A/N: Happy Mother's Day everyone! Okay, so here we go, a new chapter at last. This one is a LOT quieter than the last one. Hopefully It's not boring though... I'm slowly aiming to wrap this story up..but the ride's not over yet, folks. As always, I want to give my love and appreciation to LovinJackson and Deb for putting up with my constant doubts over whether this chapter was any good or not. And thanks to everyone who reviews! You have no idea how very much you make me smile with your reviews!!
Also, I have a new Dean/Skye vid up at my Youtube page. It's also at my FileFront page if anyone wants to download it. Links are on my Bio page.
Enjoy!! Leave some love so I know people are still reading this...
It won't rain all the time.
The sky won't fall forever.
And though the night seems long,
your tears won't fall forever - Jane Siberry
xxxxXXXXxxxx
Over the years, Bobby had buried a lot of people. Burned a whole lot more. It never got any easier. If it wasn't the smell? It was the faces that stayed with you. People you couldn't save, evil sons of bitches you hoped would never haunt your dreams…..friends and family that would always haunt them.
After the conversation with Gordon, Bobby had paced the room, trying to think of what he could do, how he could help John and find Dean and Skye before it was too late. But there was nothing he could do. Running around like a damn idiot with no real idea of where to look wasn't going to do a damn bit of good and besides that, Bobby couldn't leave Missouri and Elise alone. Not with Sam barely conscious.
So Bobby did the only he could do. He set to the task of painstakingly preparing Jo to be taken back to her mother. The girl was laid out on the bed, a sheet beneath her that Bobby was now wrapping around her body. It would be the easiest way for him to transport her back to Ellen so they could give the girl a decent funeral.
Smoothing the sheet around and making sure it was wrapped tight, taking great care as he worked, Bobby no longer saw Jo's young face, but that of his wife. It was almost a lifetime ago…or at least it seemed so, that Bobby had killed Elizabeth. It was something he would never recover from, leading him to remain single and alone to save himself any more heart ache.
Bobby didn't want to be the bearer of that sort of heartache for Ellen, but the task had fallen to him, so he would shoulder it with quiet dignity and take the girl home to her mother. So many people had been lost since the world fell apart and it was far from over. Sure the Winchesters had stopped the Yellow Eyed Demon's plans, but so many demons had escaped to join the already vast number of possessed souls in the world. That was going to take a long time to undo, especially with the small number of hunters they had left. But it wasn't like they had a choice….the world would come back from the brink, given time to heal.
Dragging a tired hand over his face, Bobby realised his cheeks were wet. He was getting soft in his old age, shedding tears for people well beyond his help now. Walking to the door, Bobby stepped outside, needing to take in some fresh air and noting that sunset was only an hour or so away. The air was still and quiet, reminding Bobby that the town was deserted.
A muffled explosion filled the air, Bobby watching a large cloud of smoke rise up over the other side of town.
Several doors down, Missouri rushed outside and took in the sight, throwing Bobby a frightened glance.
"Get back inside, lock the door and salt all the entrances, Missouri." Bobby was already on the move, heading to the Impala and pulling out the wires under the dashboard to hotwire the car. Dean could bitch about it to him later….as long as they got the boy back. With a roar of the engine and a spray of gravel, Bobby backed out of the parking lot and headed towards the rising column of smoke he could see. He hoped like hell that he wasn't too late….
xxxxXXXXxxxx
"They're all over me! Get them off!! Dean! Dean, get them off me!! Please!!" Sam slapped and clawed at himself frantically, water slopping all over the small bathroom. Elise was drenched, fighting to grab hold of his hands before he hurt himself.
Sam lashed out wildly, trying to launch himself out of the bath, desperate to get away from the mass of black, squirming bodies that were crawling all over him.
"Sam! Stop it! There's nothing there!" Elise begged, taking a backhand to the face that knocked her back across the room. Elise hit the wall and slid down, dazed by the blow and tasting blood in her mouth. One moment Sam had been lying asleep, his hand still holding Elise's as he soaked in the cold bath, his skin still flushed and radiating heat despite the ice around him. The next he had exploded in an all out panic attack that Elise couldn't understand or seem to calm down.
Missouri appeared in the doorway , rushing to Sam and trying to push him back into the bath again. "No, Sam! You gotta stay in here, hun…"
"Get them off me! Please…." Sam begged, his pupils still wide, his eyes unfocused as he scratched and clawed at himself.
Elise stumbled to her feet and went to Missouri's aid, grabbing one of Sam's hands and pinning it against her to hold him down as she slid to her knees beside the bath. "Sam, stop it. Please, mate…" She looked up at Missouri. "What the bloody hell is he seeing?"
Missouri closed her eyes for a moment and opened her mind to Sam, sensing that the boy had no defences up at all in his state. The images assaulted her, fear and outright panic filling her as she witnessed what had Sam so traumatised…
It had seemed like the perfect hiding place at the time. Sam had been unsure at first about playing hide and seek in Uncle Bobby's yard. There were so many cars and wrecks that it was daunting for the six year old at first. But Dean had started to call him a girl and a baby, making Sam agree to the stupid game after all.
Uncle Bobby had warned them about climbing insides the wrecks and the dangers of tetanus, making sure Dean understood that it meant a "big ass needle" as Uncle Bobby had put it.
So Sam had steered away from the cars and chosen to climb up over the woodpile beside the house. If he could get high enough, Dean would never see him. But all it had taken, was for one dislodged log of wood to fall, taking Sam down with it and opening up a world of nightmares for the little boy.
As he hit the ground, almost knocking the wind out of himself, Sam felt something run over his face. He tried to brush it away, and felt something else run over the back of his hand. Sitting up, Sam opened his eyes and began screaming as he realised he was covered in dozens of baby huntsman spiders. "They're all over me! Get them off!! Dean! Dean, get them off me!! Please!!"
Slapping and swatting at them, Sam was still screaming when Dean ran around the side of the house and picked his brother up, barely even stumbling as he carried Sam towards the coil of old garden hose that Bobby kept out front for filling up the dogs water bowls.
Dumping his brother on the ground, Dean ran to the hose and turned the water on as hard as he could, aiming the spray towards Sam. " Get your shirt and jeans off, Sammy! Throw them on the ground!"
The water was so cold that Sam was chattering with cold after a couple of minutes of being stripped down to his underwear. He kept swatting and stamping at the spiders, combing his fingers through his hair frantically, sure he could still feel spiders climbing all over him.
Dean dropped the hose and ran to his brother, stomping every spider he could see, snarling as each one went crunch under his boots until they were all washed away or dead. Then Dean grabbed hold of his brother and hugged him close. " I'm sorry, Sammy, I'm sorry. It's okay now. They're gone. They can't hurt you anymore."
Missouri gently pulled away from Sam's mind with tears in her eyes. "Spiders…he's reliving a piece of his past.."
Elise let go of Sam's arm, taking another hit in the process before Missouri caught hold of him and held Sam down. Stepping around the psychic, Elise cupped her hands to Sam's face and forced him to look at her. "Sam, listen to me. The spiders are gone. You hear me? There are no spiders…now snap out of it, mate, cause your scaring the shit out of me."
Sam blinked, confusion slowly melting away to show a flicker of recognition. "Elise?"
Her heart leapt in her chest, a wide smile of relief bursting forth as tears filled her eyes and spilt down her cheeks. " Yeah, Sam, it's just me. You're going to be okay. I'm right here. I'm not going anywhere."
Sam nodded, seeming to accept that and take some comfort from it as he relaxed at last and sagged back down into the bath again, closing his eyes.
Elise gently ran some of the cool water over him, brushing his wet fringe back out of his eyes as she tried to hold herself together. Her hands were shaking as she sat down heavily, exhausted and trying not to cry. "We have to get that fever down, Missouri. We're going to lose him…"
"No we won't, baby." Missouri said firmly, putting a hand on Elise's shoulder. "That's boy's a fighter and he'll get through this. Just stay with him. He knows you're here and it means everything to him. Just hold on."
Elise nodded, reaching up to hold Sam's hand again, hoping it was enough.
xxxxXXXxxxx
The throaty rumble of the Impala was the only sound as Bobby pulled up at the shattered remains of the farmhouse. He stepped out, seeing the smoke and a few small scattered fires amidst the destruction. What the hell had happened here? At first, Bobby was hoping that it was a simple broken gas main, maybe something left on when the owners had fled in the face of the Hell gate opening.
But his hopes were dashed, the moment he spied the twisted remains of Gordon's Camino still parked beside the house and he detected the faint sound of a child crying. Breaking into a cautious jog, Bobby headed for the noise, picking up his pace as he recognised the tiny blond figure of Connor standing near the ruins of the house. He scooped the little boy up and rushed him back to the Impala, sitting him in the passenger seat to check him over. Once Bobby was sure Connor was unharmed, he gently asked," Connor? Where's your Mom? Where's Dean?"
Connor pointed to the house, shuddering as he sucked in a wet, broken hiccup of a breath. "M-mommy… Dee… in house. Poppy try to 'ave her but it all fall down." Fat, hot tears were running down his cheeks and Bobby drew the boy into a hug.
"It'll be okay, Connor." Bobby pulled back and used a thick, calloused thumb to gently smudge away Connor's tears. "You stay inside the Impala, okay? I'm gonna be right back."
Connor nodded and climbed in further along the seat. His lip quivered as he pulled his knees up to his chest and hugged them close. The car smelt of Dean and Mom and even his Poppy. Connor watched through teary eyes as Bobby closed the car door and turned back towards the house. Connor wondered if the house was going to eat Bobby too? It had eaten everyone else Connor loved. Maybe it would come after him and eat him too? Would he see Mommy then? Cause Connor was scared sitting alone in the Impala…
"John! Dean?!" Bobby called, pulling aside pieces of dry wall and splinters sections of roof timbers. "Skye? Dammit, someone answer me!"
The whole place had been levelled, the only part of it still standing was part of the fireplace and judging by the red staining and shredded remains of an arm that Bobby could see, Gordon Walker had been there when he died. As far as Bobby was concerned, it'd been too damn quick for the son of a bitch and he hoped that he was going to rot in Hell.
There was a soft groan behind him, feminine sounding. Bobby stepped up his digging, ignoring the splinters and shards that cut his hand or dug under his finger nails. Clawing through the debris until his fingertips brushed a soft, feathery wing, before Bobby pulled away a sheet of dry wall to find John laying face down, bloodied and unmoving. He felt for a pulse and let out a breath Bobby hadn't actually been aware he'd been holding in. The pulse was thready, but it was there and that gave Bobby hope at least that they could do something for John.
Rolling John over, being careful of those massive black wings, especially as one looked like it had been broken when the roof had come down; Bobby found Dean and Skye there, sheltered from most of the blast by John. Skye let out a cough, her eyes flickering open and looking around before they settled on Bobby.
"Easy, darlin', easy…" Bobby soothed as Skye reached out and grabbed hold of his hands. He helped her to sit up when she began to struggle upright, her eyes wide and panicked as she took in deep, shaky breaths that ended in a coughing fit before she managed to whisper one word.
"Connor…"
Bobby could see Skye staring towards a section of the collapsed house, her eyes filling with tears.
"Skye…Skye, listen to me!" Bobby gently turned Skye's face until she was looking at him. " Connor's alright. He's in the Impala, not a scratch on him. You hear me? He's alright…"
It took Skye a moment to truly focus on what Bobby was saying and take it all in, before she was trying to get to her feet, desperate to see her son. Bobby helped her up, supporting Skye's weight with one arm around her waist and her arm over his shoulder as they limped over to the Impala.
Skye barely had the Impala door open before Connor was leaping in her arms. " Mommy! Poppy foun' me! Poppy good at hide and 'eek!"
Bobby helped her to sit down on the seat, patting her shoulder as he smiled at the scene before him. " I'll go help the others…"
Skye barely registered Bobby's words, too busy hugging her son to her. Connor was crying now, his little arms around her neck in almost a stranglehold but Skye couldn't care less at this moment. Her hand was rubbing her son's back as she tried to soothe him, prying him off finally to make her own assessment of Connor's appearance. " You sure you're okay, sweetie? You didn't get hurt at all?"
Connor shook his head, his little face solemn. "Poppy tol' me hide and he'd fine you…but house fell down."
Skye pulled Connor close again, hugging him tightly as she fought off the sobs threatening to burst forth from her. All Skye could remember was John saying there was a bomb and Dean being pushed towards her before everything disappeared in a loud roar and a white flash. Looking towards the ruins of the house, Skye started praying quietly that she would see Dean again, that he was alright. He had to be alright. John too. Skye couldn't bear to think otherwise.
"Time of death…10.41."
It was such a small sentence that had rocked Dean's world to it's foundations, leaving him and Sam orphans. All his life, Dean had fought to keep his family safe, just as Dad taught him. Fighting side by side with his father on hunts, relying on his presence even more when Sam left for Stanford, even if his silence and anger told John otherwise.
John had been the rock, the constant in Dean's life. He had seemed superhuman at times with what he could take and just keep fighting. Dean had always worried about losing his father, nearly going crazy when John had suddenly vanished on him in New Orleans. But even then, Dean had thought he would find his father. Because John Winchester was the toughest man he knew and nothing would ever take him down.
But Dean had been wrong. There had been one thing. One weakness. His sons.
Dean had been dying and without hesitation, his father had made a deal, sold his soul. The guilt Dean carried over that night had been like a fist wrapped around his heart, making it hard for it to beat properly without pain. Dad had died and Dean had been left to protect Sam all alone.
But Dean wasn't alone. Not anymore. His father had come back. Had given his own blood so that Dean would live again. Sacrificing again for his son without hesitation….the same way he had pushed Dean and Skye to the ground. There'd been a brief moment, barely a second of time for Dean to register that his father was between him and the blast, before the world had gone dark.
"Dad?" The word came out more like a croak, Dean's throat dry and scratchy, causing him to cough. Pain sparked through his head and he rolled to one side, drawing his knees up and groaning. It felt like Gordon had cracked his skull when he'd pistol whipped him. Dean shivered suddenly, recalling the gun being in his mouth and how close he'd come to dying at the hands of Gordon Walker, the single biggest threat to Sam there was other than the Demon.
Although Dean was pretty sure he could scratch Gordon's name off that list now. That thought had Dean's good eye snapping open, the other one now too swollen for him to even see any light through. He struggled up onto one elbow, looking around for his father, trying to not to hear that doctor's voice in his mind, calling time of death again and again on some sickening loop. "Dad?"
"Dean!"
The last thing Dean had expected to hear was Bobby's voice, but as the older hunter stumbled through the debris and crouched down in front of him, Dean was damn glad to see the man.
"You alright, can you move?"
"Where's Dad? Skye? Shit…where's Skye? Connor…" Dean suddenly felt overwhelmed by panic. Skye and Connor had been relying on him to keep them safe and he didn't even know where they were. He twisted around as fast as his battered body would let him, until Bobby's sharp voice pulled him up short.
"Dean! Quit it! They're alright. Skye and Connor are in the Impala. Can you stand? I'm gonna need some help to get John out of here." Bobby nodded towards the still figure of John lying a few feet from Dean.
"Dad?" Dean's voice was suddenly quieter, filled with trepidation as he crawled forward to his father and reached out to check his pulse with a hand that betrayed him by shaking. His mouth was completely dry, his heart racing. Not again….please, no, not again. Dean couldn't do it again, couldn't burn his father again. The scars were too fresh, too new from the last time…they always would be. How would he ever face his brother and tell him that Dad had died for him again when Dean only had a year to live himself?
"Dean, he's alive…" Bobby assured him quietly, realising what must have been going through the kid's mind.
It wasn't until Dean felt his father's thready pulse with his own hand, that he felt ready to believe that. It finally shut the damn doctor's voice out of his head, because there was no way he was losing his father now. Where there was a pulse, there was a fighting chance.
"Bobby, help me get him up." Dean gently pulled his father up into a sitting position, grimacing at the way one wing seemed to hang. Maybe it could be strapped until it healed? It was never easy, seeing his father unconscious and injured. It brought back too many painful memories of nursing his father when John would stumble in the door from a hunt, torn open and bleeding, relying on Dean to look out for him while Sammy was asleep in another room.
Bobby helped Dean to his feet, not letting go of his arm until he was sure that Dean wasn't going to fall over. He'd seen the wound on Dean's leg, the blood soaked through his jeans. On top of the battering the kid had taken, Bobby was amazed that Dean was even on his feet in the first place. " You sure you can do this, Dean? Maybe I can manage John on my own…"
"I'm fine. Let's do this." Dean insisted, leaning down to take one of his father's arm. Bobby grabbed the other, the pair of them struggling to lift John up between them. He was a big man already and dead weight too, but it was the wings that made John so heavy to lift now. Bobby wondered how the hell feathers could weigh so much as they stumbled towards the Impala.
Bobby took more and more of John's weight on himself as they crossed the open space towards the car. He could see that Dean was struggling, fighting to put one step in front of the other. The kid had stamina, but there was only so much punishment a body could take before it would it drop and anyone with half a brain could see Dean was close to collapse.
Skye opened the Impala doors for them, gently ushering Connor into the back seat and stepping aside as Bobby and Dean tried to slide John into the passenger seat. His wings made what should have been a relatively simple job, a nightmare of gently tucking in limbs and feathered appendages until John was half lying across the front seat enough for them to close the door.
Without warning, Dean's knees buckled and Bobby barely caught the younger man in time.
"Easy, Dean…I got you." Bobby looked up as Skye stepped forward to help him. She was shaking, her pupils wider than normal. Skye was obviously in shock and judging by the way she was favouring one leg, she was close to collapse herself.
It was at that point that Bobby wished he could resurrect Gordon and make the bastard suffer long term for this. With Skye's help, Bobby was able to slide Dean into the back seat. He watched as Dean curled into himself, letting Skye gently pull him towards her until his head was in her lap. Skye gently ran her fingers threw his hair, speaking to him soothingly while Connor watched from beside his mother without saying a word.
The trip back to the motel was quiet, Bobby turning on the cassette player to keep both Connor and Dean calm, although truth be known, Bobby found the music soothing himself….he just wasn't about to admit to Dean that the kid had given him a taste for Black Sabbath over the years.
Bobby would never hear the end of it from John if he did.
xxxxxXXXxxxxx
Missouri heard the Impala before she saw it. The night air was so still outside and she found herself checking and double checking the salt lines that had been put up after Bobby's departure.
Pulling back the curtain to peer out the window, the sight of the Impala's headlights cutting through the darkness and pulling into the parking lot was a welcome sight, bringing a smile to Missouri's face.
"Elise, hun? Bobby's back…looks like he's found them." Missouri went to the bathroom doorway and looked in on Sam and Elise. The girl was still sat by Sam's side, her hand never leaving his.
"Dean?" Sam's eyes fluttered open for a moment as he spoke his brother's name, his body feebly trying to sit up in the bath tub, limbs jerking disjointedly.
"Shhhh, he'll be here shortly." Elise soothed, using her free hand to sweep Sam's unruly hair out of his eyes.
" I'll go see if Bobby needs any help. You alright here?"
Elise looked up at Missouri and nodded. " We're good, mate. Go."
"Missouri! Get this goddamn door open, woman! I've got wounded people out here!"
" Bobby Singer, you take that tone with me again? And you'll be walking back to South Dakota, you hear me?"
Bobby almost fell in the door with John as it opened, dragging him through the doorway, the winged hunter still unconscious. The weight was almost breaking Bobby's back as he struggled to drag his friend to a nearby bed. Behind them, Skye was stumbling through the door with Dean, walking slowly, allowing him to help her with each painstaking step, however slow. If he collapsed, Skye had no doubts that he would take her to the ground with him.
Connor shuffled close behind Skye, his hand locked onto her belt, unwilling to lose that contact with his mother. His eyes were wide, bottom lip jutting out even though there were no tears to fall. Dark circles hung under his eyes now, the little boy simply overwhelmed by everything. But he had his Mommy, Dee and Poppy back. One part of this frightening world seemed to be back in place again.
Bobby eased John down onto a bed, careful of his broken wing -- and it would never feel right, thinking of his friend as some damn pigeon-- as he tried to make the hunter comfortable. The was a sheen of sweat over the man, a light tremble in his limbs. Bobby scrubbed a tired hand through his beard and stretched, listening to his spine pop in protest. He was getting too old to be hauling half demons around. Hell, Bobby was getting too old for a lot of this shit. But retirement wasn't exactly an option, was it?
" How's Dad?" Dean demanded, still leaning heavily against Skye, looking bloody and exhausted. He hated the fact his vision was cut down to one eye at the moment, depth perception all screwed to hell and everything blurring in and out of focus every so often.
" Dean, come on. Let me get you into the other room and lying down? I'll get you cleaned up and then you can come back out and sit here with John if you want later. But you need to get cleaned up first. You're ready to fall on your ass." Skye argued softly. She admired his stubbornness, always had…but not like this. Not when it was doing more harm than good.
Dean straightened up then, looking around the room with a puzzled expression. " Where's Sam? Sammy?" The lack of reply had Dean taking a step forward, the puzzlement deepening into concern and fear now after all he had been through with Gordon. If that son of a bitch had taken his brother…. " Sammy! Answer me!"
"Dean, I'm sure he's--…" Skye began before she was cut off by Elise's voice coming from the bathro0m.
"Dean? Dean, in here!"
Without hesitation or even a moment's thought to if his knees would give out under him, Dean pushed himself away from Skye and stumbled to the bathroom, falling heavily against the frame with a grunt of pain. His one good eye widened in horror at the sight of Sam lying submerged in a bath of icy water. " Sam? What the fuck happened to him?"
"Bobby said it was some of poison. We're trying to keep his body temperature down." Elise explained, suddenly feeling very exposed and alone in the bathroom. There was no denying the anger and fear she could feel radiating off of Dean right now.
Dean lurched forward, taking a few shaky steps before he fell to his knees and crawled to the bath tub's edge. Elise immediately withdrew, giving the brothers some space.
"Sammy?" Dean gently took Sam by the chin and turned his brother's head towards him, trying not to panic as it rolled a little too easily. A little too limply. " Sam? Come on, dude…open your eyes. Look at me, Sammy."
A flicker of hazel rewarded Dean before he heard his name whispered from Sam's lips. He pushed himself up onto his knees more and leaned forward, pressing his forehead against his brothers and fighting back the urge to laugh hysterically. " Yeah, dude. I'm here. I'm right here."
Sam shifted a little in the bath, his leg snapping out uncoordinatedly, hitting the wall with a thud as he jerked and shivered. His eyes opened after a moment, sliding slowly around the room before they settled on Dean and a lopsided grin appeared on Sam's face. The wide pupils and glassy appearance made Dean's stomach knot up. " You with me, Sammy?"
"You're late…and you look like shit." Sam suddenly snorted with laughter, letting it dissolve into a childish giggle. " I'm gonna have all the cake now. Dad said you weren't supposed to be fighting…"
"Dean?" Skye appeared in the doorway, cupping a hand over her mouth to stifle a gasp of horror as she saw the state Sam was in.
Sam nudged his brother, still grinning. " I think she likes you, Dean. You should take her to the prom…"
Dean rolled his eyes, trying to act calm when inside he was utterly freaked by his brother's behaviour. " Thanks Dr. Love…but I think I have it covered." There'd been plenty of times over the years when Dean had nursed a delirious Sam. But it didn't make it any easier each time.
" Just watch out for Jo…I think she's jealous, dude. She spiked the punch…" Sam mumbled, reaching over to latch onto Dean's shirt, his long fingers snaring the material weakly. "Watch your back…" The hand dropped into the bath with a splash, Sam sinking down again as his head rolled back, his eyes closing.
"Sammy?" Dean reached out and felt for a pulse. It was too fast for Dean's liking, but strong. That had to be a positive sign, right? His brother was strong, he'd get through this. Dean wasn't willing to accept anything else. Not with Dad lying out in the other room as well, shot full of some sort of concoction made to hurt demons.
"Dean, you need to rest. Someone needs to look at your injuries….please?" Skye pleaded quietly. She was leaning against the doorframe herself now, worn out and feeling lightheaded. Blood had begun to fill her sneaker from the bullet wound in her thigh. Wrapping her arms around herself, Skye shivered, feeling cold. All she wanted to do was lie down and sleep.
"I'm not leaving him." Dean informed Skye quietly. " Sam needs to know I'm here."
"Skye, honey? Why don't you come with me? I'll see to it that Dean's looked after…." Missouri had come up to the doorway and she gently took Skye by the arm, finding it disconcerting when Skye allowed herself to be led to the bedroom without a word of protest. She seemed distant, away in a world of her own as shock took a firm hold of her.
Missouri had made note of the younger woman's wounds when Skye had first entered the room. Bobby was tending to John, Dean had pulled his usual stunt of putting his brother before himself…but Skye had held back, kept her injuries quiet, too concerned for Connor and Dean to think about herself. Just like a wife and mother. Everyone else came first.
Now she was in shock, on the verge of collapse. Missouri would have to give Skye a sharp talking to about that later. As she led Skye towards the master bedroom, she could see Bobby sat down beside John, wrapping his wounds and making sure John was on the road to recovery. They weren't sure yet what Gordon had done to John, but it had left the hunter in a bad way.
Connor was sat next to Bobby, quietly watching everything and stroking John's hair from time to time, obviously trying to comfort his poppy. Missouri felt her throat tightening and admonished herself for being soft. She gave the scene one last glance before she closed the door, leaving her alone to tend to Skye's injuries.
xxxxXXXxxxx
"What the hell happened? Who did this?" Dean looked over his shoulder at Elise, noting that she hadn't left the room, preferring to keep in the back ground, her eyes never leaving Sam. It actually meant a lot to Dean to see Elise there still. It told him that this girl really did care for his brother and Dean was glad for that, because if he needed to know that Sam would be alright when his deal came due. He wanted Sam to have another woman in his life after Jess, another shot at happiness. The kid deserved it.
"Her name was Jo. She said she knew you.."
Sam's earlier comment hit home and Dean swivelled to face Elise, almost overbalancing as the room suddenly spun dizzily. He flailed out and grabbed the bath for support, putting his other hand up to Elise as she took a step forward to help him. "I'm okay….back off."
"Fine, tough guy…didn't mean to step on your toes." Elise sat back against the wash basin again and folded her arms.
" No that's--….you didn't--…" Dean stumbled, before he sighed, shaking his head at how he'd just screwed up. "You said her name was Jo? Was she small built? Blonde?"
" So she did know you…?"
"Yeah." Dean scowled, thinking about how Jo had drugged him, Skye and Connor. " When I get my hands on that bitch, I swear I'm going to--…."
"I wouldn't bother getting too worked up." Elise picked at her bloodstained shirt, realising she needed to get out of these clothes. She'd tried to block it out of her mind since coming into the bathroom. Sam's condition had taken priority with Elise and distracted her a little from the nightmare visions she saw every time she closed her eyes.
Dean's gaze dropped to the dark stain on her clothing, his good eye widening in realisation. "You? You took her out?"
"What? Is it hard for you to think a girl could do that?" Elise demanded, sitting up straighter, on the defensive instantly. "Or just me?"
"That's not what I meant."
"Then what the fuck did you mean?"
"Hey!" Dean snapped, instantly bringing the argument to a halt. His jaw was set, his one good eye fixing Elise with a glare. "I wasn't saying you couldn't handle yourself, okay? I just meant you shouldn't have had to do that. That's all. I'm sorry you had to do it."
Elise blinked, taken aback by Dean's admission before she nodded. "Oh."
Dean shifted uncomfortably, every ache and pain in his body starting to announce itself with loving detail. Looking down at the stab wound in his leg, he could see the bleeding had stopped, but the wound itself was still open and angry looking. His shoulder hadn't fared much better, the pain hot and constantly throbbing where Gordon's mis-aimed shot had hit him. It was better than taking a round in the chest though…..
"You want me to take a look at that?"
Dean tilted his head to the side and despite the pain and tiredness, gave a cocky smirk to Elise. "Well I don't know what Sam might say, he could get a little jealous…"
" Your wounds, smart arse. " Elise rolled her eyes. " And Sam's not the only one who'd get jealous. Isn't that right, Skye?"
Dean's smirk froze as he turned towards the doorway….and found it empty. Elise collapsed into a fit of giggles, that only increased as he turned back and threw her a dirty look.
"Oh you're a laugh riot."
Still giggling, Elise got up and clapped a hand to Dean's shoulder. "Suck it up, tough guy. I'll go get some bandages from Bobby."
xxxxXXXXxxxx
Sewing up bullet wounds was second nature to Bobby Singer now. He was fast and efficient, digging out the homemade slug from John's chest without too much trouble and dropping it into a cup beside on the table. The wound had been cleaned, sewn up and bandaged….but it wasn't the only one that needed tending to.
Bobby placed a hand on John's shoulder as he prepared to sew up an ugly gash that had torn open the man's shoulder. He glanced for a moment at the solemn little face of Connor beside him. " You want to go and see your Mom, buddy? It might be best if you' re not watching this."
Connor looked towards the door to the bedroom, then shook his head. He had seen how hurt his Mommy was and it scared him to see her that way. He reached out and ran his little fingers through John's hair again. " 'Tay here."
Bobby nodded at Connor, offering him a smile. "Okay, okay, little buddy. You can stay. Hey, you like puppies?'
Connor looked at Bobby, his little face an open question mark. It was all the distraction he needed to slip the needle into John's skin and begin sewing before Connor looked. "I had this dog back before your Momma met me. His name was Rumsfeld. You'd have liked him, Connor. And he'd have loved you too."
" Doggie go 'way?"
Bobby nodded, surprised to find that it still hurt to think of that that bitch Meg did to his Rottweiler. Rumsfeld had been a damn fine dog and Bobby was proud of the fact that he had died doing his job. But that didn't mean it didn't hurt. He missed that dog every damn day. "Yeah, he went away. But maybe it's time I got another pup huh? If I do, you wanna help me pick it out? It can be our dog. I'll share him with you." Bobby winked at Connor.
"Okay." Connor nodded, pleased with that idea and trying to mimic the wink Bobby had given him, blinking with both eyes instead and grinning as Bobby laughed.
A groan slipped from John's lips as Bobby tied off the stitches in his shoulder. He opened his eyes, revealing them to be yellowed and bloodshot, the pupils blown wide.
" You with us, John?" Bobby leaned forward, pressing the back of his hand to John's forehead. The hunter was clammy with sweat, his body still shivering as his body fought against the poison that had weakened him.
" Bobby?" John rasped, running his tongue over dry lips before he closed his eyes again.
" No, Florance Nightingale."
" Bullshit, you don't have the legs…" John whispered, before the touch a tiny hand to his cheek had him opening his eyes again. " Connor?"
" Hi, Poppy!" Connor beamed, his smile as bright as a sun.
" Hey, Champ. You okay?" John managed a tired smile, despite the pain. He swallowed it down, forcing himself not to shudder while Connor was smiling at him. John was no stranger to doing this. Hiding his pain behind a façade. He'd done it so many times over the years when Sammy was younger. If he could spare his son that fear? Then he would do so again for Connor. The fact that Connor was beside him, gave John some indication that Dean and Skye had to be okay too.
" Poppy okay?" Connor's little hand was still on John's cheek, patting it ever so gently. " You got bites?"
John chuckled at the word Connor had used. It was like his own little term for pain or injury. " I'm fine, dude. Only a couple of bites. Bobby here is going to make them all better though."
Bobby raised an eyebrow at that. " One minute I'm Florance Nightingale….the next I'm Doctor McCoy? You reckon I can cure a rainy day now?"
"I'd settle for you being able to make coffee that didn't eat through my stomach lining." John growled, his voice strained.
"Next time I'll make sure you get the Vanilla Malt Latte…" Bobby drawled, leaning forward to inspect his handwork.
John laughed then, hissing afterwards as his body reminded him just how much bad shape it was in right now. " Dammit, Bobby…"
"Hey, I'm not the one with the taste for those froofy coffees, Winchester." Bobby joked in return as he checked over every bandage and wound. The only injury left was the wing that needed setting, but the joking had gone a long way to reassuring Connor. The little boy was sitting beside John on the bed now, smiling and relaxed, the pensiveness gone from his body.
" You alright to let me set that wing?" Bobby asked, knowing it was going to hurt like a son of a bitch.
John nodded. " Help me get comfortable first, will you? I want to move back on the bed and make some room for Connor."
Bobby stood up and carefully eased John back on the bed more until there was enough room for Connor to sit beside John easily. The little boy curled up as close as he close to his Poppy, patting his hair, an intense look on his cherubic face. "It okay, Poppy. Be brave."
John gave Connor a tight smile, then looked over his shoulder at Bobby. " Do it."
Bobby let out a silent prayer to anything listening as he set the wing, flinching at the way the bones crunched before they were back in place.
John growled through gritted teeth, fighting the urge to arch his back as the excruciating pain blossomed through his shoulder and wing. His breathing fell into a serious of sharp, shallow gasps before he suddenly sagged, the pain driving away his consciousness.
Connor sat there, watching John carefully, noting the way his chest continued to rise and fall, before he wriggled down a little and curled into the space beside John on the bed. He snuggled up as close as he could to his Poppy, pressing his head against his chest and letting the sound of his heartbeat lull him into sleep after a few minutes.
Bobby watched the pair, a hint of a smile quirking up the corner of his mouth, before he set to reapplying the salt lines to the door and window.
xxxxXXXXxxxx
Missouri watched Skye carefully as she finished sewing up the bullet wound in her leg. The shot was luckily a through and through injury, sparing Skye the agony of having to dig out a bullet. But the blood loss had taken a toll, along with the bruising that marred Skye's face. Deep purple marks around her cheekbone and jaw where Gordon had struck her, her bottom lip was swollen and split.
Missouri saw the way Skye was now favouring her arm, noting the deep gouges around the wrist from the handcuff. Placing a hand on her shoulder, the psychic saw a flash of pain in Skye's eyes as she flinched slightly, but otherwise there was no reaction. Skye was shutting down, withdrawing more and more. The shoulder had to be strained at the very least, perhaps some ligament damage at worst. It had to be causing Skye some serious pain but it wasn't the only reason for the woman's silence.
Pushing slightly, ever so careful not to hurt her, Missouri read Skye's thoughts. At first it was a jumbled noise, full of fear and pain….but under it all was one singular thought that was cutting Skye to the bone and it made Missouri recoil sharply at first, gasping in surprise, before she grabbed hold of Skye's hands. " Oh sugar, you should have said something. It won't do you any good to keep that to yourself. Dean's going to need our help."
" Help?"
The word came out softly, but so soaked in bitterness and pain, it scared Missouri. She gave Skye's hand a gentle squeeze. "Of course, help. That boy may have made some boneheaded decisions in his life, but that doesn't mean it has to be the end of it."
" He should be in here, Missouri. Dean should resting. He nearly died tonight. He could have died… could have gone to Hell before you, me…anyone could do anything about it. Why does he keep doing that? Why does he put everyone before himself? Why doesn't he see himself as being just as important?" Skye demanded quietly, a single tear falling from her eyes before she started to shake. Coming undone at the seams emotionally.
Missouri drew Skye into a hug, mindful of her shoulder as she tried to comfort her. "I know, honey. That boy was damaged goods long before he met you. It's just the way he is, how he grew up. Sam always came first and I guess over the years, his self esteem has taken that much a beating that he doesn't see his own worth. Damn that John Winchester, I could just slap that man for letting Dean get that way."
" Don't be too hard on him. He's still here for them. It's more than my family ever did for me. " Skye blinked away her tears, knowing that John was far from perfect, but he had tried. She would never forget the look on Dean's face when John burst in the door and attacked Gordon. It was like watching a kid watch his hero in action.
" I'd slap your family too…" Missouri grumbled defensively.
" Want an address?" Skye asked, before she gave a small hitching sound somewhere between a laugh and a sob.
Missouri fixed Skye with a look. " Girl, you think I need you to write me down an address after you've been broadcasting it around?"
"Fine, want some company on the drive?"
Missouri laughed then, the sound soft and pleasant. She patted Skye on the hand and stood up. " You're going to lie down and get some rest, you hear me? I'll send Dean in as soon as I can make that boy see some sense…which is possibly never."
Skye snickered softly, not resisting as Missouri gently guided her back onto the bed behind her, then placed the covers over her. She was beginning to realise how very tired she was, her eyes losing the battle to stay open.
Missouri stood and watched Skye until she was satisfied by the gentle, slow rise and fall of her breathing that indicated she'd fallen asleep. Missouri slipped out of the room then, leaving the door ajar so they could keep an eye on Skye. Turning around, she found Bobby watching her from the kitchenette, drinking coffee from a chipped motel mug.
John and Connor were still asleep on the bed. Two mattresses lay crammed into the spare floor space. Bobby had obviously retrieved them from another room.
" I don't think it's a good idea for any of us to split up at the moment…." Bobby drawled, his watchful gaze sweeping the room from behind the rim of his coffee cup. It reminded Missouri of those junkyard dogs Bobby had a fondness for owning. Always watchful, always on guard to protect their territory…or the ones they loved.
" Good thing one of us is thinking. " Missouri glanced towards the bathroom, her eyes darkening with anger.
"What the hell does that mean?" Bobby set down his coffee, giving Missouri a questioning look.
xxxxXXXXxxxx
"Look, I've only done this once before and Sam was unconscious at the time, so try to hold still, okay tough guy? I'll try not to hurt you…" Elise informed Dean with a tight, nervous smile as she laid out everything she would need to clean and treat his wounds.
Sam was lying peacefully in the bath behind them still. Every so often he would shiver and mumbled incoherently, both Elise and Dean finding it oddly reassuring because it told them at least he was still with them. Other than bringing down his temperature and waiting for Sam's fever to break, there wasn't much else they could do for him but keep a silent vigil beside him.
"Just keep the stitches small…" Dean muttered, closing his eyes.
"Robin Hood, Prince Of Thieves."
Dean's eyes flew open again and he looked at Elise, a surprised smile appearing. "You are totally out of my brother's league, you know that? Sam's not the movie quote kinda guy….he'd rather bury his nose in a book."
"Not like you hard rocking, drive in movie types huh?" Elise teased, pouring some antiseptic onto a gauze pad and placing it against Dean's shoulder with a smirk.
Dean hissed in pain and glared as Elise bit back a snigger. "Hey!"
"Elise?"
Both Elise and Dean looked up towards the doorway to see Bobby standing there with Missouri. There was a sense of storm clouds gathering around the mechanic as he looked at Dean. " Elise, you want to step outside for a moment? I need to have a few words with Dean."
"Sure, I'll just finish bandaging--…"
"I'll take over. You go and get some air. I'm sure Missouri won't mind making you a coffee?"
Missouri looked at Bobby as though the hunter had lost his mind. " Do I look like Starbucks?"
"Not now, Missouri…" Bobby's tone was darker than normal and it made Missouri back down for once, rolling her eyes as she stepped back from the door and signalled to Elise. " Come on, hun…we'll let the boys have their talk."
Elise and Dean exchanged a brief look before she stood up and left the bathroom.
Bobby closed the door behind him and knelt down beside Dean, taking over from where Elise had left it. He cleaned the wound, then picked up the suture needle. "You ready?"
"I'd prefer to be sucking back on a bottle of whiskey…but yeah, go ahead." Dean nodded, gritting his teeth against the bite of the needle as it slid back and forth through his skin, closing up the wound. He had to give Bobby one thing. The man knew what he was doing with a needle and thread. His work was quick and precise, honed over the years out of necessity. The ugly knife wound in his thigh was next and Dean swore quietly as Bobby cut away his jeans to reveal the damage Gordon had done.
"Jesus, Dean…"
"I've had worse…"
"Didn't realise it was a contest." Bobby deadpanned, cleaning the wound and cursing Gordon for the mess he had made here. The knife had torn muscle, tissue…all the way to the bone. It was going to leave a nasty scar and probably give the kid a limp for a little while. Bobby never thought he would ever think it, but he was grateful that Dean had demon blood healing him now…because that wound could have been fatal otherwise. "Just what the hell were you thinking?"
"About what? Gordon opening up my leg like a side of beef?" Dean asked, confused.
"Making a deal, Dean. Selling your soul to some damn Crossroad Demon! What the hell were you thinking?" Bobby demanded, his temper flaring as his voice rose a little.
Dean was caught off guard, floundering for a moment to find the words. " How did you-…?"
" Missouri. She might not be able to read you? But she can sure as hell read Skye and right now? That girl is hurting, Dean. What the hell were you thinking??"
"I was thinking that Connor needed his mom, Bobby." Dean couldn't believe he was defending himself here again. " I didn't want to be the one to tell that kid that I got his mother killed."
"Dammit, Dean, you weren't respons--…"
"Yes I am! Skye was involved because of me, Bobby! I brought her into this life. If I had stayed away? None of this would have happened. Skye wouldn't have died! I had to fix it, Bobby. I had to. I couldn't let Connor go through that pain. I just couldn't." Dean's voice hitched a little as he spoke, thinking back to the look he had seen on Connor's face. The hope he had restored when he told Connor he would wake Skye up again.
Bobby wanted to hit Dean. Just smack some sense into him for making such a choice. But at the same time he wanted to hit John for teaching him that making a deal for your soul in exchange for a life, was an option. " How long'd you get?"
"Bobby…"
"How long?" Bobby barked sharply enough that it made Sam jump behind them before he sagged again.
" A year. She gave me a year…and I was lucky to get that…"
"Damn it, Dean…" Bobby could feel his throat tightening, tears pricking his eyes as he heard the broken edge in Dean's voice. That demon bitch had only reinforced the boy's issues of self worth and Bobby made a silent vow to hunt her down and make her regret that. Sam and Dean were John's boys, but Bobby felt as much love for them as any blood kin would have. The thought of Dean going to the pit was tearing Bobby up.
" I'm sorry, Bobby. I didn't know what else to do…"
" I know, kid. I know." Bobby gave Dean's shoulder a squeeze, needing him to know that despite how stupid the idea was, there were people backing him up. Bobby knew that John and Sam would fight this deal every step of the way. He intended on doing everything he could to help them. "We're gonna get you out of this, Dean. You've got my word on that. But right now? The best thing you could do is get some rest."
" I'm not leaving Sam, Bobby. He needs me."
"He doesn't need you passing out on a bathroom floor, Dean. Now get your ass into the other room and get some rest. I'll sit with Sam and the moment he asks for you, I'll come get you. Get out of here." Bobby stood up and offered Dean a hand up. He was grateful that Dean accepted it after another moment's hesitation. It saved Bobby having the physically throw Dean out of the bathroom.
" The moment he asks for me…" Dean echoed, fixing Bobby with a look that indicated how seriously he took that.
"You got my word. Now git!"
Dean snorted out a short laugh at Bobby pulling rank on him and limped sorely out of the room. He saw Connor lying with his Dad on a bed, asleep. Elise and Missouri quietly talking in the kitchenette. Dean nodded to the pair, then turned to go and lie down beside Skye in the main bedroom.
Connor shifted in his sleep and began to cry, the sound soft and mewling as he sat up tiredly, rubbing at his eyes with his tiny fists.
Dean crossed the floor and scooped Connor up as the little boy held out his arms to him. Cradling Connor against his good shoulder, Dean carried him into the other room, nudging the door shut with his hip. He laid Connor down on the bed beside Skye, pulling the covers up over the pair of them. It was a little awkward, stripping off his now shredded jeans, shivering slightly in his boxers before he climbed into bed.
Connor gave Dean a sleepy smile and yawned as Dean brushed the hair back out of Connor's eyes.
" Nigh' Daddy…" Connor mumbled sleepily, closing his eyes and drifting off again.
Dean blinked, unsure if he had heard Connor right, an ache filling his chest as he reached over the little boy and laid his hand on Skye's hip, keeping them both close. He laid there for several minutes, watching Skye sleep, listening to Connor's tiny little snores, before his own eyes drifted shut and sleep claimed Dean at last.