Author's Note: Hello, Dear Readers. I hope you are all doing well. I've been busy with work and life in general. I hope you enjoy this chapter. As usual, the characters seem to have a mind of their own. They wanted to go in a totally different direction than I had intended. Anyway, as always, please post a review or send me a PM to let me know what you think.
CHAPTER 5
John shifted the bags of groceries into his other hand so he would open the heavy door from the garage into the corridor leading to the main entrance of the bunker. This food run had made him remember how much he hated grocery shopping, especially when they were completely out of everything. Despite the load he carried, his truck was still full of plastic grocery bags.
He sighed as he reached the top of the stairs leading down into the war room. He was a little surprised to see his sons sitting at the map table. It wasn't often that they spent time there unless they were discussing a hunt. Usually, they could be found in the library with Dean browsing the Internet and Sam reading or doing research on something related to the supernatural.
He groaned to himself and shook his head when he spotted Natalie also sitting at the table. Her back was to the room. But, from his elevated position, he could tell that she was slumped in her seat and had her arms crossed over her chest. He could only imagine that she was sitting there because she'd had a run in with one of his sons -- most likely Dean. He had a feeling Sam would have handled her quite differently than his father or older brother.
John took a deep breath as though girding himself for battle and started down the stairs. When he reached the map table, he dropped the bags on its surface.
Dean and Sam had noticed their father's presence as soon as he'd stepped onto the stairs, although neither of them had said a word. Natalie, on the other hand, jerked in surprise at the sound of the bags hitting the table's surface. She quickly spun her chair around, only to be met by knowing smirks on the faces of the two elder Winchesters and Sam's concerned expression.
"I see you're out and about," John said, trying to keep his tone neutral. He was curious about what had happened while he was gone. But, he'd also had time to think about their situation, and he'd realized Sam had had a point. It would serve him better in the long run to approach Natalie calmly and sensibly rather than to rush headlong into things. At this point, she had no reason to trust him, and he couldn't blame her for not wanting to talk to him.
He spared a glance at his youngest son. Their eyes met, and John silently assured Sam that he was going to try to be patient with the young woman. Sam nodded his understanding, John turned his gaze to his oldest son.
"What happened?" he asked mildly, tilting his head in Natalie's direction.
"She decided to try to make a run for it," Dean said mildly. "I had to haul her ass out of the south corridor." He paused to look at the young woman in question and smirked at the glare she was sending his way. If looks could kill, he thought, he'd be a dead man. "Her stuff's still down there."
"Hmm," John hummed noncommittally. "Dean, come help me finish bringing everything in. Sam, why don't you take this stuff to the kitchen and get it put away. Start dinner if you want to," John had couched his directions as suggestions, but Dean and Sam both understood them to be orders. He paused and eyed Natalie for a moment, watching as she tried and failed to not squirm in her seat. "You can help Sam."
"And if I don't want to?"
"Do it anyway. Around here, everyone pitches in to keep things running." He paused, waiting to see if her mutinous expression would change. When she just continued to meet his gaze, he bit back a sigh. "How about this -- you don't help with putting the groceries away and fixing the meal, you don't eat."
"Fine," she responded as she flopped back against the back of her chair and crossed her arms over her chest. John held her gaze for a moment before turning back to the others.
He nearly laughed at the identical looks of concern and surprise on their faces. He knew from their experiences they'd expected him to jerk her to her feet and set her ass alight. He'd briefly considered it, but he'd quickly decided to give her a break -- for now. He wasn't going to put up with her attitude much longer. "Well, you three waiting for engraved invitations? Get moving."
He grinned when Dean shot to his feet and practically ran toward the stairs. John followed a bit more sedately, watching out of the corner of his eye as Sam rose and pulled Natalie to her feet.
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John waited until he and Dean had entered the labyrinth of corridors that led to the garage before directing his son to tell him what had happened with Natalie.
Dean shrugged as he kept pace with his father's long strides. "I don't know what set it off, but I got a gut feeling to go check on her. I didn't see her in her room or the bathroom, so I went looking for her. I found her in the south corridor. She had her stuff with her and was checking doors, probably looking for the back exit. I requested that she come back with me, and we returned to the war room."
John nodded. He'd expected to hear something like that. "Anything else?" he asked. He got the feeling that there was more to the story than Dean had said. It wouldn't have been unlike Dean to leave out details to protect her. He'd done it all the time to protect Sam -- giving the worst of the details only when directly asked about them.
Dean sighed. He'd never been able to get anything past his father. He suspected how his father was going to deal with the teenager, and for once he agreed with his brother. He thought his father was being a bit too strict with the girl. "When I found her, she got mouthy and fought me. I had to carry her back to the war room over my shoulder. I also had to give her ass a couple of swats and threatened a full-on spanking if she didn't cool her jets."
Dean grabbed his father's arm, causing him to turn and look at him. "You don't plan to bust her ass over this do you?" he asked cautiously as he released his grip.
John studied Dean's face for a moment. He would have expected that kind of reaction from Sam and was a little surprised to get it from Dean. "No," he said with a sigh. "But I am going to give her a stern warning and a promise that, if she ever tries to run like that again, her ass is mine."
John turned on his heel and resumed walking back down the corridor. "You gonna help me carry the rest of the groceries in, or are you just gonna stand there trying to catch flies with your mouth?"
Dean shook himself back to attention. He hadn't realized that he'd been standing there in gape-mouthed surprise at his father's words. Shaking his head, he hurried to catch up to the older man.
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Sam reached out and grabbed Natalie by the wrist and pulled her to her feet. "Let's go get your stuff and put it back in your room, then we'll get started on the groceries."
"And if I don't want to?" Natalie asked. She tried to pull her wrist out of Sam's grip. While his grip wasn't painful, it was firm, and he only tightened it slightly in response.
"Then, I guess we get started on the groceries, and you'll have to do without your things until you can talk one of us into taking you to get them. Either way, Natalie, I'm not letting you out of my sight."
She glared at him in response and tugged at his grip again.
Sam sighed heavily and ran his free hand over his face in frustration. "Look, Talie," he said, intentionally using the shortened form of her name he had started using that night he'd been tasked with babysitting her ten years before, "I'm not your enemy. Rather, I'd like to be not only your biggest ally against my father, but also your friend. And as your ally and your friend, I'm telling you that you're better off right now doing what you're told rather than fighting him. All fighting him is going to accomplish is you getting a sore ass."
"Don't call me that!" She was a little surprised when Sam let her go this time when she tugged against his grip.
"Why not?" he questioned, "you're acting like you did that night." He gave her a moment to think about what he'd said before he demanded, "which is it going to be? Are we going after your stuff or starting on the groceries and supper?"
Natalie studied Sam for a moment. What she really wanted to do was to grab her stuff and get the hell out of there. But she had no doubt that this giant of a man standing in front of her with his arms crossed over his chest and an impatient look on his face would stop her the minute she headed in the direction of the door. Not to mention, even if she managed to get by him, she'd still have to deal with Dean and John. No, she decided, it was better to pretend to cooperate now and bide her time until a better opportunity presented itself. "Let's go get my stuff," she said with a resigned sigh.
Sam eyed her skeptically, not quite sure he could trust her sudden capitulation. "Okay, come on," he said as he dropped a companionable hand on her shoulder and gave her a gentle push to start her on her way.
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"So, where were you going to school," Sam asked as he looked up from the marinade he was putting together for the chicken breasts he was planning for supper. The Winchesters usually took turns cooking when they were all in the bunker, and it happened to be his turn. While Dean and their father ran toward single skillet or other quick meals, Sam tended to fix more healthier options.
Natalie had been chopping vegetables for a salad and paused at Sam's question. "University of Northern Colorado," she responded, "but, I … ah … dropped out." She didn't really want to say anything more about it, so she turned her attention back to her task.
Sam understood her reluctance to talk, but he also knew she needed to talk about what was going on. And, he figured he had a better chance of getting information out of her than his dad did with his military, take no prisoners style.
"You were what, a freshman?" he asked curiously.
"Yeah," she answered quietly.
"I was in my last semester of undergrad and had applied to law school," Sam told her.
"I didn't know you had gone to college," Natalie commented. "What happened?"
"My girlfriend was killed by a demon. The same one who had killed my and Dean's mother. Dean was four, and I was still a baby when it happened. " Sam paused and took a deep breath to calm himself down. Showing the anger and frustration that always arose over what had happened wouldn't help either of them.
Movement in the doorway caught his attention, and he glanced up to see John standing there. His father shook his head slightly, signaling Sam to not reveal his presence and to keep Natalie talking. Sam didn't acknowledge his presence, but turned his attention back to the conversation at hand.
"I'm sorry for your loss," she said quietly. "How long ago?"
"Three years, give or take," Sam replied as he poured the marinade over the chicken and covered the dish to let the meat sit for a few minutes before he put it in the oven to bake. He looked back up to see Natalie studying him.
"Have you ever thought about going back?" She asked as she put down the knife she'd been using to cut up tomatoes and studied his face. She had the thought in the back of her mind that he was playing her to get her to talk, but the pain in his voice sounded so real. She didn't think he could fake that. Besides, she found herself genuinely interested in his answer. She couldn't help but notice the similarities between their stories and didn't know yet what she wanted to do.
Sam moved to lean against the counter beside where she was working. He knew she still had no idea that his father was still in the doorway, listening to their conversation. It occurred to Sam at that moment that he was about to tell Natalie more than he had ever shared with his father or his brother on the subject. "Yes, I have thought about going back and finishing my degree, going on to law school."
"Why didn't you?" She asked, studying him.
Sam shrugged. "It didn't seem right to be there without Jessica. I know she would have wanted me to go on with my life, and that would have included getting my law license. But, I just couldn't do it. Mainly because I'm not the same person I was when I was attending Stanford. Revenge changes you." He glanced up and met John's eyes for a moment before stepping forward to cup Natalie's chin in his large hand and tilting her face up so he could look down into her eyes. "It makes you into someone else – someone you probably won't like. And, there's no way to go back to being the person you were or living the life you had before." He released her chin and took a step back. "Do me a favor and think about what I've said, okay." He patted her on the shoulder and moved around her. "Why don't you finish up those veggies and head back to your room. I need to go take care of something, then I'll be back to put the chicken in the oven."
Natalie hesitated a moment before she picked up the knife and resumed cutting up the tomato she'd left on the cutting board. Sam had given her something to think about, and she wasn't sure she was going to like where the thoughts were going to lead her.
Sam watched her for a moment before turning to leave the room. He needed a moment to himself to gather his thoughts and get his emotions back under control. As he passed through the door, he glanced at his father and gave a slight shake of his head to indicate that he didn't want to talk at the moment.
John watched as his son walked away, heading down the hallway that led to the bedrooms. While he and Dean hid their emotions, Sam had a tendency to let his show. John knew his youngest son well enough to know that Sam was trying to get his back under control.
Although they had never really talked about it, John knew that Jessica's death had had a huge impact on Sam. How could it not, especially since Sam's mother had died the same way? He had just never heard his son put that into words before, and he wasn't sure how he was supposed to feel about it or handle it. Sighing heavily, John glanced back at the young woman standing at the kitchen work counter before turning on his heel and heading in the direction of the library. He still needed to have a serious discussion with Natalie, but he had some thinking of his own to do first.
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A few hours later John knocked on Natalie's partially open door. She had fled to her room after supper when he had told her that since she and Sam had fixed the meal, he and Dean would take care of cleaning up. He couldn't say that he'd blamed her, as the short time she'd spent in the bunker hadn't exactly been welcoming. He just hoped they'd be able to make it through the upcoming conversation without him having to turn her back over his knee. He didn't want to do it, but he would if she forced his hand.
The door opened further as John rapped on it. "May I come in?" He watched as Natalie looked up from the book she was reading. He couldn't see the title, and he briefly wondered what it was.
"I guess," she responded as she closed the book and laid it on the bed. She slid down to sit on the foot of the bed as he pushed the door the rest of the way open and entered the room. She was a little surprised when he didn't close the door before pulling out her desk chair and taking a seat across from her.
Natalie resisted the urge to squirm in her seat as John studied her for a moment before saying, "you and I have some unfinished business we need to deal with." She started to protest, but he held up a hand to stop her. "All we're going to do right now is talk. I want to hear what you have to say, and I don't plan to do anything more than that unless you show me disrespect or fight me. I won't tolerate either one. Do you understand what I'm saying to you?"
"Yeah."
John raised his eyebrow in question.
Natalie sighed and crossed her arms over her chest. She knew what he was wanting. "Yes, sir," she replied with just a hint of resentment in her voice.
He nodded in acknowledgement as he sat back in his seat and stretched his legs out in front of him. He rubbed one hand over his face for a moment while he tried to focus his thoughts. "So, let's just get down to the meat of the matter. Why did I find you taking on that rugaru?"
"Because it needed to be killed," Natalie stated.
John's expression hardened, and he gave her a look that had her squirming in her seat for several seconds. "That is not what I asked, and you know it. Do I need to give you a reminder of what happens when you sass me?" His voice was hard and left no doubt as to his meaning.
"No, sir," Natalie responded. She definitely did not want another of his "reminders". He was right, though. She had known what he was asking. She just hadn't been able to resist the flippant response.
"Let's try it this way. Why did you drop out of school to start hunting?" He hoped the narrowed question would get them where he wanted to go without any more trouble.
Natalie sighed. She really didn't want to talk about this, but she knew the man sitting in front of her wasn't going to give her a choice. He'd just see her refusal as defiance and spank her again. She knew his type since her dad had been like that to some extent.
"Natalie…," his voice held a note of warning that she had delayed answering for too long.
"Ugh," she groaned and flopped back on the bed. She laid there for a moment before sitting back up and swiping at the tear that had leaked from her eye and was trailing down her cheek. "My mom died from something supernatural. My dad would never tell me what it was. But, as I grew older, I connected his obsession with fighting monsters and my mom's death. That's all I knew – something kills someone you love, you seek revenge. So, when Bobby told me Dad had been killed, that's all I could think about." She paused to wipe more tears away. "I left because I needed to avenge my dad's death. Bobby wouldn't tell me what killed my dad, so I went after whatever I could find."
"And how were you finding the monsters?" John sat forward to rest his elbows on his knees.
"I looked for anything strange on the Internet. That's how Dad had done it."
John gave a snort of laughter at the irony of that. It seemed like weird stories on the Internet and in the newspaper were irresistible to hunters. "So, how many hunts had you been on before I came across you yesterday?"
Natalie took a second to marvel at the fact that it had only been a day since John had strode into her hunt. "That was my second one," she said a little sheepishly. "My first one was a ghost. I salted and burned the remains of a woman who was haunting a house in Big Timber, Montana. I thought it was pretty easy. I stuck around there for a few weeks until I found the story about what was happening in Minnesota."
"What exactly did you do when you decided to investigate that story?" Once again, John sat back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest. Now, he thought, they were getting to the meat of the matter.
Natalie shrugged. "I asked some questions, got some answers, and tracked it down to that clearing. You arrived about fifteen minutes after I got there."
"Did you even try to figure what kind of creature you were facing or how to kill it? It sure seemed to me that you had no idea what you were doing out there."
Natalie shrugged. "Why would I do that? All supernatural creatures are the same. They can be killed by a bullet to the heart or by separating their heads from their shoulders. What else is there to know?"
"What else is there to know?!?" John demanded coming to his feet. He paced the room for several moments before turning to stare at the young woman who was still sitting on the bed. She shrank back from the anger on his face. "I ought to bust your ass again just for saying that," he said in a hard voice as he pointed a finger in her face. He ran his hands over his face and plopped back down in his chair. "Is that what your dad did? Go in totally unprepared and hope for the best?"
"I don't know what my dad did. After I turned thirteen and started expressing interest in what he was doing, he kept me away from anything even remotely related to hunting. He even went so far as to send me off to boarding school. I only saw him on school holidays and for a couple of months during the summer. He didn't hunt when I was with him."
John met her gaze and studied her for a moment. While he'd made sure to keep his sons close, sending them to stay with Pastor Jim or to Bobby only when he felt he didn't have any other choice, he knew other hunters who stashed their kids with relatives or at boarding school to keep them away from the supernatural.
"So, you wanted revenge against the creature that killed him, but you didn't make any attempt to learn anything about hunting before you set out. Am I understanding that correctly?"
Natalie shrugged. "What of it?"
John growled and quickly rose to his feet. He took two steps to the bed and grabbed Natalie's arm to haul her to her feet. He turned her sideways and bent her under his arm in one quick movement before landing a dozen hard swats to her backside. He dropped her back down on the bed. "Drop the attitude, or that is just a taste of what you'll receive. Got it?"
Natalie glared at him and crossed her arms over her chest. She wanted to shift around to find a comfortable position on her burning backside, but she wasn't going to give John the satisfaction.
"Answer me, or you can go back over my knee right now," John directed as he took a step in her direction.
"Yes, sir," she responded in a voice full of resentment.
John gave her a hard look before resuming his seat. "Take it from me, Natalie. Revenge is a bad reason to do anything, must less get into hunting. And going into it without training or knowledge about what you're going after? That's suicidal." He paused to watch her reaction. "Well, young lady, I can tell you that ends now. You're staying here until you're no longer a threat to yourself or others. If you want to hunt, my sons and I will train you. If you don't want to hunt, that's your choice, too. But, I'm not letting you leave here while you're still willing to get yourself killed trying to avenge your father's death."
"You can't do that!" Natalie came to her feet. "You don't have any right or authority to keep me here against my will."
"Watch me," John responded as he rose to stand over her, using his height to intimidate her.
