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Chapter title is from song by Kiss.
47
I'll Fight Hell to Hold You - Kiss
They were cruising through the scrubby flatness of eastern Wyoming when Sam spotted the large yellow tent by the side of the road. It was vaguely familiar, and he sat straight up in the Impala's passenger seat.
"Dude, pull over. Pull over here."
He gestured emphatically when Dean skidded a look at him, gesturing because he already had his phone out and was talking.
"Hey, Toby? Ask Zee to wait for us – " Sam looked around. "—up at the next gas station, okay? What? No, no, everything's okay. We just need to make a quick stop. We'll only be fifteen minutes." Sam looked at the sign above the tent again as it got closer. "Make that twenty. Wait for us, okay?"
He ended the call to find Dean looking at him strangely, glancing at the bright yellow tent of the roadside stand.
"I didn't think you remembered."
Sam just stared at his brother.
"Are you kidding? Of course I remember. That was the most fun we'd had in ages. Dad would have never let us do that. Come on, dude. We have to. It'll be perfect."
Dean glanced ahead at the SUV pulling away from them, lips tight like he was taking a chance on something, before he flicked the turn signal on grimly and pulled off the freeway.
He followed his brother's glance.
"You think she's going to bail on us?"
They were only a half day out from Cody. Down to the final leg, close enough to sprint.
"No." Dean said slowly. "Probably not."
"Well, come on, then." He put his hand impatiently on the Impala's door handle as Dean came to a stop in the gravel lot. "Let's go see what they've got in there."
It was hard, sometimes, to dissuade Sam once he got his teeth into something. The fifty miles to the next gas station were an eternity, and more aggravating because of Sam's shining certainty.
"She's not just going to disappear without letting Toby say goodbye, Dean."
His lips tightened, down at the corners.
"It'd be the logical thing to do."
Priorities. Protecting the cubs in their midst came first. They'd given her the perfect opening to bolt, adios and sayonara, down the rabbit hole and disappear into safety. It was the best move.
So he was honestly surprised when they pulled into the next gas station and found the Durango parked there, Toby sitting on the tailgate swinging his legs, working on a hot dog and a slushie. She was standing by the front of the SUV, gazing down the highway at the mountain range in the distance before she turned and slanted an impassive glance their direction.
"See?" Sam chirruped. And it really was a chirrup, because there was no other way to describe Sam's gloating glee.
He frowned forbiddingly at his giant kid brother.
"Whatever you're doing, Sam, stop it."
"Stop what?" Sam played innocent.
Dean's hand tightened on the steering wheel.
"This family thing, Sam. Quit trying to shove them down my throat. They're not Lisa and Ben."
He growled the last part vehemently, because goddammit, it hurt. It hurt to have things torn out of your hands. It hurt to hope and fall. It just frickin' hurt.
What was seething in him must have seeped through, because Sam took a deep breath and said more gently, sympathetically, "Dean."
He kept his eyes forward, staring rigidly out the windshield, not looking at his brother.
There was a tap on the window next to him. He swallowed the thing sitting in his throat, and stuck an expression on his face before rolling down the window for Toby. The kid's blue eyes were serious before Toby said: "Zee says we'll stay in Cody tonight."
End of the line.
Dean pressed his lips together briefly. "Yeah. That sounds good." Toby moved back out of the way as he opened the car door. "Come on. Gimme a hand getting these bugs off the windshield."
He wasn't sure how this had happened—this thing they did at the end of the day, sitting down to dinner together. Where did it start? Springdale or Fayetteville, or maybe Branson? One meal turned into two then into something they just did, falling into it because it felt natural. A routine.
Nothing felt routine now, in the home straightaway, the end looming in sight. It hung over the table as Toby picked at his burger, chewing slowly as if it would somehow drag out time. The kid's curly fries sat in a pile untouched, and Dean took another futile swig of beer.
Sam broke the heavy silence with another chirrup.
"How about a drive after dinner?"
Zee flicked an unmoved glance at his brother and said, "Sure. Why not?"
That was way too easy.
She'd figured out what they were up to. It wouldn't have been hard. That was why she waited for them at the gas station. She didn't want to spoil it for the kid.
He didn't know whether to breathe a sigh of relief or tense up again, because it was like taking one step forward without knowing if the next one was solid. Or even there. It shouldn't matter exactly when—exactly when the knife would fall—later or tomorrow or sometime on the road after that. They had gotten to Cody. Mission accomplished. That was the deal. Except this thing Sam wanted to do.
And Sam was pushing his luck.
"We'll take the Impala?"
He gave Zee a questioning look then, because it wasn't worth arguing over. She'd always liked having her own wheels, which was something he totally got.
She shrugged. "Fine."
By this point they were so far off norm that Toby's head had popped up, burger in his hand forgotten, looking from one face to the other, trying to guess what was up. It was hard to miss Sam's golden retriever anticipation, because Sam had no poker face to speak of, even though Sam was the one who wanted it to be a surprise, and maybe Sam had the right idea after all, because Toby was now completely distracted from the coming journey's end.
Dean put his maggoty hamburger back down on his plate.
"Well, what are we waiting for then? Let's go."
It was dark beyond the outer reaches of town. They drove far past the last house, and farther than that, until the night was pitch black around them. Toby leaned forward in the Impala's seat, trying to see where they were going. When they were far enough from civilization Dean pulled off the road a ways into an empty field, and put the Impala in park.
"Come give me a hand with the trunk, Toby."
He met Zee's eyes in the rearview mirror, watching as her long lashes drifted down, concealing her thoughts.
He got out of the car slowly, wondering why now, of all times, she'd be going along with Sam's foolish optimism. There was half of him that wanted to get this done, done and over with. Drop them back at the motel and just take off, back to the bunker or on to the next hunt, it didn't matter, just away. A clean cut. That was all getting scuttled as Toby came up beside him, a vibrating bundle of barely contained anticipation. It was hard to remember, sometimes, that there was an eight year old in there still.
He popped the Impala's trunk.
Toby's jaw dropped.
"No way." The kid breathed. "For real?" Toby looked up at him. "All of them?"
He felt himself smile. He looked up at Sam, at Sam's smug slow grin.
They'd filled the trunk with roman candles and bottle rockets, missiles and parachutes. There were boxes and boxes of them, fountains and spinners, smokes and snakes, aerials and whirlies, and just plain old noisemakers. Sam had even picked up something called a Furious Frog.
He'd given the yellow foil ball with a green frog face on it a skeptical look and said, "Dude, what the hell is that?"
Sam shrugged, "No idea. We'll find out, I guess."
And Sam was reaching into the trunk now for a box of blue and red rockets, the long tubes lying on their sides far in the back, saying, "Hey, I remember these. These are great. Come on, Toby, let's go check them out." while Toby grabbed a box of spinners and off the two of them went. He didn't know where Sam had got that from—because it was usually his thing, the pyrotechnics and the headlong dive into fun.
Zee came up beside him and glanced into the Impala's still full trunk.
He tensed up again. He wanted badly to turn, slide one hand along her chin, feel the silky glide of her skin beneath his thumb. Dip his head and steal that kiss, one for the road and one to go, a touch of warmth for the long cold days ahead. His hands clenched by his sides because she was looking past him at Toby and Sam, their faces lit by the boom and brilliance cascading from the sky.
She nodded towards the kids.
"Thank you."
"It was Sam's idea."
She skewed a glance at him, one eyebrow raised.
"Hmm. Wonder who he got that from."
There was a time when he would have made a move, because what could it hurt? He would have threaded his fingers through hers, slow and hot. Tugged her in to him, and whispered a kiss across her lips. It felt like that kind of moment, all chick-flick and not his usual thing, but his breath burned with it, wanting it, wanting to know if this fizzing whatever-it-was had substance and form, wanting to see where it went.
The booming noises overhead stopped.
"Dean!" Toby called out. "Aren't you coming?"
He turned to look at Toby beckoning him, bright with excitement, and Sam's rueful smile.
She had stepped away by the time he turned around again, but not before she picked a box at random out of the trunk and dropped it in his hands.
"Looks like they need you. You'd better go."