Good Morning SPN Family!
I don't know about you, but I'm happy and heartbroken that our team is filming their final two episodes right now. So here's something funny to distract you from thinking about that! This was another quarantine creation (see what I mean when I say it takes me forever to publish? I wrote this in APRIL) that just kinda spiraled out of my mind and out of control, hee hee hee. If you've requested something, I'm working on it, I promise. Thank you for your patience.
Special thanks to the best beta/author/sister in the world, Jenmm31. Go show her some love! And keep it in the road- the show may be ending, but the SPN Family is forever.
A/N- in this story, Natalie is 12. Please see profile page for disclaimer.
The second she stepped out of the car, Natalie threw her arms wide, turning her face to the shiny blue sky. "Ah, now we're talking," she purred appreciatively. "Oh yeah, this is nice." Beside her as he exited from the passenger's side, Sam snickered.
"Wow. You were really getting cabin fever, huh? If you think that a trip to the Gas 'N Sip is heaven?" he asked jovially as they both shut their doors.
"You have no idea," she moaned dramatically, causing him to laugh again. "That algebra that you're having me work on is the worst," she said haughtily.
Sam gave her his patented patient smile, which made her roll her eyes before he even opened up his mouth. "It's your own fault for being ahead of your grade level, otherwise you'd be on simpler stuff," he said with a patronizing shrug as they made their way towards the front of the car.
"Well, why can't we do something more…cool?"
"'More' cool? Like what?"
"Like potions or spells or something. You still have to measure out ingredients. I can still get math crap in, but at least it'd be cool."
"Algebra IS cool."
"Yeah, if you're a nerd."
"And now you're sounding like your father."
"What's wrong with that?" Dean asked, pretending to be insulted as they met at the front door of the convenient store. He held the door open for Natalie to go through, but barged his way in front of his brother with a superior look.
"Real mature, Dean," Sam said quietly, not wanting to start bickering in the middle of a Gas N' Sip but not able to let it go, either.
"You started it," Dean quipped back immediately. "Alright troops, get to it," he ordered. "Sammy, paper plates, trash bags, coffee, and whatever school crap you said you needed." Sam opened his mouth to remind him, but Dean quickly cut him off. "Yeah, I don't care. Just get it." Before Sam could furiously retort, Dean turned to Natalie. "Squirt," he said in a commanding voice.
"Yes, sir!" she responded, snapping a salute playfully.
"Bread, fruit, jerky, lunchmeat, and enough candy to sink a ship."
"I am so on it."
"Atta girl. Get going," he ordered. Without missing a beat, Natalie spun around and took off, eager to complete her mission. Dean grinned. Man, it was totally worth the hassle of keeping a kid alive for twelve years for moments like this. He headed to the incredibly important areas himself- auto oil and then beer.
About five minutes later, the small family met at the front register, bounty in hand. Sam plucked the four one-pound bags of Skittles out of Natalie's arms before she could even hoist them on the counter, causing him to receive a bitch face for the ages. Dean pulled out his wallet and paid for the lot, using their special credit card from Charlie. Natalie smiled upon seeing it; she hoped Charlie would get back from Oz soon. She missed her.
They grabbed their purchases and headed back to the Impala parked behind the store. This particular convenient store location was weird. The store itself was directly on the corner of intersecting streets, and the parking lot was actually behind it. It was as if the store was discouraging people from coming in by making it harder to park. Whatever. Rounding the corner and heading to the back parking lot with the gang in tow, Dean reached in his pocket for his keys- and didn't feel them there. He did a quick pat down, but realized with an annoyed eye roll that he must have left them on the counter while he was paying. He turned to Natalie.
"I think I left my car keys on the counter."
"Sucks to be you."
"Ha ha. Go get 'em."
With a giggle, Natalie obeyed, racing back towards the front of the store. Sam smiled, watching her run like that. "You think I could get her to go jogging with me in the mornings?" he asked his brother with a wry grin.
"Hey! I am not gonna let you be a negative influence on my child by taking her jogging, Samuel," Dean retorted back, pointing a finger at Sam's face.
Sam shook his head and laughed. "It's Sam and you know it. You've already got her running laps, what's the difference whether it's jogging or what?"
"The difference is training versus what she does in her free time. I mean, what kind of father would I be if I let my child…" Dean stopped to make a dramatic horrified face. "…exercise?"
"Jogging is not that bad."
"I know you think it keeps you healthy, but, my god, at what cost?"
"It's better than a never ending diet of cheeseburgers and beer."
"Hey, all I'm saying is I'm not dead," Dean said smarmily, stretching his hands wide. Then he stopped to amend his statement. "Well, not from those things."
Before Sam could come back with a witty quip, another voice interrupted. "That's a damn shame," came a high-pitched, snarky tone from behind them. Sam and Dean instantly went into hunter mode, whipping around towards the source of the sound. From around the giant green dumpster, a petite blonde came sauntering towards them. She was gorgeous- tiny waist, other parts not so tiny, and long, obviously treated hair. But that wasn't what caught Dean's eye. It was the look of pure fury on the woman's face.
"Hello, Dean," she said, planting her feet in an angry stance about eight feet away from him. Dean's forehead instantly broke out in a light sweat.
"Oh, hey Claudia," he said, slapping on his most charming grin. Sam took two seconds to look over at Dean. He recognized this girl. From the bar last night. Oh boy. This wasn't good.
"Don't you 'hey Claudia' me!" she shrieked back. Dean reared back a bit in surprise. "Where the hell were you this morning?" Before Dean could answer, she let loose again. "You just think you can up and run out on me, like I'm some kind of cheap hooker that doesn't even deserve a good morning? What do you have to say to that?!"
Dean opened his mouth to respond, but Sam beat him to the punch. "Dean!" he chided. "You said you just stayed for another drink last night!" Dean had the decency to looked abashed, but as he opened his mouth to respond this time, he was interrupted again.
"That's what he told you?!" Claudia shrieked again, turning her attention to Sam in her rage. Sam immediately threw his hands up in surrender, almost a knee-jerk reaction to her anger. "He told you that he only stayed for a DRINK?"
"Uh- yes?" Sam answered hesitantly. He looked at Dean. "Why didn't you tell me the truth?"
Before Dean could even inhale to try to respond this time, Claudia interrupted again, still screaming at Sam. "You're gonna get all uppity about him not telling you where he was going, and not about the fact that he just up and ditched me in the middle of the freaking night?! Seriously?!" she yelled, her tone going even higher.
"Hey, are either one of you gonna let me talk?" Dean interjected loudly. Neither of them paid him any attention.
"Well, contrary to what he TOLD you, he came home with me last night!" yelled Claudia.
"Wait- he was with you?! The whole time?" said Sam, matching her tone.
"So…that's a no on the talking thing, then? Okay, cool," said Dean casually.
"Yeah, he was with me!" she yelled back at Sam, before turning her laser eyes on Dean again. The anger blooming in her face was making her pretty features contort monstrously. "AND he decided that he could up and sneak out when we fell asleep! Do you know how that made me feel, you arrogant prick?!"
"Hey, Claudia, look, I'm really sorry," Dean said, attempting an apologetic look. "I know I told you last night that I had to get up early for work…"
"Yeah, some work!" she shouted at him, gesturing furiously to the bags of junk food in his hands. "You look like you're working SO hard!" she snarled.
Just then, something caught Dean's eyes. It was another pair of eyes, green, large, and gut-wrenchingly familiar. Natalie had obviously heard the argument and was hiding out around the corner until the coast was clear, peeking around to see what was up. Dean willed the blood that was rushing to his cheeks in embarrassment to just cool it as he quickly locked eyes with her. He casually flicked one finger in her direction, so subtly that anyone who didn't know him would think it was simply a twitching muscle. But Natalie knew exactly what it meant. Get away, go hide, stay hidden until the danger was past. Not that Dean expected much danger from Blondie, but his twelve-year-old kid suddenly waltzing into the middle of this none-too-delicate situation would definitely not help matters. Natalie's eyes disappeared back behind the wall, and Dean's guts settled themselves a bit, knowing that she was out of this woman's sight.
Dean's eyes went back to Claudia, who was all but snorting in rage. "I did! I had to work this morning!" he lied through his teeth. "I had to work earlier this morning, but my partner and I are…" He flicked his gaze over to Sam, looking for some help. Sam just gave him a snarling bitch face back. Okay, he was clearly on his own here. "…getting supplies for our stakeout," he answered back confidently. "Remember? I told you all about being a police officer and all that last night?" He raised his eyebrows suggestively. The thing that had really gotten her motor going was the fact that he was an 'officer of the law'. Apparently she was into power. Big time.
"How stupid do you think I am?" she shot back malevolently. Dean chose wisely not to answer that question. "You think I'm really buying that a police officer is gonna stock up on BEER before a stakeout?!" Dammit, he'd forgotten about the twelve pack in his hand.
"I'm so sorry," Sam chimed in softly. Claudia's head whipped around so fast, Sam couldn't believe she didn't dislocate a couple vertebrae in her neck. He held up his hands again, puppy dog eyes activated as he was trying to calm her down. "I'm sorry he treated you that way. He's an idiot."
"Hey!" Dean hollered.
Once again ignoring his brother, Sam continued. "You see?" he said placatingly. But it was too late for that.
"It's a shame you work with such an idiot," she hissed contemptuously. "Guess that makes you an idiot too, doesn't it, Jolly Green?" Sam's jaw dropped- what had he done?! Before he could react, she kept speaking. "Too bad. Guess I'm just gonna have to deal with both of you at once." She suddenly grounded her stance, and stretched her hands out, one towards each of them. "RIGESCUNT INDUTAE, DOLOREM COLES!" she screamed. Without warning, jets of icy blue light shot out of her hands, right into the boys.
All Dean could see for a second was a wash of blue light, then he felt the shock as it pulsed into his body. He felt every part of him go ridged, almost like rigor mortis. As the light worked its way through him, it left nothing but frozen muscles in its wake. What the hell?! What…what was that? What had she just done?! He tried to turn his head to see if Sammy had gotten hit, but he couldn't move his neck. He couldn't move his feet, his arms, his hands- just…nothing. He couldn't move anything except his eyes and his mouth. He could still hear though, and Sam groaned loudly. "Sammy!" Dean called out, wanting to make sure he was alright.
"Still here," came the strained reply. Suddenly, Natalie came into his sight.
"Dad! Uncle Sam! What the hell? What was that?!" she asked in a nervous rush.
"Where did Claudia go?" Dean asked instead of answering her question. He knew that if Natalie was walking into the scene, Claudia must be gone. Natalie shook his head, her alarmed eyes wide.
"She just disappeared. She was here a second ago, and then she just vanished in a cloud of black smoke," she said, looking around the parking lot. She suddenly took off towards where she'd seen Claudia standing last. Unfortunately, it was out of Dean's eyesight, and he panicked for a moment. "No, no smell of sulfur or anything," came Natalie's voice, before she trotted back into Dean's eyeline. "I don't think she's a demon."
"No, she's definitely NOT a demon," came Sam's voice. Dean still couldn't look at him, but he could picture the look on Sam's face from the tone in his voice. Teeth clenched, nostrils flaring, and bitch face fully activated. "Hey Dean?" Sam said in a light voice dripping with sarcasm. "So you know all that crap that's been happening around town that we haven't been able to explain yet?"
"Yeah, yeah, I know," Dean answered bitterly. "Witches. It's gotta be witches."
"Yeah, no shit, Sherlock!" Sam snapped.
"You slept with a witch?!" Natalie asked her father, startled.
"Oh. You heard that part, huh?"
"Hard to miss it, Dad. How did you not know she was a witch? Didn't you say you went to her place? And she didn't have stuff there that tipped you off?"
"I am not having this conversation with you, kid."
"She raises a good point, Dean."
"Shut up, Sam."
Dean tried to move his feet again, but he was completely frozen to the ground, all his muscles locked in place. "Either one of you recognize that spell?"
"I'm pretty sure it's a freezing spell. You can't move either?" Sam asked, his voice strained as he tried to move.
"Not a bit."
"How the hell are we gonna get out of this?"
"I can help!" Natalie chirped, suddenly excited by the prospect of using her supernatural knowledge. "I can find the counter spell!"
"Bug, all our books are back at the motel. I don't know what we would need off the top of my head."
"So…how do we get back to the motel? We can't freaking move and I am NOT leaving Baby here where that bitch might come back and do something to her."
"I mean…I could drive her. I can still move."
There was a couple seconds of stunned silence as Dean's brain went massively into overdrive. NO. There was no way he was letting his little, innocent, twelve-year-old CHILD drive Baby. Just the overall WRONGNESS of that entire thought was way more than any father should ever have to take in his lifetime. But he couldn't crush Natalie's dreams of driving- not just yet. He'd have to be gentle. But before he could figure out exactly how to do that, Sam spoke.
"I…I don't think we have any other choice, Bug. I think you're gonna have to."
"Now hold on a second!" Dean yelled in a panicked voice.
"I mean, I don't know how I'm gonna get you guys in the car, but I have to try."
"We can figure something out, don't worry."
"How is this even up for discussion?! And what's with the 'everybody ignore Dean talking' thing right now?!"
"I mean, I guess I can Google how to drive…"
"You could, but that's not going to help you in real time. You can't be looking at your phone while driving anyways, that's not safe."
"None of this is gonna be really safe, if you think about it…"
"ALRIGHT, ENOUGH!" Dean roared. Natalie jumped at the furious sound of her father's voice. Sam would have jumped if he could have moved. "Both of you shut up, right now," he commanded. "Natalie, you are not driving. End of discussion."
"But Dad, how else am I supposed to get back to the motel to look up the counter spell? I can't walk- it's a twenty-minute drive. I can't leave you all frozen here for the three hours that's gonna take."
"Well, just…Google what spell to use. We probably have the ingredients in the trunk. Easy. Done."
"Dean, even if she was able to do that, we might not have ALL the ingredients in the trunk, in which case she'd still have to drive to get ingredients. She'd have to identify them by herself and drive back to us. And let's be honest- Google isn't exactly going to be our most reliable source here. Without me double checking what the books say, who knows what could happen?"
"Dad, I can do it. I know I can."
Dean spluttered and stammered for a moment, before alighting on a brilliant idea. His best idea ever. He was a genius. "Natalie, call for Cas. He'll come bail us out." There was silence for a second.
"Yes, sir," came the quiet response. Dean's face contorted. He could hear the disappointment in his daughter's voice, but this was safer. Way safer than letting his little girl behind the wheel. He completely ignored the fact that his own father taught him how to drive when he was ten. He'd teach her to drive later when it was much, much safer. Like when she was thirty. Maybe.
"Hey Cas?" she called out, looking to the sky. Dean confidently expected to hear the whoosh and familiar 'Hello Natalie' that happened every time she called him. But there was nothing. "Castiel?" Natalie called out a bit louder, looking around herself in the parking lot. After a couple moments of silence, she tried again, yelling this time. Still nothing. "I don't think he's coming. Probably busy," she said, the excitement unmistakably creeping back into her voice. Dean closed his eyes resignedly, but dammit, he still had to try.
"Okay, we gotta think up another strategy," he said desperately. He heard Natalie let out a loud groan of frustration.
"Dad! Why do you-" Natalie began angrily, but was interrupted by a thud and an 'oof'. "Oh my god, Uncle Sam, I'm so sorry!" she said in a rush. "I'm so sorry, I didn't even think about the bag."
"What?" Dean asked loudly. "What happened?!"
"It's okay Bug," Sam wheezed back, obviously in pain. "It was an accident."
"Oh my god, I am so sorry…"
"HEY! Can't see you two over here, what happened?"
"Oh! Oh yeah, sorry Dad," Natalie said, trotting over to him so he could see her. "So I turned around fast to…say something to you…" Dean noted the omitted 'yell at you' from her vocabulary, but chose not to address it. "…and my bag swung out and…kinda clocked Uncle Sam between the legs." She clenched her teeth, embarrassed. "And there were canned goods in the bag."
Dean burst out laughing. "Are you serious?" he chortled. "Aw man, I'm sorry I missed that one."
"Jerk."
"Bitch."
"Okay, now that you guys have that out of your system," Natalie interjected in an irritated tone. She turned back to Sam, but then stopped, surprised. "Whoa," she said. "Uncle Sam, you moved!"
"What?"
"You're bent in half! You were just standing straight a minute ago!"
"Wait…what the hell?! She's right!" Sam said, stunned. Dean's eyes strained to look at his brother. He could just barely make him out from the corner of his gaze. Sam's torso was now at a forty-five degree angle to the ground.
"So- hang on. Does that mean that…" Natalie mused quietly. Dean didn't get a chance to ask her what she was thinking before whipped around and delivered a roundhouse kick to the back of his leg behind his knee.
"OW!" he roared. Apparently, the freezing spell didn't stop him from feeling pain. "Natalie, what the hell?!" he yelled at her. She walked back around to his front, a disappointed look on her face.
"I thought maybe if I hit your knee, it would move and we could get you to the car. Well, damn. Apparently it doesn't work with everyone."
"And you just decided to clock me without saying anything first to see if it would?!"
"I was doing scientific research!"
"I'm gonna scientific research you!"
"Guys," interrupted Sam in a strained voice. "I…I just realized something."
"What?" Natalie and Dean asked in tandem.
"The Latin…the phrase that Claudia used…"
"What about it?"
"Well, the last two words meant 'pain' and…well…to be delicate… 'junk'."
"Junk?"
"You know what I mean."
Pause. "No, I don't."
"Dean."
"Well, I don't!"
"I mean…junk. Like…jewels. Family jewels. Cohones. Bobby's favorite catch phrase."
"You mean…"
"Yup."
"Ohhhhhh. So THAT means…."
"Apparently we only can move if we have…pain in our…junk."
There was complete and utter silence for ten seconds.
"Man, I freaking HATE witches!" Dean roared suddenly, causing Natalie to jump again.
"Oh yeah, it was the WITCH that was the problem in this situation, Dean, not the fact that you screwed her and left in the middle of the night."
"Not helping, Samuel! Besides, you can't translate the FIRST part of that spell, but you know the Latin word for 'dick'?!"
"You're gonna bust on me for that?! YOU'RE the one who got us into this! You freaking pissed a witch off so much that the only thing you can do to save yourself is to get popped in the nuts!"
Ignoring their bickering, Natalie scurried back over to Sam. "Whoa, hey, what are you doing?" Sam asked in a rush as Natalie approached him. She rolled her eyes.
"Don't worry," she said in that same patronizing tone that he had used earlier. "I think that…" She didn't finish her statement. Instead, she nudged the bag of canned goods over to the side from where she dropped it. She wrapped her hands around Sam's left bicep, dug her heels in to the asphalt, and pulled back. Sam tilted towards her alarmingly.
"Whoa, whoa, WHOA!" he hollered. "Natalie, what are…" Before he could finish his surprised declaration, Natalie pivoted. Sam was now profile to the Impala. He suddenly realized what she was doing. With him in a completely frozen state, she was using his foot as a pivot point while using the motion of the rest of him to actually move him. And even more to his surprise, it was working. His eyes darted over to her. "Genius," he complimented her with a grin.
She shrugged modestly and matched his grin. "Math," she answered. She continued rocking and pivoting him until he was right next to the back door of the Impala. She opened the door, and pivoted him so his butt was facing the backseat. She wiped a hand across her sweaty brow. Even though she'd been using his momentum, it was still damn hard work moving someone who was a good foot plus taller than her. She bit her lip, thinking. Sam watched her, wanting to offer some help, but coming up blank. Suddenly, he saw it dawn in her eyes. And realized what it meant just a second too late.
"Natalie, no no no…" was all he got out before Natalie squeezed her eyes shut and used the top of her foot to kick him right in the crotch. His torso buckled again, now parallel with the ground, his knees slightly bent. He couldn't have said anything more if he wanted to as he was trying to remember how to breathe.
"I'm really sorry, but you wouldn't fit into the car if you were still upright," she said apologetically, before rushing out of his line of sight. He heard the trunk open and close, the other backdoor open, and Natalie scramble onto the seat. Without any other explanation, she began twisting what felt like a length of medium sized rope around his stiff-as-a-board shoulder sockets. He still couldn't catch his breath enough to ask her what she was doing now, before he felt an almighty tug and went flying backwards. The top of his head clocked the Impala's frame as he tilted into the backseat.
"GAAAAH," he roared in pain, crashing onto the leather seat. He became aware of a muffled grunt of pain behind him, and suddenly understood what she had done. She had planted her feet on the other side of the Impala's metal frame and used the leverage to pull Sam into the car, knocking herself backwards to the ground in the process. He didn't feel much sympathy, but he had to hand it to her- he was in the car. On his back. Still frozen. With his knees and feet up in the air like a dead possum. Great.
Natalie picked herself up off the ground, cursing and brushing the asphalt crumbles off her arms and shoulders. She shook her dark hair a couple times, trying to dislodge any remaining crap. "Geez. Most kids my age only have to worry about remembering their locker combination, not this shit," she grumbled to herself. She walked into Dean's line of vision, already biting her lip in apology of what she was going to have to do. Dean instantly knew what was coming.
"Nope. I'm good. I'm just gonna stay right here," he declared loudly. "Sam can talk you through getting back to the motel, I'm good."
"Dad, Uncle Sam is on his back in the backseat. He won't be able to see anything," Natalie said apologetically. "Also, I think…I think that how HARD you get hit determines how much you move. The first time I hit Uncle Sam, it wasn't really that hard…"
"Beg to differ!" came Sam's voice from the backseat.
"And he only moved a little," Natalie mused as if Sam hadn't interrupted her. "So if I kick you really good, I might only have to do it once."
"MIGHT?!" was all Dean got out before Natalie swung her leg back and kicked him with everything she had. Immediately Dean felt his stomach buckle, and- once his eyes stopped watering- realized he was now looking at the ground. He became vaguely aware through the blinding pain that Natalie was patting him on the back sympathetically.
"I'm sorry, but you're the one who taught me not to give any indication of when something was gonna hurt," she said hesitantly. "Like cleaning a wound or popping a dislocated shoulder back into place, right? And see? My theory worked too. I only had to kick you once and you're in the perfect position!"
"Yay," came Dean's wheezy reply. Natalie started the arduous task of tilting and pivoting Dean towards the car. She realized that she was gonna have to get him seated in the front seat, facing the road, so her brain was going a mile a minute as she grunted, heaved, and pulled him towards the car. She got him sideways next to the passenger's side. She stood, tapping her finger on her lips for a moment. Dean recognized the gesture from her younger years. She was thinking hard.
"Okay," Natalie finally said. "If I tilt you SIDEWAYS, I can probably pull the rest of you into the car, and then sit you upright. That way, you can see the road." She immediately started wrapping the rope around his frozen chest.
"Wait, wait!" Dean yelled. Natalie froze. "Move the tapes. Move the tapes!" he begged. If he crushed his own cassette tapes after everything else today, he was just DONE with life.
"Oh! Right!" she answered back, hopping back into the front seat of the Impala, and hauling out the old cardboard box full of Dean's music. She opened the backseat door, gently placing the box next to Sam so it didn't crash into his already sore head. She closed the door and climbed back into the front seat, ready to pull her dad in.
A couple agonizing, sweaty minutes later, Natalie finally succeeded in getting Dean upright in Baby's front seat. "I tried to analyze the angle better this time," she explained, buckling Dean in as best she could. "I didn't want you to hit your head too."
"Good call," came the dry response from the backseat. Natalie rolled her eyes, shut the passenger door, then trotted around to the front seat. She slid in, nothing but excitement running through her veins. And then it clicked. She was about to drive for the very first time. Not only that, but she was driving BABY. THE Baby. The only thing that she ever wondered if Dean loved more than her. Not that she wondered that often, but she sometimes wondered. Cold, hard fear instantly replaced that buzz in her blood, and she was terrified.
"Hey," came a faint voice from her right. It was faint because she was so trapped in the fear in her own mind, nothing much else was coming through. But that voice, that singular voice could pull her out of the depths, every time. She turned her head. Dean was looking as far to his left as he could, trying to get her attention, hating that he couldn't turn his head to look her in the eye. "You can do this," he said. He internally regretted being hesitant at first, knowing that that memory probably wasn't helping her panic, but he couldn't go back and change the past. "Come on. You're the smartest kid I know. I'm right here. Sam's right here. You're gonna do just fine."
Sam chimed in from the backseat. "Come on, Bug. You got this."
Fortified by the knowledge that the two people she loved most in the world believed in her, she deftly put the keys in the ignition. Before she twisted, though, Dean interrupted.
"Before you turn her on, press down on the brake. Left pedal. Use your right foot," he instructed. Natalie nodded, but before she did any of that, she buckled her seat belt.
"Good job, Bug," came Sam's praise from the back, upon hearing the click of the belt into place. Dean barely refrained from rolling his eyes, trying to remind himself to be supportive right now and tease Sam about his nerdy safety-pants self later.
"Alright. Turn her on, kiddo."
Natalie twisted the key in the ignition while pressing down on the brake as hard as she could. Baby responded immediately, roaring to life. That sound was so comforting, so familiar, that for two seconds, Natalie's fears were abated.
"Nice job. See? She purrs for you just like she does for me," Dean praised. "Okay. You see the gearshift? On the right of the steering wheel?"
"The gear… what?"
"The…stick thingy with the ball on the end?"
"Oh! Yeah, I see it."
"Alright. Now look right above the steering wheel. You see on the dashboard, the letters like R, D, N- see those?"
"Yeah."
"Good. Pull the gearshift gently towards you and move it down. That moves the indicator to tell you what gear you're moving into. You're gonna want R for reverse. Keep your foot on the brake."
With a deep breath, Natalie did as she was instructed, but in her nervousness, shifted way past R. "It went past!" she nearly shrieked, stressed out to the max.
"It's okay, it's okay," Dean said hurriedly. "Just try it again, and if you go past, just go back until you land on it." Biting her lip hard, Natalie pulled on the gear shaft again. To her immense joy, she landed on the 'R'.
"I did it!" she exalted.
"Nice," Dean said. "Okay. Slowly release the brake, and the car is gonna go backwards."
"Check your mirrors first!" Sam interjected in a panicked tone.
"Right, right- mirrors," Dean said, inwardly cursing that he'd forgotten that. "Look in the mirror behind you and beside you. You can turn around and look too, but don't-"
Natalie turning in her seat and forgetting to keep the brake pressed down interrupted him. She gasped as the car started rolling backwards and stomped back on the brake in her nervous state. The car lunged to a stop, slamming all of them backwards. "-forget to keep the brake pressed down," he finished lamely.
"Sorry," she said in a tiny voice.
"It's okay. Try again. And this time, after you've checked that you're clear to back up, you're gonna twist the wheel to the left. That'll point you in the direction of the exit, alright?" He heard Natalie take a deep breath, and he saw the car starting to move at a snail's pace. In her nervous state, she was riding the brake, but now wasn't exactly the time to chastise her about that. It took about three minutes for her to go ten feet, but Dean found himself oddly calm and patient. One of those 'Dad' things, he supposed.
"Okay. Good. Brake with your right foot," he instructed. The car lurched to a standstill and he heard her mumble a couple curse words under her breath. "Now, use the gear shift, make it point at the 'D' for Drive." She did. "Pull forward and turn right, after you've checked that no one is coming on your left."
"Where's the turn signal?"
"You don't need it. Just turn right."
"But you always complain about those people who don't use theirs."
"This is different, just do it."
"Bug, it's on the left of the steering wheel. Push that stick thing up for right."
Dean heard the clicking of the turn signal. It annoyed him a bit since they had much bigger fish to fry right now, but he chose not to say anything. The car oh-so-slowly crept forward, but Natalie was carefully turning the wheel to the right, so she made it perfectly into the small side street. Dean grinned.
"That's my girl!" he said. "Alright- this is gonna get tricky," he said hesitantly. "You're gonna need to cross all the way across those three lanes of traffic and turn left."
"I can't do that!" Natalie shrieked, instantly panicking. "There are way too many cars coming, and how am I supposed to see them all? I don't even know how to go fast and you think I'm gonna be able to cross three lanes of traffic?!"
"Okay, okay, calm down," Dean interrupted her panicked babbling. "We can go another way- it's okay." Years of back roads and not knowing which street led where in what town had given him a pretty good sense of how roads were laid out. "Watch carefully, and when you can, turn right."
Natalie nodded, gripping the wheel so tightly that her knuckles threatened to split the skin. She waited until the road was 100% clear and inched her way to the right.
"Kid, you gotta give it a little more gas, you're gonna have to go faster."
"O-okay."
"Good. Now use your right foot."
"I thought that foot was for the brake!"
"Use your right foot for both- it'll help you when you learn to drive a stick."
"A stick?! Drive a STICK? What is that?!"
"Don't worry about it now! Just use your right foot and put it on the pedal on the far right." Baby snarled and lunged forward. Dean heard Natalie gasp, but before she could stomp on the brake, he interjected.
"Easy, kid, easy!" he shouted. For some reason, that broke through her panicked haze, and she let up on the accelerator a bit. "There you go, there you go," he said soothingly as Baby found a decent speed. "That's the way. Okay, next time you can turn right, do it."
By the sheer grace of God, decent stoplights, and a couple wackadoodle roundabouts through random subdivisions, Natalie crept onto the main road that was an almost straight shot back to the motel. Dean and Sam kept up the verbal encouragements, both grateful in their own heads that they were both frozen and couldn't stomp on imaginary brakes or gas as that would only have made her more nervous. She was gaining a bit more confidence and was moving only slightly slower than the flow of traffic.
They started traveling down the main road. Even though she wasn't as panicked as she had been a few minutes ago, Natalie still planted herself firmly in the right lane. "Eyes on the road, kiddo," Dean said gently, as she kept swerving her glance between her mirrors.
"How the hell are you supposed to look everywhere at once?" she muttered, calming down a bit more.
"You're not. Not really. Only look in the mirrors when you need to or you see something coming up fast in 'em."
"Oh! Like staying focused forward on a hunt, but keeping your periphery aware?"
"Exactly!" Dean crowed, thrilled that she came up with that first. If Natalie could relate something she was trying to learn back to hunting, she was good to go- she had it. She got a little braver and pushed the gas a little bit more. Baby responded like she'd been waiting for it. Dean could see the grin spreading on his daughter's face in his mind's eye. Just then, a truck swerved around them, even though she was actually finally going the speed limit. The driver sped past her and swerved directly in front of her, not even giving a shit that he had cut her off. Without a second thought, Natalie slammed her right hand into the horn, then flipped him off.
"YOU ASSHOLE!" she hollered at the driver.
"Natalie Grace!" Sam yelled over the backseat.
"You tell him, Squirt! That was AWESOME!" Dean cheered from the front. "Well, you get an A plus for road rage, kid." Check that parenting box off.
Once both hands were back on the wheel, Natalie realized that the motel was up in front of them. Taking a deep breath, she turned the right turn signal on, slowed down enough to take the turn safely, and guided Baby towards a parking spot like she'd been doing it a million years.
"Yes, yes! You did it kid!" Dean cheered. "Okay, bring her home. Right foot," he encouraged, trying to remind her to use her right foot to brake. Natalie minded him immediately. Unfortunately, in her exuberance, Natalie forgot that her right foot was on the gas.
Baby suddenly roared forward towards the very sturdy and thick concrete pillar that was adorning the walkway along the front hallway of the motel. Everything moved too fast. She couldn't figure out what had happened- Dean had said 'right foot' and she did that, so why was she going forward?! At the last second she realized her mistake and stomped on the brake with everything she had in her. Baby stopped inches from the concrete pillar as the family was thrown forwards and back in their seats again. Barely daring to breathe, Natalie didn't move. It was perfectly silent in the car for ten seconds while Dean and Natalie both stared at that concrete pillar.
"Uh….okay," Dean said in a voice that was significantly higher than he had intended. He swallowed hard. "Put her in Park, carefully." Still in her wooden state, Natalie pulled the gearshift towards 'P'. "Okay, turn her off." She obeyed, and Baby purred to sleep. In tandem, they both took a deep breath and collected themselves. "Alright, then. Alright! You did it, kid!" Dean said, trying to revive the encouragement in his voice and banish the idea of Baby's front grill completely caved in from him mind. "You did great!"
Natalie swallowed hard again, as if she was trying not to vomit. She nodded in assent, then turned to Dean. Suddenly, her lungs expanded, and she took an actual deep breath. "Dad, I did it!"
"Hell yeah, you did!"
Natalie flipped around in her seat and leaned over the back seat. "Uncle Sam, I did it!" she said breathlessly.
Sam smile couldn't have been wider. "I never doubted you for a minute, Bug. Alright. You ready for the next part?" A grin identical to Sam's spread across Natalie's face.
"Oh, YEAH," she breathed, sounding like Rocket from Guardians of the Galaxy. He couldn't help but laugh- of COURSE she was ready for the next part. Without another word, she bolted out of the car, fishing her own room key from her pocket. She burst into the room, knowing exactly what book to look for. She pawed through the books on the table until she saw the familiar dark green leather.
Looking both ways in the parking lot, she came casually back out to the car. It was bad enough that Sam and Dean were still in a completely frozen state, but if someone were to see a kid walking through the parking lot with a spell book…Natalie slid back into the driver's seat and began flipping through it.
"Which one did you get?" Sam asked anxiously.
"The Black Grimoire."
"Okay, good," he said, breathing a sigh of relief. Not that he'd expected her to even find the Book of the Damned, but with Natalie, one never knew. "I think binding spells are somewhere in the first third of the book."
"Really?" commented Dean dryly. "You've read it that many times, that you just KNOW where they're located? You are such a nerd."
"You really wanna spend more time as a statue, jackass?" Sam shot back hotly. "You ought to be grateful that I know where they are. We'll get out of this faster."
Dean rolled his eyes but didn't respond. He could hear Natalie flipping through the pages. "Okay," she finally said. "I think I found something. It's not exactly an unfreezing spell, but it's supposed to undo aggressive magic." She leaned over the seat again to look at Sam. "Do you think if we add a 'heat' element, that'll do it?" she asked him anxiously.
Sam thought about it. He wasn't wild about the idea- he and Dean might both end up with heat rashes in sensitive areas- but what other option did they have? "I think it's worth a shot," he said, trying to speak in a bright tone. "Do you recognize the ingredients you'll need?"
She did. Looking carefully around again for anyone who might be in sight, she popped Baby's trunk and withdrew the couple things that she was going to need. She snatched a scrying bowl as well, dumped all the bottles and whatnot into it, and set it on the ground next to her. It took her a few tries to reach the trunk lid to close it, seeing as she was still pretty short. She was grateful that neither Sam nor Dean could hear her cursing at it, because even though Dean usually thought her swearing hilarious, there were still certain words that were technically off limits until she was older, and she was verbally dumping every single one of them right now trying to get the damn trunk closed.
After finally succeeding, she grabbed the bowl and opened up the backseat. "Okay, I got 'em," she said breathlessly. "Should I just mix it up in the front?"
"No, I want to see how you're doing it," Sam said. "It's not that I don't trust you Bug- it's that some of these can get complicated if they're not done properly." Natalie nodded stoically, but then a look of confusion crossed her face.
"Um…how are we gonna do this?" she asked, leaning into the car so her face was hovering. "I mean…you can't move. Where am I gonna put this thing so you can see me?"
"Just…just set the bowl on my chest, okay?" Sam answered. "That way I can see you adding the ingredients and in what way." She did as he asked, setting in right in the middle of his pecs, and tilting the bowl a bit so he could see. She shook her head. This was such a weird day. Under Sam's instructions, she carefully measured out star anise and angelica root, finishing up with a leather cord that she cut in half.
"I can get some peppercorn from the kitchen? Maybe smash it up? That should take care of the 'heat' element," she suggested.
"Yeah, yeah, you can try that," Sam agreed. Peppercorn wasn't going be that bad if the spell went wrong, he thought. It was as good a solution as any. In a moment, she was back with a couple peppercorns- and a mallet. She put the peppercorns in the bowl on his chest and raised the mallet as high as she could.
"WHOA, HOLD ON!" Sam shouted. Natalie stopped, surprised. She looked down into his face, unsure why he made her stop. "Please take the bowl OFF my chest before you smash a mallet into it," he said, his voice betraying his touch of impatience. Her eyes went wide.
"Oh, oh yeah, of course," she said apologetically. She pulled the bowl off of Sam and onto the pavement. Sam heaved a sigh of relief as he heard her pounding the peppercorns to smithereens. But instead of putting the bowl back on him once she was done, Natalie moved to the front seat. "All I have to do is drop a match into it and say the Latin phrase," she explained. "Didn't think you'd want fire on top of you, either."
"Yeah, probably a good idea," Dean chimed in. He hadn't seen a bit of it except Natalie rushing back and forth from the motel room, but he trusted his brother and his daughter. "There's nothing like…combustible in that thing, right?"
"Dad," Natalie said, rolling her eyes like a know-it-all teenager. "No, there's nothing that's gonna blow up," she reassured him. She leaned back over the seat. "What's Latin for 'completely unfreeze'?" she asked Sam. He gave her a bitch face in return.
"We JUST studied Latin phraseology last week," he scolded. "You're telling me you don't remember?"
"Yeah, well, that was last week! So what is it?"
"I have told you time after time you need to pay more attention to your Latin, Natalie."
"GEEZ, I will, okay?"
"Watch your tone."
"Sorry, Uncle Sam."
"That's better. The phrase would be 'Omnino Regelo'. Drop the match in first, then say it. And for the record, you're doing extra Latin this week."
With a steady hand and a deep breath, not to mention a roll of her eyes, Natalie obeyed. In an instant, a gentle cloud of dark red smoke billowed out of the bowl and filled the cab of the car. Natalie coughed and waved the smoke out of her line of vision, just in time to see Dean turn his head to her.
"It worked!" she cheered. "We did it!" If she wouldn't have gone knee first into a still-burning scrying bowl, she would have flung herself at Dean. She looked behind her. Sam was slowly sitting up on his own, stretching his arms in front of him.
"Oh, OW," he complained, reaching for the door handle and getting out as quickly as he could. Dean fiddled with the seat belt for a moment before extracting himself as well. They both started stretching and flexing their stiff, sore muscles, grumbling as they did so. As Natalie doused the embers of the ingredients, her eyes kept flicking up to make sure that both Sam and Dean were truly okay. As soon as she could, she hopped out of the car and ran back around to their side.
"Are you guys okay?" she asked, wanting verbal confirmation.
Dean nodded, but looked down on her with a wry smile. "Yeah, I'm good. Not the way I imagined teaching you to drive, but outside of that, I'm good."
Natalie spun around on herself once, too excited to keep it at bay any longer. "I DROVE!" she shrieked in excitement. "I drove like a BOSS! That was freakin' awesome!" All at once she stopped spinning and looked at Dean. "Hey," she asked seriously. "Can you go to the bar tonight? I wanna drive again tomorrow!"
She didn't think she'd ever gotten such a big double bitch face before.
