Finally chapter 6 is here! This one ended up a little longer than previous chapters, it just kinda ran away with me there...
Sorry it took so long to update, as per usual uni is riding me particularly hard at the moment so this was scribbled in about 4 different note books over the course of some very boring lectures...
I hope you guys like it, and thank you so much to all the people who have supported the story so far, honestly, your reviews are so lovely they are my main driving force to keep this going. Thank you thank you thank you, I love all of you.
Keep the review and suggestions coming, I love to here from you!
Anyway, enjoy!
"John you can't just dump your kids here for an indefinite amount of time and expect me to be okay with it!" Hope pressed her nose against the impala's window, breathing out a patch of fog onto the glass. She could see John gesticulating at the older man on the porch but couldn't quite hear what he said, though she could guess. She might have only been with the Winchesters a couple of months now, but she was coming to understand the feeling of being a burden. She saw it in Sam's eyes too, saw how hard he tried to impress his dad and how he never got any praise in return. She didn't see it so much in Dean, but it was there none-the-less, the look of a child striving for approval.
She pulled away from the window to draw her finger through the fog, sketching a wonky star.
"You shouldn't do that... dad doesn't like it when we get the windows dirty." She turned to look at Sam and chuckled quietly, using her sleeve to wipe the window clean again. John was certainly precious about his stupid car, that was for sure, and she was learning not to get on his bad side.
"Who's he talking to?" She asked curiously, pointing at the tubby man standing on the porch of the run down house, a baseball cap perched on the top of his head. Sam scooted across the seat so that he was beside her at the window and grinned.
"That's uncle Bobby, the one who gave me the colouring pencils. He's really nice, you'll like him. He's kinda grumpy all the time, but real nice. We stay with him sometimes when dad goes away..." Hope couldn't help but like Bobby just from the hero worship in Sam's voice. She glanced up at Bobby and frowned. He didn't look like much, he was probably in his late forties, early fifties though Hope had hardly met more than a handful of people in her life so she couldn't be certain. She absently scratched at the healing stitches on her face, wincing slightly as she caught the edge of a scab.
"Why is he cross? Doesn't he want us to stay?" She asked, cocking her head to the side slightly as she observed the two men conversing. She cracked the window a little so she could hear what they said, their voices just reaching her across the junk yard.
"I've got a lead Bobby... Demon signs up in Washington. This could be my chance and I can't risk Sammy like that, we still don't know what yellow eyes wanted back in the nursery the night Mary..." He faltered, pacing back and forth across the porch, his fists clenching and unclenching at his sides. Bobby sighed and his offensive stance relaxed a little, throwing his arms up in an age old gesture of surrender.
"Fine! I'll take the boys but you'd better make it quick or I'll- What? Why do you look guilty?" He stopped mid sentence to glare at John, who lifted his hand to rub the hair at the nape of his neck awkwardly and smiled apologetically at Bobby. The older man was instantly on guard again. He'd known John Winchester long enough to recognize that face.
"No John, whatever it is, hell no." He warned, standing a little taller in the hopes the stubborn hunter would back down.
"Well, you see Bobby... It's not just the boys anymore..." He stepped aside so Bobby could scan the occupants of the car.
There was Dean in the front seat, his feet up on the dash as he repeatedly jammed a pen into the opening of his cast, trying to scratch an itch. The corner of Bobby's mouth twitched in the threat of a smile at the oldest boy, but stilled again as his eyes flicked to the back seat. He could see Sam, apparently arguing with himself... He took a step closer, squinting through the sun's glare on the impala's windows as a dark, curly head popped into view, turning to reveal a beaming girl. She triumphantly held aloft a piece of candy in one hand as with the other she pinned Sam down on the seat.
Bobby watched in disbelief, glancing up at John only for a second before his eyes were drawn back to the pretty little girl, whose hysterical laughter didn't quite reach across the distance.
"Is she- Is she... yours?" He mumbled, caught in her spell.
"I wish... It sure would make this whole damn situation easier... She's just a stray. I found her half dead in the woods a couple of months back." Bobby swung round to face John, jabbing at his chest with one stubby finger.
"A stray?! What the hell were you thinking?!" He shouted, gesticulating wildly.
"Take her to the police, social services, something, John! I know less than nothing about little girls but I sure as hell know you can't just keep them ya idjit! She ain't a pet to keep the boys busy!" John groaned and went back to pacing the length of the porch, one hand running through his hair in frustration as the other clenched and unclenched at his side, never taking his eyes of the car.
"You think I don't know that Bobby? Believe me, I do! But I couldn't just let her loose..." He paused, unsure how to say his piece without Bobby filling him full of salt were he stood. He eyes flicked to the shotgun propped by the door as he Sighed and just blurted it.
"I'm not so sure she's human." Bobby reached out and grabbed John's arms, stopping him in his tracks.
"You're wearing a damn hole in my porch, settle down! What do you mean not human, John, 'cause I sure as hell ain't taking her if she's a danger!"
John snatched his arm back out of Bobby's grip and dropped down into a rickety old lawn chair, near enough to the shotgun he'd reach it before Bobby if the need arose.
"She's not dangerous, I'm sure of it. I have no idea what she is... or if she's anything to worry about at all, but how I found her was... off. I've never seen it before Bobby, and I know if anyone can find out more, it's you... I need you to do the book work." He looked imploringly up at bobby, who stood unconvinced. He let his head drop into his hands with a tired sigh.
"Please, Bobby... Dean doesn't get his cast off for another couple of weeks and I can't leave them alone if he can't protect them. I just need to follow up on these leads and I'll be back, I swear... Please... She's just a kid..." Bobby took in the bags under John's eyes, the slight tremor in his hands as he looked up at him, pleading, weary to the bone and sighed. Sometimes he wished he'd never met John Winchester, but in all honesty, he loved those boys like his own and couldn't stand to see them treated the way they were, like soldiers. The thought of John taking in another one, a little girl and treating her the same made his skin crawl, but it wasn't his place to question. He slapped John on the shoulder and turned into the house.
"Well what are ya waiting for? Get them inside before they wreck your precious car." He grumbled, letting the screen door sing shut behind him. John let the slightest of smug smiles flicker at his lips before pushing himself out of the chair, striding towards the car.
"Dean! Get your damn feet of my dash or so help me you're in the back with the kids from now on." He shouted, swinging the door open and grabbing a fist full of his collar, giving him a little shake for emphasis.
"Alright alright! God..." Dean griped, abandoning the itch inside his cast as he stepped out of the car, straightening his jacket indignantly. Like a cat pretending it hadn't just fallen off a window ledge he swaggered up towards the house, turning his collar up and shoving his hands in his pockets. John grinned and shook his head, opening the back door of the impala and waving a hand towards the house.
"Come on, into the house with ya." He held out a hand to Hope as she climbed down but she ignored it, jumping down onto the packed dirt with a grin, Sam climbing out behind her. They raced up to the house, playfully shoving one another as they went. John had to admit it was kinda nice seeing Sam so happy... he knew it was hard for his boy to make friends, what with them moving so often and him knowing about the nether world, so it had been a while since he'd Sam actually play, not just sit and read, or draw... It was good to hear them laugh. Hope seemed to be a good influence of his boys, that much was clear, he watched as she caught Sam's arm as he stumbled up the steps, the two of them giggling as he brushed off his knees and continued through the dirty old screen door. Life had once again dealt him a bum hand, but he was a Winchester, so he'd be damned if he didn't take what he had and make the most of it. He took a step towards the house, going to follow the kids inside but instead stopped and lent back against the side of the car, looking up the patches of blue sky inbetween the clouds. Mary would have known what to do... She always knew what to do. He sighed and look back down at the dirt floor, rubbing the blind spots out of his eyes from the brightness as he turned and opened the car door, sliding himself into the drivers seat. There was no point in goodbyes, he'd be back in a couple of weeks, hopefully with some closure.
"Hey dad! Bobby wants to know if you've got-" Dean poked his head round the door just in time to see the Impala speed out of the salvage yard, kicking up a cloud of dust as it turned the corner. He knew he shouldn't have been angry, he was used to his dad just taking off like this, but even so his jaw clenched tight as he jumped down the steps to grab their bags, which had been left unceremoniously in the middle of the drive way and turn back into the house, slamming the door hard behind him.
Hope stood awkwardly in the middle of the dark living room, digging her booted toe into the carpet as Bobby looked her up and down, his eyes lingering on the healing scratches across her face which looked sore and itchy. He sighed and took a step forward, his hand outreached to grip her chin and get a better look. Though she was getting better with people, she wasn't quite at the stage where she would let a strange man touch her face, no matter how much Sam loved him, and ducked out from under his grip, diving passed him into the kitchen where Dean was already rummaging through the fridge.
"Hey! Don't touch my beers" He warned the teen in passing as he followed the newest Winchester, spotting her squished under the table looking embarrassed.
"I'm 14 now... dad lets me." Dean grumbled, instead grabbing a can of soda and huffing out of the kitchen while Bobby shifted a chair out of the way to crouch down beside the table.
"You are a terrible liar Dean Winchester, now go find your brother, you kids need the riot act before I set you loose on my house." He called over his shoulder, before turning his attention back to Hope, who was clearly already regretting this decision, her blush having reached a particularly impressive shade.
"Okay kid, let's make one thing absolutely clear from the get go, I ain't gonna hurt you, you have my word. As long as you are in my care you'll be safe." He reached a hand under the table to her which she took with only a moments hesitation, letting him pull her out. Once she was standing beside him he very slowly lifted a hand to her face again and gently tilted her chin. He gave a sympathetic hiss and let go.
"Well, kid, you should really be rubbing some ointment in those or you'll find yourself with a hefty scar when you're 20, but lucky for you I think I have some somewhere... What's you're name hun?" In a show of surprising confidence she stuck one of her tiny pale hands for him to shake and stood her ground, make the old hunter chuckle.
"Hope Eddison... Winchester?" She stumbled slightly over the last name, not entirely sure if she was supposed to have used that first. For the last couple of months for all intents and purposes she'd been the third Winchester child, John had drilled into her to use whatever surname they all went by for the sake of safety, and she was getting pretty good at it, but if this man was their friend then did it matter...? She did kind of like calling herself a Winchester, but then, her last name was all she had left of her real dad. Bobby just continued to chuckle as he used the table to pull himself up again, the two Winchester boys skidding round the corner into the kitchen and landing in a heap beside them.
"Nice to meet you, Hope Eddison Winchester, I'm Bobby Singer, but you can just call me Uncle Bobby, these apes do." He grunted, bending down to grip Sam's arm and haul him up to a standing position, brushing him down as Dean tried to look dignified.
"Now, boys, you should know the rules by now but we'll go through them for Miss Hope's sake. Rule 1, no touching my beer, Dean I'm looking at you. Rule 2, do not, except in the agreed emergencies touch the gun rack, the knives, or ANYTHING in the cupboards marked 'Dangerous: Do not touch'. Rule 3, ask before you read my books, some of the stuff in there is guaranteed to give even you boys nightmares- Dean stop snorting, you ain't as hard as you think- Rule 4, Do not leave the house without telling me where you're off to, not only are there dangerous folks around, but this is a working salvage yard, not a playground. Rule 5, I swear to all that is holy and good in this world if I catch you near my skin mags I will trade you in for a bottle of whiskey Dean, I ain't kidding this time!" He pointed a stern finger Dean's way and stared him down.
"Fine! They're old and lame anyway..." Dean grumbled in surrender, refusing to make eye contact.
"I'm going to shoot cans in the yard." Bobby slapped a hand to his forehead, groaning.
"What did I literally just say about guns boy?! Go read a book- a nice book! Or watch T.V!" He shouted as Dean strolled out of the kitchen towards the living room again, throwing himself down onto the faded old couch.
"God I hate teenagers... Sammy, why don't you go watch T.V? I need to talk to Hope for a bit." Sam frowned and nodded as he reluctantly left the room, glancing over his shoulder in case he missed anything interesting. Bobby made a shooing motion with his hands and turned back to Hope, who looked up at him quizzically.
"Why do you need to talk to me?" She asked curiously, settling into the chair he pulled out for her at the kitchen table. He took of his tatty old baseball cap to ruffle the grey hair underneath and replace then replaced it, a nervous tick.
"Well Hope, we- me and John- have some questions we really need to ask you, about growing up, and your dad..." Her feet swinging under the chair stilled as she gripped the edge of the chair, her knuckles turning white under the pressure. He brow furrowed a little as she shook her head and looked down at her feet in shame. She didn't want to be a burden, but neither did she want to talk about her dad. She hadn't worked up the courage to tell either of the boys about how much she missed him, let alone John, and she wasn't ready to go digging up the past. Instead she lied, refusing to meet eye contact.
"I... I don't remember." She said quietly, hearing him sigh and drop into the chair beside her.
"Well I know that ain't the truth." He said, not unkindly as he pulled a battered old notepad and biro out of his jeans pocket. He cleared his throat and flicked to a clear page, resting pen on paper.
"Okay... an easy one. What was your dad's name?" Hope looked up at him and shrugged, this time telling the truth.
"I don't know, I just called him dad... I guess his last name was Eddison, like mine... that's what he introduced himself as if we ever met anyone..." She sat forward a little in her chair, watching him scribble down a note in a series of strange symbols on the pad. She reached forward with one hand to turn the pad slightly towards her as the other still gripped the edge of the chair keeping her upright.
"What language is that?" She asked, slightly awed. Bobby chuckled and pulled the pad back his way.
"It's shorthand, it's like special code that makes it faster to write. What about your mom? Do you remember her." Hope seemed to be settling slightly, coming out of her shell. He was trying to keep the questions fairly neutral until she relaxed completely in his company. Again she shrugged, the tension in her legs gradually fading as they began to swing again, making her whole body turn slightly from side to side with each movement.
"I don't know, I never met her. Dad said she went to be with the rest of his family when I was born. He always got sad when I asked, so I stopped asking, but he was mostly sad all the time anyway." Her eyes were glued to the paper as he wrote, following each stroke of the pen. She liked this code language, it was pretty, and fast... she would try and learn it before John got back and surprise him.
"Did your mother die...?" Bobby asked carefully, not wanting to push her away but wanting to clear up his suspicions.
"I don't know... maybe."
"Okay... Uh... can you remember anything strange about your dad?" Hope shuffled uncomfortably and glanced over at the window, then the fridge before turning back to him with a too bright smile.
"Hey uncle Bobby can I have a soda?" She asked, trying to change the subject. Bobby sighed and shook his head.
"If you answer a few more questions you can have as many sodas as you like. Now, was there anything strange about you Pa?" There was a little more force behind the question this time, the fact that she'd tried to change the subject was promising, it meant she was trying to hide something. Her lower lip wobbled slightly but she bit it and slumped into her seat.
"My Pa was always strange! He didn't let me talk to people, he only ever let us live in stupid, dirty old run down huts in the middle of the forest and he never let me go to school! He said it was too dangerous, that people would come looking for us, and we had to keep moving because we were being watch! Always being watched, he said! I never got to make friends, or even talk to people! Once I jumped out of a tree in the hopes I would hurt myself bad enough that he'd have to take me to hospital be he just shouted at me and then this glowing light came out of him and it didn't hurt anymore so I-" She had really gotten herself worked up, her face red with anger and humiliation. Her entire life so far had been a complete embarrassment, just a long list of how her crazy over protective dad had kept her a prisoner in the woods with nothing but T.V for company. But the one thing he had always stressed over every single one of his stupid rules was that if she met anyone, never to talk about him. She clapped a hand over her mouth, her eyes going wide as she panicked. She'd broken the cardinal rule. She looked at the paper Bobby was frantically scribbling on and in a moment of mad impulse grabbed it and hopped out of the chair, making a run for the door.
"Hope no! Bring that back right now!" Bobby shouted after her, his creaky knees complaining as he chased her out of the kitchen and through the front door into the junk yard.
Hope barely ever cried, her dad had always told her off for crying, said it was beneath her, but right now she didn't care. She raced through the abandoned motors, ducking under bits of rusting car until she found a suitable nook to wedge herself into and with a grunt pulled a piece of rusty old corrugated metal over the opening. With shaking hands she began tearing pages out of the notebook, ripping them into tiny pieces and letting them fall into pile at her feet as she choked back gut wrenching sobs. Now she'd done it! Dad always told her she had to stay calm and not let her emotions get the better of her, that they were a weakness she had to learn to control. She had let them get the better of her and she'd said too much! Now these kind people who'd taken her in wouldn't be kind anymore, they'd cut into her like her dad had warned.
"Hope!" She heard Bobby's voice in the distance and tried to get her breathing under control, not wanting him to hear the sobs that currently shook her tiny frame. She had to get a grip, crying was for the weak. She used the sleeve of her hoody to clean her face and settled her features into a determined scowl.
"Hope where are you?" Dean's voice now. She tilted her ear towards the noise, her expression softening slightly as she picked up an element of fear in the question. Fear for her safety, or fear of her... She didn't know.
"Hope come on, it's not safe out here on your own!" His voice was closer now, too close. Carefully she shoved the piece of metal out of the way, wincing as it creaked loudly and made a dash for it across the expanse of dirt road to get to a new hiding place before he rounded the corner, but was just a fraction too slow. Dean instantly picked up into a sprint as you flashed passed in his peripherals.
"Hope stop running! It's me!" He shouted, diving under a car after her. His hand wrapped around her ankle and sighed in relief as he pulled her back out, thrashing.
"Let me go please don't hurt me please don't hurt me." She repeated, her eyes squeezed shut. Dean panicked and yanked her up into his arms, clutching her tight to his chest. He had never seen her freak out like this, not even when she'd had a demon dragging her through a grocery store.
"Why would I hurt you?" He demanded, tightening his grip as she tried to squirm free.
"Bobby I found her! Come quick! Calm down Hope, we're not gonna hurt you! Jesus you are strong for an eight year old..."
Bobby rounded the corner and dropped to his knees beside them, putting a reassuring hand on the back of her head as he made soothing noises.
"Hey hey hey! Calm down kid, you're safe! I gave you my word didn't I?" Hope buried her face into Dean's shoulder and nodded, her breathing coming fast and hard.
"But my dad said-" Bobby cut her of with a string of curse words that were impressive enough to shock her into looking up at him in awe for a second before burying her face back into Dean's shirt.
"Well it sure sounds like your daddy said a lot of damn stupid things if you ask me." He grumbled, looking around and spotting the heap of torn notes which elicited another bout of cursing.
"Urgh! I hadn't written most of those notes up yet... Damn it... Come on kid, I promise not to ask any more questions today if you just come back inside and stop destroying my work..." She didn't reply just stayed concealed in the faded black material of Dean's old t-shirt.
"Umm... I'll let you... take one of my pocket knives, if you promise to be careful. Would you feel safe then?" He bartered, fishing in his pockets for the smaller of his two flick knives. It was nothing special and certainly wouldn't do too much damage in the hands of an eight year old, it was however solid silver and fairly pricey but if it calmed her down he was happy to sacrifice it to the cause. Hesitantly Hope turned her face just enough to see him out of the corner of one eye and nodded, holding out her hand for the knife. Bobby dropped it onto her palm and took a step back, his hands up to show he held nothing as she turned herself fully away from Dean, still resting against him as she inspected the blade. Satisfied, she shoved the knife into her pocket, keeping her fist clenched tight around it.
"Sorry..." She mumbled, looking in the complete opposite direction of him, up at the house. The old hunter shook his head and grunted.
"For tearing up my notes or getting yourself in a state because that sure escalated quickly. You're pretty fast..." He chuckled quietly to himself and slapped a hand onto Dean's free shoulder, using it to heave himself up from the floor with a groan and limp back towards the house.
Hope looked up apologetically at Dean and sighed, her old scratches on her face aching from the salty tears and dust that was creeping in at the edges. She lifted a hand to scratch at them but Dean gently batted it away with a tired smile.
"I panicked..." She muttered, looking just past his head instead of at him. Dean chuckled softly and looked down.
"Wow, you are settling in fine as a Winchester, we're all completely screwed up and terrible with this feelings crap..." He hesitated and sighed, not really equipped at 14 years old to be having this conversation but trying to find the words anyway.
"Look, Hope... We've known you were... different from the moment dad found you, two whole months ago. Don't you think if we were going to hurt you we'd have done it by now?" She shuffled her feet awkwardly in the dirt and nodded, still not making eye contact.
"Sure, we kinda need to find out what we can about you, just so we can learn how to protect you, so we can understand. I swear, us Winchesters protect our family and you're a Winchester now whether you like it or not." He ruffled her hair and stood up, pulling her close to his side in a show of brotherly rough love and leading her back up to the house.
"Come on, I know where Bobby hides the ice cream."
Hope you guys liked it! Finally finding out a little more about Hope's past!
If you have a moment please drop me a review, I love to hear feedback :)
Much love!
Liné