Chapter Nineteen
I Run to You
Dean drove into the parking lot like a bat out of hell, screeching to a halt right in front of the rust red Corsica and boxing it in. There was no freakin' way Malcolm was going to just drive off, if that's what he'd had in mind. The guy had a thing or two coming to him and Dean was damned well going to be the one dishing them out.
He could see Cal sitting awkwardly in the passenger seat, strap still secured over her shoulder. From where he sat it was clear she was pale and gaunt, covered in bruises and breathing heavily. The shoulder not covered in a seat belt was at a weird angle and sunuva...! Dean knew why. That was a dislocated shoulder if he'd ever seen one.
Malcolm was just opening the driver's side door and for all intents and purposes the guy was fine. Not a bump, a bruise, a cut… nothing. He hadn't been touched. The impossible contrast between the two set Dean off. He was out of the car and rushing at Malcolm, swinging his fists and connecting with a perfect cheek bone. Malcolm's head snapped back and Dean shoved at his chest so he fell back onto the uneven pavement. He'd have started kicking with the steel toe boots he was wearing if it wasn't for the moan that came from the other side of the Corsica. Cal. Looking broken in ways he'd never seen in her before.
Dean was unbuckling her belt as carefully as possible. It still hurt enough to have tears swimming around in her big blue eyes. She was a trooper but she couldn't hold it in and it was pushing all kinds of buttons. "Hey, sweetheart. It's okay. Let's get you out of here, huh?" He wouldn't be able to put that shoulder back into place until they'd iced it. Hard to say how long would be long enough to bring down some of the swelling. "I've got something cold for that shoulder in the trunk. Something for the pain too." He didn't bother trying to maneuver her out of the car so she could walk, he'd already made up his mind to lift her out. The pitiful whine she couldn't repress as he slid an arm behind her back broke his heart but he lifted her all the same. When he cradled her in against his chest and she gripped his neck with her good arm like she was afraid someone would try to rip her away from him; Dean knew he was going to kill whoever had touched her. The jury was still out on whether Malcolm was one of those people.
"She's going to be okay, Dean. You know that right?" Malcolm was using his best, most reasonable tone to bring Dean back down to earth for a minute. Unfortunately it had the opposite effect. "What kind of an idiot do you have to be to just leave a shoulder out of its socket like this, anyway?" Dean spat out, making sure to let Malcolm know just how negligent he'd been. as he set Cal down with her legs hanging out of his car. There was something in the way Cal tried to hide an uncomfortable grunt as he set her down with her legs hanging out the side of his car that made Dean take a closer look. If anyone knew how important it was to take proper stock of her injuries, it was him.
"What happened to your knees, Cal?" They were all scraped up and gritty. Oh God, and that ankle. It was a miracle there was any circulation going on there at all. Her foot was so swollen that her sock had split at the toe and heel seams. "Hang on, let me just…" Pulling his Bowie knife out from under the seat he cut the white cotton right off. There would be other socks, he wasn't going to chance the possibility that she loose a foot.
"Did you know about this? I know she's pretty good at hiding stuff when she gets it in her mind to but how could you miss something like this?" The other foot looked okay but there was no way to tell how bad the knees were until they could get them cleaned up. "Hey, I wasn't in any better shape than her when we got away alright?" No. Not alright. Not even a little alright. No matter how convincingly Malcolm tried to defend himself, Dean wasn't buying it. "Oh sure you were. You know, from where I'm standing it looks more like you let a girl fight your battles and didn't bother to step up when she got in over her head. Cal's all beaten to hell and you? You don't have a scratch. And now you want me to believe you were as busted up as she is just a few hours ago? Tell me, in my shoes what would you be thinking right about now?" Wisely Malcolm kept his answer to himself.
A minute of rummaging around in the trunk and he was strapping an ice pack to Cal's shoulder, securing it with one of his belts. Another ice pack was wrapped around her ankle, this one tied in place with one of his wool sock. Only then did Malcolm speak again. "Okay, look. I'm only taking this crap from you long enough to get Caitlin somewhere safe where she can get better. The minute she's set, though, you and I are going to have to have a talk. You got me?" Oh, that was just fantastic. He was being told by the cowardly cowboy. This would have been funny if Cal hadn't been in such terrible shape.
"Yeah, whatever. Make yourself useful and get her stuff from the other car, would ya?" They'd need a change of clothes for her sooner rather than later. "There's nothing in the car. We had to leave her Mustang and everything in it behind, and before you get all judgy why don't you wait for Cal's side of things eh?" Right. Pick your battles Dean. "So whoever these 'they' people are, 'they' have everything? Her car, her passport, her clothes, her gear, all of it?" Perfect. It just kept getting better and better, didn't it? "Unfortunately yeah. Mine too, if it's any consolation." Yeah, no. No, it really wasn't any consolation at all.
"How long can we hang around in town here before it gets dangerous?" A good question, the answer for which would be the deciding factor for where they'd be bunking down for the night. 'We've already been here too long." Right. Well, it was that kind of night after all."Okay, help me shift her around so that shoulder doesn't get too jostled while I drive. I'll prop her foot up on my leg to help the swelling go down." How far would they have to go to be able to lay low? Their usual spots would be too obvious if Cal was worried that these people who were after her were going to be going after her friends. Bobby's was out and Harvelle's too since Cal had asked him to send along the warnings earlier.
One look over at her ashen complexion and Dean just knew Cal wouldn't be traveling far. Definitely not far enough to get them in the clear. Where the hell were they going to go?
"I've got some friends in Penacook, about an hour's drive from here." Malcolm, the hero, swooping in with a place to hide just in the nick of time. "Can we trust 'em?" And wasn't that just the question of the hour? "Honestly? After what we've just been through I'm not even sure I trust you Dean. No offense. It is the best place for Cal, though. My friends are healers, so whatever she needs they're likely to have on hand." Alright then, Penacook it would be, at least for now. "For what it's worth, I'm sorry for the way things went down." And at this point, ballsy as he'd been to even try apologizing, Malcolm was just lucky that Dean was already sitting behind the wheel. Unwilling to jar Cal's foot, which was resting on his thigh Dean closed his eyes against the rage that was simmering too close to the surface instead of pounding him to a pulp. "Just. Shut. Up. Get in the back and just don't say anything. You hear me?" The idiot was going to be lucky to live through the night at the rate he was going.
Dean drove like he'd never done before during that short trip into Penacook. Fast and smooth, avoiding as many potholes and bumps on the asphalt as was humanly possible. All the while his shoulders ached from the tension of keeping his temper under control. The ice had been a good move. Halfway to Malcolm's friends place Cal was able to start moving it again. Dean stopped as soon as he noticed the way she kept shifting around restlessly, trying to adjust it back into its socket without calling too much attention to herself. She would try to do it alone. "Oh no you don't."With one hand on the less damaged part of her leg, he stilled her with a look. "You're letting me get a look at that before you make it worse."
It was a lot awkward and even more painful, shifting around all over again until Dean had her in a position that gave them enough room to work with. They were on the side of the road, Dean leaning into the passenger side to shield Cal from the cool night air and any possible prying eyes from the odd passing car. "Please, don't touch it unless you have to, okay?" A whispered plea. "I'll do my best, sweetheart." Followed by a promise he wasn't sure he could keep. Lips clamped tightly between her teeth she nodded, the tears dripping from her eyes going unacknowledged for the sake of whatever was left of her pride. "I'm going to have to cut your shirt sleeve to see what's going on under there." He wasn't asking. Another curt nod from Cal, the only go ahead he was going to get.
The skin was distorted and purple but the outline of her bone and shoulder joint were clear. "Okay, it's looking pretty good considering." Eyes closed, her grimace spoke volumes. "You're a shitty liar Dean." So much for sugar coating it, he should have known better anyway. "Okay, it looks like hell but I think it'll slide right back into joint. You want to ice it some more or do it now?" Experience begged that he ask at all. Better she have a choice. "Ugh, I'm dying here Dean! Just get it over with, would you?" This wasn't going to be pretty.
It took three tries and Malcolm's help holding her upper arm still before it finally slid home. The pain was so intense and the relief so immediate that Dean had to rush to bend her forward and out of the car so she could retch the shock of it out. When her stomach finally stopped heaving Dean gently folded her arm across her chest, pulling her other hand around to hold it in place. "Can you keep that still, Cal? I need a minute to get something to sling that up with." She barely moved but Malcolm nodded at him. "I've got this." He assured them, not that Dean believed it but there wasn't much choice at the moment.
Her sling was made of one of Dean's old t-shirts that he tore and knotted himself. He covered her in one of his plaid shirts to keep her warm and comfortable. She spent the rest of the ride sipping at bottled water and watching Dean as he drove from under hooded lids. If she hadn't been so broken and he so worried it might have been a pleasant drive. As it was, neither dared speak for fear of breaking the momentary reprieve.
Cal cried a lot that night and Dean, well, Dean was amazing. There was a bath ready for her when they arrived and she locked herself in the bathroom to take it. Twenty minutes later she called out for Dean. He found her sitting on the edge of the toilet lid, crouched inward with tears streaming down her face. "I…" but she didn't need to explain that she needed help. There wasn't any need for even a cursory "What do you need?" from Dean.
"You realize it's a whole lot easier to do this for you than it ever was for Sam, right?" He joked as they got her bathed and dressed in a pair of his old boxers and another of his t-shirts. "I'm also a whole lot smaller than he is, so don't be too impressed eh?" Maybe she was bouncing back after all, even though the banter was tired and flat. It was a good sign that she was even trying, considering how quiet she'd been. Still, Dean wouldn't let her out of his sight for fear she'd trip or fall or hurt herself again without meaning to. Not a moment went by that he wasn't doting on her and she just let him. From lathering the cooling salve on her knees and elbows, to tying up a proper sling with a retrofitted bed sheet their Malcolm's friend offered up for the purpose. He kept waiting for her to fight him off or snark at him but it never came. There wasn't even much conversation about where they'd be staying the night. Probably because Cal already knew where she wanted to be.
"We can't stay here tonight Dean. They'll be looking for us." She wasn't going to feel safe unless they were out in the car, driving. Never mind that the Impala was pretty easily recognizable. Cal wanted to be moving and she wasn't going to rest until she was sure they were doing just that. "I'm not moving you tonight. You need a bed. You need some food. You need to rest. Sitting shotgun or even lying in the backseat with your foot up, isn't going to do you any good Cal. You know that." He tried to reason with her, tried to hide his exasperation; the last thing he wanted to do was upset her. She'd been through enough already and he knew how fragile she could get when she was hurt and feeling helpless. But Cal wouldn't let it go.
"You don't have to carry me if that's what the problem is. I can walk or Malcolm can help me out to the car." Right, because that was the problem here. Why'd she have to throw in that bit about Malcolm, anyway? The guy was definitely not his favorite person just then. "I'll take the backseat. We could use a couple of pillows to cushion my shoulder and prop up my ankle. We can do this." If she saw his skeptical look she let it slide, drifting off into her own head for a minute. The way her eyes went all soft and pleading while she was staring into space worried him. Fear tightened the lines around her mouth, turning the soft edges where lips met dimples downward into a frown. When she came back to them, her stubbornness came back too. "We are doing this Dean. I don't care if I have to drive the damned car myself." Okay. She-Ra had spoken. They were hitting the road.
"At least have a bite to eat first. You look like you haven't eaten in days." He couldn't have known how right he was or how desperate the situation had been. "We'll grab something at drive through. I need to get out of here Dean. Please?" Malcolm was doing the strong, silent type thing in the corner. He didn't bother weighing in on either side but once Cal had made up her mind he was all about helping to make it happen. "I'll take some pillows and a blanket out to your car if you can manage her?" Why the hell were they keeping this guy around anyway? Good question. Maybe he ought to ask Cal that.
"Yeah. Okay. We'll be out in a minute." A minute alone with Cal out of earshot was just what the doctor ordered. There were questions that needed answering, things that needed to be said. So they sat on the couch, inches away from each other, watching Malcolm and their hosts gather things up. Dean didn't look her way until they were alone together and when he did he was unreadable.
"Why is this guy even coming with us?" Eyes boring into hers, demanding to know exactly what was going on in that complex mind of hers. Before he went any further with any of this Dean needed to know that Cal not only wanted Malcolm along but that she trusted him. There was no room for doubt. Dean sure wasn't going to trust the guy, but he'd tolerate him if Cal felt she needed him around.
Her expression had become shuttered. She was internalizing, choosing to hide behind all those walls that had gone back up that day he'd left her. They'd only been insulated by whatever the hell it was that had happened to her over the last five days. "They're after him too, Dean." Her vague answer was devoid of any sound reasoning and it left him wanting to push for details. "So, why doesn't he hole up with Bobby? We could head up across the border and man the fort with Sam. Or we could fall off the grid completely. I could park my car somewhere and we could just disappear until you've healed up." It said an awful lot that he bothered to even suggest running and hiding. If his willingness to park the Impala didn't get her attention, nothing would.
"I'm not positive they'll go after Bobby, or anyone, until they're sure we can't be found. They're careful and they don't like calling attention to themselves or I'd have known they exist before now." There it was again, the 'they' that as of yet remained undefined. "If we show up at Bobby's, at Fran's, at the farm or even Harvelle's they'll move in hard and fast and they won't care who gets hurt. If we stay away we buy some time." There was a calm to her voice that belied the fidgeting of her good hand. "Maybe." Dean reminded her grimly. "Hopefully." God, she sounded like she needed the hope. "Fine. I'll go along with it for now." The last thing he wanted was to step into a fight when Cal was vulnerable. For that reason, and that reason alone, he went along with it. But there was something he wouldn't budge on. "One last thing, and this is non-negotiable. I need to know who these 'they' people are."
That one question was enough to shut her down completely. It was too soon, she couldn't even acknowledge the link between the people she was afraid of and her father. "I… I can't Dean. I just, I can't." There was something about the way she said it that was just so completely broken that he knew he had to let it go, at least for the time being. Maybe he could get something out of Malcolm while Cal slept. As if conjured by mere thought, the massive man appeared in the doorway. "Everything okay in here?" He was taking in Cal's renewed pallor with a calculated interest, as if weighing what could have happened in the minutes he'd been out of earshot. "Yeah. I'm ready to go." Cal raised her arms to Malcolm, making it clear that if anyone was helping her it was going to be him.
Well, hell. Dean didn't need any more of a clue than that, did he?
