Ok so the last post was save 10 and I see you all thinking so this has to be Save 11. Right?
Wrong!
This is a sort of pre-save 11 but as the story developed became essential to the plot. Save 11 will follow this one tomorrow!
The chapters just keep getting longer on us...it's those boys! They talk and talk and talk!
But you'll all be delighted to know we got our act in gear and Kirsty made this one better after we gave it comma-itis! Ah a good beta is worth at least £4.73!
The Twelve Saves of Christmas
The Hiker's Diary
December 24th 2.30pm
"Well no wonder he threw me over the cliff, Sam, we parked right on top of the poor guy and he was in a bad enough state without having my baby crushing his old bones as well!"
Dean swayed a little as he clung to his faithful crutch looking down to where Sam knelt beside the snow covered bones. The pain in his legs was now augmented by a searing tightness in his lower back where the muscles bunched and pulled insistently, a legacy perhaps of their insane but exhilarating toboggan ride.
He hurt like hell but the smile on his face would hopefully keep Sam from realising how crappy he really felt. It wouldn't help either of them for Sam to know how close to falling over and not being able to get back up he really was. He lowered his grey circled eyes to where his brother knelt in the snow at his feet, longing for the warmth of the Impala's interior but needing to see their task to conclusion.
Now that they had driven the Impala off of the burial site they were better able to see that the slight mound in the soil under the snow was the remains of a body. Sam had swept his hands over the area and other bones, beside the femur they had first spotted, were now clearly visible.
Sam nodded in response, continuing to clear with his large hands as he glanced up at his brother, sportingly pretending that Dean's weary smile did anything to disguise how close to collapse he was.
"So, what do you think happened to him?"
Sam's hands found the skull as he spoke and he held it up towards Dean, shivering a little as he did despite his 'borrowed' sheepskin coat. Dean carefully shuffled a little on his feeble legs so he could release one hand from the tree bough that had become his stout supporter, and took the skull in his hand. He raised it up to eye level and looked thoughtfully into the blank, empty eye sockets. He held the pose for a few moments as Sam watched, a look of amusement on his face. Finally the younger Winchester could restrain himself no longer.
"Dean?"
His brother's soft, green eyes turned from the skeletonised stare to Sam.
"Well?"
Dean shook his head and tossed the skull in Sam's direction.
"He ain't saying diddly squat, Sammy!"
Dean drawled, as Sam grabbed for the catch.
"You surprise me!"
Sam snarked, gently setting the skull beside the pile of other bones he had unearthed, before rising to stand beside his brother.
"Do you think it's him? Tannenbaum, I mean."
Dean nodded.
"Yeah, Sam. I do."
Dean's face was surprisingly convinced as he answered and Sam found himself nodding along.
"What makes you so sure?"
Dean repositioned his stick as he held Sam's gaze for a second or two, then he slowly, and with obvious, marked discomfort, moved closer to the unearthed remains. He scuffled the tip of his crutch around in the snow where Sam had been working as he spoke. Sam surreptitiously moved a little closer to his brother as he observed the increasing sway in his posture.
"Oh, I don't know, Sam. I just ..."
He paused and glanced nervously at his sibling, checking to see if Sam was going to laugh. Sam remained motionless, his face a curious mask as Dean continued.
"I don't really know. It's just a feeling. I...somehow I know it's him, that's all. I don't get a sense at all that he's malevolent. He doesn't seem to really want to hurt anyone. It's like he wants us to find him, Sam. Like he's been here too long and he wants it to be over."
Sam nodded, amazed at the vulnerability that he heard in Dean's words. It was so unlike his guarded, controlled brother to offer such esoteric information and Sam was touched that Dean felt able to share his thoughts.
"What are you looking for?"
Sam crossed the few steps to Dean's side as he continued to sweep his crutch through the snow that blanketed the corpse. Dean glanced up quickly and the motion rocked him on his broken toes. He jerked looking to relieve the weight from his broken foot only to load his ruined knee. His legs began to buckle beneath him.
"Owh, crap!"
Sam caught Dean's elbow and supported him as he sucked in air against the sudden flare of pain.
"Here."
Sam helped the limping man to an old tree stump nearby and settled him carefully down, straightening his damaged knee out before him. Dean's hands went to his leg as he gasped softly in pain.
"You okay?"
Sam crouched in front of his brother, his hand on Dean's thigh as the older man struggled to get his breathing back under control. It took almost a minute before Dean slowly released his knee and looked up. He looked exhausted; pale and drawn, and Sam knew he needed to rest real soon.
"How you doing, Dean?"
There was a significant pause before Dean answered, as if he was weighing up what to say. Sam watched as exhaustion won out over his brother's ever present need to protect him.
"I hurt, Sam."
Sam nodded, his heart hammering in his chest at the words that he knew cost Dean such pain to say. He looked into his brother's pale green gaze and was touched by the trust he saw there.
"I know. I can see."
Tears pricked in Sam's eyes and his voice caught as he spoke.
"We need to get you home and into a warm bed..."
Dean smiled ,a silly flirtatious smile.
"I don't usually put out on a first date, dude."
Sam snorted and stood up, laughing.
"Yeah sure, not what I'd heard! Well, maybe not a crappy first date like this!"
Dean's laughter joined Sam's, and in the trees the Christmas Hiker smiled too.
"So, what were you looking for?"
Sam scuffed his feet about in the snow, casually looking for any further small bones he needed to add to the pile he had unearthed. Dean glanced over the snow surface as if seeking something as he replied.
"I think there's ...maybe a..."
Dean paused, embarrassed.
"What, Dean?"
"It's as if he wants us to find something, Sam, like he's left a clue behind. Maybe like a note or a diary or something?"
Dean glanced at Sam. His deep green eyes looking for a hint that Sam was gonna laugh. He didn't.
"How do you know?"
Sam searched the snow covered area as he spoke and Dean rubbed absently at his knee as he watched.
"I don't exactly know. I just feel that he wants us to understand his story, Sam. Like maybe been trying to tell us from the start."
Sam nodded thoughtfully and Dean continued reassured.
"Think about it, Sam. He hasn't ever really hurt anyone. He 's just sorta...herded people towards this spot."
Sam stopped and looked incredulously at his brother.
"Dean. He threw you off a cliff, man!"
Dean tilted his head to the side, his tired face animated.
"Yeah, I know, Sam, but I think he was just...well, frustrated."
Sam laughed.
"Some frustration!"
Dean joined in the laughter.
"Well, I grant you, I could have done without the flying...and the holly and everything."
He rubbed at his many cuts, grazes and scratches as the warmth of his sheepskin coat made then itch a bit.
"But see, when I think back, he was trying to drive us in this direction."
Sam paused in his obsessive ground clearing and looked thoughtfully at Dean.
"Yeah...actually you could be right. All the way along he has sorta tried to 'herd' us towards here, hasn't he?"
Dean smiled as he nodded, pleased that Sam seemed to see his point.
"So, I think he was trying to get us to come here, to find him. But we were going in the wrong direction, looking for him and he, well... he got pissed and threw me over the cliff!"
Sam nodded sagely.
"Well, Dean, there have been many times when I have longed to chuck you ass over a cliff so I can understand his frustrations."
Dean raised his eyebrows and ignored his brother's off hand humour.
"So, you see I think he wants to be found. He's fed up of being out here all alone and wants it to be over."
As Dean was speaking Sam had crouched down a little ways from the body and was digging in the banked snow where there was a smaller mound evident. He cleared the dry, powdery snow and pulled at the buried object as he mumbled.
"Well, I'll be..."
"What, Sam? What d'you find?"
Sam stood, shaking the snow from the tattered remains of a cloth back pack. He held it up for Dean to see.
"Tannenbaum had a backpack on in that picture; the one you copied into the file, the one his wife took of him as they set out to hike that day."
Dean nodded and Sam crossed back to Dean and laid the pack on his brother's lap.
"Do you think it's his?"
Dean's voice held a note of disbelieving wonder and Sam couldn't help but smile.
"It could just be, bro. Open it and let's see."
Sam plopped down on a low log to Dean's side as the elder Winchester undid the strap fastening with his sore, shaky fingers.
The journal was weathered and worn and its once deep-brown cover had faded over the years but the back-pack had saved it from marked deterioration. The letters on its cover had been blocked in gold but there was little gleam left to them now. However, as Dean ran his finger over the J and T they were clear enough to be discernable.
"J.T...James Tannenbaum."
Sam spoke quietly and Dean looked up into his hazel eyes.
"Yeah. Go figure, huh Sam?"
As he carefully opened the fragile book, a folded note fell from the faded leaves and Sam leaned to catch it before it hit the ground. He turned it in his big hands and read the name written in shaky script.
"Evie Tannenbaum."
Dean took the stained, brittle paper that his brother held towards him and Sam watched as he read, his lips moving as he silently breathed the name inscribed there. He watched as the breath caught in Dean's throat and tears sparkled in his expressive eyes. And Sam was touched by the intensity of feeling his brother had for these lost souls.
"Should we read it?"
Sam tipped his chin towards the note as Dean looked at him.
"No."
Dean's voice was soft but emphatic as he looked into his brother's eyes.
"It's for her, his wife. It'd be wrong to read it."
Sam nodded as Dean reached under the sheepskin and put the letter in the inside pocket of his leather jacket. He took up the journal, again, from his knee.
"We should look at the diary though, Sam."
Sam looked at his brother. He was trembling a little. The dark circles beneath his eyes highlighted their vivid green but Dean could do nothing to hide the tiredness in them from his knowing brother.
"You wanna sit in the Impala and read? It's cold out here, Dean. It'd be more comfortable. Come on."
Sam stood and stretched his hand down towards his brother but Dean made no move to take the proffered help.
"What is it? Your ass frozen to the log?"
Sam joked and Dean glanced up briefly before dropping his gaze to the snowy ground. Moments passed before he answered softly.
"I don't think I can get up, bro."
Sam kicked himself for his insensitivity.
"My legs have ceased up altogether."
Dean's wide green eyes found Sam's hazel ones and Sam nodded. He hunkered down in front of his seated brother, speaking gently.
"Pass me the journal."
Sam took the shabby book from Dean and tucked it carefully into his pocket.
"I need to bend your knee so you can get your legs under you as I lift ya up. It's gonna hurt, Dean."
The older man nodded tiredly and Sam took hold of his brother's left leg by the calf and, as gently as possible, slowly bent the knee so Dean's foot was flat on the floor. Part way through the manoeuvre Sam felt a tightly gripping hand grasp his shoulder, but Dean said nothing. His panting gave the game away though, and Sam could see the pain in his face as he again stood before Dean.
"Okay?"
Dean nodded; not trusting himself to speak and Sam bent his knees and put his arms around Dean's waist.
"Put your arms round my neck."
Dean complied.
"On three. Okay?"
He felt his brother nod against his chest.
"One...two...three."
Sam rose slowly but steadily, taking his brother's weight as he pulled him up from the log seat and was unsurprised as gasp after gasp of pain whispered against his chest as Dean pressed his forehead against Sam's coat.
"Owh, Crap..!That hurts, Sammy."
Sam held Dean against his chest as his wrecked legs found what little strength they had and his breathing steadied.
"How you doing, bro?"
Sam felt the older man struggle to push himself as upright as he could and he carefully shifted his grip, throwing his brother's arm around his shoulders as he slid his other hand into the familiar round the waist, holding the belt, grip. Thus, side by side, Dean virtually tucked under his baby brother's arm, the Winchester boys finally made it back to the Impala.
wWw
Sam had tried, briefly, to persuade Dean to let him put him in the back seat so he could stretch out his injured legs. However, he might have well suggested they paint the Impala pink, and Sam gave up the battle and settled Dean back in the driver's seat, reasoning with himself that he'd swap with Dean when it came time to drive.
The big old V8 turned over, grumbling back to life, her throaty purr welcome and familiar to both brothers. A feeling of relief descended on the boys, both relaxing as the comforting sound of home washed over them. Dean absentmindedly stroked the steering wheel as he listened to Sam rustling around in the trunk.
"Hey, Sammy. Find the K-Mart bags in the back there. Bring 'em round; we got some cookies, chips, beer and water in there."
Yeah, just gimme a minute, I'm digging out the first aid kit and some blankets."
"Come on, Sammy. She's warmed up nicely now. Give her a minute to warm up and the heater'll kick in. I got a spare gas can in the trunk, so we're good for hours, in case the roads haven't been cleared yet."
Sam climbed into the passenger side, his hands full of old blankets and supply bags from the trunk and tucked Dean up, amid much grumbling that the elder Winchester wasn't a freaking invalid. Dean didn't refuse the blanket, though, and Sam was happy to see his trembling had almost ceased. He similarly wrapped his own legs, glad to be out of the chilling wind and reaching into his pocket, handed the fragile Tannenbaum journal to his brother.
"Check the exact date he went missing will you, Sam?"
Sam reached into the back and pulled the folder that Dean had so carefully compiled into his lap. He leafed through the papers, running his finger along the text, speed reading the words.
"Ummm...yup, it was Christmas Eve 1995, Dean."
Sam confirmed closing the file.
"Thought so."
Dean carefully opened the journal, looking for that date. The spine of the book was stiff, the old leather binding brittle and it cracked as Dean pried the pages open as delicately as he could. Dean read for a couple of minutes in silence as Sam waited patiently.
"Okay, here's an entry for a 20th December, 1995. I think this is important, Sam."
Dean handed the book to Sam and he began to silently read the text.
"Read it out, Sam."
Dean's voice did nothing to hide his exhaustion and Sam glanced briefly at his older brother. Dean's head was leaned back against the crazed black leather of the bench seat, his eyes heavy with sleep as he snuggled under the blanket as the heater finally began to warm the frigid interior.
"You need to sleep, Dean."
Sam went to close the diary but Dean determinedly rolled his head upright, turning stiffly to look at Sam.
"No, not yet! Sam, I'm alright."
Sam frowned and opened his mouth to argue. Dean silenced him with a single word.
"Please!"
Sam nodded and fumbled in the bags, lifting out their medical kit that he had brought from the trunk. He found Ibuprofen and held two out to his brother as he reached for a bottle of water from the bag of supplies.
"At least take something for the pain."
Sam reasoned as he proffered the pills, and, although Dean rolled his eyes, he worked his hand from beneath the blanket and took the medication from his brother. Sam cracked the top off the bottle of water and passed it over, smiling in relief as Dean chugged the medicine.
"Happy, Sammy?"
Dean grizzled, though his eyes betrayed his gratitude and Sam nodded as he lifted his own water bottle to his lips and drank, as Dean continued.
"I want to finish this. Please read the pages, Sam, and then we can go back into town and I promise I'll sleep for a week. Hell, a month if you want, but please read Tannenbaum's words. He needs this to be over. I need it to be over, Sam!"
Dean's pale face was determined and Sam knew he was defeated before he started. He nodded his acquiescence and, taking the book back up, started reading.
'I know for certain now that Elwood and Lyman are indeed embezzling from the mill. I had doubted it but I have gone through the accounts now and only they, as co-owners, could have signed the papers that have subversively stripped the assets of the firm for their own gain.
I don't know if they are aware that I see what they are doing. Maybe I imagine it but I seem to sense their unease with me.
I will confront them tonight and hope there is a rational explanation for what I see as I know that this will bring the company down, will crash the mill and hundreds will lose their livelihood.
I pray I am wrong and that the Harveys' can explain their actions.'
Sam paused and looked towards his brother. He had expected that he might see the elder Winchester asleep; as it was now finally warm in the car and he knew how exhausted Dean was, so he was surprised at the keen alertness that he saw in those familiar green eyes. This job had become personal for the elder Winchester and his determination to bring it to conclusion was palpable.
"So it wasn't him at all?"
Sam reasoned as Dean shook his head thoughtfully.
"No, seems not, Sam."
Dean nodded at the dry, old book in Sam's hands.
"Does it say if he did confront them with his suspicions?"
Sam gently parted the leaves of parchment dry paper and winced as bits flaked away in his hands. He skimmed through the paragraphs of Tannenbaum's neat handwriting as Dean watched and started reading again as he followed the, at times, indistinct text with his finger.
"I am inclined to believe that Elwood knew little of the plot to bleed the money from the mill as he has always been the follower to Lyman's leader, or maybe I would just like to believe that one of my partners, my friends, is not corrupt to the core. Unfortunately, though, it is self evident that Lyman knew exactly what he was doing and, in fact, seemed to revel in his audacity."
"I wonder if Lyman's the older or younger brother?"
Dean's voice was a mixture of exhaustion and curiosity as he interrupted. Sam grabbed the file from the foot well and found the newspaper story about the founding of the mill and the partners.
"Why does it matter?"
He scanned the grainy text as he spoke.
"No, I don't guess it does..."
Dean yawned, moving his leg trying to find an easier position for his damaged knee.
"I'm just curious."
"Unh..?"
Sam mumbled and Dean looked at his brother.
"He was the younger brother...Lyman, I mean."
Sam clarified as he put the file aside.
"Lyman was younger by 4 years."
Dean laughed.
"What's funny?"
Sam shook his head at his brother's mirth.
"We're 4 years apart, that's all. Seems appropriate somehow."
Sam raised his eyebrow and nodded.
"Yeah, I guess."
He tapped the pages of the old diary.
"There's more here. You wanna hear it? It's dated 23rd December 1995, the day before the hike that he never returned from."
Dean nodded sleepily, fighting to keep his eyes from closing in the warmth of the Impala's interior as Sam resumed.
'Elwood has agreed that they will go with me to the authorities and I will help them plead for clemency. I believe Elwood is sorry for the devastation we are going to bring to Bethlehem but I am not convinced about Lyman.
He seems a changed character in my eyes. Not the man I have known and trusted for years. He is unrepentant and, if I did not know him as I do, I would think he was utterly unconcerned by his damming actions.'
Sam skipped forward a few sentences as Dean drank his water and watched through the windscreen as the soft snow fell on the burial site they had cleared. Tannenbaum's bones were being slowly covered again with a masking layer of white, just as the reasons why he lay there were being uncovered. It was an interesting contrast. Dean dragged his attention back to Sam's words as he continued to read Tannenbaum's writings.
'I have agreed we will hike the South Mountain one last time. Tomorrow is Christmas Eve and it has become our tradition to hike the hill together.
I will let Lyman and Elwood have a last Christmas with their families before I bring this down on them. I can do that for them, if nothing more.
And I must work out how to tell Evie what I have allowed to happen. My god, I hope she will understand I had no part in this. I could not bear to think she thought badly of me.
I love her more now than when I met her and this news is going to devastate her.'
Sam paused, staring down at the faded cover for a few seconds before he turned to his brother. Even in the fading light Dean could see the sparkle of tears in the younger man's eyes.
"So they hiked..."
Dean murmured softly, turning to Sam.
"And they killed him?"
Sam's face was pale in the moonlight.
"It would seem so."
Sam sighed as he replied and Dean slumped a little in the blankets.
"Is there any more in the diary?"
The older man reached toward Sam and gently took the book from his hands as Sam pulled the blanket tighter around his own body, suddenly cold despite the warmth from the Impala's faithful old heater. Dean leafed carefully through the diary, returning to the spot where Sam had stopped and then turning the next page.
Here the script on the stained pages changed form significantly. Tannenbaum's neat measured writing gave way to increasingly shaky text that belied the condition his words described. The pages too were heavily stained with the dull brown of old blood. Dean read quietly the final entry.
'It is, I suppose, Christmas Day now as I think hours have passed since they left me bleeding in the snow. And I know for sure now that no one is going to come to my rescue, and I am going to die.
We hiked to the Star, atop South Mountain on Christmas Eve, as we have for all the years we have lived here in Bethlehem. The woods were beautiful as always.
Elwood tried his damndest to persuade me to keep my peace and not to disclose that the mill is bankrupt due to their corruption. It was pitiful, but I knew I could not weaken.
Lyman said very little, but his face scared me. He was not the man I knew anymore and I could feel Elwood's terror of his own brother.
Still, I had not expected the gunshot when it came, and I think Elwood was as shocked as I.
I did not fully realise what had happened straight away, but the blood and the pain in my gut told me I was mortally wounded. I watched them argue for what seemed like an eternity until Elwood persuaded Lyman to leave me and flee. The words were indistinct to me as the sound of my pain roared in my ears but I will never forget the blackness of Lyman's eyes as he watched me stain the snow crimson.
Those eyes were ...inhuman.
So, I have stumbled and crawled to this place and here I think I shall die.
It is a peaceful place but I do not think my soul will find peace. How will Evie know what has become of me?
I fear they, the brothers who have ruined my life, will lay blame for this atrocity at my door and though I know my Evie will not believe them, she will have no proof.
Thus, I have written this note to her and I pray to God that, one day, I will be able to know she has received it.'
"Stop a minute, Dean."
The younger Winchester's face was alive with curiosity.
"Go back to that bit about Lyman's eyes..."
Dean frowned in concentration and ran his finger over the page as he tracked back to the paragraph and re-read James' words.
'...my pain roared in my ears but I will never forget the blackness of Lyman's eyes as he watched me stain the snow crimson.'
The brothers held each other's gaze for moments in horrified realisation, before Dean finally voiced their shared conclusion.
"Holy shit, Sammy. Are you thinking what I'm thinking?"
Sam nodded slowly before wincing slightly as Dean quipped in delight.
"Well, I'll be damned if it isn't Lyman, the demon!"
Sam groaned and rolled his eyes and Dean snickered as he returned to the diary.
The script had become indistinct scrawl making Dean's eyes water with the effort of reading the words but he continued, becoming serious once more as he repeated Tannenbaum's last words into the now warm interior of the Impala.
'The sun is rising now and it is beautiful but my strength is fading.
Whoever you are who reads this, please let my Evie know I love her and I am sorry for leaving her like this...If I know that I have her love, then can I find peace.'
Dean closed the diary and placed it carefully on the seat between Sam and himself.
"I wonder if she still lives in Bethlehem?"
Sam said quietly after a few moments. Dean turned his head to his brother and smiled softly.
"I doubt it. Would you stay here?"
Sam slowly shook his head.
"But if she's alive we'll find her, Sam."
There was determination in Dean's voice and Sam returned the smile. He tipped his head to the bones where they lay before the car.
"What do we do about...James?"
Dean followed his gaze to the sad little pile of remains of the man they felt they had come to know.
"Leave him. This has been his resting place and once we find Evie and give him his peace it could be as good a place as any to rest."
Sam nodded hesitantly.
"What, Sam?"
Dean could feel the unease emanating from his brother.
"We don't salt and burn him?"
Dean shook his head.
"He's not malevolent, Sam. He was just pissed! And he's had enough of brothers' attacking him on this mountain."
Sam looked again at the bones.
"We'll tell the police in Bethlehem where they can find him...anonymously, of course! Maybe we should mark the grave somehow; it's nearly covered over already, at this rate it'll just disappear. We don't want James pissed again, do we?"
Dean smiled, sadly.
"Yeah, the last thing we need is to explain how we found him. You're right. We do need to mark it up, though, but I don't think James'll be causing any more trouble now that we've found his diary. I think he just wanted to let Evie know he hadn't just left her holding the bag when the shit hit the fan, back then. Hell, he just wanted her to know he still loved her."
He finished quietly, eyes downcast.
"I guess you're right. Just gimme a minute, I'll drag that big, ole fallen branch over."
Sam pulled the fleece around him, shivering as he stepped from the car.
Dean watched through the haze of snow, as Sam hauled the mistletoe-clad bough, sliding and stumbling, towards the disturbed mound of snow.
He winced at the icy blast of wind that followed Sam back through the door.
"Think that'll do?"
"Yeah, Sammy. That'll do just fine."
As he spoke, Dean reached out slipping the car into drive. Sam's restraining hand touched his arm and he paused.
"What?"
Dean glared at Sam's hand and, after a second or two, the younger Winchester released his grip.
"Are you really fit to drive, Dean? Can you even press the pedals?"
It was a reasonable observation but not one Dean appreciated, and his disgusted face told Sam as much.
"Like you really think I'm gonna let you drive my baby off of a haunted mountain in the middle of a snow storm?"
Sam shrugged, and then smiled as Dean revved the softly purring engine to a roar, just to show he could.
"Come on, Sammy. Let's get back to civilisation. See if there's any freakin' room at the Inn!"
Ends
So, Save 11 follows tomorrow. It's a fun one..well not for poor Dean! For him it's painful but then we like us a bit of Dean pain! Muuwahhaaaa! All reviews lovingly cherished.