A/N: Okay, next chapter of Tuesday's Child is up and running. If you follow All the Pretty Monsters, I swear an update is coming, I'm just working out some kinks. That will probably go up tomorrow, I just need to sleep on a plot issue so my brain can resolve it while I'm not looking.
So, everyone's asking about when Gabe shows up, if the boys are going to keep hunting together, ect. Sam and Dean need to lay some serious groundwork between them before Gabe shows up, so that is going to take a couple of cases, but then he will be a very involved character, as will John, Anna, and Jo. I just want to work them in gradually. As for the boys hunting together, yes, it's going to happen, but everything isn't just going to fall into place like dominoes. Remember, Sam still thinks being around Dean endangers him, so Dean is going to have to work for it a little bit (which, come on, aren't we loving protective-without-knowing-why-Dean?) Fortunately, fate has a way of bringing people together, especially Sam and Dean Winchester. Book is going to pull around, for a multitude of reasons, and sometimes Dean's going to let him, because Dean's not really comfortable with the idea of needing someone. (Don't worry, that just gives them a chance to miss each other...). So, in case you haven't picked up on it, I'll state it directly. This story deals directly with the idea that Sam and Dean are canon soul mates (not romantic/sexual, but on every other level.)
Hence Dean feeling that Book is familiar, hence Book having memories of him when he shouldn't. Also, one theory of time travel states that the people most effected by the change (Sam, Dean, John) are the people most likely to sense to ….wrongness, or feel deja vu. I'm toying with Dean a little later on having dream/memories of Sam from the original time line. This story is set in four parts, and the first part ends when Dean discovers who Sam really is, so I have some room to play.
Let me know your thoughts.
Reviews are Love!
As Always,
EverReader
Tuesday's Child- Chapter Ten
"A Perfect Circle"
It was Book who first knew of Anna's fall.
Gabe didn't understand, at first. Even though Book was an incredible child, at three years old, he was, just, three years old.
She showed up in his pictures, time after time.
A falling star, a comet, a rainbow of light, a giant oak tree.
Again and again.
Eventually, Gabe picked up on the pattern, understanding that Book was trying to draw something he had seen in a vision, but hadn't completely understood.
"Book, what is this? Is it a star?" He'd ask.
Book just grinned at him from beneath shaggy bangs.
"Sister." Was all he would say.
"Your...sister?" Gabe asked in worried confusion.
The changed time lines meant that, yes, technically John Winchester could have a daughter, but Gabe had been doing his best to keep a discrete eye on the man, and so far, his third son hadn't even been born yet, much less a daughter, unless John was getting up to more mischief than even Gabe realized.
Book laughed.. "No. Not yet. Not Book's sister."
"She isn't your sister, yet? She's not...born yet?" Gabe had replied, seeking clarification.
Book had looked straight at him. "No. Your sister. Yours."
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Book breathed in a deep breath, trying to clear his mind, trying to focus.
They had cleared the furniture out of the way in Amanda's living room. Book had instructed Dean to lower the lights, and to stay well out of the way. Amanda now stood beside him, chewing her lip worriedly.
Book knelt down in the center of the living room, a bowl of Melinda's grave yard soil beside him, and a map of Lily Dale in front of him. Clearing his mind as best as he could, he focused on the soil.
Objects were harder than people, for him anyway. People were so full of life, of possibilities and energy and emotions, sometimes it was hard for him to not get a reading from someone.
But objects, unless some kind of magic was laid on them, could hold nothing more than residual energy, memories, echoes of emotions and events.
Soil was even more difficult to use as a focus, because soil itself was made up of hundreds of thousands of particles, quartz, granite, organic material, clay, you name it, it was present somewhere. Some of those things made a better focus, such as quartz...
"Quartz..." Book whispered out loud, as a thought suddenly occurred to him. He stood, turning towards Dean and Amanda.
"Book? You okay to start?" Dean said, stepping towards him in concern, leaving the ring of salt without a second thought as he came towards Book.
Book blinked. "Yeah, yeah, I just had a thought. Amanda, do you have a crystal ball?"
Dean blinked at him. "Seriously, dude? I thought that was what the dirt and the map was for? Is it not going to work?"
"I haven't even started yet." Book responded, looking around Amanda's living room.
"Umm, yeah, actually. I don't use it, not my style, but it's antique. It was a gift. It's here, in the curio cabinet..." She said, starting to leave the circle of salt.
"No!" Both boys said in unison, and she blinked, startled.
"Okay, what is it with the salt?" She questioned.
Dean and Book looked at each other. Book said slowly "I'm going to try to use the dirt and the map to track Melinda's bones. But there's a chance I might summon her when that happens, and your already on her hit list. The salt helps ward off spirits, it will help shield you from her."
"What's with the crystal ball, though?" Dean asked, coming to stand beside Book. He hadn't wanted to stay back in the circle of salt in the first place, but Book had been adamant.
Book looked at him. "Psychic's used crystal balls as a medium, because quartz acts as a focus. That's probably how Melinda is moving place to place, by using things like that. They must be scattered all over Lily Dale.
"Like satellites." Dean muttered. "So, what, you want to use it also?"
Book shook his head. "No, it's too dangerous with Amanda being targeted. Take it out, to your car, maybe? That way she can't use it as a back door in while I trace her bones?"
"Okay. But don't" Dean stressed the word 'don't', "start until I'm back. She still might show up."
Book looked at him for a moment. "Okay, yeah, sure. You got it."
Dean took the crystal ball outside. Amanda spoke up while he was outside. "So, is he always so...protective?" She said curiously.
Book looked over at her. "I'm not sure. We...just met."
"Bullshit." She said, making a face at him.
He shrugged. "Met him a few days ago. Think maybe he's just that guy."
She arched an unimpressed brow at him. "Uh-huh. Whatever you say."
Dean returned. "Okay, Book, you sure about this? This isn't pushing it too far?"
Book shook his head. Honestly, he had no idea if he could pull this off or not, but he was determined to try. People were dying, and he'd made the decision to stay and work with Dean, which meant he needed to be an asset, not a hindrance.
"It should be fine." He reassured Dean, who hovered awkwardly for a moment before reluctantly moving back into the circle of salt with Amanda.
Book knelt down again, closing his eyes. Picking up a handful of the dirt, he let it shift through his fingers, dusting the map lightly with a fine coating.
At the same time, he reached, willing his power to find the answers locked away inside Melinda's grave site soil.
Slowly, sluggishly, the dirt on the map rippled, as if it were being stirred by a gentle breeze.
"Holy shit..." Amanda murmured in the background, but Book tuned her out, tuned out Dean, tuned out everything but his own will as he funneled power into the search.
He felt warmth trickle from his nose, and shifted as discreetly as he could so his face was tilted away from Dean. He didn't want Dean becoming alarmed and stopping him before he got what he wanted.
He pushed harder.
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Dean stood inside the circle of salt, poised for action and feeling as useless as Book's bowl of dirt. He tried telling himself that it made sense for him to be back, out of the way, but still, alarm bells were going off. Psychic abilities were essentially receptive, but want Book was doing was projective in nature, closer to spell work that psychic work, and it had Dean on red alert. Back at the graveside, he'd been pissed off.
People were dying and he had nothing but an empty grave. When Book had offered to try and locate the bones using soil from Melinda's grave, he'd jumped on it, not realizing how much was actually going into Book's suggestion.
As he watched the young psychic, he could physically feel the energy in the room. It wasn't cold, like when a spirit manifested, instead, in felt electric, like when lightning was about to strike.
Dean almost imagined he could smell ozone.
He heard Amanda murmur in disbelief when the dust on the map began to swirl and dance, but his eyes were locked on Book's face, which had gone white with effort. He'd agreed not to interfere, and he understood that interference at the wrong point could be almost as bad, if not worse than not stepping in.
However, when Book shifted his face away, he stepped out of the circle of salt without hesitation. He moved slowly, carefully, as if tracking a wild animal, but Book was lost in his efforts, and as Dean came around to face him straight on, he saw that Book's nose had started bleeding. It wasn't too bad yet, but as Dean watched, another drop of blood fell from Book's jaw, dropping on the map.
That was enough for Dean.
They'd get their damn answers another way.
But before he could do anything, Book's eyes flew open and he jerked, nearly losing his balance and falling unto the map.
Dean was beside him in an instant, helping him to a sitting position carefully. Book blinked bleary eyes at him for a moment, before focusing.
"Book? Book? You good? Are you hurt? Talk to me!" Dean ordered sternly, but Book just held up a lightly shaking hand, silently asking for a moment before answering.
Dean's lips compresses unhappily before he turned to Amanda. "You got any juice? Orange, apple, chocolate, something?"
"Uh, yeah, yeah, I have some-" Amanda started to say but Dean cut her off.
"Don't care just go get it. He's gonna be sick if he doesn't get something!'
"I'm good, Dean. I'm cool. Just...need a minute." Book murmured.
"Yeah, you need something. Like a dose of common sense..." Dean muttered, pulling out his bandana and wiping away the blood from under Book's nose and chin. "What the hell were you thinking? Didn't you just give me a whole spiel about psychics dying because they pushed too hard? I wouldn't have agreed if I'd known it took this much out of you."
"Which is why I didn't say anything." Book replied, taking the glass of juice from Amanda with a grateful smile.
"Stupid." Dean said harshly. He didn't mean to be an asshole to the kid, but he'd been...frightened.
Or worried. Or something.
He wasn't very good at emotional crap, but he knew he didn't like how pale Book had gone, how his hands were shaking as he drank his juice.
"You need to eat." Dean said, falling back on the thing that seemed to work for sure, at least with Book.
"No, really, I'm good. I'm not even hungry. Just give the juice a moment to kick in." Book said reassuringly.
"Your nose started bleeding." Amanda said, eying the bloody bandana Dean still had clutched in his hand.
"It's okay. It just happens sometimes." Book reassured her. "The important thing," He said, gesturing to the map, "Is that I got it narrowed to about a one block radius."
Looking over at the map for the first time, Dean realized that the dust had all re-settled, forming a perfect circle.
Dean shook his head. "Dude, next time, skip the nose bleed and just settle for a two block radius. We'll just walk a little more."
Book laughed tiredly. "I'll try and remember that. Amanda, do you recognize the buildings inside the circle?"
"Uhh, well that's a saloon, that's the second street bar, and-" She started.
Dean interrupted. "Wait, second street? Where the pawnshop all your grandmother's stuff went too?"
"Uh, yeah, actually. 'Time and Again'". She agreed, looking from one man to the other. "Why?"
Dean looked over at Book. "Didn't you say that guy was a real deal?"
Book nodded thoughtfully. "Yeah, I did. Low level, but genuine enough."
"So, why is he running a re-sale shop? Why isn't he on the showcase?" Dean asked, turning to Amanda.
She chewed her lip. "Well, he used to do private readings, but word got around that he upset customers, told the what he called 'the ugly truth'. Most of the time, people want to hear good things, not the truth."
The boys looked at each. "So," Dean said, "A legitimate psychic in Lily Dale forced to run a pawn shop because customers would rather get readings from fakes? Sound familiar?"
"Sounds bitter." Book said, forcing himself to his feet.
"Whoa, whoa, where are you going?" Dean said, steadying him.
Book looked at him, confused. "Uh, with you. Genuine psychic, bitter ghost, good time for back up."
Dean shook his head. "No. No way, it's too dangerous. Plus, you're barely on your feet right now, and just being in the shop with the guy earlier threw you off."
"I can help. I think we both know I can handle myself." Book said meaningfully.
Dean swallowed. "Yeah, but this is my case and you're not getting hurt on my watch. Besides, you're done in. And someone has to stay with Amanda, in case Melinda shows up while I'm dealing with Mr. Real Deal."
Book opened his mouth and closed it again. Finally, he said "Okay. But be careful. He might only be a low level psychic, but he has Melinda under pretty good control."
Dean grinned at him. "Who me? I'm always careful."