Part 3 coming at you! Thank you for reading and reviewing, special thanks to jenmm31 for beta-ing! In this story, Natalie is 17. Part 3 of a 3 part story.
Stomping into the kitchen, Natalie walked uncomfortably close to where Reginald and Dean were seated at the table, comparing notes. "I need the file with Brooklyn's details in it," she interrupted, not giving a damn that they were deep in discussion.
Dean looked at her as if she had lobsters crawling out of her ears. "Excuse me?" he said hotly. He knew she was having a rough morning, but he wasn't expecting this level of disrespect from his daughter. Reginald's eyes had also darted to Natalie's, looking a bit confused by her rudeness, but she didn't give two shits about that.
"I SAID, I need the file with Brooklyn's stats. Did I stutter?" Natalie shot back, as if she couldn't hear the warning in her father's voice. She leaned down, swiping the piles of papers on the table to the side, looking for the file. This caused both men to jump back a bit, as she haphazardly scattered the notes. She snatched up the file, holding it up to Dean's face, and looked at him accusingly.
"There. That wasn't so hard, now was it? Happy to be doing your job for you," she snipped at him, then turned on her heel and walked away. She had just made it through the kitchen door and into the hallway when she felt a huge hand wrap around her upper arm. Dean spun her around to face him. His face was almost purple with anger, but she didn't care. He backed her up against the wall and got right in her face, towering over her.
"What the FUCK do you think you're doing, talking to me like that, and especially in front of someone else?" Dean hissed at her, the rage pouring out of him. "You give me one good reason why I shouldn't tear your limb from limb for this attitude that you're sportin'."
"Because then you'd actually have to do work instead of making me do everything," she replied back arrogantly without missing a beat. Dean's jaw dropped. Natalie never spoke to him this way. She damn well knew better. His fury mounted, but she wasn't done. "And you'd probably fuck it up anyways, so…yeah." She shrugged and gave him a smarmy smile.
"Little girl," he fumed. "I don't know what the HELL is going through that brain of yours to make it think that speaking like this to me is gonna fly, but rest assured it stops right the fuck now, otherwise you and I are gonna have a serious problem. You understand me?"
Natalie leaned forward, squinting her eyes at Dean. She gave a wry smile. "Fine, El Capitan," she said in a mocking tone. "Can I get on with figuring out what the hell this is?"
Dean was so shocked at her attitude and lack of response to his threat that he simply froze, and she was able to pull her arm out of his grasp and start walking back down the hallway. He managed to gather himself together enough to call after her.
"You are treading on thin ice, little girl," he growled in that incredibly dangerous tone of his that normally stopped her in her tracks.
She didn't even turn around. She simply raised one hand and gave a mock salute. "Thin ice. Got it." She turned the corner and left him fuming in the hallway.
Dean stood there for a second, his brain trying to play catch up with what just happened. Finally coming to the conclusion that he could make absolutely no sense of any of that, and promising himself he'd deal with her later, he turned and walked back to the kitchen, furiously aware that the stuck-up British jackass probably heard all of it.
Reginald was sitting on the edge of the table with one leg up, going through all the papers Natalie had scattered. He seemed calm, cool, and collected. Dean gritted his teeth. He wasn't sure if it was the man's casual demeanor in the wake of what just happened or if it was just the fact that the guy who'd gotten the jump on him last night was sitting at his kitchen table, but he was annoyed at everything.
"Sorry about that," Dean said tightly. Might as well get it out in the open and own it. He didn't want to look any weaker in front of this dude. To his surprise, Reginald gave him a sincere smile.
"I have a teenage son. I'm well versed in the irascibility of the age," he said lightly, trying to set Dean at ease. "Don't think another thing of it."
"Right," Dean said, not wanting to admit he didn't know what 'irascibility' meant. "So. Anything in these notes lining up with any of the other cases you were talking about?"
"Several things," Reginald said, focusing on Dean again. "This particular case in almost step by step in line with one about a week ago in Omaha, Nebraska." Only because Dean felt slightly in debt to Reginald for not commenting on Natalie's horrendous attitude, did he rein in his derogatory chuckle at the British man's pronunciation of 'Omaha'. "There was another girl, aged sixteen, who killed three girls in her school's locker room, along with herself. Or the authorities think it was a self-inflicted death; I'm not convinced. Something is causing these girls to kill anyone in their paths and then themselves."
"Girls?"
"Yes, all the murders seem to be perpetrated by teenage girls. Age ranges from 14-19."
"All teenage girls?"
"Every case so far."
"Hang on," Dean said suddenly. "What else do we know about them? Any side effects from whatever this is?" He had a horrible, sinking feeling in his gut.
"Well, we don't really know all side effects, do we? No one has actually seen the girls before the bodies are all discovered. However, given the crime scenes, it would appear they all suffered from inexplicable and uncontrollable rage and anger. Most of the people interviewed after the fact said that it was highly unusual for the murderer to be angry, let alone the level of fury they're encountering in the aftermath."
"Fuck," Dean hissed and took off running. Reginald looked completely shocked, then stood up and immediately followed the hunter down the hallway. He barely knew the man, but already trusted his instincts enough to know that whatever was on his mind wasn't good.
Dean sprinted into the alchemy room, praying that he was wrong. He skidded to a stop in the middle of the room, causing all three of them to turn around and look at his sudden entrance with surprise.
"Come to offer more words of wisdom?" Natalie said sarcastically. "Or just fuck shit up with your usual dumbassery?"
Sam nearly fell off his stool. "Natalie!" he said, shocked that she was suddenly being so nasty, especially to Dean. "What the hell?"
"Exactly," Dean growled back. "Nat, when did you start feeling so pissed off?"
"Fuck you, I'm not pissed off," Natalie muttered, turning her back to her father and making her way towards the work area. Dean ground his teeth together, but pulled Reginald into the room and slammed the door shut. That made her whip back around, fast.
"What the fuck do you think you're doing, old man?" she shrieked at him. Taron's eyes went wide.
"Whoa," he said, holding up his hands and backing up from her. If he ever said anything like that to HIS father, he'd be led straight to the guillotine. At a glance from his dad, however, he did the one thing he'd not been able to do thus far- read the room and keep his trap shut.
Dean got a grip on his misplaced anger, held out his hands, and walked slowly towards his daughter. "Natalie, I don't know if you can still hear me in there, but I think whatever's causing these girls to go postal is affecting you, kid." He stepped in closer, his senses on high alert but desperately needing to know that his baby girl was still in there, somewhere. Praying that he was wrong, but knowing in his gut that he wasn't.
She blinked at him twice, then threw back her head and laughed like a James Bond villain. "Are you fucking serious?" she snarled. "Don't you think I'd KNOW if something was wrong with me, or are you seriously that stupid?"
At hearing that old trigger word, a red veil of anger slipped over Dean, and before he could stop himself, he lunged forward and reached around, smacking the back of her head like Bobby used to do when he'd smarted off as a kid. "OW!" she shrieked. The angry look in her eyes suddenly cleared for a second. "Dad?" she said, in her own voice. She looked frightened.
Upon hearing his daughter return to him, Dean swallowed hard, taking her by the shoulders. "Nat, tell me what you're feeling, now," he said forcefully. He didn't know how long she was going to be in control. She gulped hard, breathing heavily.
"It's…I don't really feel anything…"
"Don't downplay anything, tell me what you're feeling."
"I…my neck kinda hurts but…"
"Where?" he persisted. She raised a finger to the back of her head.
"Back here, but it hurts…" she began pointing to the side of her neck, but suddenly, her eyes fogged over again. A horrifically evil grin washed over her face. With one swift move, she shoved Dean away from her, imbibed with supernatural strength, and he went flying, crashing into one of the tables, papers scattering everywhere. With a shout, Sam ran towards Dean, who laid unconscious on the floor. Sam looked up in horror at his niece. Natalie was gone- replaced by some evil version of herself. She growled, stepping firmly towards the brothers, but roared with rage as her arms were suddenly pinned beside her. She wildly twisted and thrashed, but couldn't seem to break out of Reginald's bear hug. He locked his arms and held on with everything he had.
"TARON!" the older man shouted as she wildly fought against his hold. The boy instantly sprung towards them to help. "Slap her!" Reginald roared.
"I ain't doing that!" Taron shouted back, trying to get in close enough to help contain her, but she was still flailing around so much that he couldn't.
"It worked to knock her back to her senses before, you've got to do it again!"
"I ain't hitting a lady!" he shouted.
"You were plenty happy to fight her last night!"
"That was fighting, this is different!"
"She's going to kill us all if you don't do it!"
"All she needs is something to get her system riled up and she comes back to herself! I don't gotta hit her! Wait…" A memory from last night sprung to mind. Taron planted himself directly in front of her, grabbed her face with both hands to force her to look at him…and winked saucily, flashing his charming smile that had made her stop for a half-second last night.
He watched as those mesmerizing green eyes dilated with unbridled rage for a split second, then the fog lifted again. They widened for a moment as reason returned to her face. "Taron!" she gasped. "It's…I can feel it…" she choked out, her knees nearly buckling. Luckily, Reginald still had a strong grip on her so she didn't fall to the floor.
"What do you need from me?" Taron asked firmly, dropping his hands but not moving away. He heard his dad hiss at the very close and unarmed proximity he was to her, but he didn't care. He had to help her.
"Knife," she gasped out. "Hurry."
"Don't you even think about-!" Before Reginald could finish his sentence, Taron drew a pocketknife and flicked it open. She turned to look at Reginald over her shoulder.
"Let me go, now, please," she begged. "I don't want to hurt you and I don't know how much longer I can control it," she pleaded.
"Let her go, I'm here too," Sam said, running up to them, looking firm. Natalie looked gratefully at him before twisting in pain again, letting out a loud scream.
"IT'S MOVING…" she cried. "PLEASE!"
"Dad, LET HER GO!" Taron roared. Reginald dropped her arms and backed away. She slammed into the floor on her knees. It had to hurt, but she was gripping the back of her neck in agony, so she didn't even feel it. Taron dropped in front of her, grabbed her hand, and pressed the hilt of the knife into it. "Don't make me regret this, love," he said quietly, then scooted backwards.
Natalie barely heard him. All that registered was that there was a knife in her hand and she had to act before this thing took over again- before it latched on. Frantically reaching up to her neck, she located the itchy bump. Without a moment's hesitation, she sliced a two inch cut across it. She slid the knife across the floor, away from her- just in case. Gritting her teeth, she jammed her forefinger and thumb into the cut, yelling in pain as she did so. Sam rushed forward. "Stay back!" she begged, then bit down on her lip and shoved her fingers in harder, screaming in pain.
Sam was torn- she was obviously knew what she was doing but it was killing him to see her in pain like this, literally digging into her own flesh. For once, he was grateful that Dean was unconscious- he would have lost his mind seeing her like this. Sam stood at the ready but made no attempts to get closer to her, staying at least five feet back and making sure Reginald and Taron did too.
Sweat and tears ran down Natalie's face as she twisted her fingers, searching. Finally she felt it- the thing that she'd felt crawling inside her. With the last ounce of strength she had left, she pinched it and began to pull.
Sam, Reginald, and Taron watched in horror as Natalie pulled a long, white, wormlike creature out of the wound on her neck. As soon as she could, she wrapped her other hand around it and pulled, screaming to the heavens. As the creature was extracted from her neck, a burst of orange sludge came with it, spraying everything within three feet of her. Exhausted, her hand dropped to the floor and the creature wiggled free. It shot towards the door.
With the speed of a man who'd been hunting monsters since birth, Sam snatched the switchblade and rammed it into the worm. It let out an unearthly shriek, then went completely limp. Sam stabbed it again three times before he was satisfied it was dead.
Meanwhile, Taron rushed forward, catching Natalie before her head hit the stone floor as she collapsed in exhaustion. "Hey, hey," he said a little hysterically, shaking her a bit. "You with me, love?"
Natalie's eyes fluttered open and she tried to focus on him. "Is it gone?" she managed to whisper, trying to stay awake. Taron nodded.
"You got it. It's gone. You got it out," he said, his voice full of wonder. "That was incredible. I could'na done it. You're a fucking goddess, love."
She was too tired to hide her smile, and simply let it spread across her face. "You don't know the half of it," she said with a grin as the world receded around her, mercifully plunging her in darkness.
*SPN SPN SPN*
"You sure she's okay?" Dean asked for the millionth time. He sat next to his sleeping daughter in the infirmary, watching her like a hawk.
"Yes, she's fine," Sam said patiently, knowing that Dean wouldn't be fully satisfied with that answer until he saw Natalie's eyes for himself. "All of her vitals are perfectly normal, the wound on her neck is clean and stitched, she's just resting. Her brain's been through a hell of a lot in the past twelve hours- not EVEN twelve hours. Rest is the best thing for her. Just give her time."
Dean just nodded, carefully brushing the hair back from her face. If he kept thinking about how much she looked like her baby self when she was asleep, he was gonna cry. Screw that. He forced himself to stand up and walk back to where Sam was shuffling through all the papers. He gulped down whiskey in his glass before he spoke.
"Damn good thing Reg had been tracking those patterns," he said gruffly, looking at the notes. "I was just putting her attitude up to some teenager bullshit."
Sam nodded, his own throat thick. "I was thinking the same thing. If they hadn't been here, who knows what could have happened."
"So this was the global threat they were talking about? Why they were here in the first place?"
"Not just this, but apparently the British Men of Letters has been noticing a pattern. What we would consider 'normal' monsters have been…I don't know how to really describe it but… evolving."
"Evolving? As in getting more dangerous?"
"Like they're still identifiable as what they are, but they're getting stronger- more resistant to certain defenses. And yes- doing more damage along the way."
Just then, there was a small tapping sound behind them. Sam and Dean turned to see Reginald in the open doorway, his knuckles resting on the wall where he'd knocked. Taron was behind him, trying to peek around but not be obvious about it.
"Sorry to interrupt," Reginald said in a polite, soft tone. "But Taron wouldn't leave me alone until we checked on you all." He smiled apologetically. "I apologize for the intrusion during this delicate time."
"Don't worry about it," Dean said, waving them in. "Nat's still asleep, so just keep it down, but…she's gonna be fine."
"Excellent to hear," Reginald said, stepping into the room. The moment he was past the threshold, Taron quickly side stepped him, moving at a swift pace to Natalie's bedside.
"Hey," Dean said sharply, causing the kid to jump a bit. "Leave her alone- she's resting," he said sternly.
"No offense meant, sir," Taron said quickly, holding up his hands. He stole a look at the sleeping girl as if he couldn't help it. "Just needed to see for meself if she was comfortable. What she did was fockin' incredible," he said in an awed whisper.
"Taron," Reginald said wearily, closing his eyes at his son's linguistics yet again. Taron looked insulted.
"What?" he said defensively. "She's unconscious, isn't she? She can't hear me swear." Reginald sighed deeply, looking at the Winchesters.
"I've never known how to tame his mouth," he admitted grimly.
"I understand completely," Sam said with a wry grin at Natalie, before turning back to the gentleman. "Thank you again for the notes and for working with us."
"And for saving our asses back there," Dean added. Might as well give credit where credit was due.
"Call it even for us breaking into your home and knocking you all out," Reginald said in a jovial tone. "Having a specimen to study will definitely help us in identifying whatever this is, and hopefully helping us to figure out a way to keep it from multiplying again. If I didn't know better, I'd say it was a-"
"Khan worm," Dean said at the same time Reginald did. Reginald swung to Dean in surprise.
"How do you know what khan worms are?" he asked point-blank.
"Because I'm the one who discovered 'em," Dean answered matter of factly. "Named 'em myself and everything. If this thing is a variant of those bastards, this'll be the third incarnation of 'em that we've seen. And they all seem to be mutating, getting stronger. So there may be something to your 'evolving monster' theory. Nothing good can come from that."
Reginald's eyes nearly popped out of his head at Dean's words. "You…you're the one who discovered them? I wasn't even aware that there had been a problem in America. I was under the impression that these particular monsters were only theoretical." he said, his voice dropping low. "It seems that our intelligence isn't quite as…intelligent as we've been led to believe."
"I TOLD you," Taron mumbled, just loud enough to be heard, his eyes still never leaving Natalie's sleeping figure. "They're keeping stuff from us, Dad. I told you they was." Reginald's face was hard as he processed this new information.
"Indeed," he said simply, but kindly, to his son. He turned back to the brothers. "Would you permit us to stay for a little while longer? I would covet the chance to discuss what you know about these and see if there are any further connections and clues we can draw from this."
"No problem," Sam said, a million thoughts running through his mind about what this all meant.
*SPN SPN SPN*
The next day, Natalie sat patiently as Sam checked her again for a concussion, for any neck issues, and basically every paranoid thing Dean came up with. She patiently sat through all of it as she felt extremely guilty for the things that damned worm made her say yesterday. "I'm so, so sorry," she apologized again for the hundredth time.
"Kid, you had a freaking alien tapeworm trying to wrap itself around the stem of your brain," Dean said with a chuckle. "I'll let you off the hook. But only this time."
Natalie giggled a bit at that, feeling slightly better. She looked up at Sam. "I really owe you an apology too-" she began.
Sam placed his warm hand on her cheek. "Bug, let it go," he ordered her gently. "You and I are good. Turn your head. I want another look at that cut on your neck."
"How did you know it was in there?" Dean asked.
"Well, Brooklyn had what I thought was a burst zit on her neck. It must have been the worm's exit point. The swab went in so deep. And…okay this is really gross, but once you kinda snapped me back to reality, I could…I could feel it moving. I couldn't think of how to get it out except to go in after it. And since I must have picked it up when I came in contact with that orange sludge back in the lab, I wasn't sure if I was gonna put you all at risk too, so it had to be me to get it out."
"You are insane and amazing," Sam said with a smile, making sure the cut wasn't infected. He gently put some more medicine on it and bandaged it again. He kissed her on the top of her head. "Drink some water."
She rolled her eyes when he wasn't looking, but continued to sip the bottle of water they kept refilling. Until they were sure all the worm's poison was out of her system, they were making her drink like she'd just come back from the Sahara. "So can I work on the research with you, since I'm currently Patient Zero?" she asked Dean, grinning up at him.
"How about you just rest?" Dean said. "We'll see how you're feeling tomorrow."
"C'mon! The Paynes are leaving in a couple days- I'd love to get the chance to work with them and maybe pick up some new techniques."
"Both of them? Or just one of them?" Sam said in a teasing tone, unable to help himself. He snickered when Natalie flushed a bit. Dean shot him a look.
"Uncle Sam, it's not like that."
"Sure it's not."
"It's not! Just because he's a young hunter doesn't mean I'm automatically falling for him, okay? They're both obviously very smart and I think it could be educational for me."
"Educational," Dean echoed flatly, arching one eyebrow at her excuse. She just rolled her eyes, but the blush didn't leave her cheeks.
"Dad, I just said, it's not like that. I promise."
"Yeah, well, I don't think it's a good idea for you to…fraternize with them."
"To…what? Fraternize with them?" Natalie said, stunned into disbelief at Dean's word choice. Dean looked at her piously.
"Yes. I don't want you fraternizing with them," he said loftily. "You need to rest and I don't want you to jeopardize your healing by…fraternizing," he added, doubling down on his ridiculous excuse.
"You can't be serious." Natalie pinched her lips together at Dean's attempt to be as high class as their British guests while still sticking to his insane overprotective guns.
"I am dead serious, Natalie. In fact, I forbid it."
"You forbid it?" she repeated, obviously on the verge of laughter this time.
"You heard me. Now go lie down in your room and rest. No fraternizing."
Pinching her lips together so tightly she nearly sprained her mouth, Natalie bolted into the hallway. They could hear her barely contained laughter echoing through the stone corridors.
"Dude," Sam said, shaking his head and laughing himself. "You do realize that what you just said is a surefire way to get her to mess around with that kid, right?"
"Shut up. No she won't," Dean answered back stubbornly. He looked sideways at his brother. Sam just smiled smugly.
*SPN SPN SPN*
Three days later, the Paynes were getting ready to head back to England. Dean was giving Reginald a last minute tour of the Bunker, as they'd been immersed in research regarding the Khan worm variants and hadn't gotten around to showing off what they'd inherited from the American Men of Letters. "And this is the dungeon," Dean said as he made his way down the hallway.
"Dungeon?" Reginald said, his eyebrows hitting his hairline. It hadn't been the first time he'd been surprised today, but this one was definitely unexpected.
Dean shrugged. "Just in case we need to torture someone. Do a tricky exorcism. You know how it is."
"Well. You certainly do think of everything," Reginald said with an appreciative grin. But before either could say anything else, a strange scraping sound came out of the room. Dean was instantly on alert- they had cleaned and disinfected the lab multiple times of all the orange sludge, but you never knew in the supernatural world. Everything was making them all jumpy right now. He crept towards the door, his gun drawn. Reg was right behind him. He locked eye contact with him, and, after giving a nod, Dean threw the door open.
Natalie and Taron jumped a mile apart as the door crashed open. Apparently, the sound Dean heard coming from the room was a wooden chair being pushed away. Natalie was sitting on top of the table, and Taron had clearly been pressing up against her, the two of them making out until their fathers caught them. Natalie didn't even need to look at Dean to know there was smoke coming out of his ears. So she did what any Winchester would do. Try to bullshit her way out of this.
"Hey Dad! Mr. Payne! So what brings you to the torture chamber?" she asked brightly, a huge smile on her face. Taron caught on in a moment, rubbing his nose with the back of his hand to try to hide his smile at her cheeky audacity to fly in the face of this awkward situation.
"I suppose I could ask you two the same question," Reginald said icily, his eyebrow arched at his son's antics.
"We was definitely not fraternizing, that's for sure," Taron said seriously, but with a wicked twinkle in his eye. Natalie nearly convulsed trying to keep her laughter inside as she saw Dean's face go purple as he realized she'd told Taron what he'd said.
"We just came down here to do some… research," Natalie responded brightly, the winning smile threatening to crack her cheeks in two as she tried to hold down the wild laughter.
"Research. Really," Dean commented dryly, grinding his teeth so hard his molars were in serious danger of shattering.
"Yup. Research."
"In the dungeon."
"It was torture research."
"Get upstairs. Now."
"Okie dokie!"
Natalie pitched herself off the table and landed lightly on the floor as if nothing was wrong. She trotted past Dean and Reginald in the doorway. She turned just enough to give Taron a saucy wink and a grin before proceeding down the hallway. Taron made to follow her, but a large hand thumped into his chest just as he got to the door.
"Not you," Dean growled. He resisted the urge to reach his hand up and strangle the little shit. Instead, he tapped his hand firmly onto the kid's chest once before dropping it. "You count to fifteen, slowly, THEN you go upstairs."
"Right-o, sir," Taron said with his roguish charm. Dean just growled under his breath.
"Think you can get yourselves back to your rooms?" he asked Reginald, one eyebrow raised.
"I have no doubt we'll manage," Reginald said dryly, shooting his son a threatening look while Taron stared at the ground, trying not to laugh.
"Fantastic," Dean muttered, before turning on his heel and stalking down the hallway. Just around the bend, he caught sight of Natalie, who had clearly stopped her progress to hear what went down. Upon seeing her father looking like a furious bull charging her, she gave a tiny squeak and took off like a light.
"Yeah, you BETTER run!" Dean roared after her as he gave chase.
