. Back then a simple boys will be boys would suffice, this could take a little more finesse, he thought.
"Yeah, I always said she could trip sitting down." Dean chimed in.
"Most people don't have pins in their shoulder from falling off a chair." Dr. Wilson told them, his mouth set in a firm line.
"That was a car accident from several months ago. We all had to do some time in the hospital." John answered.
"I could pull the serial number on the surgical pins and check on that." The doctor said not backing down. John was seriously considering shooting the man, but he thought the hospital might frown on that sort of thing.
"Please do." Sam said giving his best innocent boy scout smile. Dean and John snapped around to look at him. He ignored them both and focused on the doctor.
"Actually sir, I was supposed to get an x-ray to check my leg but I never got around to it. Do you think you could check it now?" Sam asked sincerely.
"Sure, I think we could manage that." Dr. Wilson said hesitantly, sounding unsure.
"Thank you sir." Sam said looking relieved. "When can we see Jack?"
"She's being taken to recovery right now. She'll be asleep for at least a day." The doctor told them. He gave them all a wary once over before turning to leave.
"What was that Sam?" John asked.
"If he sees that my leg was broken he'll believe about the car accident, at least I hope he will." Sam said.
"Good work Sammy." Dean patted him on the shoulder, forgetting his thickly bandaged hand.
"Fuck." He hissed shaking his wrist.
"You'll be a real ladies man with those oven mitts your sportin, son." John said trying not to laugh. Sam didn't even try.
"No touch and feel system for you huh, Dean?" Sam asked as Dean glared daggers at them.
"I'm injured and you guys are laughing at me." He mumbled,
"I'm gonna tell Missouri what you said about her apple pie if your not careful dad. I believe the phrase was baked puppy chow." Dean said smugly.
"Your gonna tell on your old man?" John asked incredulous.
"Bet your ass I will Sir." Dean said impudently. He ducked behind Sam as his father swatted at him.
"Children could you please behave?" Sam rolled his eyes as John tried to get at Dean who was using Sam as a human shield.
"Stand still so I can smack you Dean." John said.
"That's not much incentive for me to stand still old man." Dean teased.
"Old man?!"
"You heard me."
"Yeah I did and frankly I'm surprised you know the word incentive."
"Aww, your just getting touchy in your old age."
"Um excuse me." A nurse meekly approached the grown men roughhousing in the middle of the waiting room. The men froze remembering where they were.
"Yes?" John didn't move from his position with one hand pushing Sam's head down so he could reach Dean, who was holding Sam's arm up to defend himself. Sam for his part was close to asking what floor the psych ward was on.
"Um Dr. Wilson said one of you needed an x-ray." She said frowning at them.
"Yes Ma'am." Sam said and pulled himself forcefully away from the Winchester sandwich. As soon as Dean had no shield John cuffed him upside the head.
"Ow!"
"That's what you get."
"Are they-" The nurse started.
"The worry must've gotten to them, our sister's very precious to us." Sam said lamely. He let the bewildered nurse lead him away to the x-ray machines. He didn't glance back when he hear a heavy 'oof' followed by his brother laughing loudly.
"They're your family?" The nurse asked.
"Mental illness runs in the family, skips every now and then." He said smiling at her.
His x-ray showed a nicely healed beak and the pin in his knee, Sam was sure Dr. Wilson would be the first person aside from the tech and him to see it. He understood, if he were a doctor looking at any of them, he'd wonder what the hell was going on too. That didn't make the suspicious glance he gave to Sam later any less annoying though. Luckily he didn't press the issue any more after that.
They were shown to Jack's room, where she was hooked to a blood bag, and I.V. and several machines monitoring her heart and breathing. She was deathly pale from the blood loss, but other than that she seemed to be doing fine. Sam took the seat next to her bed while Dean sat on the edge of the other bed in the semi-private room. John sat on the window sill. None of them noticed they instinctively took positions close to or in front of any entry points.
Sam looked away from Jack's sleeping form when he heard a zipper being undone. To his surprise Dean still had the backpack Jack had almost incinerated herself trying to rescue.
"I thought you dropped that thing." Sam said.
"Me too, forgot I had it till now." Dean said pulling out a spiral bound journal with a rose printed on the cover, an uncharacteristically feminine touch. He smiled a little and put it aside, next he pulled out a silver photo album the size of his fist. It was tarnished but showed the owner took great care of the object.
"You shouldn't be doing that." Sam said disapproval clear in his voice.
"I'm not going to read her diary or anything, Geek boy I just want to see what was worth burning for." Dean said. A hair brush, a tube of lip gloss, a butterfly knife and brass knuckles were all that was left in the main compartment, so he moved to the smaller zipper in the front.
Two envelopes, both with the name 'Jacqueline' scrawled in cursive. The top one had reddish brown smudges and was well worn, probably from being read hundreds of times. The second looked a little newer, the ink still dark and barely a crease on the envelope. He looked them over but he didn't read them, he knew what they were.
He carefully replaced the rest of the contents, keeping only the album out. He opened the thing carefully, it looked like an antique and looked inside. The first photograph was a close up that showed a pretty dark haired woman smiling shyly into the camera. She had Jack's bone structure, high cheekbones and delicate features, but she lacked the full lips and exotic tilt to her eyes that the man standing at her side held. He was two heads taller than the woman standing next to him. The man's dark gold hair reflected slightly by the setting sun behind them. He was smiling proudly down at the little bundle in his wife's arms.
Dean turned the photo over and read, in the same flighty hand as the envelopes:
Annabelle, Thomas and Baby Jacqueline.
Age six weeks. 1988
Dean gently put the picture aside. The weight on the bed shifted as Sam's curiosity got the better of him. He picked up the first picture, studying it.
"They look so happy." Sam said to himself.
"Yeah." Dean agreed turning his attention to the next picture. In it a man with light reddish gold hair was holding a flame haired toddler. Mud speckled her clothes and nearly covered her red pigtails. The man was laughing into the camera, his eyes crinkled up. The little girl was grinning ear to ear with a smile that obviously hadn't changed in the years since it was taken.
Me and Jack age 3. She could already outclimb the other boys, gotta work on the balance thing though.
The note on the back said affectionately. Dean put handed that one to Sam too. The next showed a sturdy old woman with shrewd brown eyes and white hair sitting in a rocking chair on the porch of a big house. Trees were everywhere around the house in the picture and a little dock showed in the far corner with a row boat tied to it. The lady had an all knowing smirk, looked like a tough old broad too, Dean thought, instantly respecting the woman.
Mama Fonty at home on the bayou 1996 R.I.P
The next photo showed Chris by himself smiling into the camera. His golden brown eyes held a mischievous glint and he had Jack's smile. More of her face belonged to him than her father, he saw. He had laughter in his expression like he'd let you in on a great joke just by smiling at you.
Christopher Fontenot, Age 37 2004 R.I.P
Different handwriting graced the back of this photo. Hurried tilted handwriting. Dean glanced at Jack and tried to ignore the place where the pen ink was a little smudged with a trailing tear shaped water mark.
The rest of the photos were of the two of them over the years. 'Sparks' took the place of Jack or Jacqueline in the last few pictures. Some had the names of places in the back; Sanford, Topeka, Belvedere, Denver, Phoenix, so many towns and cities. In more than a few Jack was scraped or muddy, the tells of a tomboy with her age scrawled in the back. The last was of Jack only a little younger than she was now, in a pretty blue dress and her longer hair pulled back in a twist. She was blushing a little in the picture.
Jacqueline Annabelle Fontenot
Age 15. 2003
'She is just a kid.' Dean thought reading back over the years. He sighed wondering if he would have been able to handle being alone at seventeen, hunted by monsters with nowhere to turn for shelter. He glanced at his father looking out the window distractedly and at Sam who was laughing softly at a picture with Jack at six, holding a little boy in a headlock and decided that he would've gone insane.
That night John left the hospital to go stay with Missouri in case of trouble back at the house and Dean and Sam took turns sleeping so one of them could be awake to in case of trouble at the hospital. Sam insisted on taking first watch since Dean was hurt, he wouldn't take no for an answer from his big brother.
It wasn't till early the next evening that the sedatives wore off and Jack woke up.
"Mmmmm." She mumbled opening her eyes slowly and immediately closing them again, the too bright lights hurting her over sensitive eyes.
"Jack. You alright?" Sam asked quietly from her bedside. Dean had gone to see about some food for them.
"Sam?" She asked groggily bringing her right hand up to shield her eyes as she attempted to open them again. She felt the pull of the I.V. of fluids that had replaced the blood bag sometime during the night.
"What happened?" She asked rubbing tentatively at her temples, her head was pounding so bad she could barely speak.
"We're at the hospital. Kate shot you." Sam said gently.
"In the head?" Jack asked through clenched teeth. She knew that wasn't the case but it damn well felt like it.
"Here." Sam said reaching for the button controlling her painkillers and upping the dose.
"Thanks." Jack said. She tried to move a little to a more comfortable position but pain stabbed through her left arm.
"Just relax." Sam said firmly putting his hands on her to stop her from moving to much.
"Hey she awake?" Dean asked balancing two trays of food on his bandaged hands.
"No its the voices in your head talking." Jack slurred.
"Nah I took my Thorazine today." Dean grinned and set down the trays.
"What did you tell the doctors about me?" Jack asked.
"Just let yourself relax for a few before thinking strategy Jackie girl." Dean said sitting on the corner of her bed.
"Just tell me." Jack said glaring at him with little effect. It was hard to be intimidating when you could barely move, she was finding out.
"He told them you were pretending to be Bambie when a hunter shot you." Sam said rolling his eyes as Dean laughed at his own joke.
"Bambie's a boy." Jack pointed out.
"Yeah, that's the part of the story that's hard to believe." Sam said sarcastically.
"I had to say something, the man thought you were a gang member or something." Dean explained.
"Was I singing 'When your a Jet.' In my sleep again." Jack asked.
"Only the chorus." Dean answered.
"Cops?" Jack asked stubbornly refusing to relax till she knew what she was dealing with.
"Dad dealt with them, not sure what he told them, before you ask. And if anybody asks you your our beloved baby sister, who falls down a lot." Sam said.
"Should I be wearing a helmet too." Jack asked smiling.
"If you think it'll help us get a better parking space." Dean answered.
"What name does your darling little sister go by?" Jack asked them. Her headache receded to the back of her head as the painkillers took action.
"Jack Fontenot." Sam said.
"What?!" Jack shot up in her bed. A wave of nausea hit her and she felt a jerk on her arm where the needle was taped in. She immediately fell back against the pillows moaning in pain.
"Was that not right?" Sam asked getting a bad feeling in his stomach.
"Well, lets see considering that I'm technically a missing person, I'd say no its not good." Jack said holding her stomach to keep from throwing up.
"Missing or runaway?" Dean asked.
"Doesn't matter, we gotta get out of here." She answered trying to get up despite her body's protests.
"No you have to rest." Sam said sternly pushing her back down in her bed. She couldn't fight against him without hurting herself so she didn't try but if looks could kill….
"This is going to suck." Jack muttered settling back against the pillows.
"I told them you were nineteen so I doubt they'll call children's services." Sam told her trying to sound reassuring.
"Why would they do that?" Jack asked suspiciously.
"The pictures in your bag had dates written on the backs, I did the math." Dean said unashamed that he'd gone through her things.
"You son of a-"
"Hey now lets not start calling names Sparks." He said calling her by the nickname written on the back of several photos.
"Don't call me that." Jack told him clenching her fists.
"Fine but your not leaving here in your condition." Dean said.
"If they run my name through the system and someone who knows me catches it they will make the call." Jack told him.
"We'll worry about that when it happens." He said shrugging.
"Fine, but be warned, a force darker and more determined than any you've ever met will come here looking for me." Jack said grimly.
"What?" Sam asked leaning closer to her automatically. Dean's hand went to his pocket where he had a small handgun stashed.
"My social worker." Jack said, her lips twitching upward. Sam scowled at her.
"You're such a smartass." He said.
"You had me worried for a second there." Dean said un-tensing.
"You should be, fifty bucks says the woman comes here herself. She's a bit mad at me for running away from foster care after only three days" Jack said wrinkling her nose in distaste.
"You're such a people person." Dean said sarcastically.
"Yeah I know, I'm thinking of getting into social work myself, find the human connection and all that." Jack retorted.
"Just relax for now, we'll look out for rogue social workers." Sam said frowning at her. "I swear, your not afraid to run into a burning building but an overzealous public servant scares you."
"She tried to hug me once, it was very traumatic." Jack answered groggily. With pain killers came sleepiness and she was already exhausted.
"I'll only sleep for a couple of hours then we gotta get me gone." Jack said trying to sound forceful as her eyes drifted closed.
"Just sleep you stubborn pain in the ass." Dean said ruffling her hair affectionately. Jack mumbled something he chose to ignore and then she was out again.
"We should call dad, see about a jail break here, in case she's right." Dean said turning to Sam.
"She needs to stay still." Sam protested.
"If we don't take her out of here she'll try to leave by herself." Dean argued taking out his cell phone and dialing.
Before he could finish dialing there was a tap at the door. He turned and saw an attractive woman in her early thirties standing in the doorway holding a file folder and a no nonsense frown.
"My name is Madeleine Keith, from the Louisiana Department of Children and Families. I'm here to see Jacqueline Fontenot." The woman introduced herself stepping into the room.
"Got fifty bucks I can borrow Sammy?" Dean asked snapping his phone closed.
TBC…….
AN: Whew, Jack's alive and well, or almost well. I wanted to throw in a face from Jack's past, one she'd be almost as happy to see as her vampire buddies. She's not a bad lady, just doesn't know when she's not wanted or needed. And yes she did steal her former social worker's identity, just because she's a smartass like that.