Messing with people, screwing up things… the family business.


Chapter 30

Dean was fuming. No, better said that he was boiling in the broth of his anger. How could his own brother do something like this? He didn't expect it from Sam. Hell, Dean wouldn't expect it from anyone, but specially not from his own blood towards another of the same blood. But that was actually the problem, right? Sam didn't consider Emma to be their blood. Well then, that was going to change yes or yes.

Knocking on Sam's door proved futile, nobody answered. But he had said something about dinner, so it was probably his turn to cook?

And maybe it was because Dean was in a very agitated state that he wasn't paying as much attention to his surroundings as he usually did, but while going again through the hallways someone attacked him from behind, jumping on his back and almost making him fall to the floor.

"Shit! You again?"

Dean grunted, annoyed to the extreme. He didn't bother asking who it was, since there was only one person in the bunker that would want to attack him, and grabbed the arms that were in a strong lock around his neck, trying to get free. To give the kitsune whelp some credit, he didn't release the grip, and instead closed his legs around the Winchester's waist.

Dean thought fast, and while still trying to get Jacob's arms loose on his throat, started a counter-attack. Walking backwards, he fully slammed against the wall. Jacob groaned in pain, receiving most of the impact, but resisted. Dean had to repeat the tactic two more times until the boy's lock weakened enough to let him breathe again. Then, in a final slam, Dean arched back just a little bit, so the hit went straight to Jacob's head instead of his back. He immediately let go of the man after that, falling on his butt and grabbing behind his head.

"You're a fool of a kid," Dean snorted, rubbing his throat and breathing haggardly. "I have, like, 20kg of muscle mass on you. Did you really expect to overpower me in this narrow hallway, where all the odds go against you? No weapons, no fighting skills, no plan B... apparently no planning at all, only relying on your strength to beat a seasoned hunter?"

"I hate you," Jacob simply sobbed, still holding his head and not wanting to look up. "I hate you. I hate you!"

"Yeah, you already said that, and I don't give a damn," Dean replied angrily, not in the mood to be understanding right now. "But I'm starting to see that you're so blinded by your revenge on me that you don't even care to protect yourself. What a shame. Tell me, if you succeed, what do you intend to do after that? Have you ever thought about it, about the rest of your life?"

Jacob didn't answer anymore and Dean didn't want to remain there either, lecturing a boy that clearly wasn't interested in learning anything from him, so he resumed his search for his brother. Effectively, Sam was in the kitchen, chopping some vegetables.

"You!" Dean yelled upon entering. "The hell you think you're doing?"

"Uh... making dinner?" Sam answered, confused. "A carrot once in a while won't kill you, Dean."

"I'm not talking about fucking greens. I mean Emma!"

The moment he said his name, Sam sighed deeply and put down the knife, obviously frustrated. Placing both hands on the counter, he let his head fall in a tired pose.

"I'm doing what I can," he grumbled. "It's not my fault if she doesn't participate."

"You're not doing fuck," Dean replied, fury dripping from his voice. "I've been away five days, five days in which you were supposed to take care of things, to take care of everyone. And what I come back to instead? That you, oh so great teacher, haven't noticed that one of the kids doesn't even know how to read. What kind of shitty attention have you been paying to her?"

This made Sam's head snap back towards his brother, bewildered.

"Wait, what? Emma doesn't know...?

"No, she doesn't. Nobody ever taught her, so it shouldn't really be a surprise."

It took Sam a few seconds to assimilate this info, and then he looked away, ashamed.

"I truly didn't know," he confessed in a low voice. "I'm sorry, Dean."

"Yeah, of course you are. And I wish I could believe you, but that's not the case, since you clearly hate her so much."

"I don't...!" Sam replied, trying to defend himself. "It's not that I hate her, not really. It's the fact that you want so badly to have a child that you're not seeing the danger that she poses to you!"

Now it was Dean's turn to be confused by the other's words.

"The what? I don't want a child. What nonsense are you spitting out?"

"Dean, you've always been like this around children." Sam inhaled deeply, closing his eyes for a second before looking back at him. "You took under your wing every one of them that we met during our cases, like... like Lucas in the lake, or Michael with the shtriga, Tyler in the one with the killing clown, Audrey and her suicidal teddy, Timmy in the boys' home... You took care of Bobby John before Crowley wiped out all the baby shifters along with the alpha, and also Cas called you when he was stuck babysitting for Nora. You even killed yourself trying to find Shawn in Meadow's House! And... don't get me started about Ben."

He finished in a low note, knowing how painful the subject was for his brother, but there were things that needed to be said in order to make him understand.

"I think you have this... deep and unconscious desire to be a father, Dean, whether you realize it or not. And perhaps Claire and Jack fill that desire to some extent, but I understand that the pull must be a lot stronger with Emma, being your actual daughter. I just want you to see that she's not a harmless little girl that you can take to the park to play. She's an amazon, a murderer by nature. It's in her blood."

"No, I'm in her blood," Dean replied sternly, finally breaking his silence. "There's no such thing as a murderer gene, amazon or not. You dislike Emma only because she was sent to kill me, but I don't see you making any fuss about Jacob, right? And despite the fact that he's out of himself, I'm still putting up with him."

"But that's not..."

"Shut up, you listen to me now," Dean pointed a warning finger to Sam's face. "When Jack was born and I wanted to kill him for being the fucking Devil's spawn, you begged me to give him a chance. I did it, and yes, I'm glad that I did. Well, I'm not going to beg you: either you give Emma that same chance now, or I'll pack my things and take her away from here until this damn anunnaki thing is sorted out."

Sam almost choked, flabbergasted.

"Dean, you can't be serious!" he shouted.

"I'm dead serious," Dean swore. "You're my brother, Sam, and there's nothing I wouldn't do for you. But you're not my only family anymore, and as much as I'd give for you, I'd give for them too. And no matter if you like it or not, Emma is included in the pack."

He then turned around, intending on walking out, but at the doorframe he stopped one last time.

"Oh, and since you're so fond of the other little killer, tomorrow you'll take him with you and Patience to Massachusetts while I focus on Emma. One for each, now isn't that fair?"

If there was a door to the kitchen, Sam was pretty sure that the slam of Dean's fury would have left him deaf.

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The mood in the car was awkward and tense, very tense. Sam couldn't be more grateful to Jack for flying them all the way to a border state road with Connecticut, not only for the huge amount of saved time but also because he didn't think that he could stand the long journey with a depressive boy curled up on himself in one corner of the backseat and a definitely spooked girl in the other. Patience had tried to be amiable, talking a bit with Sam and answering politely whenever being asked something, but the heavy silence that came from Jacob had made her suspicious of the kitsune.

"Keep going south. We're close," Patience indicated, feeling a pulse in her temples.

Contrary to Claire, she seemed to be able to sense the call from the Throne key, maybe due to her psychic gift. From the border road they had crossed to actual Massachusetts, went east for a while and then crossed the corner of Rhode Island to the south back to Massachusetts jurisdiction. The Welcome to Fall River sign didn't ring any bell for Sam (what with the countless towns he had seen in his life), but after driving through the middle of the town, something gave him a familiar feeling.

"I think I've been here before," he frowned, stopping in a traffic light.

"Really? When?" Patience asked.

"I don't know. I can't remember all the places I've been, but obviously it must have been for a case. Are you sure that you feel the key in this town?"

"Yes, absolutely. The call is not pulling any further. It's somewhere here."

"Ok, good. For some reason, the coordinates were lost several kilometres ago, so let's hope we find it soon, after getting to a motel to stay the night. You guys must be bored."

"Even I can stand three hours in a car, thanks to Jack," Patience smiled kindly. "It hasn't been that bad."

On his part, Jacob didn't bother to give his opinion. Sam frowned, worried, passing a traffic light. He will have to talk to him.

The motel was far from being the nicest place the hunter ever stayed in, but he didn't mind. After all he was used to it, but he shrugged apologetically at the poor girl that looked about to run off to buy disinfectant and spray every visible surface with it. At least their rooms were next to each other's.

"Patience, in case you need anything..." Sam offered, opening his door.

"I know, I know. Don't worry, I'll survive. Somehow," she attempted to joke.

"Ok. Go settle in, and we'll meet down in an hour for lunch."

Patience nodded and Sam entered the room, leaving the door open for Jacob behind him to do the same. The psychic took a deep breath, steeling herself for the germ trial that her own room was surely going to be, and absentmindedly she leaned down to pick up her bag, not noticing that she was stepping on one of the strips. At the first yank she tripped, and would have face-planted in the concrete floor if the kitsune boy hadn't reacted immediately and grabbed her wrist.

"Aaahhh!" Patience inhaled sharply, paralyzed in fear for what she was feeling.

"Patience?" Sam shouted, coming back out instantly upon hearing her distress. "Jacob, what are you doing? Let her go!"

"I was only trying to help," he spoke for the first time in the day, obeying. "I didn't do anything."

Sam carefully took Patience's hand and inspected her wrist. There was no injury, not even a mark from being grabbed too hard.

"You thought that I'd hurt her for no reason," Jacob said harshly, clearly wounded by the hunter's mistrust. "Guess you're no friend of mine, Sam."

And taking his own bag, Jacob forcefully passed beside Sam into the room. For a moment, the Winchester had the urge to knock his head on the wall.

"I'm sorry. I probably overreacted, but it was... his touch was..." Patience whispered in a weakened voice, not daring to continue.

"No, don't worry, it doesn't matter. Are you ok now?"

"Yes, I... I'm fine. Sorry. I'm so sorry. I-I'm going to lie down for a little."

"Yes, right. If that makes you feel better." Sam nodded, taking her duffel and carrying it to her door room. "Do you want me to bring you anything? Some coffee or herbal tea?"

"No, Sam, thank you. I just need to rest."

Sam opened Patience's door for her and let her inside, not insisting. However, after closing it, he couldn't help but wonder what the psychic girl could have seen through Jacob's touch to frighten her so much.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

After lunch, Sam pondered what to do. He needed to keep Patience near to pinpoint the exact location of the Throne key, but he didn't like the idea of leaving Jacob alone, specially since the boy was so obviously not in a good state of mind. On the other hand, having to keep watch on the two of them was going to be a big waste of time. Leaving them together was also out of question, considering how scared Missouri's granddaughter seemed to be of the kitsune whelp.

Eventually, and since there didn't seem to be any case around, Sam decided it best to stick together.

"Are you feeling better, Patience?" Sam asked her after eating.

"Yes, thank you. Sorry to be a bother."

"You're not a bother, you're rather the reason we're here. I wish that I could let you two go around on your own, but..."

"You don't have to apologize for the babysitting," Patience smiled sympathetically. "I'm not offended by other people worrying about me. It's better to have someone taking care of you than having none and then disappearing in the night without anyone looking for you."

"What?" Sam frowned, confused by her comment. "Why do you say that?"

"Oh, I thought you've seen them." Patience looked around for a moment, and then pointed to a wall where there was a 'Missing person' picture. "I was referring to the girl that disappeared from here a few days ago. Apparently nobody noticed until very recently, and aside that poster, there's nothing being done about it. Not even a searching patrol, since she's already missing for several days. I feel really sorry for the girl, and... But my comment was out of place. Sorry."

Sam paid for their meal and went to look closer at the poster. It was about a young girl with tanned skin and dark, wavy hair. She looked familiar, probably he had met her in whatever case he and Dean had worked on in Fall River, but he couldn't remember her concretely.

In the afternoon, the three of them kept strolling around the town, hoping that Patience would catch a whiff or something from the anunnaki key, but there was no such luck. Being December and with the sun setting early, they didn't have a lot of time before nightfall forced them to return to the motel.

"I'm so sorry," the girl was crestfallen. "The calling is strong, but it's already everywhere. I can't tell where it's coming from."

"You don't need to keep apologizing, Patience," Sam tried to comfort her. "You've already done awesomely getting us this close. We'll find it soon, you'll see. The three of us."

But unbeknownst to Sam, the 'three of us' was a long shot. Next morning, Sam found Jacob missing from his bed. No more than ten minutes later, he and Patience were already running to the indolent receptionist, asking questions about the boy.

"Yessir, the punk came in very early," he lazily looked at the questionable centerfold in his hands, not really paying attention to them. "Asked me about the wild animals in the zone. Told him is not the season for fox hunting, and he seemed pretty pissed off by that."

"And?" Sam insisted, irritated.

"Punk wanted to know about routes into the woods and rangers security. Weird question from a weird tyke. Forest is tax-free and everyone can go in," he snickered, amused by his own joke.

Sam grunted and left the man alone, knowing that he would be of no more help.

"Why would Jacob run into the woods?" Patience inquired.

"I don't know. Maybe it's his animal half, or... whatever, I don't know. Dean told me Jacob was out of himself, but I'm not sure he meant it like this." His phone beeped in his pocket and he took it out, sighing in relief after looking at the screen. "Well, this is unexpected. Our vanishing partner just sent me a message."

Sam showed her, and Patience couldn't keep the surprise from her face.

I think I found the key. No hurt.

Coming back now, wait for me.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

"You shouldn't have done that, Jacob," Sam friendly attempted to talk to him while walking through the forest. "It could have been dangerous."

"I've been taking care of myself for years," the kitsune retorted, annoyed. "I think I can manage a couple of hours without a nanny."

"I know you can," the hunter assured, trying to appease him. "The matter is that you don't have to. You don't have to be alone anymore, Jacob."

"Do I look like a stray to you?" Jacob yelled, turning to face him. "I'm not a lost kitten, Sam. And you'd do well remembering that the only reason I'm still playing this game is because I want to kill your brother."

Sam nodded, looking down for a moment and thinking carefully what to say.

"No way I could forget that, not even for a second. But despite what you might believe, I do care about you and want to be a friend that you can rely on. So I'd like to know, what else do you want?"

Jacob's eyes widened a bit, surprised. That was almost the same question that the other hunter had thrown at his face, a question for which he had no answer. Not yet, anyway. It's not like he had ever thought about his life beyond finding the man that had killed his mother and getting his revenge.

Irked by this, he ignored the younger Winchester and kept walking.

"How did you find it?" Patience asked after a while of uncomfortable silence.

"Something in this town smells like their angel friend and the one that found me. Since you were so sure that your key was near, I had a hunch. Just followed a trail and found that."

They hadn't walked that far from the town into the woods, but now they stood in front of a tiny ramshackle hut that looked like the slightest breeze would make it crumble to the ground.

"Oh, my..." Patience murmured softly, a hand over her heart, amazed by the feeling. "It's so clear and powerful here, almost like a song."

"Hey, wait!" Jacob made an aborted attempt to grab her wrist again, quickly taking his hand back when she flinched. "There's someone in there too, and something's off. Be careful."

Hearing this warning, Sam pulled out his gun and went ahead, having the kids stay behind. Hoping the hut wouldn't fall down on his head, he pushed the wooden door open and looked inside. There was only one room, since the hut was so small, dirty and deserted except for a body huddled in one of the corners.

"Hello?" Sam called out, slowly and carefully walking in, gun ready. "Can you hear me? Do you need help?"

"Go away," a trembling feminine voice said, and the body moved a little. "Leave me alone."

Sensing no immediate danger, Sam put away his weapon and came closer to the figure. This seemed to spook her, as she curled up even more. Her little squirming made something in her lap slip a bit, and the person hurried to clutch it back to her chest. It was something ethereal and glowing white.

"I mean you no harm," he spoke calmly, hands in air. "What's your name?"

"Is that the anunnaki key?" Patience interrupted, entering the hut with Jacob. "Claire said that hers was purple."

"Claire's had already nested and transformed. This one hasn't."

"Good. Then let's take it and be done here," Jacob suggested.

"NO!" the person yelled, frightened. "This is mine, you can't take it!"

"Wait a second," the psychic said, cautiously crouching a few metres away from the stranger but looking at her. "I think I recognize her. It's the girl from the 'Missing' poster! What was her name... Glenda?"

"Goldie," she corrected, breathing nervously. "Goldie Schmidtlapp."

Sam suddenly remembered, clear as the light of day. Fall River, Massachusetts. Goldie Schmidtlapp, the girl whose soul Amara devoured when Crowley began to lose control on her. But contrary to many others, his brother and him had been able to save her before that Marco demon could get rid of her.

"Goldie," Sam called her. "Hello, do you remember me? We met before, a couple of years ago. I'm an FBI agent. My partner and I helped you when a blond guy tried to kill you in jail."

Goldie looked up, not in the least looking calmer, but she nodded.

"Yes, I remember you. You were the taller one."

"Yes, that's right. Sorry, but... ehm, I kind of need to take what you've found."

The girl didn't answer to that, but after a stalling moment she scrammed to her knees, trying to run away. The sudden motion took Sam and Patience by surprise, but not Jacob, who rapidly reacted and took her by the shoulders, forcing her to stand on her feet.

"It's mine, it's mine!" Goldie kept screaming, protecting the glowing white light and desperately trying to get free from the kitsune whelp to no avail. "I don't know how I lost it, but I found it back! Now I can feel again! It's MINE!"

Sam felt his heart broke. He did understand the sentiment of being devoid of anything, the coldness, the nothingness. It was like the phantom limb syndrome, something that should be there but it wasn't. He didn't know in what way the Throne key superseded that need for Goldie, but he knew that the girl couldn't keep it. If only her soul hadn't been lost to Amara...

Wait a moment. A soul lost to Amara?

"Can't believe it," the hunter uttered, standing back up. "So this was it? Dammit, Chuck! Couldn't you have said so since the beginning?"

"Sam, who are you talking to?" Patience asked, bewildered.

"Calling the angel Balthazar, wherever he may be," Sam ignored her this time, praying. "Please, Balthazar, grace us with your presence. It's urgent."

After a minute of nothing happening, he smacked his forehead in realization.

"Right, he can hear me but can't find me due to the carvings in my ribs, and in any case he'd fly to the bunker. Jacob, can you do us a favour and call him down here, please? Tell him it's about the soul he's guarding."

"What? Why me?"

"You said it yourself, Balthazar found you. He'll recognize your soul."

Jacob did as he was told, and barely another minute later the silver-eyed angel appeared in the hut.

"I really hope that nobody is bleeding to death, because this designer shirt is..." he lost his smile and smug demeanour the moment he crossed looks with Goldie, "brand new."

Balthazar looked down to his belly and put a hand there, as if he was feeling something out of place there.

"No, thankfully nobody is bleeding to death. But I think you can be of help anyway," Sam informed him, before focusing back to the soulless girl. "Goldie, the thing that you found? We need it. It's not yours. But what you lost, my friend here has it. He has been protecting it, what truly belongs to you. If you want, he can give it back, but I need this light first. Please?"

Goldie stared at him, distrustful, and then at the blond man that had appeared out of nowhere. And Balthazar could take a hint, despite what others might think; he simply chose to ignore them most of the time. But not now. He concentrated his grace, glowing almost blindingly for a second, and took out the human soul that he had received in custody.

"I've flown around the world, expecting to randomly come upon you, but I couldn't find you," he apologized, holding her spiralling soul in hand. "Sorry it took so long, darling."

"Goldie, please," Sam repeated. "Give us the light, and you'll feel again. Everything will be fine, I promise."

She started to tremble, overwhelmed. As a lonely tear fell down her cheek, she opened her arms and gave up her treasure. Jacob let go of her as soon as the glowing white light floated gently towards Patience. The moment the psychic's fingers touched it, the light was absorbed inside her body.

"How are you feeling, Patience?"

"Ugh," she groaned, holding her forehead and blinking widely once. "Like my brain is going to melt. I see blotches behind my eyelids."

"Yeah, Claire said it wasn't nice for her either. You probably should rest. Let's go back to the motel, we'll call Jack again to return faster to the bunker."

"And what about her?" Jacob asked, meaning Goldie.

"I'll take care of this girl," Balthazar answered, surprisingly serious. "How long has she been soulless?"

"Around three years, if I remember correctly. It happened during Amara's release, when Crowley began to lose control of her."

"Got it. I'll make something up. She won't remember anything."

Sam hightailed out of there as fast as he could, teenagers in tow. He recalled very well the excruciating pain from when Death returned him his soul, and didn't want to be near when the same happened to Goldie.

Before long, the screams started behind them.

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Back in the bunker, everything was normal. Dean was still giving Sam the cold shoulder, but that was expected. However, before letting the last little adventure rest for good, there was one last thing that the younger hunter needed... no, wanted to know.

"Patience, can I have a word with you, please?" he asked the psychic girl after dinner.

She accepted, and they went to the Batcave for a little privacy.

"Sorry to ask you this, because I have the feeling it's not something you want to delve into, but..." Sam rubbed his nape, nervous. "What happened with Jacob? I mean when he touched your hand. What did you see?"

Patience tensed, clearly uncomfortable, but all in all she remained serene.

"I already knew that he wasn't human," she spoke lowly. "But I consider myself to be a tolerant person, not prone to judge lightly, specially after inheriting my grandmother's gift. When I shook hands with Jesse, I saw something rotten and twisted, but also something bright like a star. And I thought, he's half a demon, so this must be the worst that it could be? It's not that bad. But then, when Jacob touched me..."

A sob escaped her throat, too late to be covered by her hand. Sam didn't rush her, merely listening.

"With anyone else here, there are shapes. I can't see them clearly, not that I want to spy on you anyway. Memories, wants, fears, expectations... shapes that feel tangible to me in a very extrasensory way. But with Jacob it was..." She breathed deeply, trying to find the words. "A hole. A deep, fathomless, empty hole where I couldn't see the bottom. And there was nothing there. Sam, it was terrifying."

"Ok, ok, I get it," he hugged the girl, rubbing her back, trying to comfort her. "You can forget it now. I won't ask you about it again, Patience. Sorry."

She could forget it, but Sam didn't think that he would. He didn't know what was wrong with Amy's son, and worse, he neither knew how to help him. He worried what Dean could do if he ever found out about what Patience had just told him.


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