Chapter Eleven

Back to Old Habits, O'Sulivan style.

Well, at least there was proof that Dean was still using his head. The 'protect the innocent' part of it anyway, even if the survival instinct had gone a little awry. He'd taken a minute to e-mail both Bobby and Sam with the details of the hunt he'd skipped out on asking them to take over where he'd left off. It was very John Winchester of him.

So now Sam and the other John were pouring over the research doing their damnedest to keep Cal in the dark about the whole thing. Medicating her when they could and doing the work when they thought she was sleeping. Their very male way of reasoning this out? Maybe if they kept her out of the loop she'd rest up and get better. This was definitely not Cal's way of doing things. They might as well have issued a full on challenge. Now she had to sneak around and throw herself into the hunt, if only to prove her prowess to the guys. It had been awhile since she'd felt the need to assert herself but there you had it.

So when the boys announced that they were heading out to pick up some take out for supper Cal made her move. Two minutes with Sam's computer told her where the body was buried. Given that it was the middle of the night she figured clothing wasn't really a big deal. The pajamas she had on would do just as well as anything else she could have put on. Who knew how long the guys would take? For all she knew they'd be back again any time now. Cal had to move, and she had to do it now.

It wasn't easy. Her ribs protested every step she took as vocally as they could, but she did manage to get her shoes on and out to the parking lot. Unfortunately Sam had thought ahead and took her car, the one they'd been doing all of their travelling in of late. That left the beat up old pick up with the weathered cab that John Wayne lived in. Okay. So it would handle a little differently on the road. Not a big deal. She just needed to get to the gravesite and back. Five minutes either way. Maybe another thirty to dig up the grave… Oh crap. She'd forgotten about the grave digging. That was going to hurt.

Chancing a glace through the grimy window into the bed of the truck she hoped to find what she'd need to get it done. Sure enough, the first thing on top of the pile of stuff back there was a shovel. It was caked over with dirt and dried mud, but that was no surprise considering what it was primarily used for.

Not as nimble as usual, breaking into the truck was a little harder than she'd expected too. Still, a girl had to motor on right? Likewise the hotwiring. By the time Cal got the damned thing started and took to the road she was tired enough to want to just crawl back into bed and forget the whole thing. Still there was no doubt in her mind that she'd be able to get the job done.

The cemetery had this 'Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil' feel to it. Maybe it was the painkillers, maybe it was the fatigue and the dark, but she did not like the feeling of being watched. Like there were things lurking in the bushes just out of sight, waiting for their chance to have a go at her. Sooner you get it done, sooner you can get back to the motel and some shut eye. In the spirit of that last particular thought, Cal figured it would be okay to borrow the hydraulic excavating machine from the utility shed onsite. Save herself a little pain and effort. Save some time. Less chance of getting caught out by the guys.

While digging through the rubble that John Wayne called his earthly possessions Cal came to one conclusion about the guy. He was a slob. The bag of rock salt had been left open, half its contents spilled out and coating the base of the truck bed. The lighter fluid was nowhere to be found. Matches and disposable lighters were strewn haphazardly among books and tools. There was even a bag of dirty laundry that looked about thirty seconds away from growing itself a set of legs and walking over to the nearest Laundromat.

Alright then, a couple of Bic lighters, what's left of the bag of salt and maybe the shovel to break open the casket. Good to go, right? Trekking ahead she didn't even stop to consider why it was she still felt as if something was missing. Not until a few minutes later, anyway, when the metal bucket scraped at the veneered lid of the casket and the ghost decided to make an appearance.

Reaching behind her for the pistol she normally kept in a holster at the small of her back she grappled at bare skin. No need for a gun when you're in your pj's, right? Wrong. And now she was toast. Meanwhile, the dreadlocked Queen of the Night in all her gory, transparent glory was bearing down on Cal intent on doing some damage. "Ugh, girl, you are such an idiot!" Somebody had to chastise her for this. No one else was around to do it. And whose fault is that, eh? Yeah. Hers.

With nothing left to do but hold on to the crawler for dear life, Cal waited for the ghost to get tired of tossing it around like a toddler with a hot wheels car. She'd been wedged upside down, excavator and all, into the freshly dug-up grave when the first shot rang in her ears.

"Cal!" Sam's voice, hoarse and breathless, over the shrieking of the spirit. "You okay under there?" And she would have liked to have answered him with a yes. She'd have liked to have been given the chance to say anything at all. But the ghost wasn't ready to give up her toy yet. Before Cal could truly understand what was happening, the whole kit and caboodle was soaring through the air sideways. Cal still strapped into the machine. The ghost had apparently decided that the best way to dispose of the new arrival was by chucking its favorite toy at him.

Sam dropped to the ground and rolled away just in time to avoid the brunt of the impact. Another shot tore through the night and this time hit home. The apparition dissipated just long enough for John Wayne to grab up the bag of rock salt and the lighters Cal had dropped in the struggle to stay in the excavator.

Winded, Cal could only watch from the mangled wreck as the dark shape above the open grave came alive in the light of the tiny flame. The light caught the brim of the unorthodox cowboy hat and flared as it hit its target. Not a moment too soon either because the wailing, crazy spirit had reappeared above Cal, reaching out to end her life before the flames sent it to the final hereafter.

Sam crawled over to her on all fours, because it was the only way to reach through the twisted metal and touch her. His fingers latched on to the first pulse point they could reach, just to reassure himself she wasn't dead. "Um, yeah. You could have just asked. I mean, I'm right here looking you in the eye, right?" She was annoyed, but it was more at herself than Sam. "After all that? You're damned lucky you are." She couldn't blame the guy for being angry but she didn't have to like it either.

It took a minute to unfold her from the mess. "Shit, kid, what's not black and blue is white as that ghost was. You gonna live?" The cowboy asked her, a hint of a smile teasing at the corner of his lips. "She'd better, or I'll kill her myself." Sam ground out, taking it upon himself to scoop her up into his arms and haul her back to the car. If you asked her, he was overreacting a bit. She hadn't died or anything. The job was done. Everything had worked out for them in the end. He didn't have to get all upset with her about it.

"My ribs aren't thanking me or anything but there aren't any new injuries save some bruises, so we're good." Despite the reassurance Sam insisted on taking her back to the hospital. "Don't need you collapsing a lung because you're too stubborn to mention that you've cracked a rib rather than just bruising 'em." Later they'd talk about it and Cal would confide in him that it had been the painkillers that had taken away her ability to reason things through. She'd really just wanted to get the job behind them, the sooner to get back on Dean's ass. . "Finding Dean was not worth watching you nearly die, Cal." Yeah, he had a point. But hey, what doesn't kill you, makes you stronger right? Not surprisingly, Sam did not agree.

It scared her to realize, let alone admit to Sam, that finding Winchester was quickly becoming her motivation to get up in the morning. More so that a little pill, prescribed by a doctor, was enough to take away all of her common sense. She didn't touch them again after that. Unfortunately for everyone, the events of that evening were only the beginning of a disturbing trend in Cal's behavior.

"You got to watch that one, Sam." The John Wayne was constantly saying. "Apple doesn't fall far from the tree and this one turned out a little more like the tree than anyone expected." The guy got a real kick out of the way she always seemed to have something to prove. Sam was always the first to come to her defense. She's come a long way in the past year, he'd say. But all that ever got was a throaty chuckle and some teasing. Was there some truth in what the cowboy said about her? Yes, absolutely. Cal was her father's daughter. Did she deserve to be poked at incessantly about it? She thought not. Then again, maybe it was a karma thing. "Honestly? I think it might just be my brother. He tends to bring out the best and the worst in her." Cal had to admit, Sam was bang on there. She just had to figure out what to do about it.

Not that there was a whole lot of time to do that anymore. John Wayne had better contacts than Bobby, Cal and the Winchesters put together. They were getting leads on Dean every other day and even then they somehow always were a step behind, just barely missing him at every stop. The bugger couldn't have been any smarter about it either. "It's like trailing my dad all over again." Sam's current refrain. Every place Dean was rumored to be held a hunt or another set of dead end leads to follow. Frankly, it was frustrating. Cal was starting to see how the brothers had developed that edge about them. She'd be sporting a 'put up or shut up' vibe too, if this was what her family put her through. Not that she had family to put up with anymore, but you know.

A couple of weeks into their joint effort with John Wayne started they were in Casper, Wyoming hunting Casper himself. Middle of the day their cell phones went insane. First it was Sam's ringtone that woke them up. Whoever it was called twice, three rings, and hung up before Sam was able to pick it up. Cal's went off but she just ignored it as much as she could. To do anything else would have ended in death to the caller or the phone's unfortunate demise. Then, just as everyone thought they'd actually manage to get back to sleep, it was Snakeskin Cowboy's phone to the tune of twangy country music, coming from the adjacent room.

To faux-Duke's credit, it didn't ring long enough to annoy anyone and he managed to pick it up in time to catch the caller before they hung up. The baritone of his voice could be heard right through the wall although his words were indistinguishable. John Wayne hadn't even hung up yet, he was pounding on the door separating their rooms. "Rise and shine kids! We got 'im."

Sam was out of bed and through the door so fast Cal could swear there was smoke rising up off the carpet where his feet had (barely) touched down. "Dean?" "Harvelle's." The guys were speaking in single words, this apparently being more important than to waste time on unnecessary vocabulary. "When?" "Now." Sam closed the door and stared at Cal. "So, your brother's visiting with Ellen and Jo?" "Yeah." "You think he'll still be there later?" Sam shrugged. Who knew, right?

"When I spoke to Jo she said he'd just settled in at the back of the bar. He's waiting to talk to Ash. I told them to stall. He'll be drinking himself stupid 'till we get there." Cal had a newfound respect for the Snakeskin Cowboy. Dude had superpowers to be able to follow their conversation through the wall. "You guys got ten minutes to shit, shower and shave then we hit the road." And that was it. Walking orders had been given. They were going to Harvelle's.

Damned if Cal was going to wait around for these guys to get their poop in a group so they could leave. As the water came on for the shower she grabbed a pen and a piece of paper, scribbling a couple of quick words before heading out the door with her bag in hand. They wanted to dawdle over showers like a couple of girls, they'd have to ride together to get to the Roadhouse.


The Roadhouse was bustling with people when Dean walked in. It was never busy enough for Ellen to miss someone familiar walk through the door, though. Jo was waiting for him with a cold one next to one of the back booths.

"Hey Dean, Ash said to tell you he'd be out in a few."

Dean didn't feel much like talking so he thanked her with a quick nod and sat down. Tonight was definitely one of 'those' nights. The kind where alcohol was needed to dull the ache of missing all the good things he'd given up.

Hours passed while Dean drank as if the beer was water and he a parched man stranded in the desert. Ellen kept sending Jo over with more, as if she knew where his thoughts were taking him. Hell, she'd lost Bill all those years ago so maybe she did get it. Cal was still alive and well but she was as gone to him as Ellen's husband was to her. She looked worried. Cdering the way he'd gone to ground over the past year it was better to just provide Dean with what he wanted than to say anything and have to watch him leave.

Must've been halfway to midnight, somewhere near dinner, when it happened. This chill down his spine that told him someone very familiar had just walked into the bar. He figured Ash had finally decided to grace the place with his M.I.T. trained genius butt. He'd figured wrong.

A quick glance over his shoulder burned the image of a pretty brunette in tall black boots and a jean jacket into his brain. Shit. Since when did Cal even know about the Roadhouse?

Ash did come out of hiding then. Met her at the bar and bought her a drink, smiling at her like they were old friends or something. Maybe they were. Dean didn't know. What he did know was that he wanted to rip Dr. BadAss a new one as the guy leaned in close and whispered something in Cal's ear.

God it felt good to see her smile! He didn't need the reminder of how much he really missed the twinkle of mischief in her eye or the way she automatically became the center of everyone's attention when she walked into a room. He didn't know what hurt more: knowing he couldn't go over there and pick up where they'd left off or that she didn't even look his way.

He had to leave. She couldn't know he was there. If the Feds caught up with him then Cal would be considered an accessory just for being there. Damn. But it felt good just to watch her from across the crowded room. Just a few minutes more. Long enough to finish this last beer… If he was lucky Ellen, Jo and Ash would keep their mouths shut and she'd never even know how close he was.

Luck flew out the window a half hour later as he was discreetly settling his tab with Jo. The Roadhouse doors swung open again and Sam strode in looking like one of the four horsemen of the apocalypse.

"Jesus Christ Cal! Like you couldn't wait ten freaking minutes for me to shower and change?" Holy crap, he hadn't seen Sam that annoyed in ages. His brother was all shaggy hair and dark angry glares.

"Oh relax Sammy. I left you a note, didn't I?" Same old Cal too, she kind of had that effect on people and as usual was completely unfazed by Sam's obvious anger.

"Yeah, this time." Oho! Wow, if looks could kill Cal would qualify for something they'd hunt.

"Jeeze, a girl runs out for coffee one time without leaving a note and she never hears the end of it." He couldn't help a soft chuckle at that one, having been on the opposite end of similar arguments countless times himself.

"Yeah, except it wasn't for a damned coffee run was it? You snuck out to dig up a grave with bruised ribs and it nearly got you killed. If I hadn't…" Apparently Sam hadn't learned anything from Dean's own experiences. He actually looked shocked when Cal lifted a hand to stop him before cutting him off mid-sentence.

"But you did and I'm perfectly fineso drop it." Her tone was final as she handed him a beer in the obvious hope that he'd start drinking it and shut his mouth.

Surprisingly? It actually worked. Sam downed half of it in one go, took a deep breath and turned his attention back to Cal again.

"For the record? 'I got bored' is not enough information considering who it was that left the note in the first place, alright SheRa?"

"Meh, so next time I'll add in where I'm going." The woman was completely nonchalant about it.

"Damn right you will." Sam growled, though he couldn't help but smile as Cal beamed brightly at him.

"You know you love me ya big sasquatch." Smile turning into an all out grin as he scowled petulantly at her.

"Yeah right, in all your stubborn, annoying-as-hell glory." Mumbled through another sip of his beer, sounding every bit the pissed off brother.

This wasn't a new argument. Ellen and Ash cracked up while they watched it happen. Apparently the two had been to the Roadhouse together before and had gone through the motions enough for it to be considered an inside joke.

Dean couldn't take it anymore. Time to get out while they were all too distracted to notice him there. Wouldn't be the first time he'd snuck out the back door, probably wouldn't be the last either.

He drove through two states that night to put some distance between him and the past. Questions ran rampant through his mind the entire ride. Disturbing ones like what the hell Sammy was doing using his pet name for Cal and why he was at the Roadhouse instead of up north with Fran, Maggie and Jason. Of course, if Dean had stuck around a minute longer to hear the rest of the conversation he would have known better. But he wouldn't find that out until much later.

Meanwhile, seven or eight car lengths behind the Impala there was a beat up old pickup truck following carefully wherever Dean went. The driver hiked the brim of his cowboy hat up just enough to slide his cell phone over his ear before hitting the speed dial.

"Hey Cal. We're on I-80 headed east. Not sure where he's headed but I'll keep you posted. Pretty sure he's just trying to put some distance behind 'im. Guy's driving like the devil himself is giving chase." John Wayne had been waiting outside in his truck for Dean to leave. Cal and Sam were the distraction. They'd played their part well. Now it was up to the Duke to find out where the other Winchester brother was going.