"Let's go." Dean set Riley's book down on her dresser and gave Sam a look when he didn't move. "Sam?"
"It's eight o'clock at night." The older man held out his hands. "We can't just show up at that woman's house in the middle of the night, Dean."
"Fine." He took a breath. "Where does she live?"
"Iowa. It's about an eight hour drive from here."
Dean nodded. "And how did you two find this lady, anyways? You never really told me that part."
Sam sighed. "We went to find the man who baptized Riley as a child. Bobby referenced some secrets her father had in the letter he left her." Pause. "The pastor we were looking for had passed away and this lady was his wife. She had Riley's baptism certificate and a letter from her dad and a necklace he'd left her. I never pushed Riley to show me the letter... I just trusted that she told me what the letter said."
"So you kept this from me?" Sam sighed and Dean glared at him. "Just trying to understand this here."
"Bobby told her to contact this guy. It honestly had nothing to do with you. Or so we thought."
Dean's jaw worked for a few seconds before he relaxed slightly. Sam wasn't at fault here. He was angry and it wasn't fair for his attitude to be directed at his little brother. "Okay. So then what?"
"Then nothing. She didn't share the part about her baptism with me... only with Castiel. Believe me, Dean, if we would've known..." The older man sighed defeatedly. "I'm sorry, Dean."
"I guess I'll grab a few hours and we can leave first thing." Dean looked over at Riley's empty bed. "Okay?"
"Yeah." Sam drifted out of her bedroom and Dean stood there for a few seconds before leaving her bedroom.
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Dean rolled over in his bed and looked at his friendship lamp for the seemingly millionth time in the last three months. He wanted so badly to touch it. See if he'd even get a reply.
Riley could be dead for all they knew and Sam and Castiel were unable to track her movements or whereabouts. It could go one of two ways; he could tap it on and she would tap back or two, there would be no response. Honestly, Dean wasn't sure which way would be worse at this point in time and he was going insane with all the unknowns. His heart was thudding wildly in his chest as he reached over and tapped the coppered base without giving it another thought.
He left it on and stared at it, waiting for a moment before he turned it off. Dean held his breath for nearly thirty seconds and to his shock, the lamp turned on for a few seconds, then turned back off. He tapped it on, then off again, waiting for a reply.
It turned on again and began a rhythm that Dean recognized and he chuckled to himself, not even realizing his eyes were stinging with tears.
Smoke on the water.
It was the exact same song he'd tapped to his lamp when he was finally cured from being a knight of hell, opening the lines of communication once again between them. That was also an extremely difficult situation they had managed to overcome. Dean smirked a little through his tears, the irony of the situation not lost on him.
Dean waited until the chorus was over before he turned it on and off again and his simple reply was returned. At least she was okay, he thought. Dean finally had some way to communicate with her, as small as it seemed. "Goodnight, sweetheart." He murmured as he stared at the lamp on his nightstand, amid his family pictures and empty candy wrappers. "We're coming for ya."
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Four hundred and seventy one miles away, Riley was wiping away tears even though she was smiling. Dean had finally figured out that she had her lamp and had reached out to her. He still cared and maybe it was dumb to think so, but it gave her some hope that someone still had some faith in her. Yes, he was probably furious with her and would have a lecture of a lifetime ready for her when she got home, but he still had faith.
Sometimes Riley wanted to give in, call them, but something always held her back. Maybe pride, maybe fear. Maybe a little of both. I only have four more weeks, then I'll call and see if they even want me back.
She slept on the couch every night instead of in the tiny, cramped bedroom, leaving the lamp on in the corner, still never sleeping in the dark. Thunder had been rumbling on and off all day, but not a drop of rain had fallen yet. The cabin was quiet and she wanted very badly for the rain to start. Ever since Dean had pressed the earbud into her ear that night she went to him for the first time, she'd associated the thunderstorm sounds with comfort and safety, two things that radiated off of Dean.
Riley wondered how angry he and Sam were with her. Wondered if they'd eventually figure out where she was. It had been three months and they hadn't figured it out yet, so maybe they wouldn't. She snuggled down into the couch and tugged the blanket up over her. Riley was wearing Dean's tshirt and some pajama pants, eager for anything that felt like home.
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Sam groaned softly when Dean called his name from the doorway of the younger man's bedroom. "What the hell?"
"It's six in the morning. Cas is gonna take us there."
"Car and all?" His brother nodded. "Let me get a bag."
"Five minutes." The door closed again. Dean had long been dressed and ready, waiting with his duffel in the garage when Sam came up the stairs with his own bag, wild hair and eyes full of sleep. "Morning princess." His snark made Sam smile.
"Good morning." Castiel breezed in then. "I will take you there." Ten dizzying seconds passed and the two boys and the impala were parked outside of Marge Frank's home. "Call me if you need me." He was gone in a fluttering of wings.
"C'mon." Sam led the way up the front walkway and knocked on the door. Dean saw some movement in the front window and the door opened a few seconds later. "Good morning, I'm not sure if you remember me, but my friend Riley and I-," The screen door was pushed open.
"Of course Sam." She gave him a tired smile before looking to Dean. "You must be Dean. C'mon in. I was just getting ready to make some breakfast." Sam looked to Dean before the two men followed the woman into her kitchen. "You boys eat yet?"
"No m'am." Dean answered quietly and she laughed.
"You don't have to call me m'am. Call me Margie." She was still in her bathrobe and pajamas, but she didn't seem to mind. "You boys like anything?"
"Anything's wonderful." Sam answered as he and Dean slid into the retro styled chairs in the small, dated eat in kitchen. The older woman hummed as she cracked eight eggs into one pan and stripped a pound of bacon into another.
"Rye toast okay?"
"That's great." Sam answered and Dean gave him a pointed look. "Look, Margie-,"
"I told her you'd come." Her soft voice cut him off. She poked at the eggs with a spatula before turning to face the two men at her table. "She told me to wait four months. You know, for the affects of the Mark to show themselves or not." Dean actually blushed at that, somewhat embarrassed that this woman knew so much about that ugly part of him. "I told her that I didn't believe that was gonna happen."
"Because of her blood?" Sam spoke.
Margie turned back to the bacon and flipped some of the strips. "My husband was a pastor, boys, and I always believed in good as much as I have evil and that girl is nothin' but good." She paused. "And no Mark is gonna stomp out that light she's got inside her." Sam smiled a little bit and she moved to pour them coffee. "Irish, Sam?"
"Of course."
"Dean?"
"Please." She poured them both coffees and fixed their plates before setting them down in front of the two men. "It's nice to cook for someone again." Her tone was wistful. The boys exchanged glances before she snapped out of it. "You boys finish up and I'll make ya a couple sandwiches for the road." A comfortable silence settled over the kitchen and the sound of forks scraping against the plates and coffee being sipped made Margie smile.
Dean gulped down his food, hungry for the first time since Riley skipped out on them and Sam hid a smile, his eyes moving from his older brother to the woman who was wrapping up their sandwiches. He rose to put his plate in the sink and spoke softly. "Thanks so much for breakfast... and for making sure Riley was safe."
She reached up and patted his cheek, her eyes sparkling. "You are so welcome." Margie turned to Dean, who was downing his coffee and juice before heading to the sink with his dishes.
"That was amazing." He leaned in and kissed the older woman's cheek and she laughed softly, taking his plate as he set his glasses in the sink.
"I'm glad you boys stopped by. Let me get that address for ya and walk you out." She stuck the plate in the empty dishpan and moved to a drawer and shuffled around until she came up with a pencil and a scrap of paper, scrawling some directions on it. She handed the paper to Sam, who nodded. "C'mon, I'll walk you boys out." She handed Dean the two sandwiches before they made their way back to the front of the house and out the door onto the porch.
Margie eyed the impala appreciatively as they stepped outside and Dean smiled a bit at her somewhat dreamy expression. "You know, I could swear I've seen this car before."
The brothers glanced at one another somewhat anxiously. "You have?" Sam asked quietly, almost nervous at what she was going to say. Had she possibly crossed paths with John at some point?
"You don't forget girls like this, Sam." That statement made a genuine smile grace Dean's features for the first time in months. He gave a knowing nod at the older woman. "When my husband and I first got married and he was working through his pastoral training, there was a gentleman he worked with on Sundays after church." She paused a moment, trying to remember the name from decades before. "I think it was Sal Moriarty or something like that." Her eyes twinkled a bit. "He'd pick Thomas up after Sunday service and they'd go hand out bibles to the homeless in town, getting folks ready for judgement day." That made the boys smile. "Shame though... he was an alcoholic and he died from a heart attack and my husband always talked about that car of his... how she just purred."
"When we get Riley back," Dean paused and Margie wiped a tear back before meeting his intense green eyes. "I'll bring her back here and let ya take her out for a spin."
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Dean was driving back east from Nashua towards the state park where Riley was, armed with very specific directions. Neither man had spoken after Margie hugged them both goodbye, making them promise to visit if they were ever passing through.
"If you give me enough notice, I'll make you a nice dinner." She patted Dean's cheek, noting the sadness in his eyes and the worry lines around the corners. "You boys be safe. Riley's one hell of a girl." Dean forced a small smile; he knew.
Nearly forty five minutes of nervous thumb drumming on the wheel accompanied with radio silence nearly drove Sam insane. He leaned forward before reaching behind his back and pulling out his gun from his waistband to check the chamber.
"Whoa." Dean swerved the car a bit, glancing over at his younger brother. "What the hell are you doing?"
"Making sure it's loaded."
Dean glared out the windshield. "We are not going to Margie's cabin armed with guns."
Sam frowned. "Dean, you don't know..."
"I do know..." He spoke quietly. "We are not walking in there with guns."
Sam smiled suddenly and chuckled. "You know what? I tired to teach Ry how to handle a weapon when you were gone and she refused. Just told me to go to hell... there was no way she wold ever use it on you."
Dean glanced over at his brother. "And I owe her the same respect." He saw Sam give in and he relaxed just a bit, another mile under the tires bringing them closer to the young woman who was bearing the Mark he'd fought against and lost.
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Hey y'all!
Shout outs to jloh217, SaphyraBlu13 and EmilyAnnMcGarrett-Winchester for reviewing chapter 33! You guys make my week!
So... I bet you guys forgot all about Margie by now. She was introduced in chapter 15. ;) I liked tying in her husband Thomas (who baptized Riley) along with Sal, who was the original owner of Baby.
Let me know what you thought of this one. Have a great evening!
CitrineMama