Part 2, once again co-written with brittpage21
Warning, this chapter contains angst/hurt and mentions of attempted assualt/abuse
It took them a good half hour to get to the bus station on foot. The trio then rode to the next stop and once they arrived to the second bus station Dean decided to make a phone call.
"Sam, Chrissie, sit down right here on this bench. I am just going to be right over there," he told them, pointing to a pole no more than five feet away from them. "I'm gonna call Bobby."
The remaining two obeyed their elder sibling and sat down. After a few seconds, Sam noticed a tear in his little sister's nightgown. The thirteen year old frowned.
"Chrissie, what happened? Why is there a rip in your night gown?" he questioned.
The five year old mumbled something under her breathe, something the middle sibling couldn't register.
"Huh? I can't hear you," Sam remarked.
"The man," replied Chrissie, her voice slightly louder. "He pulled it. Tried to pull it off."
"You mean the man from the motel?," quizzed Sam, his mind going into panic mode, his sister nodded. "Ooh Chrissie, I'm soo sorry. Don't worry. Me and Dean, when we get to Uncle Bobby's, we'll get you a new pair of PJs, okay?
The frayed end of the fabric provided some sort of entertainment for Chrissie, she stretched it between her fingers.
"He not nice. He heavy" she said quietly.
"What do you mean he's heavy?" the middle sibling asked, worry increasing in his mind.
"He sat on me. He went like this," the five year old said, demonstrating by tugging at her nightgown. She then added with a tiny voice. "He touch me."
Bile rose in the thirteen year old throat, his chest tightened and his heart raced.
"He what!," the younger teenager exclaimed, terror lacing his voice. He then swallowed and dreaded the answer to his next question. "He touched you bad? Did he touch you where you go pee-pee?"
His heart and stomach dropped in unison with a thud as Chrissie nodded.
"He lift my nightie dress up" she uttered.
"Oh my God," said Sam, in disbelief and horror. "Why didn't you tell us this sooner? This could be dangerous. We need to get you to a doctor as soon as we get to Uncle Bobby's house."
Anguish was evident in the child's large green eyes.
"I no mean to, Sammy," she said, starting to cry. "He scary. He hit me when I say no."
Sam brought his weeping sister onto his lap and cradled her, trying to sooth all the grief and pain away.
"Shhh, it's going to be alright. I promise you, it will be alright," he assured, he then lifted her head up so she was looking up at him. "We're going to have to tell Dean so we can get you checked out. You know that don't you?"
Sobbing softly, Chrissie nodded.
"Okay, but for now let's just sit here quietly and wait for Dean to get finished on the phone, okay?," said Sam, tears threatening his own vision. "Then we can maybe get something to eat and drink? Huh?"
Chrissie shook her head, now sucking her thumb.
"Okay, well, just lay your head down on my shoulder for now while we wait for Dean" he added.
Sniffling, Chrissie cuddled into her brother.
Leaning against the pole, the eldest picked up the telephone after placing quarters in and dialing a familiar number.
"Hello?"
"Bobby, that you?"
"Yeah, whose askin'?"
"It's Dean. We're not that far away. We're at the nearest bus station from your house."
"You with your Daddy? What are you doing at the bus station?"
"No, we're not with Dad. We took a bus from our latest hunt to this bus station. It's just the three of us: Chrissie, Sammy, and me."
The teenager propped his arm up against the pole, and pressed his forehead against his arm. Anger pulsed through his bloodstream, the very mention of his father could easily trigger him into commit an act of violence. His hands curled into fists:
"We kinda had a argument over our latest hunt. We were hunting a spirit and it preyed on young children. Dad had used Chrissie as bait as a distraction so he could burn it's bones. When were parting he said he sometimes had to put his family second. I couldn't believe him, Bobby. This job is more important to him than his children."
On the other end, the hunter said:
"Whoa, whoa, kid. Slow down. Take a deep breathe and explain to me what happened."
The seventeen year old took a deep breathe before repeating his statement:
"We're not far from your house. We were hunting a spirit."
He rubbed the back of his neck with his free hand, as he listened to the man he regarded as a second father.
"A salt and burn routine I take it. Then what, what's caused you to run away from your old man?"
Dean nodded:
"He said the spirit we were hunting preyed on small children, so he had to use Chrissie as bait to distract the spirit while he burned it's bones. After he finished he told us we had had the spirit's old motel room. He used his own daughter as bait."
Fury rose in is throat once again, a feeling he had to swallow down bitterly and he explained his story further:
"We had had to take Chrissie to the hospital because she got hurt and was also foaming at the mouth. But after a few hours the doctor was asking Dad some questions. Dad thought that the doctor was going to call Social Services and take us away from him. Then when we got back to the motel, I stayed in the car with Chrissie. Dad and Sam when to get our stuff. When they came back out I needed to talk to Dad. That's when he told me that sometimes he had to put his family second because people's lives are at risk. He told me this job is more important to him than his own children, Bobby!"
The teen bit his bottom lip furiously, drawing blood as he brought a trembling fist to his mouth, in an attempt to stop him from screaming out in anger.
"Alright, son, calm down. What happened to your sister? Was it serious, is she okay?"
"She slipped in the tub and we though she had a concussion. She also had a bruise on her hand and wrist," the youth explained. "When we got her in the car she started to have a seizure and was foaming at the mouth. We don't know how it happened and we think the spirit might have something to it. That's why we had to get her out of that hospital and bring her to a specialist doctor that knows of the supernatural. The bruise on her wrist was gone by the time we reached the hospital."
The seventeen year old caught his breathe, then the memory of him discovering the bruises all over his baby sister's body when he was removing her hospital gown. Stains varying from purple to black and blue. He continued with a sigh:
"Then I noticed more bruises, all over her body. I'm just so angry I wasn't there to protect her. I just wanna know what it did to her, cos I know something happened."
Bobby groaned on the other end of the line:
"Okay, boy, don't worry we'll figure this out. It wasn't your fault. Now, tell me one more time why you ran away from your Dad?"
Taking a deep breathe, the youth returned with a serious answer:
"The spirit wasn't an ordinary spirit, when it was human, he was a pedophile."
"A pedophile!," exclaimed Bobby. "Oh my God! It didn't, you know…"
"Don't say it!" Dean said, cutting in. "Please. I can't. I don't wanna. I don't know."
"Okay, boy, don't worry, we'll get her check out soon," the older hunter assured, before adding angrily. "I can't believe your dad. John the friggin' idjit! Using his own daughter to getting to kill a spirit. Don't worry, boy, I'm on my way. I'll be there in about 20 minutes."
The eldest sibling wanted this nightmare to end. He didn't want to see his baby sister in pain anymore.
"Thanks, Bobby" he said, swallowing thickly.
"Don't mention it, son," Bobby replied. "I love you boys and Chrissie like you were my own."
With a crackle, the line went dead. Dean ventured over to his siblings on the bench, it wasn't long before he noticed Chrissie was in tears as she sat on Sam's lap.
"Well, what did he say?" asked Sam.
"He's on his way to pick us up. Now what's going on?," commented the eldest sibling as he crouched down so that his gaze was leveled with his five year old sister. He raised an eyebrow and cocked his head at his younger brother. "Why is Chrissie crying? Chrissie, what's wrong, baby, is your arm hurting you more?."
He then took off his jacket and tore part of his sleeve and bandaged up the child's arm. Soft, silent tears streamed down Chrissie's freckled face regardless. As she shook her head, Dean noticed her playing with the large rip in her nightgown, his eyes widened.
"Where did this come from?," he questioned, lifting the nightgown slightly, exposing her thigh. Bruises were marked on her skin. His jaw dropped in horror. "Oh my God! Chrissie, did the man from the motel do this to you?"
His finger grazed the bruise, causing the five year old to flinch, fear etched onto her face.
"Oh God! We are gonna have to get you to a doctor fast," he stated, running his hands through his short hair. "Sweetie, when did he do this? Was it when you were alone with him?"
The brothers' were shocked as she suddenly began crawling away from them. She hopped off the bench began running away, as fast as her little legs could carry her.
"Chrissie!" the eldest yelled after her.
He commanded Sam to stay put as he dashed off in order to catch the fleeing five year old, like a bullet out of a gun. His speed took the child by surprised as he scooped her into his arms, once he caught up with her. Annoyed squeaks and squeals parted from her lips as she struggled in her brother's arms as he carried her back to the bench.
"I'm not going to let you down. You know better than to run off like that," he scolded, holding her in a vice like grip. "Young lady, I'm very disappointed in you. You should just tell us was troubling you, not run off like that."
Being reprimanded wasn't easing the five year old's mood, in fact it was making it worse. Sorrow and shame replaced her current feelings of frustration. They finally returned to Sam, Dean then sat down on the bench next to his brother, balancing Chrissie on his lap, not letting her down. Nevertheless, Chrissie continued to squeal as she tried to break free, growing more and more upset.
"Shhh, shhhh, calm down," soothed the eldest of the trio. " Don't worry, we will get you looked over and we will then know what's going on and what's wrong, as soon as Uncle Bobby get's here."
Just as that had uttered out of his mouth, he saw a truck that looked familiar to him.
"Speak of the devil, there's Uncle Bobby right, now" he added.
Catching her brothers' off guard yet again, Chrissie wriggled out of her brother's lap and charged towards the still animated truck.
"Chrissie, stop, you don't want to get run over!" the eldest squawked.
Thankfully, Bobby had noticed the child and halted the truck before it posed a threat to her safety. Relief washed over the brothers'. Bobby climbed out and picked the little girl up, who greeted him with a bear hug.
"Well, hello, little one, it's good to see you too" he chuckled.
The boys' grabbed their bags and joined Chrissie and Bobby over by the truck. Sam dropped the bags and hugged Bobby while Dean put all the bags into the back of the truck. Chrissie's feet met the dusty ground as she was placed back down, ashamed of her actions, she bowed her head as Dean and Bobby embraced. A shadow was cast over her, she knew it was her big brother, but she refused to look at him.
"It's okay, I'm not mad at you anymore," he said, getting down on his haunches and taking her hands in his. "You just need to learn to talk to us. You know better than to run off by yourself."
No response came from the child, who simply tugged at her nightgown, a miserable expression on her face.
"Baby, look at me, please" begged Dean.
Nothing. Chrissie was pulling at the bandage on her arm, and it accidentally came away. The three males gasped in shock at what was unveiled. A large red handprint had replaced the mark made by the IV drip. It was coiling around the crook of her arm. The little girl recoiled as she touched it. A certain degree of heat was being generated from the raised bruise.
"What the?," exclaimed Dean, his eyes wide with horror. "That wasn't there before. Oh God! Get in the truck, now! We gotta get her to a specialist doctor now, Bobby. Do you know of one? Please say you do!"
Bobby racked his brains, recalling ever contact and connections he knew.
Then he remembered.
"Well, I know one. She lives near Chicago," he said "I can give her a call, and she what she can do."
With Bobby in the driver's seat, the boys' climbed into the back with Chrissie in her eldest brother's lap. Dean covered his little sister's ears, attempting to shield her from further worry.
"Yes, please, by all means," commented the seventeen year old. "We have to know what is wrong with Chrissie. Please, hurry."
"Okay, I'll give her a call as soon as we get back to my place" the hunter replied as he turned the ignition on, making the truck animated once again.
As the truck sped along the road, Chrissie cried softly in her brother's lap. It resembled the whining sound a puppy makes whenever it is distressed. Her tiny fingers scratched at the red handprint, wincing as her fingernails scraped against the tender skin, yet somehow she welcomed the pain.
"Chrissie, please don't scratch at your bruises. It will only make them worse," cautioned Dean, swatting her hands away from her arm. "Please leave them alone."
As if in a daze, the five year old began rocking back and forth, tugging the hem of her nightgown, trying to cover her exposed legs. The brothers' exchanged a sad glance at each other, sharing the feeling of helplessness as they watched their baby sister disappear within herself.
"Shhh, everything will be alright," Dean assured her, holding her close to him, and stroking her brown hair. "Now, you just close your eyes and try to get some rest. We'll be at Uncle Bobby's real soon. You always have fun at Uncle Bobby's place."
Chrissie didn't respond, her fingernails clawed at the handprint once more.
"Chrissie, don't touch it, please," Dean said. "We'll figure it out when we get to Uncle Bobby's, but until then let me wrap it back up."
After reapplying the bandage around her arm, the seventeen year old wound his arms around his little sister, who was quietly crying in his embrace.
"Shhh, it's alright," he consoled. "Now, close your eyes and rest, okay."
Chrissie cuddled into her beloved idol, sobs still sending tremors around her body.
"I sorry" she wept.
"What are you sorry for? You have nothing to be sorry for," the eldest insisted, as his sister tugged at her nightgown. "None of this is your fault. We will get you some new pajamas when we get to Uncle Bobby's, okay."
"He say he had sweets," gulped the brokenhearted little girl. "But he no have sweets."
"What do you mean, sweetheart?," questioned Dean, before catching on who Chrissie was referring to. "He said he had sweets?"
"He say he had lollipop in his pocket," the five year old replied. "But I no see lollipop."
"Baby, I'm soo sorry," apologized the eldest sibling. "I'll make sure you get a lollipop if you're good for the doctor we get you to see. Okay?"
Chrissie shook her head in a negative response.
"I no like lollipops," she sniffled. "He want to give me big lollipop, a big lollipop that live in his pants."
A wave of nausea rose up within the eldest's stomach. What kind of sick freak would manipulate and abuse children? His mind raced with horrid images.
"Oh my God!," uttered the seventeen year old in remorse and horror. He hugged her tightly. "I'm soo sorry. I should have been there. Don't worry. We'll make sure this never happens again."
"He ripped my nightie gown when he try to steal it," confessed the little girl. "But I run away."
The image was as clear as glass. A fully-grown male attempting to manipulate a five-year-old girl's trust and innocence. It would make any sane person feel sick to the stomach.
"You did the right thing, baby," soothed Dean, trying to push the dark and disturbing images and ideas out of his head. "Now, no more talking about it. Close those eyes."
Hiccupping, the little girl closed her eyes, and within a few minutes the five year old was asleep in her eldest brother's arms. The brothers' observed her.
"I love how she sleeps," remarked Dean. "She looks so sweet."
Sam nodded in agreement, his eyes clouded with grief. The rest of the journey was spent in silence.
Finally, the truck pulled up outside Bobby's house. After climbing out, Sam and Bobby took care of the bags whilst Dean carried Chrissie inside. The eldest carried her upstairs and into her bedroom. It was always said that her room at Bobby's was her sanctuary, filled with the little treasures and belongings that she owned. She was placed gently onto her bed, the covers wound around her frame.
"I love you, sweetheart," crooned Dean, planting a kiss on her forehead. "Angels are watching over you."
Once putting their bags away, the boys' ventured downstairs, listening out for any signs of distress coming from their baby sister's room. They had even left her bedroom door open for their own benefit and reassurance.
Bobby gulped down a shot of whiskey as he sat at the kitchen table, reading the faded label with little interest. He wasn't alone at the table for long, when Dean slouched down onto the chair next to him, Sam occupied by Bobby's book collection in the lounge area.
"What the hell has your Dad done!" remarked the hunter in the trucker cap.
"As I said on the phone, he used Chrissie as bait and he is putting the job first before his own children," the teenager grunted in annoyance, then added with an irritated sigh. "Unbelievable!"
The older hunter slammed his palm onto the wooden tabletop, clearing not impressed.
"I know that ya idjit, I ain't senile yet!," retorted Bobby. He sighed, his gaze went towards the direction of the staircase. "That little girl upstairs is stronger than you think, you know. Hell, she ain't dumb either. She knows something's wrong."
Anger erupted within the seventeen year old, who nearly smashed the whiskey bottles into shards. His eyes blazed with fury and hurt.
"Bobby, He used his own daughter for bait!," he declared loudly. "She's five years old, for Christ sake!"
"Use that tone with me again, kid, and I'll rattle this bottle across that melon of yours" returned Bobby, snatching the bottle out of the youth's grip.
"Sorry. I'm sorry, okay," the seventeen year old apologized. "I'm just pissed with Dad right now. He's putting this job before his own family. Which isn't right, in my opinion. Family should always come first."
Sam was browsing through the book selves, scanning through a book on European Mythology. Educating himself always granted him personal freedom, he knew if he wanted to escape the life of a hunter, he had to work and perform hard. Maybe one day, he could go off to college somewhere. His thoughts were rudely interrupted by his brother.
"Hey bookworm, instead of reading, why don't you go check on our sister" commanded the eldest sibling.
The thirteen year old nodded and wandered back upstairs. On seeing his younger brother leave, Dean buried his head in his hands.
"I should've been there" uttered the youth.
"There was nothing you could have done," said Bobby. "Yes, I agree you should not have left a 5 year old alone by herself, but some things just happen."
"Not this!," hissed Dean, lifting his head from his hands, tears in his eyes, his voice threatening to crack. "Anything but this!"
Bobby placed a hand on the boy's shoulder.
"Calm down. You need to calm down," said the older hunter. "Hey, why don't you go outside and walk around the lot and clear your mind and just enjoy the scenery outside. Or go for a drive, borrow one of my cars?"
The youth shook his head.
"No," he replied. "I need to stay here in case Chrissie wakes up. Right now, I'm really the only one she will go to."
Sam reappeared, sitting next to his older brother.
"How is she?," asked Dean. "She still asleep?"
"Only just" replied Sam.
"Okay, I'll let her sleep for a couple of hours," added Dean. "But not too long or she won't sleep tonight."
"Last time I checked, she wasn't sleeping at all" commented Sam, with a slight raised eyebrow.
"I guess your right," the elder sibling. He directed his next statement towards Bobby. "She has been having trouble sleeping."
Suddenly, a loud thud was heard from upstairs.
"Chrissie!" exclaimed the brothers' in unison.
The males shot up from their chairs and charged towards the staircase, and up each step. They burst through the child's bedroom door and into her room. Chrissie was laying in a heap at the side of her bed, tangled in the bed sheets, it was clear she had startled herself in her sleep and had fallen out of bed.
"Oh my God! Chrissie are you okay?" enquired Dean as he rushed to her side. Chrissie cocked her head at him, eyes blank. "Bobby get your ass on the phone right now and call that specialist. Now!"
Bobby hurried off without needing to be told twice. The boys' inspected the five year old for further bumps and bruises, but the child simply stared into space and for once she wasn't howling in pain. The eldest then scooped the little girl up and placed her back into her warm bed, pulling the covers over her skinny form.
"Get me her Goober teddy bear" instructed Dean towards his brother.
Sam nodded and began raiding bag belonging to his sister. His hands swam through clothes and other obstacles before he could feel the soft, stitched material of the teddy bear's stomach. Pulling it out, he then handed it to Dean, who held it behind his back.
"Hey, sweetheart, look who we got for you," he said, before producing the bizarre teddy bear. "It's Goober, your favorite teddy bear!"
The boys' frowned as Chrissie failed to respond to her faithful stuffed companion, even when the toy was tucked into her arms. Tears began to well in her green eyes which then spilled down her cheeks.
"Chrissie, please just look at me at least" begged the eldest sibling, as he climbed onto the bed.
As she blinked, more tears dripped from her eyes, her bottom lip wobbling. The five year old soon found herself in her big brother's embrace yet again, her body stiff and shivering as Dean held her close.
"Bring me another blanket" the seventeen year old said to the middle sibling.
Obediently, Sam did as he was told. Eventually he found another blanket from his room and gave it to his older brother, who then wrapped it around Chrissie.
"There you go, baby," he smiled. "That'll make you feel better and warmer."
Cocooned within the folds of the blanket, Chrissie peered up at her eldest brother, eyes wide with fear.
"Ssshhh, it's okay. Calm down," comforted the seventeen year old as he cuddled her into his chest. "Hey, you want me to tell you a story?"
Not a single word parted from the child's lips.
"Sam, go see how Bobby's doing on that phone call" said Dean.
Nodding, Sam exited the room to find Bobby. Chrissie sniffled in Dean's arms, the back of her hand wiped her seeping eyes as she tried to be brave.
"I love you so much, sweetheart" whispered Dean, stroking the side of his baby sister's face. "We are gonna find a way to get you better. You just wait and see."
Bobby knew Celia Ferguson from his early days of hunting. In fact they several encounters. He would call her if he was in the Illinois area and needed some medical attention. Bobby had a large amount of respect for this female hunter, who also served as nurse part time. It took him a great amount of time to explain every single detail about Chrissie's condition and the events surrounding it. He noticed Sam, waiting patiently near by, sitting on the arm of an old couch.
"That's the full story," said Bobby, scratching the back of his neck as he spoke down the telephone line. "How long will it be until you arrive? Cos, those kids can't survive any more torture."
"I can be on the next plane out and be there within twelve hours" replied the female hunter.
"Twelve hours!" groaned Bobby.
"I'm sorry I can't be there sooner," returned Celia. "I'll call you when I get in and land at the airport."
"Right. Thanks, Celia" said Bobby.
"You bet, Bobby. See ya soon," she said. "I'll pack and leave right now."
"Okay, I'll meet you at the airport as soon as you land" added Bobby, assuring a curious Sam with an odd glance and smile.
"I'll give you a call as soon as I get to my airport and let you know when the plane lands," Celia commented. "Later Bobby."
The line went dead.
"Don't worry," Bobby assured Sam, clapping a hand on the thirteen year old's shoulder. "My friend Celia is going to pack and be on the next plane. She'll be here in twelve hours."
"Yeah, I heard," replied the younger teenager. "Can't she get here any sooner"
The hunter shook his head. The pair returned to Chrissie's room to share the news with Dean.
"This better be good news" grunted the older teenager.
"Yes and no" Sam said, knowing his brother's reaction.
"What do you mean, yes and no?" the seventeen year old questioned, a frown developing on his face.
"Yes, the specialist is on her way," admitted Sam. "But no. She can't get here for another twelve hours. Sorry, man."
Dean was royally pissed.
"Look at her!," he barked, indicating the child in his arms. "We're losing her!"
"I know! I wish we could do something!," snapped Sam, his attention traveled to Bobby. He sighed. "Bobby, do you have anything that can hold her off while we wait for the specialist to get here?"
Bobby thought for a moment then nodded in a positive gesture.
"Chamomile tea might work," the hunter answered, massaging his bearded jaw line. "Folks use it to calm their nerves. It also aids sleep."
Sam recalled a teacher he had for Geography a few months previous, Mrs McKenna. Life was stressful for this forty something teacher and her lack of sleep was making her grouchy, and every lesson she would sip Chamomile tea whilst the class was busy with their work.
"Okay," nodded Dean. "We'll try it. Go fix it."
The siblings focused their attention on their baby sister, who was struggling to stay awake, her hair wild and extremely fluffy. Sam held her hand and tickled the flesh on her palm in an attempt to make her giggle.
Sweat glistened on her forehead, causing her bangs to stick like seaweed and the odd bead to trickle down her temples. The five year old wriggled and let out a very faint whimper. Dean noticed this.
"Sweetheart, don't worry your gonna get better!" Dean soothed. then looked at Sam and said, "Sam, go get me a wet wash cloth."
Sam nodded and went to the bathroom to get the wet wash cloth.
"Where are we?" asked Chrissie, blinking her way out of her daze, she gazed up at Dean.
Dean looked down at her:
"We're at Uncle Bobby's house. Remember, we were gonna spend some time at Uncle Bobby's house for a while."
Sam then returned with the wet wash cloth. He handed the wash cloth to Dean. Dean then placed the wash cloth on Chrissie's forehead.
"I dirty?" pondered the little girl in a quiet voice.
"No. sweetheart, I just want to keep you cooled down. You don't wanna get too hot, do you?" explained Dean, compressing the wash cloth to her clammy forehead.
"I dirty" repeated Chrissie.
"No, we just don't want you to get a fever that's all" her brother insisted, dabbing the cloth gently on her temples.
"Scary man say I dirty," said Chrissie with sniffle. "He say I bad and dirty. He mean, he push me on the bed."
Dean placed the wash cloth on the bedside cabinet. He took her chin and brought her face to look up at him.
"No, sweetheart, you are not dirty," said the seventeen year old, his tone gentle yet serious. "You must never think that way. I don't want you to listen to people that say things like that to you. Ever. You hear me?"
Chrissie wrinkled her nose in confusion.
"Why he say that?" she wondered aloud.
"Some people are just mean and stupid," her brother told her. "People who say mean things don't think of others and how it could hurt their feelings."
Chrissie then scowled adorably, making the boys' chuckle.
"You don't need to worry about them, Chrissie," Sam added. "We will always be here. So if you need us, you just tell us and we'll handle one of those bad guys for you, okay."
Dean looked at Sam stunned. He knew that Sam could take on bullies but he always chose to leave his home life only for hunting.
"Okay," said Dean, still a little stunned. "Well, Bobby should be back soon. He's making you something to help you calm down and help you rest some."
"Is it medicine?" grumbled Chrissie, still scowling, folding her arms as she shifts into a sitting position.
"No, it's not medicine," Dean assured before repeating. "It will just help you calm down and sleep more."
Just at that time, Bobby then briefly walked into the room with the Chamomile tea. He handed it to Sam who then gave it to Dean. Chrissie glowered at it and with a brief sniff of it and turned her nose up at it.
"It not smell good," complained Chrissie. "It smell yucky."
"Sorry, sweetheart, but you have to drink this if you want to calm down and sleep better" her eldest brother told her.
"You drink it" grumped the five year old.
"I don't need to drink it," Dean pointed out, holding the cup out to her. He nodded at her in encouragement. "C'mon honey, drink this for me. Please."
"Chrissie, baby girl, don't you want to sleep and have good, sweet dreams?" Sam said, as he scooted along the bed.
The scruffy child pouted and took the cup from her big brother's hand and took a tentative sip. The liquid was strange tasting and unfamiliar to her, the face she made said it all.
"I know it doesn't taste good, sweetie but you gotta drink it," said Dean, stroking the back of her head. "It will help you sleep."
After several more gulps, the cup was empty. The cup was then collected by Sam who perched himself on the edge of the bed.
"Good, I see you're getting tired" smirked Dean, as Chrissie rubbed her weary eyes with balled up fists.
He then noticed that she had dropped Goober on the floor, through eye contact and commutication, the middle sibling retrieved the strange teddy bear from the floor and presented it to his little sister.
She hugged her inanimate best friend warmly as Dean picked her up, Sam laying back the covers at the same time. Dean laid her down onto the mattress, then pulled the covers back up.
"Now, you lay down and rest for a while" ordered the seventeen year old, his tone authoritive yet tender.
"Okay" mumbled the exhaustated little girl, yawning lazily.
"Sam, go on down," said Dean. "I'll be down in a few minutes. I'm just gonna stay with her till she falls asleep, which shouldn't take long."
The thirteen year old smiled in agreement and kissed Chrissie's forehead and giving her a quick hug.
"I love you Chrissie" hushed the younger teenager.
"Loves you too, Sammy" said Chrissie, fatigue threatening to overwhelm her.
Chrissie wasn't fighting sleep anymore, it was clear because her eyes were drooping like a Bassett Hound and she was constantly yawning.
"That's right, baby," whispered the eldest. "Don't fight it. Just close your eyes and sleep."
Dozily, Chrissie peered up at her beloved hero and gave him a cute lopsided smile.
"Loves you, Deanie" she said endearingly, hair spread out against the pillow.
"And I love you, sweetheart," crooned the seventeen year old, leaning over and ruffling her hair slightly before cupping the side of her face. "Always remember that. Me, Daddy, and Sammy, all love you. And Angels are watching over you."
He then went forward and planted a kiss on her forehead. The five year old cuddled under the covers, shoving her thumb into her mouth before finally closing her eyes.
Dean rose steadily and quietly from the bed and crept towards the door. His gaze fell upon her one last time before leaving the room, the door still ajar. Just in case the little girl needed her hero.
Isn't wee Chris the cutest, most scruffy and innocent kid? Tell me your opinions about characters and past storylines, I'm interested in your opinions. If there is any requests or ideas, then please PM me.
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