A:N: Hey guys, sorry for the very overdue update. With the Christmas and New Years holidays, plus college, I haven't had time to update any of my stories. For which, I am sorry.
Anyways, here is the long awaited next chapter in the wee Chris series! Also, thank you to kissacazador for her help with the wee series!
John was very concerned about his little daughter. By registering her frightened tone of voice, John knew something was wrong.
"Uh, huh. It's me Daddy" sniffled Chrissie.
The child hugged her teddy bear with one arm whilst holding onto the phone with the other.
"Baby, what's wrong? Where's Dean?" queried John. "Put him on the phone, and let me speak to him."
Chrissie's pout wobbled uncontrollably, as salty tears filled her big green eyes.
"Daddy, Dean's dying!" cried Chrissie, deeply distraught.
John thought for a moment, thinking his little girl was exaggerating. He felt had a strange feeling, and that buzz inside him only surfaced whenever his children were in trouble.
"What?! Baby, where are you at?" questioned John. "Please, tell me. If you tell me, then I'll come and find you. We can sort this all out."
He wanted more answers about why his daughter was so upset. Something was definitely wrong.
"Uncle Bobby's," answered the five year old. "We're at Uncle Bobby's
With a heavy sigh, John pinched the bridge of his nose. This was going to be one difficult reunion.
"Where's Sammy and Bobby?" demanded John.
The line suddenly cut off, before Chrissie could answer her concerned father. Meanwhile, John left his motel, and headed straight for South Dakota since his kids were in trouble.
"Daddy? Daddy where are you?" whimpered Chrissie, clutching onto the phone with her tiny trembling hands.
Dean had one final upchuck of vomit, before immediately falling back onto the bed, sweating profusely, yet cold as sin.
Chrissie hurried over to her sick big brother, deeply worried about his health. The five year old wiped Dean's forehead, and handed him a glass of ginger-ale.
"Daddy called" she said, gazing at him with her big green eyes.
Her brother didn't register the statement she had just made, and simply nodded his head.
"Oh, that's nice," Dean managed to say. "Can I have a cracker to get rid of this taste?"
The obedient little nurse handed him a package of dry crackers, which he shoved into his mouth whole. After taking a few more sips, Dean laid down on one side and fell asleep.
Chrissie then heard the brick like cell phone ringing again. It startled her at first, but she answered it. It was John.
"Daddy?" asked Chrissie. "Daddy? Is that you? Where are you?"
On the other end of the line, John sighed in relief at the sound of his little girl's voice. Yet, it troubled him to hear the stressful tone of his daughter's voice.
"Hey baby, I'm on my way," replied John. "Just be a brave girl, and hang on."
The line cut out again. Thankfully, John wasn't as far away as his sons thought he was. Half an hour later, Sam entered the room to check on his siblings. He found the little girl curled up against the eldest, her eyes were open and her cheeks were stained with tears.
"What happened?" asked Sam quietly, as he slowly moved closer towards the distraught five year old. "Chrissie? What is it? What's wrong?"
The sniffles and hiccups coming from the crying child sounded both adorable and heartbreaking at the same time.
"Dean said he's dying," sobbed the little girl. "My brother is dying. Oooh no!"
Even though she was exaggerating the situation, Chrissie was still breaking her little heart over her sick brother.
"Oh, sweetie. He just said that since he's ill" said Sam, as he picked her up and carried her over to his bed.
Sam sat on his bed, with his sister in his lap. He gave her several sips of water, in hope to cure her hiccups. Chrissie was about to tell her brother something, when they heard loud voices and arguing coming from downstairs.
"Chrissie, stay here," instructed Sam, lifting his sister out his lap. "Keep the door locked."
Sam ran down the stairs, and instantly smacked into his father and Bobby.
"Dad?! Dad, what the hell are you doing here?" exclaimed Sam, his tone conveying both surprise and horror.
Bobby cocked his rifle, a deadly glare in his eyes.
"Get out, John; you're not welcomed here!" the older hunter growled dangerously.
John gazed at Bobby, a look both threatening and pleading.
"My kids need me! I'm not leaving this house. No! Not until I see my kids," John insisted, his tone laced with parental concern. "I know about Dean, Bobby. I know he's sick."
Sam chewed the inside of his mouth. This was the last thing that he needed on his already full plate. Everything, apart from Dean sudden illness, was running somewhat normal. Now, that their father had returned, it put the spanner in the works.
"It's been two months," added John. "The last time I saw my little girl was in the middle of a road."
Sam rolled his eyes, and folded his arms across his chest.
"Yeah, I remember, but you brought this on yourself," Sam clarified. "We needed to be safe from you, since that horrible incident at that sleazy motel."
John gazed upstairs. He heard sobbing.
"My baby is crying. C'mon let me see her!" John pleaded.
Sam turned to Bobby for back-up, but he reluctantly gave in.
"Fine, you get five minutes and no longer," muttered Sam, shuffling awkwardly on his feet. "She's upset enough as it is."
Sam then led his father upstairs, before making him wait in the hallway until he told his sister.
"Chrissie? Chrissie, it's Sam," said the thirteen year old, gently rapping on the bedroom door. "Daddy's here. Do you wanna see him for a minute?"
On the other side of the door, Chrissie hiccuped and lifted her head from the pillow.
"Daddy?!" sniffled Chrissie. "I want my Daddy."
John didn't even want to wait for a reply, and he pushed his son out of his path, and opened the door. His little girl was sitting on Sam's iron framed bed, sobbing.
"Oh, baby, c'mere," John quietly begged, as Chrissie immediately ran into his waiting arms. "Don't cry. Daddy's here."
Chrissie squashed her face into her father's collar, as she wound her arms around his neck, and her legs half way round his torso.
"I've missed you so much, Daddy," cried the five year old. "Why did you go away?"
John had always hated to see and hear his only daughter cry, as it pierced his already broken heart.
"I had business to take care of," replied John, holding his little girl in his arms. "I'm here now to take care of you and your brothers."
John knew Bobby was pissed.
"Let's get you cleaned up, then we'll have a chat while we wait for Dean to wake up" added John.
He carried her into the bathroom, instantly closing the door.
"Balls! Now he's never gonna leave! Dean is gonna be pissed when he finds out your Daddy's here," growled Bobby. "I blame you and her, with those damn looks you give me to get whatcha want!"
Sam gave him an innocent look, making Bobby storm out of the room.
'Maybe it was a mistake to let Dad back in our lives' Sam thought, as his sick brother stirred.
The eldest's eyes fluttered open and with a weary groan, he sat up. This gained Sam's full attention.
"Hey, you feeling better?" asked Sam, pushing the trashcan closer to his brother.
Dean had terrible bags under his eyes, and his skin had a dirty grey tinge to it.
"Yeah, thirsty," croaked Dean, while reaching for water. "Oooh, I still feel like shit."
Dean then noticed something as he gazed about the bedroom. The youngest was missing.
"Where's Chrissie?" he asked.
Sam began to chew the inside of his mouth again, a tell tale sigh that he was nervous.
"Uh, do you want some soup, ginger-ale, antacids? Do you need fresh water? " asked Sam, obviously wanting to change the subject.
The eldest shook his head, clearly wanting to stay on the previous subject.
"Sammy, where's the baby?" repeated Dean.
Sam ran his fingers through his hair, knowing that his words would only cause more stress and grief.
"Don't get upset," began Sam, aware that his brother was going to erupt when he found out that their father had returned. "When you were delirious, you kept repeating that you were dying, so Chrissie got that into her head. Then the phone rang. It was Dad. Chrissie told Dad that you were dying, so he rushed over here to help."
Dean bolted upright, his head spinning as he did so.
"What?!" squawked the seventeen year old. "Aw shit!"
Sam rested his hands on his brother's shoulder, trying to force him to lay down again.
"Dean, calm down. Chrissie's in the bathroom with Dad, she was really upset," reassured Sam. "She really wanted to see him, man The poor kid doesn't know any better."
Dean rushed to the door, but swayed in the hallway. Sam grabbed hold of him to keep him steady, however Dean swatted him off. Before they went into the bathroom, Dean heard the sound of the bath tub filling up with water. His eyes widened in horror.
"Shit! He's gonna put her in the tub!" he exclaimed.
Sam pushed the door open, just in time for John to turn off the taps. He was about to help his daughter into the warm water.
Startled, John whipped his head around to be confronted by his eldest child. A naked Chrissie was trembling violently, her eyes were wide with terror.
"Dean, you look like shit. Get back to bed," John ordered, unaware of his little girl's hydrophobia. "Now! I gotta deal with Chrissie first."
On seeing the frightened expression of his baby sister's face, Dean rushed over.
"Get the hell away from her!" Dean yelled. "Don't you dare put her in that tub!"
The sick teenager tried to move forward, but his knees buckled and he fell to the floor. Chrissie squeaked, before scuttling over to help her seventeen year old brother to his feet.
"Thanks Nurse Chrissie, but I got it," Sam declared, helping Dean to his feet. "C'mon, dude. I gotcha."
Once Dean steadied himself against the bathroom door, Sam went to Chrissie and guided her away from their father. The thirteen year old then helped his sister back into her clothes.
"Son, you're won't better if you don't rest. You'll only make yourself worse. Go. Back. To. Bed. Now!" the ex-marine sternly demanded.
The older teen glared at his father. Like Sam, this was the last thing he wanted to be dealing with.
"No, Dad, I'm not a child, but she is. You're scaring her," challenged Dean. "You're not to be in our lives for two months. I want you to leave now!"
John rolled his fist up, desperately wanting to smack the mockery right out of his oldest son's mouth. However his two younger children were standing between them.
"No Daddy!" squealed Chrissie, bursting into tears again. "Don't hit my Dean again!"
Sam pulled his little sister into a protective hug, wanting to shield her from any possible sights of violence.
"Ain't this just a nightmare!" exclaimed Dean, extremely frustrated about the current situation.
He didn't want this now. It was worse that his brother and sister were in the same room too.
"Watch you're damn mouth, boy!" John sternly insisted. "I'm warning you! Dean, go back to bed, while I bath your sister."
Chrissie's streaming eyes went even wider with fright. She let out a wail of despair and fear.
"Dad, she's afraid of the tub! Of water!" shouted Dean. He pointed at the quivering little girl. "You did this to her!"
Chrissie hated it when her family argued and had angry fights. It confused her.
Sam picked up his baby sister, who was now clothed in her Barney the Dinosaur vest and panties.
"Both of you need to get out of here," remarked Sam. "So I can finish cleaning her up."
Chrissie's face was tomato red as she howled. The child was completely confused, frightened and distraught about what is happening. Tears streamed down her little face, and she held her fists to her eyes. She thought her brothers would be happy to see their father, since he had been away for so long.
"Baby, do you want me to leave or to stay?" John asked, looking at his little daughter with sincere eyes. "Please, don't cry. I'm only gonna give you a harmless bath."
Dean stuck is head in the hallway, his anger and stress levels rising once again.
"Bobby! Bring me my gun!" yelled the sickly older teenager.
Sam glared at his brother, still holding the youngest in his arms.
"Dean, stop it!" he barked, as a terrified Chrissie buried her tear stained face into his collar. "You're scaring her."
Chrissie wriggled out of her Sam's arms, and dropped onto the floor. She then ran away into her bedroom in tears.
"That's just great," remarked Sam, sarcastically, as he grabbed a clean towel. He rushed after his sister. "Chrissie!"
John attempted to go after his daughter. He felt incredibly guilty about upsetting her. He honestly had no idea about her hydrophobia.
Dean blocked him from leaving the bathroom, his green eyes filled with anger.
"Get the hell outta my house!" he hissed.
That statement stung John's feelings. There wasn't a day that went passed that he regretted that one hunt, that resulted in his small daughter coming to harm.
"Your house?" John chuckled, "I guess you're still delirious then."
John pushed his weak son aside, but only to be met by a shotgun. Bobby stared down the barrel, his eyes were also blaring with anger.
"It'll always be there house!" Bobby shouted. "You got three seconds to leave, before I start shooting!"
John held his hands defensively to his chest, his eyes focused on the gun that was pointed at him.
"Let me see my little girl, she needs me" stated John.
The sudden gunshot narrowly missed John, but still made a very loud noise.
"What the hell happened?" Sam asked, peaking his head out Chrissie's bedroom door.
He was tightly holding the little one in his arms.
"Nothin', the gun accidentally went off," lied Bobby. He glanced at the small girl in Sam's arms. "You okay, darlin'?"
Chrissie couldn't speak, since she was too frightened.
Dean was about take hold her, when another shot went off. Sam quickly handed Dean the scared child, in order to put a stop to this.
"Dad, Bobby!" declared Sam. "Stop it! Hold on a second!"
Bobby turned, just in time for the other hunter to take the weapon away from him. Chrissie had been perched on the toilet seat, as Dean wiped her streaming eyes with tissues.
"Balls!" grunted the older hunter.
The younger teenager held his hands up defensively as he stood in front of Bobby. Even though his opinion on his father had been fixed for a few years now, he still felt the unusual need to at least find a way to reason with him. It was like swallowing a very bitter pill.
"Dad, put the gun down," said Sam. "I think you should go. I'll call you in the morning. Maybe we could meet you for a late breakfast. I need to speak to Dean about this."
Chrissie gazed at her father with blurred eye sight, due to her tears.
"Daddy" she croaked tearfully, her tiny hand reaching out for him.
The males found this sight hard to look at. Chrissie always had a special gift at pulling heart strings.
"I'm here, baby," said John quietly, squeezing his daughter's little hand gently. "I'm not going anywhere."
Chrissie just held her small fists up at her eyes, and cried.
"Dad, lets get her cleaned up. Then you should leave," said Sam, while Dean shot him dirty looks. "Come back tomorrow."
Knowing full well his sister didn't understand, Sam took action.
"Everybody out. I'm gonna get her cleaned up, okay?" he stated.
Sam pushed the others out of the room, locking the door behind them. He knelt down at the toilet, gazing intently at his little sister.
"Lets get you cleaned up, and into fresh Pjs," he said. "Even though its not bedtime, lets do this, then we can go downstairs and have a small dinner."
Chrissie timidly nodded her head. She had a mournful expression in her eyes, as her brother scrubbed her face with a wash cloth.
"Can you tell me what you're thinking?" asked Sam, while he helped her into fresh pyjamas.
Chrissie wrinkled her nose, making her look adorable and innocent.
"Why is everybody mad at Daddy?" she asked with a cute pout, which expressed her confusion. "I don't understand. Dean and Uncle bobby don't want me going near Daddy. I'm not allowed."
Sam sighed, his heart heavy with sadness.
"Don't worry about that, Chrissie," replied the thirteen year old, before changing the subject matter. "What do you want for dinner?"
Chrissie didn't reply, she went into her bedroom and hid underneath the folds of her bed sheets. Sam sighed, and followed her. The teen sat on the bed, a small notebook in his hand.
"How about I finish reading you 'Martin the Friendly Zombie', that story I wrote for you several months back?" suggested Sam. "Goober was enjoying the story, since he is Martin's side kick."
When she didn't answer, Sam continued to read his imaginary story from his notebook.
Chrissie remained silent. Actions which were very out of character for the five year old.
Meanwhile, in the kitchen, Dean paced back and forth.
"Why in the hell don't ya just leave already?" hissed Dean, his glare focus on John.
He still couldn't let go of the fact that he put the baby of the family in danger, and then claimed that hunting was more important.
"I'm you're father!" John barked. "I was worried!"
In the corner of the kitchen, Bobby took a large swig of whiskey straight from the bottle.
"Do you see what you've done?!" snapped Dean, indicating up at the ceiling, to where Chrissie's bedroom was located.
John hated this conversation, and felt utter guilt in being reminded of his stupid mistakes.
"Do I have to keep repeating myself with you! I did it to get that spirit! I never wanted Chrissie to get hurt!" shouted John. "I did it to save innocent people. What gives you the right to judge me! I'm still you're father, and I demand respect."
The older teenager just scoffed and turned his back to his father. John immediately got into his eldest son's personal space.
"You got something to say, then say it!" growled John. "Answer me right now, boy! That's an order!"
Furious at the battle going on under his roof, Bobby took another gulp of whiskey.
"Or what?" challenged Dean, glaring at his father. "You gonna hit me again?"
Bobby was ready to say something, however Dean silenced him with a shake of the head.
John looked his son up and down. Words couldn't describe in incredible amount of guilt he felt over the whole situation.
"Son, please, I'm not in a fighting mood," explained John. "It was a mistake, and I can understand why you all hate me. But, just think of Chrissie. She's only a little girl, and we can't keep fighting and arguing in front of her."
Dean just glared at him, his arms folded. He then noticed Sam coming down the stairs.
"Let me do all the talking, okay?" mumbled Dean, slightly pushing his father out of the way. "Sammy, how is she?"
Sam simply shrugged his shoulders in defeat, as he was unsuccessful in cheering his baby sister up.
"I'll go see her then" John remarked.
Dean glowered at John, like a protective guard dog. He wasn't letting him any where near Chrissie, until she was emotionally ready.
"No, I'll go!" Dean barked, before he bolted up the stairs.
Sam watched his brother vanish upstairs, his own aching heart still heavy from dealing with his little sister.
"Dad, maybe you should leave," muttered the thirteen year old. "Come back in the morning like I said earlier."
John sat down in a chair at the kitchen table. He pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed heavily.
"Sammy, you don't understand what I was thinking. I thought my kids were in trouble, and dropped everything," said John, gazing at his younger son. "That alone should say that I care about you all. You three are all that I have left. Besides, Dean's not the adult, or the parent. I'm you're father, not him."
Sam looked at his father. For the first time in a very long time, his father seemed sincere, and not his usual military self.
"Dad, I'm sorry it ended up this way," said Sam. "Dean was right to bring us here."
There was a calm silence between father and son, that is until they could hear the little girl crying upstairs.
Dean tried holding his sister, but she kept pulling away. Despite being small, she was strong enough to do so.
"Baby, let me help. I wanna make it all better" begged Dean, trying to hold onto her.
'How can I let him back into our lives? She's too young to understand that he put us in danger. If only I didn't get sick, none of this would've happened' thought the seventeen year old.
His cramps began again, causing him to double over in pain. The agony in his lower abdomen was getting worse. Sweat continued to gather on his brow. Chrissie noticed something odd about her big brother's behavior. The tears stopped, as she focused her attention onto her eldest sibling.
"C-C-Chrissie, g-g-get Bobby" muttered Dean, as he suddenly collapsed off the bed, landing onto the ground with a thud.
Chrissie instantly went to her brother's side, and began shaking his unconscious body, but having no luck what so ever. Terrified, Chrissie began screaming.
Evil cliff hanger! Mwahahaha! Terrible, I know, but it'll keep interest and suspense about what is gonna happen next :)
Stay tuned!
Please review!
(p.s. if any of you guys have ideas or requests regarding the wee chris series, then like me know, either through PM, or through a review)