The Untruth Told

(4/5)

The nature of man is evil; his goodness is the result of his activity.

Xunsi

- Palo Alto, California

After talking with Emily at Cliff House, Sam called his brother. David, who for the last few years seemed to continually surprise him, was enjoying the mystery he had created about Sam's bachelor party. It seems that his own marriage hadn't changed his older brother much and Sam was starting to worry about the possibilities the man could come up with.

"Hey Dave," voice mail again. He never connected with his brother any more; they had been reduced to leaving messages for one another in an endless game of what his mother referred to as 'phone tag'. "It's Sam. Listen, I know you are getting a real kick out of planning my bachelor party and everything, but please… please! Don't go overboard. I mean, not only will Jenn be nearby, but my future in-laws will be… well, I just have a feeling that one of them may 'check-in' on the festivities. And, really man, they are paying for, like, everything. So, I really feel like, bad impressions aside, I don't want to make them angry in any way. Okay? Listen… just give me a call, all right?"

Sam hung up the phone. While seeing the greater good of the devices, he was really beginning to hate answering machines and voice mail. He finished up his lukewarm dinner and barely-cold beer, knowing that he had more calls to make, yet also knowing that his brother would call as soon as he was on the phone. If there was such a thing as telephone-usage-ESP, he was sure that David Winthrop possessed it.

Too bad psychic powers didn't run in the family. Sam laughed at the thought as he got up from the sofa and put his dishes is the sink and his bottle in the recycle bin. A little telekinesis a la Jean Grey or Willow Rosenberg would come in handy every now and then. Laughing again as he grabbed another beer from the refrigerator, he thought, of course, a little of Johnny Smith's precognition would be nice as well.

But, sci-fi fantasies were not going to help him with his phone calls. Sam decided to risk a tag-back from his brother and picked up the phone. First he called the tux shop to make sure David, Jack, his father, and Jenn's father had all made it in to be measured. He had assumed that Regina and Jenn's cousin Stacey had gone to the shop with Jenn… well, Jenn had the bridesmaids covered.

Next he called the florist. He knew that Jenn had made all of the bouquet, boutonniere, and corsage arrangements, but Sam wanted to do something special, something surprising. He made sure to ask that a single white rose (Jenn's favorite) be delivered to the bride's room on the morning of the wedding with a note:

Jenn, meet me in the Terrace Room at 10:00

Love, Sam

Then, he called the photographer to go over the itinerary for the wedding weekend, making sure to have the woman near the bride's room when the rose was received. Sam new Jenn well enough to know that she would be a little angry at having her photo taken when she wasn't prepared (and possibly teary), but would be thankful for the memory later.

His last call was to the chalet owner in Tennessee to make sure that their reservation information was correct. Yes, a chalet in Tennessee in December might be an unusual honeymoon spot, but Jenn had lived in California all of her life (and he had for the last four years), and they both decided that another beach somewhere wouldn't be something out of the ordinary.

His final call made (and won't Jenn be happily surprised that he took care of these things), Sam decided to check his voice mail. And, just as he suspected, David had called while he was on the phone.

Hey Sammy (arg – he hated when his brother called him Sammy) you worry too much bro! I got you the highest class strippers I could find – nothing's too good for my little brother. And don't worry about the future-in-laws. I took care of them, too. I sprung for a couple of stripper-grams to be sent to their room. They won't be barging in on our festivities. You did mention that they were swingers, right?

At this point, his brother had to stop his casual sounding message and burst into laughter. After a moment and a deep breath to regain composure, he continued.

I'm just kidding, man. I know that's not your thing – every other man's on the planet, but not yours. And, this is your day, your weekend, so we're going to party the way you like – boring as that may be. Don't worry kid; I've come up with something special but it won't get you in trouble. I'll even make sure you don't drink too much – having a hangover at your own wedding is not the best way to start your life together.

Sam smirked. Did David know that from personal experience?

Just remember, Sammy, as long as I'm around, nothing bad is gonna happen to you.

Déjà vécu?

Though Sam was almost positive that he had never heard his older brother udder those words, he couldn't help feeling that it was familiar. Sure, David always had his back, always stuck up for him (and Sam did the same for him) – but there was something about the specific words he had used...

Sam smiled as he saved his brother's message. Suddenly, he couldn't help the warm feeling he had – the feeling that told him that everything was going to be all right.

-----

- Lawrence, Kansas

John called Shane as he left the house for the hospital. Having expected to simply leave a message for his son, he was surprised when Shane answered on the third ring. Apparently, John was the second person to reach him between classes – he had just gotten off the phone with Maria who told him that, after rushing to the hospital, the babies were now taking their sweet time and seemed in no hurry to be born.

Well, that made John's decision easy – he would stop by Mark's room before catching up with his wife. After asking at the admissions desk for his son's room number, John went the long way around the hospital and climbed three flights of stairs to avoid running into Maria.

Finally finding the correct door, John took a deep breath and walked in slowly, not really sure what to expect. His son was lying in a barely long enough hospital bed with his right leg held up by a torturous looking device hanging from the ceiling. A cast that extended from his foot to his thigh reminded John just how tall his youngest son was – at 6'3", his baby was really not a baby any more.

But, what really caught his attention was the smile on the boy's face. John would have thought that it was impossible to grin so widely, what with the bruises and abrasions on the right side of his face, but one look at the young woman who was smiling back at Mark told him that his son would risk the discomfort.

"And here I was actually worried about you," John said with a smirk. "It looks like you're in good hands to me."

The young woman looked up at him, a smile still on her face and in her dark brown eyes. In one fluid motion, she tucked some of her stray blonde hair behind her ear and then reached her hand out to John.

"Hello Mr. Winchester," she said pleasantly. "I've just been keeping your son company, but since you're here now, I'll leave you two alone. Bye Mark. It was nice meeting you."

"Will you be here again tomorrow?" Mark asked, trying to hide the eagerness in his voice.

"Yeah," she smiled again, "and I'll make sure to stop by." And with that, she left the room.

"And who was that?" John asked as he sat down in the chair the young woman had just vacated.

"Charlotte," Mark said, almost wistfully. "She's a volunteer here. I guess she goes to KU, too, but it's a big place – I've never seen her before."

"I'm guessing that will change," John smiled at his son. Mark smiled back, but then as his thoughts drifted, so did the carefree expression. "What's the matter?"

"Stacey," he said simply, then groaned and let his head hit the pillow.

Stacey was Mark's on-again, off-again girlfriend, but always-friend. John didn't understand how that worked, but his boys were constantly reminding him that things are different from when he was a kid.

John had been surprised to hear from Stacey when she called to ask for Mark's new phone number. Since she had left town to study at the Art Institute in San Francisco, he thought that it would be the end of his son's relationship with her. But, as he soon found out, they had remained good friends – so much so that Stacey had asked Mark to be her escort to her cousin's wedding.

"I thought that you two were just friends."

"We are," Mark told him. "We decided that the long distance thing wouldn't work. That's not really the problem, though."

"What is the problem?"

"I'm supposed to be Stacey's date to her cousin's wedding! How I am going to get there? I was planning to drive. And, what about a suit? I'm not going to be able to fit anything over this cast other than sweatpants."

"Okay, okay," John said, trying to calm his now-panicking son down, "take it easy. We'll figure something out. In the meantime, why don't you call Stacey? Maybe she's met someone at school…"

"Yeah," Mark jumped on the train of thought, "yeah, you're right. She's a nice, good-looking girl. I'm sure she's met a lot of people at school. She might want to take someone else. Yeah, thanks Dad. I'll give her a call."

John smiled as he handed his cell phone to his son. Oh, if only all of life's problems were so easily solved. He was interrupted from mentally patting himself on the back by Charlotte's return.

"Um, Mr. Winchester," she said quietly when she noticed that Mark was on the phone. "Do you know that there is another Winchester family here?"

John was so immersed with being super-dad that he had forgotten about his upcoming role as grandpa. He jumped out of the chair as Mark was handing his phone back to him.

"Well, she's still counting on me… What's going on?" he asked.

"Cassidy's having the twins!"

"What, now? Here? Go Dad," Mark said, "I'm fine. Go!"

John ran to the doorway but then paused and looked back and forth down the long hallway to either side, trying to get his bearings once more.

"Mr. Winchester," Charlotte said from a couple steps to his left. "Why don't you follow me? I know all the quickest routes in this hospital."

"Thanks," John told her and followed her to an elevator that didn't appear to be for public use. "Are you sure we're allowed to use this one?"

"Yep," she said, pulling out a small key from her pocket. "This one is for deliveries. Since I volunteer here, I have access. So," she said once they were inside the elevator, "Mark looked a little upset. Is he all right?"

"What?" John's mind was flying between all that had happened that afternoon. When he focused on the question, he smiled and turned to her. "Yes, Mark's fine. He's a little worried because he promised a friend he would go to California and the cast won't be off in time. I guess he'll have to fly since he won't be able to drive for awhile."

"When's the trip?" John was a little thrown by the question, but when he looked over at her, he could see the slight look of disappointment. He congratulated himself on his forethought – mentioning Stacey would probably not gain his son any points with this girl.

"December," John told her as the elevator doors opened. "During the school break."

"Oh wow," she said, leading him towards a waiting room. He could see Maria pacing through the open doorway. "Well, good luck getting a plane ticket. That's not the best time of year to try and fly, what with the holidays and everything. Too bad he doesn't have someone to make the drive with him."

-----

- Cape Girardeau, Missouri

"What?" Dean asked again, only this time it wasn't because of déjà vu. This time it was because he was completely confused by the non sequitur his wife just threw at him.

"Go away with me," she repeated.

"What?" it seemed to be all he could say. "Where? Carrie, what are you talking about?"

"It could be like a second honeymoon," she said, starting to talk quickly. "Or really, a first, since we didn't technically have one after we were married. Which, I am not blaming you for, so don't even start feeling guilty about that. And we never go on vacation – again, not blaming you. Really, it's my fault…"

"Carrie-"

"And," she kept going, talking faster, "it could just be the two of us. We really only had, well, less than two years for just the two of us – and half of that time, I was pregnant, so that didn't really count. And, my parents could watch Abby…"

"Carrie-"

"It could be a big 5-year anniversary thing…"

"Carrie!"

"What?" she finally stopped and turned to face him.

"Well," Dean said, taking a deep breath. He hadn't been the one talking, but he still felt breathless. "First of all, we've been married 6 years…"

"Huh?"

"Well, we will be – I mean, this December will be our 6th anniversary, not 5th."

"And second?" At his questioning look, she continued. "You said, 'first of all', which generally implies that there is a 'second of all' following."

"Second of all," he said slowly, "where is this all coming from?"

"Dean," Carrie said, sitting on a park bench and patting it so that he would sit down next to her, "when we first met, you were in the middle of traveling the country. If I remember correctly, you were passing through this little town on your way home after hitting all points east. But then-"

"But then I had the most fortunate car trouble-" he interrupted.

"And you got stuck," she interrupted him right back. "You never got your trip out west. And, for the first time since we met, I feel like I can give you something back. Something that you really want."

"What?" even Dean was getting tired of the skip in his verbal record.

"My parents won some contest – a two person, all expenses paid trip," she told him. "They don't really want it; they really don't even remember signing up for it – but you know my mom," she smiled. Yes, poor Mrs. Robins was hopelessly addicted to the 'click-here-and-win' advertisements she found while online.

"Anyway," Carrie kept on, "it's a week-long trip. We would fly out on Friday, December 15 and get back the following Friday – the 22nd. It's perfect," she told him, really starting to sell the idea. "With our anniversary on the 16th… well, Mom and Dad thought it would be a great honeymoon trip. The hotel is supposed to be very nice, great view – in California – about as far west as you can get in the contiguous United States. And, like I said, they don't really want to use it," she told him, knowing how he felt about apparent hand-outs. "They just thought it would be a waste not to have someone use it…"

"Okay, okay," he said, holding up his hands in surrender. "So they want to give us a paid-for trip and provide child care?" Carrie nodded. "All right – just as long as they know that this counts for the next round of birthday and Christmas gifts."

"Done!" Carrie told him with a smile and a hug – both of them knowing full well that her parents would still lavish them and Abby with gifts on their various birthdays and at the holidays.

"And everything is already worked out for you," Mrs. Robins was telling Dean and Carrie when they stopped at the house to pick up Abby. "Lori – that's the travel agent who contacted me – Lori said that the plane arrives at 3:58 and it's only about a half an hour drive to the hotel. You'll be there in plenty of time to check in, drop off your suitcases, and have dinner."

Soon, Dean felt like a fifth wheel – literally – Carrie, Abby, and Mr. and Mrs. Robins were all happily chattering away about the up-coming trip. He wanted to be as excited as the others seemed to be but there was something nagging at him, something making anxious. Something other than the thought of flying for the first time in his life – not that he was afraid, of course.

No, there was something else. While Dean was anything but naïve and gullible, he had never been a particularly suspicious or cynical either – he preferred to think of himself as a realist, rather than an optimist or pessimist. But this whole situation… this whole excursion set him on edge in a way that was completely foreign, but at the same time natural, to him.