Mercy was stood in the hallway of Missouri Mosley's home; the two boys' already waiting for her in the Impala outside. She knew they were treading on eggshells around her. She wasn't surprised in the slightest. She had never broken down in front of them before, but the second the yellow eyed thing came up she had crashed. Hard,
She guessed it freaked them out more than they were willing to show. It was simply the Winchester way; bury your feelings until they disappeared. Not that it worked, but it was better than letting them consume you.
"You alright honey?" Missouri asked sweetly. She already knew what was going on in the girl's head. She was obviously happy that after all these years of self-loathing, she finally forgiven herself for leaving her mother behind that night.
"Yeah, I'm alright." The dark haired Winchester hugged the psychic tight in a goodbye. "I just need to have a word with my dad."
The eldest Winchester child walked away from the shocked Missouri. She found her dad sat on the sofa Sam and Dean had been on the day before. The man looked old, haggard. He obviously hadn't shaved in a long time and his posture looked almost defeated.
"You're an idiot." It was the first thing she said to him, in a familiar teasing tone. Like how she called Dean dense or Sam a giant.
"How did you know I was here?" John rubbed his face and sat up straight to look directly at his daughter. She looked good. Happy and proud, if not a little tired.
Mercy shifted to lean against the door frame, her trusty bag thumping against the door.
"I know you Dad, and I know Dean. Dean called you and you wanted to make sure it wasn't the yellow eyed bastard."
He looked at her with a proud smile. He stood and gave her a sturdy hug, the one specially reserved for her because she was his determined little devil. Also Mercy knew her brothers wouldn't let their dad hug them anymore, some sort of macho pride or whatever, but she found something comforting in the smell of old leather and oil.
She was a daddy's girl, so what? Thirty year olds were still allowed to take comfort in their parents.
"I better make sure Sam and Dean haven't managed to kill each other whilst waiting for me," She stated as she moved away from the embrace, "You better give them some sort of contact, we were going crazy wondering if you were even alive."
Her dad placed a hand on her shoulder, a silent goodbye.
"You look after your brothers Mercy. I'll contact you all when it's time."
And with that the three siblings were alone together once more.
It was months before they saw him again.
"Dean, you need to listen to our brother! Going in half assed was stupid and reckless and was almost barely any to help those girls! We got them out of pure chance, not skill! And Sam, stop talking to Dean like that! We all know we fucked up, but pinning it all on Dean isn't fair!"
Mercy was frazzled. The hunt hadn't gone how they expected and they almost lost the girls the shapeshifter had kidnapped. They were all covered in bruises and scratches, and Mercy had somehow managed to scrape her face along the concrete.
It had been a difficult hunt, stressful too. They weren't sure what was taking the girls or if any of them were still alive. They had only found out about the shifter when it had targeted Mercy, a mistake it soon came to regret as she had been wearing a silver ring on the hand it had shaken.
Cue lots of running around and being thrown into things.
With tensions high, it was a miracle that they had managed to get back to the Millwards motel before an argument broke out.
"You stay out of this Mercy! It's because of you that we ended up on that goose chase!" Sam yelled, walking closer to his older sister, his height and muscles' intimidating her more than Mercy was willing to admit.
"Whoa, dude. Calm it!" Dean forced himself between the two, trying to ease the tension. "Let's just think about what you're saying!"
He was unfortunately unsuccessful and Sam pushed Dean out of the way to continue his verbal attack on the eldest Winchester.
"No, I have had it! Mercy, you keep butting into discussions that have nothing to do with you! You always tell us what to do and never let us choose! You can't even let Dean go out without telling you! I have had it with you acting just like Dad! We're not children, and you have no right to treat us like we are!"
Mercy clenched her fists, her nails digging into the calloused flesh of her hand. She stood tall and showed him that she wasn't going to back down. Not from him or anything he says.
"I know full well how old you boys are! I don't treat you like children because I know you have grown up! But maybe I was wrong, judging by this hissy fit, you obviously haven't grown in any way other than in height!"
The youngest Winchester growled in response, his eyes flashing in anger. He looked like a dog that was at the end of his leash.
Mercy didn't look any better. Her hair was a mess, and the blood smeared on her face only increased the look of danger.
"There you go calling us boys again! Why can't you get it?! Stop acting like a bitch! We're not your children and you're not our mother!"
The room was suddenly silent. The last words echoed in each of their minds as they processed what had just been said. Even Sam looked vaguely shocked that he had let that thought slip.
Mercy stared wide eyed at Sam in cold dread. She was just trying to keep her brothers safe like she had promised. She was just trying to be a good big sister.
"I wasn't trying to be." Her voice was quiet, but there was an edge of harshness to the brittle words. "I'm not here to be Mum's replacement. I could never fill those boots. But I have done my, damnest to raise you the best way I could!" Her voice creeping louder and louder as each word was spat out. "Do you think it was easy?! Do you think I wanted to be responsible for two little kids when I was eight years old?!"
It was Sam's turn to start shrinking in shame. But she wouldn't let him escape. He started it, so he was going to suffer the consequences.
"You have no idea the crap I had to go through to keep you healthy and happy! What? Where did you think THE FUCKING MONEY CAME FROM?! I WORKED HARD FOR YOU AND THIS IS WHAT I GET IN RETURN!"
Mercy didn't let either of the shocked brothers have a chance to respond and stormed out of the room to walk off some of the steam.
Mercy had somehow found herself in a bar. It looked old and had some history. Not that Mercy cared about much beyond getting shitfaced at the time.
The guy on the other side of the counter was cute. He was the dark and lanky type with hidden muscle underneath the tight fitting black clothes. His chocolate skin glistened with sweat from the heat building up in the room. His shaved head making him look so charismatic coupled with the blinding smile.
Mercy couldn't stop her tongue from making a journey across her lips. Normally she'd already be half way into talking him into leaving his shift early but there was just something about him that got her to just stop and appreciate the physique of the man. Surely he had been hand crafted by God, because no one had an ass that gorgeous due to simple genetics.
"Hey, I'll have the strongest stuff you've got." Mercy slumped on the counter. Here was a piece of heaven itself, and she couldn't find the motivation to chat him up all because of that stupid argument with Sam. She knew she shouldn't have said any of that, and that he didn't mean any of what he had said.
That didn't mean it didn't sting like hell.
She gulped the amber liquid down faster than anyone could say "Fuck you Sam." The burn of the drink scorching down her throat, soothing the residual anger, and turning her towards the mopey phase of the after fight,
"What's got a pretty lady like you so down?" Mercy looked up from her drink to see the sexy bartender, the Louisiana accent melting her where she sat.
Like a well-worn coat, the infamous Winchester smirk slipped onto her face. Stuff Sam, she was going to get rid of some stress and was going to have fun doing it.
"That obvious is it?" Play the innocent girl, guys like someone who got them talking. Who doesn't enjoy talking about themselves?
"Let's just say, if you glare any harder there will be dents in the surface." Cue the small giggle. The smile she got in return gave her all she needed to know that she wasn't going to be arriving back at the motel until at least the next morning.
"Caught your boyfriend cheating or something?" He continued. Hot and caring, she loved getting lucky. A bit blunt, but that added to the appeal.
"Or something," She smiled, "Tell you what. Give me another glass of this amazing liquor and I'll tell all about my woes."
Within seconds her glass was once again filled and she took small sips, savouring the taste. Not many bars had such good whisky.
"So what's your name?"
"Mercy,"
He raised an eyebrow, but looked more impressed than confused.
"That's so strange, mines Arrick, it means mercy."
Let's just say that was the start of a wonderful night full of perfect stress relief.
"I'm sorry." Mercy mumbled to her youngest brother. "I said some things that I didn't mean."
She carefully kept her face and body language blank, sizing up Sam's reaction to her apology.
It was the day after the argument, nearing three and the two men were still moping in the motel room. Mercy had come to see the error of her ways after a great talk with Arrick over the best cooked breakfast Mercy could remember ever having.
The tallest Winchester just walked up to his elder sister and gave her a giant bear hug. The warmth radiating off him made Mercy want to cling to him forever. It reminded her of their father's hugs, sweet, comforting, and full of emotion.
"Oh c'mon, enough with the chick flick moment!"
The two of them turned to glare at the middle child, who was looking far too smug. A few moments pass before none of them can keep it up. The room is filled with joyful laughter bringing a type of light to the room that lifted their spirits.
"Come here Dean!" Mercy beckoned him closer. As soon as he was close enough, she dragged him into the embrace, sharing the rare occurrence. She knew it wasn't going to last, and that their pride wouldn't allow them to ever talk about these heart-warming moments.
There was something so sad about them growing up. They lose the innocence and ease that came with physical contact and it turns into something looked down upon.
She wished for the times when she could keep a hand on them and it wouldn't be seen as gross or misinterpreted by society.
She wished for the times when her brothers could say "I love you" like it was as easy as breathing. That she could say the same back without being mocked for a weakness that didn't exist.
Every now and again, she wished they could be children again, without a care in the world.