Hey Hey Hey Beautiful SPN Family! I've missed you!
This is a request from Ravenclaw Girl. She asked to read this plot line. I don't want to spoil it, so enjoy!
I need to tell you all how much you mean to me. Seriously. If I could, I would give you each a bajillion dollars. And we could all go to each SPN con together! To those patiently waiting for a story- I'm on it! I promise! I just recently got a new laptop, so I'm sincerely hoping that will make my turn around times a little better! Thank you for hanging in there with me.
Extra special thanks to the wonderful Jenmm31. She's got a great collection of stories- go check them out! Thank you, Sammy :)
Alright my dears- read, review, and enjoy!
A/N- In this story, Natalie is 14. It takes place one month after chapter 4- Bury the Sunlight. Please see Profile Page for Disclaimers.
Natalie's fingers were trembling in excitement. She had to forcibly inhale and exhale slowly, just to get her hands steady enough to snap her dark purple canvas coat closed. She double and triple checked the knots on her boots- Dean would get pissed if the laces came untied while she was running, or if they got tangled in something while they were in the woods. She tucked the ends of the laces into the boots themselves so there was no chance they'd catch on anything. She wasn't taking any chances- not today.
After her what-felt-like-an-eternity-long punishment for sneaking out of the house and trying to hunt down a spirit by herself was over, Sam and Dean had sat her down for a very serious talk. At the time, she was sure it was going to be another lecture on safety, the importance of always having someone watching your back when hunting, and obeying the rules. She'd been getting them about three times a week during her month-long grounding. The boys had been teaming up, giving the lecture in tandem, picking up where the other left off, and adding on when they felt the other was lacking. Natalie could recite the whole thing back and forth by the fifth time through. And then, every time they went home, she got another lecture from Bobby, too. His were slightly more tolerable. Whereas Sam would go into explicit details about why she needed to follow the rules and Dean would take her through every scenario where he and Sam had gotten in trouble by not following the rules with their own father, Bobby would usually just look at her and say "You do it again, and I'll skin you alive. Got it?" Not that Dean himself hadn't made that particular threat a time or two- Natalie just felt that between the two of them, Bobby was more likely to carry through on that ultimatum.
She had patiently and quietly sat through every lecture, making sure not to roll her eyes even though she wanted nothing more in the world than to do just that. She knew she deserved the talking-tos. She had brought all this misery on herself, by letting her short temper and impulsive actions land her straight in hot water. If Sam hadn't been there, saving her ass from the rogue poltergeist, she might not have made it back at all. Even without the lectures, she knew that. So she endured every story, every detail, and every death threat her family had been throwing at her, as contritely as possible.
But this last lecture was different. Sam asked her to sit on the couch, and he and Dean had pulled up chairs right in front of her. That had thrown her- usually while they were yelling, they preferred to stand and tower over her, making her feel even smaller than she already was at just under five feet tall. Sam sat down carefully. Dean thunked into his chair and crossed his arms tightly with a distinctly grouchy look on his face. Natalie's eyes had flicked back and forth between them, wondering what this was all about, and why her dad looked like he'd just eaten a lemon.
"Alright, Natalie," Sam said, in a calm, rational voice. "We've decided-" He was interrupted by a snort from Dean. Sam glared at his brother, and continued. "WE'VE decided-" he said again, heavily emphasizing the "we" as he shot Dean a look, "-that you're ready to get back onto the field."
Natalie's mouth dropped open in utter shock. Out of everything she had expected to hear, this was among the last. "Are you serious?" she stuttered out, not believing her own ears. "I thought you guys were going to keep me off the field until I was in my twenties."
Dean's slanted eyes moved towards her face. "That was my vote," he growled low in his throat. He sat up and uncrossed his arms, but didn't lose The Eye. He pointed one finger in her face. "Conditionally. This is completely conditional, you hear me?"
Natalie carefully nodded- this could go several ways. She needed to play it cool. "What are the conditions?" she asked lightly, trying to keep the uneasiness from her voice.
"You do what I say, at all times. No questioning, no back talking, no skipping along on your own merry freaking way. Got it?" Dean said, his tone growing firmer and firmer.
"Yes, sir," Natalie said back, respectfully. She had no problem with that- she knew that Dean was almost always right when it came to anything Supernatural. Even Sam was dominated more by his emotions than his brain sometimes, occasionally making him irrational and impulsive. It was always better when Dean took point on a case. Not to mention, she really wasn't interested in getting herself another month of lectures for not following the rules. After this particular punishment, she also was incredibly familiar with the feelings of guilt for disrespecting her father and uncle, so she wasn't about to go down that road again anytime soon. She looked back and forth between them now, wanting to know the rest of the conditions.
"Also," Sam said, sitting up a little straighter from the anxiety of what he was about to tell his niece. "You going into the field is subject to our agreement on the matter."
Natalie's eyebrows crinkled together. "What does that mean?" she asked.
"It means that if Sam and I don't agree on you going into the field, and don't agree on the level of involvement you're going to have on a case, then you're not going- end of discussion," Dean said.
Natalie's eyes widened. "But you guys don't agree on a lot of what you let me do already."
Dean shrugged nonchalantly, crossing his arms again. "I said it was conditional."
Natalie had forced herself to take a deep breath. The one side of her fourteen year old very teenagery brain wanted to scream and rage at them. They had dangled this right in front of her face, only to snatch it back out of reach. They knew that, more than anything in the world, she wanted to get into the field and start her ground training as a hunter. To put that in front of her, and then say that it was basically unattainable, was enough to make her hyper emotional teenage mind explode. However, the other side of her fourteen year old mind- the side that was far more advanced and logical than the emotional teenage side- was begging her to keep her cool. That side of her mind knew that if she even said one word in protest, Dean would immediately scrap the entire idea, give her the same lecture she'd been hearing for the last month, and she'd be right back where she started. At least with this deal, there was a chance that she'd actually get some ground training. A very, very slim chance, but it was still better than nothing.
After she exhaled slowly, she looked up to see Dean staring intently at her. He always knew what she was thinking, so it was entirely possible that he was watching to see which side of her brain was going to win this particular fight. "Okay," she said simply, looking him right in the eye. Dean cocked his eyebrow at her. Natalie knew that was his way of questioning if she was really going to go with the flow on this one.
"Okay?" he said lightly, but Natalie heard the undercurrent in his voice. Just as determined as he was, she nodded back, once, firmly.
"Yes, sir. I understand."
"Okay. Repeat back to us what you think you just heard," Sam said patiently, wanting to make sure that Natalie truly understood the conditions. Her green eyes slid over to him, and held his gaze.
"I am allowed to go onto the field only if you and Dad say that I can, and only if you agree on how much I'll be involved."
"Also..." Dean prompted. Natalie took a deep breath.
"Also I have to do what you say at all times, no questions asked." At her response, Dean uncrossed his arms and sat up, mollified.
"Good. Then in that case, we have a little project for you." Instantaneously, Natalie squealed in delight. Both Sam and Dean's eyebrows shot up into their hairlines. They hadn't heard her make that sound since she was a lot younger. Her face flushed red at her impulsive childlike behavior. She cleared her throat and squirmed a bit, causing Dean's mouth to twist to the side as he attempted to hide his amusement. Watching her try to gather herself back together after that was freaking hilarious. But he knew she would get upset if he made fun of her right now, so he let the moment pass. He catalogued it in his brain to use it to make fun of her later, however. He watched as she made a valiant effort to look grown up and mature.
"So," she said in what she considered to be a very dignified voice. "What project would you like my help on?" Dean turned away quickly so as to hide his snicker. He gestured to her to follow him. As he made his way over towards the table under the motel room window, he had been careful to hide his laugh from her. Knowing how happy she was helped to put his mind at ease about this whole situation. He pulled himself together, reached down, and pulled Natalie's laptop out of his bag, and held it out to her. She took it as if it was the Holy Grail. She had been without her precious laptop for the last month. Getting it back was like taking that first breath of clean air after being underwater for a very long time. She closed her eyes and hugged it into her chest. This time, it was Sam who snickered. Unlike his brother, he didn't bother to try to hide it.
"You just gonna stand there and hug your laptop all day?" he teased.
"Yes," she said, eyes still closed, as she rocked her laptop back and forth blissfully.
"Yeah, well, when you decide to come back down to Earth, let me know," Dean growled, but playfully. Her mouth puckered in its usual twisted to the side grin. She placed her laptop down on the table gently, and opened the lid.
"If you geek out when you turn that thing on, I swear I'm gonna leave you at the orphanage," Dean said wryly, looking into his daughter's glowing face. He couldn't help but get a thrill, seeing how happy she was, even if he was trying to take the mickey out of her. She just rolled her eyes with a giggle, reached out, and hit the power button. Dean watched as she barely managed to contain another not-very-grown-up squeal.
That had been two days ago. The research that they had her doing on this case pointed to a werewolf attack. Natalie had been exceedingly careful to do exactly as Sam and Dean had told her to do, hoping it would somehow influence them. It worked- partially. Sam saw how hard she was trying to be perfect, and, being able to identify with that feeling, he told Dean that she should be allowed to help them track the werewolf and take it down as a reward. Dean had flat-out refused. Later that night, after Natalie had gone to bed, they went to a local bar and argued for hours. Sam felt that Natalie not only deserved this chance; she needed it. He pointed out her spot on behavior and the fact that she never once complained or pushed back during her punishment. He reminded Dean that for a fourteen year old, that was akin to finding the cure for cancer. Dean stoically kept bringing Sam back to the fact that she could get cocky and overconfident, and did he really want his niece hunting down a werewolf when she thought she could take on a simple poltergeist alone? After pointing out all the things wrong with Dean's argument, and several beers later, Sam brought up the point of Natalie needing to feel like she was part of the team, and needing to get her self esteem back. They both knew that the situation with the poltergeist had been a huge blow to her confidence. With that argument, Sam finally won. Dean begrudgingly gave his permission. This morning, they told her she was going into the woods with them come nightfall. For the first time in her life, Natalie couldn't wait until the sun set.
Sam and Dean had been plying her with werewolf lore all day, quizzing her on everything from best ways to kill it to the history of the werewolf. At that last one, Dean had turned to Sam, exasperated that he was making Natalie recite werewolf origins.
"What's she gonna do with that knowledge, Sam? Bore the damn werewolf to death?" Sam had shut up about werewolf lore after that.
It was getting to be around ten o' clock. Dean had parked the Impala off the road, close to the entrance to the large, thickly wooded park. They had tracked the beast to these woods, but were unsure whether or not it was still here. They exited the car into the chilly night. The typical nighttime sounds of the forest were absent- another clue that they were on the right path. Natalie was armed to the teeth. The silver .45- an exact replica of her father's favorite handgun- was loaded with silver bullets and tucked into the small of her back.
"Alright," Dean said in a low tone, his eyes scanning the silent woods constantly as he spoke to his daughter. "We're pretty sure this is a newly-turned werewolf, right?"
Natalie took a deep breath to stop her hands from shaking, and nodded. "Uncontrolled, random acts, always killing," she said in a rush, reciting their findings.
"Atta girl," Dean said quietly with pride. "So that means that when this person is a werewolf, they've lost their sense of humanity-"
"Which means they can't be reasoned with when they're in this state," Natalie finished his thought breathlessly. Dean quickly let his eyes flick down to her, hearing the nerves in her voice. He knew she was trying to keep a lid on it, but she was still only fourteen and hunting a werewolf, for pete's sake. He found himself wondering if how he was feeling was how his father felt on Dean's first hunt. The excitement warring with the sheer terror of what was about to happen. He knew Natalie was too much like himself- that she was feeling the same mix of elation and nerves. He was determined to be just as vigilant as John had been- but hopefully, with less yelling. He chuckled. The circle of life was a bitch.
"Breathe, kiddo," he said. "You got your taser?" Natalie nodded quickly, and put her hand in her pocket, withdrawing the weapon. She gripped it tightly. Sam saw this, and he held his hand out, cautioning her.
"Don't squeeze it too tight. You don't want that thing to go off before it's ready."
"That's what she said."
"Really? Really, Dean?"
Dean just smiled smugly in response. The three Winchesters slowly crept towards the heart of the forest. Natalie stayed right in between Dean, who had the lead, and Sam, who was watching their backs.
It came out of nowhere. One moment, they were walking along the path, and suddenly, they were in the fight of their lives. Sam had seen it first. The werewolf came barreling through the trees on their left at an inhuman speed.
"MOVE!" Dean commanded, and the three of them scattered. Natalie took off straight ahead, while Dean and Sam both turned towards the creature, moving in a V pattern away from it. All three of them would have a good shot at it with that pre-planned strategy. Unfortunately, the werewolf was smarter than they'd given him credit for.
It sprang up on its powerful hind legs, jumping directly over Dean. It sensed that out of the three humans hunting it, the smallest one was going to be the easiest to pick off. Upon landing on the forest floor, he immediately took off in Natalie's direction. Natalie heard the creature's snarl much closer behind her than she had anticipated, and put on an extra burst of speed. She suddenly veered to her left, trying to throw the wolf off her track. The creature changed its trajectory with a roar, and barreled down on her. With terror, Natalie saw a huge fallen log right in her path. It was too big to try to go around, and she could barely jump high enough to even hope to get a hand hold and haul herself over it. She turned, gritted her teeth and pulled out the taser. She aimed it right at the werewolf's heart and fired. The barbs shot straight into the creature's chest, and for a nanosecond, she felt relief. However, it was short-lived; the beast didn't stop coming. It was like the taser hadn't affected it at all. Natalie backed into the tree, her hands spread wide against the rough bark, and her eyes filled with terror as the werewolf closed the gap between them in the space of a heartbeat.
Natalie suddenly felt a rough hand shove her sideways. As she hit the ground, she became aware of the sound of ripping clothing, and a human scream of pain. Her own pain from hitting the ground so suddenly and without warning passed through her body in an agonizing tidal wave. It felt like someone had driven a red hot stake into her shoulder. She frantically tried to shove the pain to the side and focus on what had happened. She looked up and her heart stopped.
Dean was wrestling with the werewolf. When Dean shoved her to the ground, he lost a precious second he needed in order to defend himself. The werewolf had grabbed him instead and flung him back away from the tree onto the forest floor, then pounced. The creature was on top of Dean, snarling and drooling like a rabid dog, while Dean held the creature's jaw away from himself- one bite and it was all over. Natalie desperately tried to get up to come to his aid, but the pain radiating through her body had other ideas. She slumped back onto the dirt and twigs, nearly blacking out. She was furious that her shoulder seemed to not want to cooperate in getting her off the forest floor. She took a huge gulp of air and willed herself to stay conscious. As she was scrambling to try to pick herself up, she heard her uncle's voice echo with a loud thunder around the trees.
"DOWN!" he roared, and Natalie immediately dropped and covered her head with her good arm like she'd been taught to. She heard the gunshot crack; the whimper of the creature, and a loud thud. Sam hollered, "Clear!" and she dared to look up. Sam had nailed the creature right in the temple. It had slumped forward onto Dean's body. Sam was running like hell to get to his brother. Natalie managed to stagger to her feet, reaching him about the same time Sam did.
"Back up!" Sam ordered, and Natalie jumped back a mile, both in obedience and surprise. She wasn't used to that level of command in Sam's voice, and to be honest it scared her, especially with all the adrenaline of the moment coursing through her veins. Sam wrapped his arms around the werewolf's body, and with an incredible effort, heaved the body off of Dean. He threw it unceremoniously on the forest floor, and immediately knelt next to his brother, who appeared to be unconscious. Sam, with the concentration and focus of a surgeon, started pulling at Dean's shirt where there was the most blood pooled. Without looking at his niece, he gave her another order.
"Go shoot that thing twice in the heart with your silver bullets. Make sure we've finished the job," he said tightly, still tearing away Dean's shirt. Natalie hastened to obey, drawing her gun as she walked around Dean, trying desperately not to look at her father. She couldn't- she knew if she did, she would never be able to follow Sam's orders. She clenched her teeth, determined. She took shaky aim at the motionless body, and squeezed the trigger twice in rapid succession. There was no way the creature could survive after that. She flicked on the safety, shoved the gun into the small of her back, and spun around on her heel towards her father and her uncle, ignoring the screaming pain in her left shoulder. Sam had ripped the remains of Dean's shirt open, revealing the huge gash in his side from the werewolf's claws. Between the pain in her shoulder and the sight of Dean's injury, Natalie had to once again convince her brain to stay conscious. Sam threw off his jacket and his over shirt, and pressed the mass of flannel to Dean's side. He looked over his shoulder at Natalie.
"Can you grab his feet?" he asked in a rush, trying to keep a calm tone, but knowing he had to get Dean out of here quickly. Natalie nodded and rushed forward. As Sam left the blood-soaked cloth on Dean's torso, he got his arms around Dean's chest and pulled him up, Natalie grabbed her father's ankles and tried to heave. In her rush to help, however, she had forgotten about her damaged shoulder. As she attempted to lift his feet to help Sam carry him, she let out a cry of pain and dropped them, causing Sam to almost lose his balance. He recovered quickly.
"What happened?" he barked at his niece. Natalie couldn't help but feel guilty at his tone. She shook her head, the tears of pain threatening to come spilling out of her eyes.
"I messed up my shoulder- I...can't lift..." she trailed off, miserably. Sam just nodded once, making Natalie feel even more horrible. She had caused Dean to get hurt, and now she couldn't even help Sam.
"It's okay, Bug," Sam said in a tight, controlled voice. "I can get him." Sam repositioned himself so that Dean was partially slung on his back in a fireman's lift. Natalie reached out her good hand to try to help steady him, but Sam stopped her. "No- I got him. Look around and see if he dropped anything." Natalie swallowed the rising tide of guilt again, and began scanning the forest floor. She didn't see anything. She did grab Sam's tan jacket from where he had thrown it. Sam was making his way back to the car slowly. "Get the keys out of his pocket," Sam said. Natalie nodded mutely and ran to Dean's side, trying to quickly fish the keys out of his jacket pocket as Sam carried him. It took her longer than she thought, and with each second she felt more and more useless. Not only was Sam trying to carry Dean by himself, she couldn't even get the damn car keys out. She finally succeeded in withdrawing them. When they were within sight of Baby, Natalie ran forward, ignoring the shooting pains in her shoulder. She opened up the front and threw the door wide open.
"Get the back- I have to lay him down," Sam said. Natalie flushed red- of course. She was so used to Dean always being in the driver's seat that her opening the driver's side had practically been a Pavlovian response. She hurried to open the door, feeling stupid, and Sam flopped Dean's unconscious form into the backseat. He spun on his heel to look at Natalie. "Can you get back there with him and hold the shirt to his side?"
"Yes," she said breathlessly, relieved that she could finally do something. She scrambled into the backseat, shifting her small form so that Sam could bend Dean's long legs enough to get in the car. It was a bit of a frantic jumble for a moment; Sam was in a hurry to get Dean back to the motel to patch him up, and Natalie was desperately trying to find an angle where she could sit and apply pressure to Dean's torso without sitting on him. They finally found the right combination, and Sam closed the backdoor quickly. He slid into the driver's seat and held his hand out behind him. Natalie dropped the keys into his open palm, praying that that was what he wanted. She was right. Sam shoved the keys into the ignition, gunned Baby's motor, and tore out of the woods. Natalie tried to focus all her attention on pressing the flannel to the deep cuts in Dean's side, and not distract Sam. She kept swallowing the guilt that threatened to spill out by focusing on her task at hand. She ignored the shooting pains in her shoulder, just as she ignored the fear that threatened to turn her guts inside out. She couldn't go there right now. Dean needed her.
When they pulled into the motel, Sam burst from the driver's seat and yanked the back passenger door open. "Come on, get out," he said, not unkindly. Natalie scrambled back out over her father. Dean had moaned a couple times on the drive back, slipping in and out of consciousness. They were both desperate to get him the medical attention that he needed, let alone stop moving him. As she tried to climb out of the backseat without stepping on her father, Natalie accidentally swiped the flannel she'd been using as a compress against the back of the driver's seat. She stopped moving for a second, the dread filling her at the thought of Dean finding out that she had stained Baby's interior.
"Aw, shit, Dad's gonna kill me," she muttered under her breath. Sam, however, was trying to pull Dean from the car and couldn't be bothered with that at the moment.
"Bug, move," he said forcefully. With another surging wave of guilt, Natalie came back to the present and almost fell out of the car, wrenching her shoulder again in the process. She clamped her lips together in pain, not wanting to give Sam anything else to worry about. Sam fished the room keys out of his pocket and tossed them at her. However, with her shoulder being out of commission and the suddenness of the move, the keys fell with a terrific clatter to the ground. Natalie felt ridiculous and stupid, and swiped them off the ground, determined to not make any more dumb mistakes. She stomped over to the door, jammed the key into the crusty old lock, and twisted. The deadbolt jammed from the rust, and she spent a solid three seconds spitting out each and every curse word that came to mind as she jiggled and pushed on the lock. When it finally gave way, she threw the door open so hard that it slammed against the wall. She spun around just in time to see Sam giving her a bitch face for the loud noise this late at night.
"Sorry," she mumbled. Sam just shook his head, the bitch face falling away and being replaced with grim amusement. He pulled Dean through the door and flopped him down on the bed. Breathing hard from the exertion, he turned back to Natalie, all business once again.
"Go close up the car. Hurry," he commanded. She nodded once, and rushed to do his bidding. She triple checked Baby's locks on all the doors, making sure nothing was open. She ran back into the room in time to see Sam opening the first aid kit on the bed next to his brother. Natalie shut the motel door, being careful not to slam it. She rushed to her uncle's side, ready to help. She couldn't look at Dean. She was afraid that if she did, she'd go to pieces. Sam was pulling out a needle, thread, and a lighter. He flipped the lighter open and ran the needle through the flame, disinfecting it as quickly as he could. As he worked, he spoke quietly but rapidly to his niece.
"Go get a couple damp towels and a couple dry ones," he murmured, concentrating on putting the thread through the eye of the needle. Natalie scurried into the bathroom, trying to grab as many towels as she could with only one good shoulder. Her left hand still seemed to be working, so she quickly transferred the towels there. She opened up the bathroom taps, willing the water to get warm quickly. When it did, she ran two towels under the faucet. She tried to wring them out a bit so they wouldn't be sopping water all over the floor, but it was difficult with her shoulder not wanting to cooperate. She gathered the towels and raced back to Sam's side. He was tying a knot at the end of the thread.
"Try to gently clean around the wound, okay? Go easy on him- it's gonna hurt like hell," Sam said in clipped tones. Natalie stepped forward. The towels shook in her hand momentarily, but with the speed of a tiger she clamped down on the panic and focused, like they had taught her to do her entire life. She tentatively reached out and started wiping away the blood. Dean chose that unfortunate moment to come back around, and let out a loud groan of pain. Natalie nearly jumped out of her skin and threw up at hearing that sound come from her father's lips, knowing that she had caused it. He immediately slipped back under, but she couldn't bring herself to reach out and start cleaning the wound again. The tidal wave of guilt threatened to drown her again.
"Natalie, come on. The longer it stays open, the longer he's gonna hurt. Get a move on," Sam ordered, but gently. Natalie just gave him a short, jerky nod- she didn't trust herself to open her mouth and not vomit. She pressed forward, cleaning the torn skin. Sam leaned down, watching carefully.
"Good," he murmured as Natalie finished the job. "Doesn't look like there's any signs of infection." Sam took one of the clean towels and gently began examining the wound, trying to see the extent of the damage. Natalie found herself holding her breath as Sam worked, praying that Sam could fix her father. After what seemed like a thousand years, Sam sighed in relief.
"The cuts aren't too deep, but I still need to stitch him up," he said almost absentmindedly as he bent down to work. Natalie leaned down as well, trying to watch, or be near enough to help if needed. "Bug, move. You're in the light," Sam murmured as he lowered the needle. That simple statement made Natalie feel like shit all over again. She quickly stepped back, almost tripping over the damp towels. She hastened to gather them up, giving her an excuse to move quickly away from Sam. She knew he was focused on Dean right now, but she didn't want him to see the tears in her eyes in case he looked up. She was worthless. She got in the way, she had gotten Dean hurt, and she hadn't stopped the werewolf. Everything she had ever wanted to be her entire life was crashing down around her tonight, and she could barely stand it. She couldn't do this. She could never be a Hunter.
She dropped the bloody towels in the bathroom and meticulously washed her hands. She was scrubbing for a good minute before she felt like she could pull herself back together again. Dean had gotten hurt on the hunt, and it was all her fault. If she hadn't been there, he wouldn't have had to push her out of the way, risking his own life, which he could have lost tonight. At the thought of a world without Dean in it, Natalie had to fight her own consciousness again. She couldn't imagine it- and yet, it had been right in front of her face. And it was all her fault.
She willed the angry wetness in her eyes to evaporate. She stoically dried her hands on one of the remaining clean towels, then walked quietly back to the main room. Sam was just finishing up his brother's stitches. He applied a salve and a large, white bandage to Dean's side. However, he saw his niece out of his peripheral vision.
"Nat, grab the bottle of bourbon in the fridge," he said tonelessly. "Your dad's gonna want it when he wakes up."
At that statement, her heart nearly stopped again. She willed her voice to not come out shakily. She hated herself, but she just had to ask. "Uncle Sam- he's gonna wake up, right?" she asked in a low, controlled voice. Sam had just finished taping the bandage in place. He looked up in surprise.
"Of course he will, Bug," he said, the confusion clear in his voice. Natalie, once again, just nodded in response, and went to the fridge. Sam didn't know why she would be asking that- it wasn't like Dean getting knocked out was anything new. Then he realized- this was all new to her. She had been in the field with them a few times, sometimes by choice, sometimes not- but this was the first time she had ever seen the serious damage happen first hand. He saw the stoic look on her face, and instantly knew what she was thinking. He had seen that look too many times on his brother's face to not know what she was thinking. He quickly wiped off the needle and put it back in the kit- he'd disinfect it later. Right now, there was a more pressing matter.
"Bug- come here," he said gently, standing up and holding his arms out to her. She just shook her head and threw him a lopsided smile, placing the bourbon bottle on the nightstand next to Dean. The gesture almost made Sam do a double take. She looks just like Dean when she does that, he thought to himself.
"I'm fine," she said, shrugging like nothing was bothering her.
"Natalie."
It was all he said, but it was all it took. Upon hearing Sam's low, gentle voice, Natalie's stoic act cracked. Her face crumpled, and she pinched her eyes shut tight to keep any tears from escaping. She couldn't move her worthless feet- if she did, she'd collapse. The next thing she knew, Sam's arms were winding around her. She turned and buried her face into his chest, gripping his flannel shirt tightly. Sam was thrown back in time for a moment. As a baby, when she was scared, she used to wind her hands in their shirts and pull them close to her face. Sam knew Natalie hated crying, so he had always figured that she was using their shirts as a way to mop up the tears that she didn't want touching her face. But he realized that it was also a comforting gesture to her- like holding onto a favorite blanket. He pulled her in close as she struggled for control.
"It's okay, he's gonna be okay sweetheart," Sam murmured to her. He felt her shake her head against his chest. He looked down. "What? Don't trust me?" he said jokingly. She gave a watery giggle, and a wave of relief swept over Sam. He knew that she was probably just freaking out about the whole situation- he remembered all too well the terror of his first hunt. He leaned back to look her in the face. "He really is going to be okay. You do know that, right?" he asked gently, searching her face. She just pinched her lips and looked away.
"It's not that. Well, not JUST that," she said quietly.
"Then what is it?" She shook her head again, but Sam knew her too well. She was covering up because she felt like she had to- because she felt like emotion was a weakness. But he and Dean had been very careful to make sure that she was able to express herself when she needed to. They never told her it was bad to cry- she had come up with that ridiculous theory on her own. Sam still wondered what had caused that in her, but now wasn't the time to pursue that train of thought. "Come on, Bug. What's really bothering you?"
At hearing the affectionate nickname, her resolve shattered, and the words came pouring out. "I'm a failure, that's what. I got Dad hurt, I couldn't take down the werewolf, I almost got myself killed by a stupid poltergeist, I..." At this, she ran out of air. She took a gulp accompanied by a small sob and continued. "I couldn't even open the right damn door to the car. Everything I touch is a disaster. I'm not meant to be a hunter and that's all I've ever wanted. And all I do is fail at it." She couldn't go on. The tears started pouring down her face. She dropped the front of Sam's shirt and began furiously batting them away. "Dammit," she hissed, hating as always the feeling of tears on her face. Sam bit back the scolding that wanted to surface at hearing her curse, but he knew it wasn't the time for that either. He leaned down and looked her right in the face.
"Now hold on. I don't want to hear anymore talk about you being a failure. You understand?" Natalie just rolled her eyes in response. Sam took her by the shoulders and gave her a little shake. The gesture surprised her, and she looked him right in the eye again. "Hey. I mean it. No more talk like that. Got it?"
"Yes, sir," she said miserably. Natalie knew that Sam felt like it was his duty to stop her from speaking poorly about herself, but that didn't change the fact that she still felt like an epic fail. However, she wasn't giving Sam enough credit. He shook his head, knowing that she was only giving him lip service.
"Nope. Don't give me that, Bug."
"Uncle Sam, I..."
"Just hold it a second, okay? Hear me out. You know why it wasn't a good idea to go hunting that poltergeist by yourself, right?"
"Because I was alone," she said, reciting the main point of last month's lectures.
"Exactly. Tonight, you had both your dad and me with you. And that thing still got the jump on the three of us." Natalie hadn't thought of it like that. She opened her mouth to speak again, but Sam interrupted her before she could even start. "You did everything right. Did you ever think for a second that Dean WOULDN'T jump in front of you if you were in danger during a hunt?"
Natalie shook her head despondently. He was missing the point. "But you don't understand..."
"What don't I understand?"
"Dad didn't even want me to go out in the first place. I know you're the one who convinced him to let me go. Don't try to deny it, because I know it's true. And he was right to keep me away. I almost messed up the whole thing and got him killed. I don't deserve to be a hunter."
Sam took a deep breath. "Natalie, your father didn't want you on the hunt because he was afraid that you would get hurt- he's always going to be worried about you getting hurt. But do you know why your dad finally agreed to let you go?" She shook her head, and Sam smiled gently. "Because he knew it would make you happy." Natalie's eyebrows shot up in surprise. She hadn't been expecting that. "He knew you could handle yourself. The only reason you didn't take down the poltergeist single handedly was because you were by yourself. It had nothing to do with your skill. It never has. And you seem to have forgotten that. Hell, come on. He's the one who's trained you. Do you think that he would have let you step foot in that forest if he didn't believe in you? If he didn't know you were top notch? Or that I would, for that matter?"
"But...but I almost got him killed."
"No, YOU didn't. He's the one who put himself in that position."
"And if I hadn't been there, he wouldn't have been in that position."
"The werewolf would have gone after me then. And he still would be in that position. Or it would have gone after him. And I would have been in that position. Bug, you did everything right. You kept your head, followed the plan, shot the damn thing point blank with a taser. Sometimes, things just don't work out the way they're supposed to. And that's why you always have someone watching your back. Do you get it now?" Sam searched Natalie's face carefully. A modicum of truth was creeping into her eyes. She was starting to believe him, even though Sam could tell she didn't want to.
"But I did stupid stuff like drop the keys, and get in your light..." Sam suddenly reached into his coat pocket and threw the Impala keys up in the air. Not expecting that, Natalie reached out to grab them, but was just a hair too late. She stared at the keys, then looked up at Sam like he'd suddenly lost his mind. He just cocked one eyebrow at her.
"Shit happens."
At that, Natalie's mouth dropped open. "Wow. You just...wow." Sam chuckled. Just then, Dean stirred. They instantly broke apart as their respective focuses zeroed in on Dean. Sam's long legs got him to Dean's side first. He sat down on the bed next to his brother.
"Dean," he said quietly. Natalie hung back, afraid of what Dean was going to think about the werewolf attack. She had just started to think that maybe this wasn't entirely due to her lack of skill, but now that Dean was awake, he might have a different viewpoint. Dean stirred again, then suddenly sat bolt upright and seized the front of Sam's shirt.
"Natalie! Is she okay?" Dean croaked out in his raspy voice, still hoarse from the screaming earlier. His eyes were crazed as he panicked about his daughter. Sam placed a firm, gentle hand on his brother's shoulders and steadied him.
"She's fine, man."
"Where is she?!" His eyes slid around the room, still swimming a bit from coming back to consciousness, and they landed on her. Upon seeing her whole and relatively unharmed, Dean slumped back onto the pillows, exhaling loudly. Natalie darted to his side. When she got there, his eyes were closed again, but there was a smile on his face.
"Thank God," he muttered, then opened up his eyes again. "You did good back there, squirt."
"Told ya," Sam said softly, grinning at her. Her eyes darted back and forth between the two of them, clearly of the opinion that they had both gone bananas.
"But Dad, you had to save me from the werewolf. I messed up," she said bleakly. Better to own up to your mistakes with Dean upfront than try to beat around the bush. Dean, however, gave Natalie the surprise of her life. He shrugged nonchalantly, just like Sam had a moment ago.
"Werewolf got lucky. Well, not so lucky in the long run, I'm guessing," Dean said. He looked at Sam for confirmation. Sam smiled proudly at Natalie.
"She finished him off herself. Two silver bullets to the heart," he said, his voice ringing with pride. Dean's grin widened.
"Damn. Wish I'd been awake to see that," he grumbled. Natalie's jaw dropped to the floor.
"Now do you believe me?" Sam asked Natalie. Dean's eyes slid back to his daughter.
"What? What'd I miss?" he asked, worried that something else had happened to her. Then he saw a rarity- Natalie smiled. She actually smiled.
"I just...I was just worried that you were going to ban me from hunting for life for getting your side ripped open," she said quietly, but her radiating smile told a different story.
Dean chuckled, low. "Not today. Now let's fix that shoulder."
Natalie just stared at him as her hand went instinctively to her damaged shoulder. "Wha- how? How did you know?"
"I'm your father. I know everything," he said with a sleepy grin. It was Sam's turn to laugh at that. As he pulled Natalie back towards him and began gently examining her shoulder, he determined it was just a bad sprain. But before he let her go, he looked back into her eyes.
"You good, Bug?" he whispered.
With a smile, she answered, "Yeah. I'm good." She still had a long way to go, but she wasn't going to give up on hunting. Not today.
