Chapter 5

John started taking his lunch break at the diner on Main St. He didn't get much conversation out of Liz during the rush but the squeeze of his shoulder in passing was needed during the days when he wanted to pick up and leave town just for wanderlust's sake. He had promised to help solve the mystery of Liz and he would.

Occasionally, Liz took her break at his table and divulged little things she had discovered during the day. Little of it useful. "So, I hate mayo. I think I must have always hated mayo." She'd prop her feet up on his leg, stretch and say something like, "I know every song on the jukebox. Every one. Even the new ones." Sometimes, he'd work a half day and he'd take Liz and Sammy to lunch in the school cafeteria so that Dean could be like the other kids.

John caught the looks from Angela, the diner's owner. He knew what she thought of him. Maybe he had punched out her brother in his bar once. He was drunk and mad but it was six months ago and they needed to move on. Liz dropped a slice of fresh pecan pie off at his table and "So, I made this really awesome thing today."

John stared at the small rug she handed him. "You made this."

"Yeah, I was playing with this toy this little girl left here and I made that… Looks… I don't know…"

"This is Native American. Couldn't tell you what tribe." He shrugged. "Maybe you grew up near a reservation."

"Maybe." She tilted her head. "There are a lot of those… all over though, right?"

"Yeah, and not really so much in this part of Minnesota." John studied the lines and shapes. "Doesn't look like anything from this part of the country, actually."

"Hm… Interesting. I'm not from around here." Liz walked off to bus her tables. He rolled his eyes and tucked into his pie. Women. He was never going to understand them. Never in a hundred years.

--

Liz stroked Dean's hair out of his face and he let her. "Your dad will come and get us, Dean." He nodded against her chest. She was some babysitter. Came on foot to pick up Dean, who was so sick that he couldn't walk. She had fallen and twisted her ankle when she attempted to carry him. It was, so far, a perfect day; sitting in front of the elementary school with a sick boy in her arms, her ankle throbbing, waiting on a man with no clue. No clue at all.

The Impala rumbled into her bones before she even caught sight of it. John leapt out of the driver's side. "What happened?"

"He's running a fever and I've incapacitated myself as a waitress and a babysitter." She showed off her black and purple ankle.

"Okay, so to the house it is." John picked up Dean first and settled him in the passenger seat. When he turned to collect Liz, he found her on her feet. "Don't be stupid. You can't walk on that." He scooped her up and carried her to the car.

Liz rolled her eyes. No clue at all. She endured the ride to Pastor Jim's. Let John cave-man her into the house. She and Dean ended up on the couch in the den. Her foot up on the arm with an ice pack and Dean in her arms with a blanket and the remote. He made a face when he took the medicine doled out by the Pastor but didn't complain… much. She read him story after story. Made some up when she ran out of books within reach.

Sometime that afternoon, she heard John and Jim talking from the other room. Dean was draped all over her, fast asleep. She had no hope of getting up for a better listen. John's voice boomed. "I've looked everywhere. The only thing that we had was that stupid potholder she made. They say it's common. Any idiot with a practice loom can make one. It doesn't mean anything."

"John… maybe we found her for a reason." Jim tried to calm John but John wasn't having it.

"Like what? We know nothing about her. Her description hasn't tripped alarms anywhere. She just crawled out of a grave… one that wasn't even hers."

"John… Maybe some cruel man misused her until he couldn't anymore. Maybe he thought he killed her. Maybe he buried her any convenient place to be rid of her." He let out a ragged breath. "A good soul like hers, I've not seen in years. Not in our world. She reads the books with us. Sees the darkness and still, she can see the light. Let her be, John. Don't force her to recall what she shouldn't."

"You would condemn her to wander through her life not knowing what has brought her here?"

"I would let her build a new life with people who care about her."

Liz hugged Dean to her chest and willed sleep to come upon her again. Anything not to be the subject of such a heated argument. Anything to forget that she had forgotten. Then Sammy toddled into the room, gaining speed as he went to give her kisses. "Hi Sammy."

Wet Sammy kisses all over her forehead. She couldn't help but laugh. "Yiz."

"What'd you say?"

"Yiz, Yiz." Sammy slobbered another kiss onto her nose.

"Sammy?" John turned the corner and tilted his head at the picture before him. "Worse than water boarding, huh."

Liz laughed as Sammy was picked up and deposited on his father's knee when John sat on the floor next to the couch. John rubbed the back of his hand over Dean's forehead. "Still high?"

"Feels the same." John nodded then turned to examine her ankle. "Swelling's down."

"Feels better."

Jim watched them from the doorway. The way John's hand slid from her ankle to her knee, massaging as she ribbed him for being such a sucker for his kids. Dean started to wake up at the sound of their laughter. Liz covered John's mouth to keep from waking him fully.

"I'll trade you." John set Sammy down and picked up Dean. "Come on, son. Time for bed and more medicine."

Liz sat up and let Sammy climb onto the couch next to her. He picked up a book and gave it to her. "Of course, young man. Sammy must have his story time, too."

She was restricted to the couch much of the evening. Having her very own Winchester chauffeur to the bathroom and to the dinner table. Pastor Jim eventually took over Sammy duty and let John relax downstairs before Dean eventually woke up crying. Liz lay on the couch with her feet propped up on his thigh, his hands massaging the bruised flesh.

It was late. Sammy in John's bed, asleep. Dean in the boys' bed, knocked out on Children's Tylenol. Pastor Jim had long taken to his study for research, leaving John and Liz to Johnny Carson on low volume. Finally, Liz had to say something. It had been building all day and she hadn't known it until that moment. Sitting up and taking her foot back, she laid a hand on his shoulder to get his attention. "John."

"You should keep the foot elevated until the swelling is completely gone." He chided without breaking his sights from Johnny's harassment of some poor guest.

"In a minute, John." She squeezed his arm where it lay on the back off the couch. His face swung around to fix his gaze on her, all furrowed eyebrows and concerned hazel eyes. "I've been thinking… and… I know that you and Jim promised that you were going to figure out where I came from or help get my memory back but…"

"I will." He promised, turning his body to face hers.

"John, I know that you would have rather left two months ago. I could see it in your face that day I woke up. Don't let me keep you here. I know that you have things to do." She shrugged helplessly. "I may never remember and the way things are going… I don't really want to."

He looked away, rolling his shoulders in that awkward position. "Dean's just started in school again. He's just caught up… I don't want to let him fall behind again."

Liz stared at him. It was lame excuse disguised as a good excuse. She could tell from the way his eyes wandered. "Okay, good. He needs that. He's doing so well." And that was just as lame. "Just… don't feel like you have to waste all your down time on me."

"You don't… want to know?" He fixed her with that stare. The one that drove her nuts and to distraction and out of her freaking mind.

"No. I don't know. Maybe I don't." She shrugged. "I'm enjoying myself, John. I like waitressing here. The people in Blue Earth are so nice. I love Jim to death… and I love your kids. I can honestly say that I will never be the same due just to your boys." She smiled softly and nudged him in the ribs with her fist. "I honestly love our lunches with Dean at school. He's just such an amazing boy and he saves it all for you. The second you walk in the door, it's like… his faces lights up and he beams it out. "That's my Dad." Capital D… and it's so… wonderful to see with all the crap he watches on TV and all the heroes he wants to be like… and you're still the top of his list. Over Superman and Batman and… all the rest."

John felt his face go a deep red. "Well, I'm no Superman, that's for certain."

"Well, to some people you are." She really smiled, hooking her finger in around a button on his shirt to continue ribbing him. "He listens to every word you say and he commits it to memory. I've never seen a boy love his father so much."

John wrapped his hand around hers to cease her knuckling his chest and let loose a harsh laugh. "Yeah, I know. It worries me sometimes."

"Really?"

"After the way we lost his mother… I feel like now his whole focus is on me because he… maybe he thinks if he loves me enough, he won't lose me too." He dropped her hand to rub the wetness out of his eyes.

"It hasn't really been that long, John. Give him time to adjust to life without her. Give yourself time." She cupped his face to make him look at her. "John, despite the inclinations of a certain six-year-old, you are only human."

John slid his hand over her hand. She bit her lip, tilting her face against his arm. She might have opened her mouth to say his name, to protest, but no sound came. Not when his other hand cupped the back of her head. Not when his face was inches from hers. Not until they were sharing the same breath. "John…"

His lips slid over hers, pressing and urging her mouth to open. Liz grasped at his shoulder to keep him near, so she could be closer. Her breath shuddered out of her before she inhaled nothing but John. Felt the couch beneath her back but then nothing but John covering her. Then it all came to a screeching halt.

"Daddy…" the whine came from the staircase.

John broke from her mouth to look to his sick son. Then he was on his feet and scooping Dean up to take him to the kitchen. Liz took a moment to collect her breath before hobbling after them. She watched John pop the thermometer into Dean's mouth while he measured out more medicine. "Look alive, dude. Gotta get that temp down."

Liz smiled bitterly then started her long trek upstairs, using the banister to keep her weight off her foot. She had just settled herself in bed with her foot on a pillow when she heard them down the hall. Dean whining that he could walk on his own. Dean swearing that he was never taking that yucky medicine again. Dean complaining that he wanted to sleep in John's bed and not Sammy. The rumble of John's voice as he softly answered questions and gave orders.

Liz listened in the dark as John tried to settle Dean back into sleep. The boy resisted and whined. Then Sammy woke up and John sounded so out of sorts that she hobbled down to his room where he had Dean in his arms and a hand on Sammy's back. He looked so close to tears the floods almost broke behind her eyes. It was all too much to take in one night. She hobbled in, kissed John's mouth softly, then picked up Sammy to take to her room. John made to protest but she put a finger to his lips and kept walking, or limping rather, back to her room.

Sammy settled comfortably in the cooler, quieter room, allowing Liz to prop her foot up once more. She didn't know when exactly she fell asleep but when she woke, Sammy was already gone. She limped down to John's room but found it empty. When she made it downstairs, she found Dean curled up on the couch with a mug of tea and Sammy feeding John cereal on the floor and cartoons on the TV.

John looked like he'd gotten a little sleep at least. She hobbled in and kissed Dean's much cooler forehead. He was so tired, he didn't bother to wipe it off. Liz settled next to John on the floor, socked foot on the coffee table, and let Sammy feet her a handful of cereal. She tilted her head at John. "Long night?"

"Not as long as it could have been." He admitted. "Thanks for taking Sammy."

"How do you do this on the road, John?"

"I… lose my temper. I yell at the boys. I make them cry and we all pass out, miserable and sick."

Further conversation was halted by Sammy's potty needs. Dean chose that moment to snap to attention. He stared hard at Liz on the floor next to the couch. "My mom was a tall lady. You're not as tall as she was."

"Really?" Liz blinked at him.

"She had gold hair and eyes like me. Yours are brown."

"Yep. I do not look like your mom, then." She shook her head, slanting a glance at him.

"My dad kissed her all the time."

"I'll bet." Narrowed her eyes at him.

"My dad says he'll always love my mom. My mom's best friend says that my mom is always gonna watch out for me and my dad and Sammy. She's always going to be with us."

Another child, with a more innocent voice, would have been endearing in those words. Liz felt she was being threatened by Dean's tone, by the expression on his face but the wet in his eyes reminded her that he was six years old and had seen his mother die at far too young an age. He was marking his territory in a manner far older than his years but was clinging to the emotions of the child he really was. Turning to face him, Liz rubbed his chest, playfully. "Yes, she will. Think it's okay if I help her out?"

"How?" He narrowed his eyes at her.

"Your mom might be an angel and all but… we can't see her. We can't touch her."

"Yeah, so?"

"What if… she wants to give you a hug?" Liz watched his eyes fill and immediately felt bad for trying this tack. "Can I give you one for her?"

"How do I know if it's a hug from her… or a hug from you?" His eyes dried quickly, as if they were never going to spill over to begin with.

"Why can't it be from both of us?"

"Cause you didn't know my mom." His chin jutted out and his lips came together in a deep pout.

"No, but I know you and I know your dad."

"Well, he's my dad and you better keep your hands off."

"Dean…" She sighed and let it be about what it was really about. "Your dad and I are friends-"

"He's too old for you."

That made her laugh because it was partly true. If she was anywhere as young as she looked, then it was possible that John had at least 10 years on her. She really wanted to rub his face in something good but had to remind herself that he was six and he was afraid his father was going to forget his mother. "I will make you a deal."

"What kind of deal?"

"We'll spit shake on it." Somewhere in her memory, she knew the importance of spit-shakes to little boys.

"What are your terms?" Dean set his mug on the coffee table.

"I won't kiss him first."

"What's that mean?"

"If anyone kisses anybody. Your dad will have to kiss me first. I will not kiss him first. I will not make the first move."

"And you can't make him want to kiss you." Dean laid out his terms.

"What if he kisses me anyway?"

"If he's sick, he's excused. Dad says high fevers cause hallucinations."

"You are one smart kid." Liz spit on her hand and held it out. "I won't kiss first. I won't make him want to kiss me and… any fever-induced kisses will be ruled null and void and I will not interpret as kissing first."

"Deal." He hocked a wad into his hand and slapped it against hers in a firm shake.

"Deal." She looked him over. Tough little guy. "Let's go wash up and check your temp and see if Pastor Jim wants us to do anything for him today."

"I'm tired." Dean shook his head.

"Okay, sleepyhead."

"I think Sammy's getting the hang of this potty chair business." John's voice boomed into the room before he and Sammy appeared. Sammy riding high on his father's shoulders. He looked between the two of them. "Did we miss something?"

"Um…" Liz looked to Dean. "Dean was just telling me about this angel who watches over him. Some… tall, blonde lady… answers to the name of Mom." She felt Dean tense but reached over and ruffled his hair. "I was just saying how lucky he must be to have his own angel."

John's smile faded a bit and he flipped a giggly Sammy onto the ground. "Yeah, Dean's pretty lucky." He nodded to the boys. "Can you keep an eye on them? I gotta go in for a couple of hours at the shop."

"Yeah." Liz frowned up at him. "Sure."

TBC