Thanks to Alyssa Ray for her help with the dialogue in this chapter!
There was a lot of mould and dampness spreading in the corners of the motel room walls. My attention was focused on a section of the developing infestation as I lay on the bed that I had claimed as mine.
"Dean?" I asked.
My brother's voice soon followed as he sat on the neighboring bed, sharpening his collection of knives.
"Yeah, baby?" he replied. "What's up?"
Lots of things, but mostly the fact that Dad had showed up again, in all his douchebag glory.
"What does he want? I mean what does he want with me?" I questioned curiously, my eyebrows arching downwards into a frown. "Does he want to be my Dad, or does he want me to just be one of his warriors? I don't get it?"
Like I've said before, life is painful and confusing. Everything was so simple once upon a time, then it came crashing down around me as if the sky was falling. Sighing, I rested my head back into the pillow as I turned onto my back, before craning it to the side in order to see my brother. Putting down the blade he was sharpening, Goose gazed over at me. Here we go.
"Well, I'm not Dad, kid, but I know he loves you, I've told you that," said the Goose, giving me a knowing look. "But I will also tell you that he wants you to be more than his little soldier. He wants you to be able to protect yourself against everything that's out there. It's just he has a hard time balancing it all, ya know. It would be so much easier if he was a mechanic and you went to school. But that's just not the reality of our situation. Does that make sense?"
Makes sense, loud and clear. Not. I gave my brother a brief shrug in response to his statement before sighing again.
"Well?" Dean asked inquisitively, waiting for a reasonable verbal response from me.
Avoiding his gaze, I played with my fingers. My eyes swiveled up to the ceiling, mould was spreading along there too.
"Nothing makes senses these days" I mumbled truthfully, taking my eyes of the ceiling as the sight of mould was making me ill.
Come to think of it, nothing has even made sense. Not for me anyway, which I find very frustrating and annoying.
"Care to elaborate a little more peanut?" quizzed my brother.
Oh I hate that nickname. I sat up slowly, resting my back against the headboard and crossing my bare legs. My fingers tugged at the bottom of my Pokemon nightdress.
"Inside my head, everything is crashing together like a huge pile up, to the point it gives me headaches," I said. "From all the issues with bullies, training, Dad, and even Sammy leaving. I don't know what to think or what to believe in anymore."
My brother frowned, clearly taken aback by my statement.
"So, you don't wanna train Chris?" he asked. "I thought you wanted to?"
I can tell he was hoping for my reply to be a no yet he knew deep down that wasn't the case. I've been stuck in the curse for too long now.
"Of course I wanna learn. It's the family business," I replied, gazing over at Goose briefly. "I'd be letting everybody down if I abandoned it. It's just hard, that's all."
Goose sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose.
"Of course it's hard! You're just a kid. A kid fighting demons and ghosts! Stuff of nightmares," he said, gazing over at me. "I hate to say it but it's never gonna get easy."
I raised an eyebrow as I glanced over at him.
"I never said it was gonna be easy," I returned. "I've known that for over three years now."
Ain't that the truth.
"Well lets bring up the two elephants in the room. Sammy and Dad. They're both kinda on our shit lists right now, huh?" Dean said, trying to lighten the mood a bit before the serious talk started.
I nodded slowly.
"I'm not mad at Sammy for leaving," I said. "I can understand why he left us. He wanted a normal life again."
"Well I can tell you Dad did seem sincere when he came, I don't think he meant to hurt you," stated the Goose with a serious expression. "Not that it make it right Chris. Sammy left, and I'm glad you have made peace with that, but I'm still struggling with it kid."
Obviously, I would have to have been dropped and kicked around like a soccer ball at birth not to know that.
"So back to Dad, he's gonna try to come back again," he added, giving me a careful glance. "You know that right?"
I nodded again.
"Do you think he'll be mad with me, for being this way?" I asked my big brother, my tone slightly worried.
"I don't think so. I think he wants to try and fix it," Goose replied, gazing across at me. "You should have seen the look in his eyes before he left. He seemed sorry, like he missed us or something. I hate to say this, but I think you should give him a shot."
I didn't respond after my brother finished, which allowed him to probe me further into speaking in order to break me out of a bad mood.
"So, are you gonna beat him up again when he comes back?" Dean asked with a slight smirk on his face.
"Unless its called for, then maybe" I mumbled.
His smirk quickly turned into a stern look. Uh oh. That sounded so much better in my head.
"What was that?" he questioned, leaning forward so that his elbows rested on his knees. "Chrissie, we have talked about your temper getting the best of you."
Another lecture and criticism, great. I hung my head in shame, zipping my mouth shut in the process to stop anymore word vomit coming out that would get me into more trouble.
"Well, young lady" Dean said, his tone becoming authoritarian.
I trembled slightly as I sensed his annoyance. Typical me, pissing everybody off.
"I'm sorry," I apologized. "Please don't get mad."
My brother sighed and ventured over and sat down on the bed next to me, he shook his head as he studied my expression.
"I'm not mad sweetheart, I just really, really need you to control your temper," said Goose. "And Dad is the perfect place to start practicing that, right? So you'll give the old man a shot then? Without showing him your sparring skills?"
What sparring skills? I have none worth praising. Teachers and other adults call me a wild alley cat. Like I said before I would only do so if it was necessary.
"Okay, shortie, why don't you get some rest?" he added, reaching over to ruffle my hair.
"Don't call me shortie!" I grumped, my famous scowl spreading across my face.
"But you are short, shortie" he replied with a wink, laughing at his own lame joke.
"Don't laugh at me!" I snapped, shoving my face into the pillow.
I heard him sigh in irritation.
"Oh come on Chris, lighten up a little!" he said, his tone getting frustrated. "Seriously, I don't know what the hell is the matter with you, but this is starting to seem more like an attitude problem, than you just having a problem with Dad or Sam or bullies. Now I suggest you fix the attitude problem or else you and I will be having problems."
Great! Now I was in trouble with Dean. All I wanted to do was vent a little, why did he have to be so damn touchy?
"You're mad at me," I mumbled into the horribly stale, lumpy, and once white pillow. "I understand."
"I'm not mad at you, but you are not making this any easier Chris," returned Dean. "This sulking and burying your head in the pillow is well, getting a little ridiculous. And you not responding is also getting a little old. But I'm not mad."
The pillow suddenly started to zoom away, then I realized why. Goose was pulling me away from it, in order to look at me. His hands cupped the sides of my face as our identical green eyes met.
"I just want you to start acting like my little sister again, I miss it," my big brother confessed. "I miss the rebellious and opinionated Chris, the one who tells it like it is, the one who never gives up. Does that make sense?"
She is still around, but my doppelganger is currently host at the moment. My doppelganger is the one in charge of the bad moods, temper tantrums and crying fits. She really needs to piss off.
"I'm just afraid" I replied.
"Of what?" questioned the Goose
Unzip the mouth because here comes the word vomit.
"Dad breaks promises, and lies. He drinks and when he does he gets grouchy and violent most times," I said, sorrow lacing my voice as I began to open up. "When I'm left alone, something bad always happens. I know you never like leaving me alone and you avoid doing so but Dad, he doesn't make any effort. He never tries, and that's what hurts."
I sniffed. Doppelganger is hovering around the water works, ready to turn the taps.
"I mean, what am I doing wrong?" I questioned aloud, my throat almost closing up due to emotion.
My brother sighed again, his gaze never leaving mine as he held my face in his hands.
"Chris, you aren't doing anything wrong. Don't you hear me when I talk to you," Dean stated. "Of course I don't want to leave you, and truthfully I don't think Dad want's to either, but sometimes his priorities just get a little backwards."
Huh. That's putting it nicely.
"I've noticed," I replied with a sniff, before adding sarcastically "Do I have to wear a chicken suit to get noticed by him?"
My last statement made my brother smile.
"I'm sure it couldn't hurt things," he responded with a grin, flicking my bangs outta my eyes with his fingers. "Damn I sure as hell would like to see you in a chicken suit."
I smirked slightly, letting out a tiny giggle. Goose's hands then rested back on his knees. Can't remember the last time I genuinely smiled.
"So instead of leaving you, would you like to come with me to get some food, perhaps some fried chicken" asked Goose with a grin, raising his eyebrows up and down.
God, I'm related to this moron. I rolled my eyes and grunted before getting off the bed in order to tug a pair of jeans on. Even though I was still in my Pokemon nightdress, it kinda looked like an oversized t-shirt. My trusty baseball cap was placed firmly on my head, only to have Dean pull it down, blocking my vision. Such a big brother move.
"Okay chicken legs where to?" I heard his voice ask. "What do you feel like?"
I'll give you chicken legs! My attempt of shoving him ended up a failure when I lost balance and landed flat on my face
"Whoa there kid, maybe you shouldn't be going anywhere but back to bed?" came Goose's voice as he helped me to my feet. "You okay?"
I glared up at him as I readjusted my baseball cap. A smirk was still on his face.
"That there was you're fault" I pointed out with a scowl, only to get a clap on the shoulder.
'Never my fault kid," replied my idiot brother with a wink. "Never my fault."
When we returned around two hours later, after Mr. Never-My-Fault spilt all off his Coca Cola on the floor at McDonalds, a figure waited for us outside our motel room door. It was Dad. Dean's protective instincts kicked in as he pushed me behind him as we approached Dad.
"Hey, now a good time?" Dad asked hopefully, glancing between my brother and I.
Dean nodded as he went to open the door. He opened the door and held it open so that I could enter first. I scuffled in, still studying my father's behaviour. He was sober, which was a good thing. Honestly, you could've heard a pin drop in the room. I hung back, aware of the tension being radiated between my brother and father.
"Why didn't you call?" Dean asked with no emotion present, trying hard to hold back his anger.
"Told ya earlier, I wanted to see you, check up on you," replied Dad, keeping his cool. "Make sure everything was okay."
Dad then glanced over at me and gave me a small smile.
"Hey peanut," he said. "How are you?"
I still kept my distance, the Doppelganger was still in control and she might strike out.
"Hello Dad" I replied simply.
Dad tilted his head at me as he gazed down at me, he frowned slightly.
"You look tired, you sure your okay?" he asked, to which I gave a quick nod. "What have you two been up to?"
Small talk is always painful.
"Nothing much" I said, still trying to keep calm.
I glanced over at Dean who then cleared his throat and took over with the conversation.
"We hit up a few hunts recently," Dean added, trying to keep the peace with words that shouldn't cause trouble. "Chris is really on her way to becoming a hunter."
Dad glanced over and smiled at me again, motioning me over with his hand. I slowly ventured over. Part of me wanted to jump into his arms and snuggle up to him. The other part of me, the Doppelganger, wanted to finish the pounding I had attempted to give him earlier. However I relented and went to Dad, wrapping my arms around him in a big bear hug. Tears filled my eyes as Dad returned the hug, hoisting me off the ground as he did so. I breathed in his familiar scent of leather and gun powder, salt and sweat. No stench of alcohol present on him at all. I looked up at him and grinned.
Dad then placed me back down before leveling himself with me, cupping my face in his large hands.
"So you've been hunting huh, you okay, no injuries?" he asked, studying my face closely.
I kept my mouth shut. Best not to mention the Baba Yaga incident. Why couldn't the nice moments just last, huh?
"I wasn't hunting, I did some of the research though" I replied truthfully as I gazed up at my father.
"That's great Chrissie" responded Dad, planting a kiss on my forehead, an action which made Dean literally growl. Dad's next statement took me by surprise. "We should go out and do something. Like a movie or miniature golf."
I blinked up at him in disbelief. This felt strange to me yet I welcomed it as it was something new. This was way to good to be true.
"Really?" I asked, making sure I had indeed heard him correctly.
Happiness is limited in my mind and as usually something came along to ruin the moment.
"Umm, no Dad, she needs to get some rest," Dean interrupted. "Maybe another time."
I whipped my head around and narrowed my eyes at my big brother, who was fixing his intense gaze on Dad. He was in full guard dog mode and Dad was regarded as an intruder.
"Why?" I demanded, to which Dean leveled himself down to my level as he tried to steer me away from Dad slightly. "Dean why?"
I folded my arms, waiting for my brother to answer but he was busy glaring at our father.
"It's okay sweetheart," said Dad, placing his hands on my shoulders, his tone sincere. "We'll go another time."
What if there wasn't another time. For once, Dad was making an effort and my brother was becoming a jerk about it.
"No! Daddy I wanna go with you!" I insisted before glaring up at my brother. "Dean, why can't I go?"
I clenched my fists, shooting tiny deadly daggers at my big brother, before a sudden realization hit me. Word vomit gushed out of my mouth as I glared up at him.
"You. Are. Not. My. Dad!" I screeched.
I couldn't catch the words as they spat out in horrid torrent. How could I say that! Oh the look on my brother's face as he stared at me in stunned silence, how could I say such a cruel thing to him. I could see the tears stinging in the back of his green eyes. Unable to look at him, I catapulted myself into Dad's arms.
"Don't leave her alone" were his only words as he marched across the room, keys in his hand, slamming the door behind him.
I shuddered as the door slammed shut before bursting into tears. My Doppelganger was cackling with laughter inside my head, mocking my despair.
"I didn't mean it like that!" I wailed.
I looked at the door, my vision clouded by tears, before making a dash for it.
"I gotta go get him!" I wept.
How could I be so harsh. I'm so stupid. That was by far the worst thing I have ever said.
"Oh no you don't," said Dad, grabbing me around the waist and guiding me away from the door. ""He'll be back, he just needs time to cool down honey."
I wasn't in the mood for battling, my arms went limp instead of thrashing around.
"But I didn't mean it! What if he doesn't come back?" I hiccupped as tears continued to stream down my cheeks. "He takes care of me, what have I done?"
Dad then scooped me up in his arms, carrying me bridal style towards my bed. My face buried in his collar, my arms around his neck.
"You were just angry, he knows you didn't mean anything by it," Dad soothed, placing me on the bed. "He knows how much you love him kiddo."
It was ironic how the situation had been completely reversed. I threw myself against the mattress. Dad rubbed my back soothingly as I cried, not leaving my side. Being a father, for once. Regardless to his presence, my heart continued to ache painfully.
"Don't worry sweetie, he'll be back," assured Dad. "C'mon this is Dean we're talking about, he's just pissed off. I'm not gonna leave you, so why don't you calm down and talk to me. I've missed you so much."
With a very heavy and hurting heart, I rolled onto my back in order to gaze up at my father.
"I'm sorry Daddy" I sniffled, regressing into a small child.
Dad cocked his head curiously as he gazed down at me, removing my baseball cap and tossing it onto the bedside table. One of his hand smoothed down my hair in an attempt to console me.
"Sorry for what sweetheart?" he asked, genuinely perplexed by what I was apologizing for.
I wiped my running nose with the back of my hand, sniffing noisily as tears continued to glide down my cheeks.
"For being mean and cruel to you," I said tearfully "I'm so sorry."
My words stunned Dad as his eyes softened, a sight which was rare to see.
"Baby, you were never mean and cruel. I'm the one that should be apologizing, for a lot of things," he said. "I'm the one that keeps leaving and not taking care of you myself. I'm the one that should be apologizing to you for how I act when I've been drinking."
I sniffed again, followed by a barrage of hiccups. Dad's thumb swatted away at my ever flowing tears.
"The only person you need to be apologizing to is your brother. He obviously thought you needed to stay put for the night for whatever reason," Dad added, raising an eyebrow. "That outburst seemed a bit harsh, don't you think. He may not be your father kiddo, but he is your guardian and elder and knows what's best for you."
I buried my face into the pillow, letting Dad's words sink in. The Battleship Winchester was sinking and I was alone, trapped, as the second in command was abandoning ship, disappearing in the last remaining life boat.
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