Hi all. Just wanted to take a quick second to thank everyone who's been taking the time out of their day to read this little fic of mine. Hope you all are enjoying it as much as I'm enjoying writing it. :)
Chapter Seven
When Cal woke again she was alone. The linoleum under her cheek was cool and biting. The oversized towel she was wrapped in wasn't quite thick enough to keep her warm. There were large obnoxious bells clanging around in her head giving her the feeling of being just a tad unhinged.
Disorientation was the name of the game. She had to wonder briefly if maybe this was the result of an awesome night out or a hunt gone wrong. It certainly wasn't the first time she'd had to wonder and it probably wouldn't be the last either. If there was trouble waiting for her, was she near enough to her cell phone to be able to call someone for help? If not, then was there something close enough to a weapon within reach that she could use to defend herself? The spiel of questions got old long ago. She'd been so sure those days were behind her.
All it took was the slightest opening of her eyes for it all to come rushing back at her. She'd become far too intimately acquainted with the base of the sink in Fran's apartment bathroom for comfort, there was no mistaking where she was now. Dean was gone, she'd acted the fool and got herself ridiculously drunk. It had taken two people to babysit her through the hangover and now… Now, what? She wasn't really all that sure.
There were small details of the past day or so that were painfully acute in her mind. The tiniest twitch that had been triggered by the Impala as it roared to life and put a finality to Dean's decision in ways she hadn't expected. An itty bitty twitch but it might as well have been a full body flinch; Bobby noticed it all the same though he hadn't said a word.
The slow burn of the tears she'd somehow managed to keep carefully in check like acid sliding down the back of her throat working its way straight to her soul the entire ride back. Later there had been the similar, more effective burn of the alcohol as it coursed its way past those unshed tears right through her system. Then the disappointment that set in when that moment of numbness she'd been craving never came.
Oh God, she never wanted to think about that crawl of shame again. She'd be carrying the little bruises on her hands and knees from every imperfection on that barroom floor and all over those back stairs to the apartment for a while. Souvenirs of her stupidity. Fantastic!
There had been a sense of overwhelming relief when big familiar hands had turned her over and lifted her off the back steps. Until that moment she'd been convinced that she was going to fall and the ground would swallow her up whole. Cal would have to talk to Sam later about not mentioning any snuggling in she might have done out of reflex. He'd understand… wouldn't he? Sure. Of course he would, and if he didn't then she could always threaten to kill him, right? Not that Cal had it in her or that he'd believe it, but she could try.
So here she was, feeling nasty and tired and achy all over. Oddly she didn't hate the hurt like she normally would. It wasn't the awful 'oh my god I want to kill myself I'm so sick' feeling that had stuck with her for she didn't even know how long. Rather, it was the soreness of a body starting to heal. Her stomach was gurgling not out of nausea but out of hunger. Now that was a welcome change. Food. Yeah, she could go for some of that. First she'd have to clean herself up some.
The bar below was quiet which probably meant it was early morning. There was no clinking of glassware being put away or plates noisily unloaded from the dishwasher so it was a pretty safe assumption that the restaurant wasn't open for breakfast yet. This was just as well as Cal wasn't really keen on having Fran's day staff hear her moaning and stumbling her way around cleaning herself up.
Her bag was still packed and in the back of her Mustang so at least there was the option of a quick getaway before Fran or Sam could lay eyes on her. The poltergeist at Disneyland wasn't going to get rid of itself and she sure could use a distraction.
Maybe she'd get lucky and the Tim Horton's would be open by the time she rolled her way out of town. Right. With her luck the only thing available would be that 24hr McDonald's and her first real meal in days would end up being an Egg McMuffin, a greasy hashbrown and a watered down, burnt coffee.
So there it was then, the answer to that nagging 'What now'? Now she would run as far and fast as she could, hopefully leaving the damage Dean wrought behind. It's what she was good at and when she was lucky it worked really well.
Anyone who knew Cal knew that she wasn't a girl to be messed with, but here's the thing: Fran was made of the same stuff and she wasn't one to take no for an answer. Cal could try to back out of her commitment to help Dean, but there wasn't a chance in hell that she'd be able to worm her way out of helping Sam. Fran just wouldn't let her.
There had been one too many 'drinks all around on me' called out at the bar that left Fran swamped with orders. Too many times Cal had snuck out the back not to be heard from until the girl found her way back into town again. Fran wasn't foolish enough to believe she wouldn't do it again.
Imagine Cal's surprise when she stepped out of the bathroom in nothing but a towel to find a brown paper McDonald's bag and a Styrofoam cup filled with watered down burnt coffee waiting for her on the coffee table. "Yummy" Yes, that was definitely sarcasm dripping from that one word like grease off a hashbrown. Looks like your run of (not so good) luck isn't quite over yet.
Now the million dollar question was: who was it that brought her this little surprise? Not Dean, surely. Too risky. The FBI had been watching the bar since the morning of the breakout. Also, given how he'd left her at Bobby's he wouldn't want to risk loosing any important body parts visiting Cal so soon. Who else then? "Sam?" Had to be. He wouldn't want to risk her running off.
"Get some clothes on girl, we've got some words to have between us before you take off for parts unknown." Fran. Great. Well this was going to be fun. Maybe she could hide out in the bedroom, pretend to be asleep again and then sneak out throught the… "And don't you even think about crawling out the window again. Won't do you any good. I had one of the local boys hide your Mustang." Damn! On a good day she'd sneak out the window anyway, find her car and take off all the same. Today was not a good day, though, and she had no desire to go walking all over hell's half acre looking for something that she could get just as easily by having a few uncomfortable words with an old friend.
Well that was that. A pair of comfortable sweats and an old band shirt later she had settled her behind down on the couch across from Fran. She sipped silently at the not-quite-coffee and waited for that shoe to drop.
"Sam's worried about you." Yeah thanks Fran. You go on ahead and go right for the jugular. I didn't really need it anyway.
"Sam's worried about Dean." Because that was a little more accurate a statement. If Dean's entire future weren't on the line Sam would probably just let her work out her issues however she saw fit. Probably.
"Sam's worried about everyone." There she went nailing it on the head again. He was worried about everyone, from Dean to the kids and all those in between. That was true enough but Cal was loathe to admit it. That would mean she'd have to rethink ditching the whole 'find and help Dean' plan. "I'm worried about you." Well hell.
"Why?" It was the safest response all around. Walking, no running, out the door wasn't an option. Fran probably had her shotgun stashed somewhere next to her seat for just such an occasion. Acknowledging that Fran gave a flying rat's derriere about how she was feeling was also out. Too much guilt lay that route. Picking a fight to change the subject wouldn't work either. Not when Fran was staring her down, daring her without words to just try it and see where it gets you.
"Really? Is that how we're playing this then? We're going with ditzy ignorance eh? Nuh-uh. I don't think so. Try again." Oh wow, and now she was going to strong arm Cal into one of those sharing and caring conversations. Yeah, thanks but no thanks.
"No. I'm not trying again. There's nothing to try. There's nothing to worry about. I'm Cal freaking O'Sulivan, not some overly emotional kid who just got dumped for the first time. I'm fine." Never mind that this actually was her first real relationship and that it actually was her first time being dumped. She really was find, dammit!
"Look, hun, I hate to break it to you but you're just about the most emotional person I've ever known. Normally you keep a tight rein on your crap. I swear it takes a crowbar to get you to open up about being anything but pissed off."
Cal huffed an angry breath and stood up, already done with the conversation. Fran wasn't having any of it.
"Sit your butt back down, I am not done with you yet." And holy crap, what was with that 'mom' tone? This was something Cal wasn't used to, it had been so long since her own mother had been around. She may or may not have mumbled something that might have sounded like yeah, whatever drill Sargent mom. Fran did nothing more than level a look at her to get the silence she was looking for.
"I have known you since grade school, Cal. Not once in all these years have I ever seen you anywhere near the basket case that you've been since this whole FBI business blew up in our faces." Alright, touché. No way she could deny the chaotic way she'd been acting. It had been over the top even for her. Still, there was the matter of self respect here.
"And…?" Maggie would totally be proud of her. The attitude she'd just dished out was so sixteen year old girl it would have been funny in any other circumstance.
"Okay. You're not ready to talk about it yet and I get that. In the meantime my job is to remind you that you've made a promise to Sam." Pointed glare. Ouch. Apparently Fran was fully aware of just what Cal had been planning. Okay, no big surprise there. "You, my dear, are supposed to have my man's back on this one. I know you're not the girl who would walk out on that kind of obligation." Now it was an obligation and was that a hint of a threat hidden there in Fran's tone?
"If I didn't know any better Fran…" Cal was squared her shoulders, gathered her pride around her and got ready to give fighting Fran off with anger the good old college try. Except Fran cut her off before she built up enough steam to really get going.
"You do know better and I am definitely threatening you. Get your shit together, girl, and tow that line of yours or I'll be doing it for you." That right there? That calm, firm delivery of expectation and consequence? That was exactly what was going to make her the mom of the year. Unfortunately this did not help Cal in the least.
She took a minute to indulge in the fantasy that she could still just leave. Impossible thoughts of leaving home behind entirely, sitting behind the wheel of her pretty red car and just forgetting everything. There were the kids though. Jason would be devastated that Dean had gone, more so that he hadn't had the chance to say goodbye. Poor Maggie would probably see his disappearance as yet another rejection.
What would they do if she left too? Strangely Cal found that the answer to that question was one she didn't even want to consider. She just couldn't up and leave. Crap! She couldn't leave!
"I can't…" She started to voice it, like maybe there was some explaining to do for Fran's benefit, but the words died out before they began. Cal couldn't go, but she damned well couldn't face the farmhouse yet either. Had he anticipated never coming back? Did he pack up his stuff and take it all with him? Of course he had. This was Dean, right? The most thorough guy on the face of the planet except maybe for Sam.
"I know babe. I know. You can't go, but you can't face going back home either. Not when everywhere you look there'll be the lack of him." Psychic. Fran was psychic. She had to be to get into other people's heads the way she did.
"The last time I faced an empty drawer in that house was right after Dad died when I packed up most of his clothes to take to the Sally Ann. I…" I'm just so lost.
"So don't. Don't go back to the farm and don't stay." Sam was standing in the doorway flanked by a very worried looking couple of kids. Their sudden appearance startled Cal enough to make her jump and that was enough to get that attitude flowing again.
"Sorry guys, I couldn't hold these two off any longer. They were so worried it was the difference between my driving them over or they sneak out the window and walk." Good choice Sam. It was hard to ream a person out with a couple of kids hanging off your sides as if their lives depended on it. Instead she just shot him a what the hell? sort of look. Explain to me exactly how I'm supposed to not go home and not stay when I've made the promises I have.
"You've already got people to look after your land while you're away on a job, right? So there's no need to head back there unless it's to get to the books in the barn. This won't be the first time we've dealt with poltergeist so it's not like we'll need anything from in there before we leave."
Oh. Oh! "Sam?" Are we going to Florida? She couldn't possibly be understanding him properly. Not this soon after breaking Dean out of jail. Not with the kids just settling in to their new lives. No, she had to be getting this wrong. What else could he possibly mean then?
"Do you really think Sam and I are that ignorant Cal? You're a runner and Dean's so protective that he'd do anything to keep the people he loves safe." That right there was why Cal didn't like to let people in. You let folks in close enough to really get to know you they get to be able to predict the things you'll do. "When the kids first came home with us we talked to them about how you, Dean and Sam travel a lot for work. They get it, and I can handle them just fine." One statement tantamount to Fran's blessing.
"Oh my God. I think she's speechless." Sam said it to make the kids laugh but he was right. Maybe it was just that she was still a little addle brained from the hangover but they had truly managed to surprise her.
Jason had moved past being happy to see Cal up and moving again and had noticed the McDonald's on the table. "Is that for us?" He asked hopefully, testing out the patently Sam kicked puppy look he'd been perfecting (with Dean's help, of course).
"You do realize I'm going to kill your brother for teaching him how to do that, right?" Fran was clearly not impressed, but it got Cal laughing if even just a little. "Go for it you little monkey." Cal's nod of approval enough to have both kids diving for the bag.
"How's the war wound Sam?" In her bout of self loathing she'd completely forgotten the gunshot he took to the shoulder, two? Three days before? "It's got to be itching and pulling by now. You sure you don't want to wait a while before hitting the road again? I can do this on my own y'know." Now that she was capable of thinking about it, brushing out her hair like he had the day before had to have been just as painful for him as it had been for her.
"What this?" This tiny little insignificant hole in my shoulder? Yeah smooth Sam. "I've had worse Cal, and I've lived my life in the passenger seat of a car. Driving to Florida won't be that big a deal." Well hell, when he put it that way it sort of sounded like she was babying him. There went what little edge she had left.
"Ok then. In that case I guess I'd better be asking for my keys. Oh, and fair warning. We are stopping off and getting some real breakfast before we get going." She'd need the time to figure out how in the hell to get them back into the states without going through a border crossing. This is where contact with Dean would've been good. Would have been nice to find out how he'd managed it, being one of America's Most Wanted and all.
Pulling a face he gave her the 'yes ma'am' salute. Cal would've given him the finger but there were kids in the room, no matter how teenaged one of them was. Besides, copping attitude wasn't exactly conducive to getting her car back.
"Oh, they're downstairs in the stein on the bar where I keep the rest of 'em. Car's still out front where you left it. I swear girl, you're loosing your edge if you're as easy to fool as the local boys are."
Did you just hear that whooshing sound? That was Cal's tough girl image flying right out the window. Alright Catie, my girl. Looks like you've got to figure yourself out all over again, eh? One thing was for damned sure, whatever came of this wild Dean chase it was going to be an adventure. Where there's adventure, there's challenge and there's just nothing Cal loved more than one of those.
