I do not own Supernatural or any of the characters in it apart from the ones that come from my own imagination, some information is from the Supernatural Wiki, and of course all errors are mine. Enjoy!
*Please note that I've only gotten about halfway through season seven of Supernatural and I realized that I somehow missed a couple episodes in the previous seasons (smacks head against desk).*
Author's Little Blurb: I apologize for how long it took me to write this chapter, it was the hardest one yet due to many reasons including problems with the action scene-including not originally planning on having one, having to go back and redo other areas so that the story flowed better, and then just trying to make sure I kept the characters in character, even while exploring more of their not-much-shown sides. I do hope you like this chapter!
Three: Take it Easy
Sara gritted her teeth, though she couldn't keep a moan of pain from escaping past her teeth as Sam put Aloe Vera on the last of her burns.
"Done," he said, setting the plant aside.
"I hate salamanders," Sara muttered darkly, knowing she wouldn't get any sleep that night.
Sam said, "Those fire spirits do get pretty nasty." He glared at Dean, who was sound asleep on the motel room couch. He should be the one doing this! Looking back at Sara, he could see the exhaustion all over her face, and he had to admit, he was pretty tired as well.
For a month now, the three of them had been hunting almost non-stop, and it was definitely starting to tell on them, their reaction times were slower, hence Sara and Dean's burns.
Half tempted to awaken his brother by putting Aloe Vera on his burned hand, Sam decided against it. Dean could treat his own burns tomorrow morning and grouch at Sam for not waking him up then.
"Try and get some sleep," Sam said to Sara, who gave him such a comical expression he had to turn away so that he didn't laugh. Sitting down at the table, he glared at his laptop, if there is another case we need to take I'm going to fling this thing across the room and pretend I didn't see anything. I'll tell Dean that I dropped it or tripped in the night and sent it sliding across the table onto the floor!
Reluctantly, Sam flipped up the laptop and went to work searching for any type of indication that a town or an area had something supernatural going on. Several hours into his work, Sam noted that Sara had managed to go to sleep, though in quite an odd position, resembling a seal sun bathing on a rock, at least she found a comfortable position to sleep in with those burns… Focusing back on scouring for any signs of the supernatural, he worked until morning, Dean and Sara both sometimes awakening briefly to adjust their positions, but otherwise they got some sleep.
Dean woke up when the sun shone through one of the windows directly onto his face. Sitting up he inhaled sharply, he then exhaled, "Son of a bitch!" Looking at Sam, he demanded, "Why didn't you wake me so I could put something on my burns?"
"I figured you needed the rest," Sam muttered wearily, closing his laptop.
Applying Aloe Vera to his burns, Dean managed to ask in a normal tone, "Anything?"
"Nothing that I noticed," Sam yawned.
Dean nodded in approval before he gingerly pulled off his shirt to get at the burn on his right shoulder, "Good! Hopefully when we go to Bobby's he won't have anything for us either!"
Not commenting on Dean's unusual want of rest, Sam stood up, "I'm going to try and get a bit of sleep before we head out."
"You'll get plenty of sleep on the way there," Dean muttered. "It's not exactly a short drive from Georgia to South Dakota!"
"I'm still going to try and sleep!" Sam repeated, flopping onto the only bed. He was asleep within seconds.
Shaking his head, Dean put his shirt back on, grimacing in pain. Sitting down on the couch, he tried to find a comfortable position, but to no avail, "Son of a bitch!"
Hearing her father's favorite saying, Sara woke up, sitting up slowly so as not to aggravate her burns. Even with all her caution, she still winced in pain.
"You look about as well as I'm feeling," Dean commented.
Sara stood up, gasping at the pain, "I really, really, really hate salamanders!"
Chuckling, Dean's tone was serious as he said, "I'm glad you had my back there, but next time don't tackle a fire spirit."
This had them both laughing, since Sara had indeed tackled the spirit to distract it from torching her father. It had worked, just not quite how she'd planned. Dean's burns were worse than hers though, and he had more of them from being taken off guard by the elemental.
Nodding to his wallet, Dean said, "Why don't you go and get some breakfast, make sure to pick up something for Sammy as well."
"Will do," Sara said, walking over to where her father's wallet was sitting on the table. "I'll be back in a bit!"
Walking outside, Sara felt pretty at ease…at first, but as she neared the grocery store, she felt like she was being watched. Hand going slowly towards where she kept her pistol in her jacket, she whipped it out and spun around, but there was nothing behind her, or anywhere for that matter. Frowning, she continued walking, though she was noticeably tenser, and she definitely wasn't relieved when she entered the store. Quickly finding things for her father, Sam, and herself to eat, she paid for them and walked back outside, still on edge. Rounding the corner to start heading towards the hotel, she stopped dead in her tracks, a massive Rottweiler blocking her path.
"Oh crap…!"
An hour later, Sam awoke to Dean slamming his fist against a wall. "What's up?" Sam asked reflexively.
"Remind me to give my daughter a cell phone so I don't worry about her when she doesn't show up after being gone an hour!" Dean snapped.
Sam yawned, "I'm sure she's fine."
"The grocery store is only a few blocks away," Dean said skeptically. "It doesn't take an hour to get a simple breakfast from one either!"
"Long line," Sam suggested.
"Forget it, I'm going to go look for her," Dean threw on his jacket and opened the door, not closing properly.
Sighing, Sam got up and went to close it, he heard Dean outside suddenly shout, "No! No! No! No! No!" Dashing outside, Sam saw what was causing Dean to shout.
Sitting on the sidewalk was Sara, beside her, was a behemoth of a Rottweiler, its head was several inches above Sara's.
"That's a massive dog," Sam muttered.
Sara stroked the dog's smooth black and brown fur, looking up at her father pleading, "Please, Dad, he's really gentle!"
"No! That thing is not coming with us!"
"I'd take care of him," Sara tried to argue.
Dean shook his head, "The only way that thing is getting into my car is if I'm taking it to the pound!"
Putting her arms around the dog's neck, Sara showed she could be just as stubborn as her father, "He's not going to the pound!"
"It's not going to be travelling all over the frickin' country with us either!"
Before things could get really heated between the two, Sam suggested to Dean, "Why don't we take the dog to Bobby's? I'm sure Bobby wouldn't mind the dog." Sam looked at his niece to help him out.
"I'd be okay with that, Dad," Sara said. "I bet Bruce would like it there!"
"You gave it a name," Dean muttered in despair, knowing he was really didn't stand a chance now. "Fine. The dog can go to Bobby's but that's where it's staying!"
Nodding Sara rubbed the dog's shoulders, the Rottweiler, dubbed Bruce, panted happily, drool dribbling from his jowls.
Once on the road, and in the car, Dean sat in stony silence, not happy in any way, shape, or form as Bruce drooled all over his beloved Impala and on him, since Bruce had decided that Dean's shoulder was a good place to set his head. I'm going to kill this dog, Dean thought, his grip on the steering wheel tightening all the further. He couldn't believe he was breaking his own rule of no dogs in the car.
"Bruce!" Sara said, and the Rottweiler lifted its head, shifting positions so that it was now laying down, his massive head in Sara's lap as she scratched his ears, trying to make sure the dog didn't annoy her father any more than he already had.
Sam asked Sara for the hundredth time, annoying her and Dean, "You sure he's a stray?"
"Yes, you can see and feel his ribs, his coat's dirty, need I say more?" Sara questioned.
"Just double checking!" Sam defended himself.
Dean muttered, "I've never wanted to be somewhere so badly before."
"Hey, it could be worse," Sam stated.
"How could it be worse?" Dean demanded. "We have to stop at every rest stop to make sure the dog relieves itself, the dog usually ends up peeing on my car, it's going to take us even longer to get to Bobby's, and it keeps getting its slobber all over the place!"
To say the least, it was a very silent and tense ride up to Bobby's.
Two days later, Dean had never been happier to pull up at Bobby's. Sara quickly opened her door to let Bruce out, and Sam hurriedly got out of the car. As Sara started go out, Dean said, "If Bobby doesn't have any cases for us, you're helping me to clean this car up."
"Okay, Dad," Sara said, trying to keep her tone neutral. Her father obviously thought that helping him clean up the Impala would be a chore, but she didn't consider it that. Not when it meant spending time with him.
Dean had to admit as he got out of the car and watched Bruce trot around Bobby's property and pee on just about every car Bobby had sitting out, the Rottweiler did have a certain humor about him. "I think I can see why you like him so much," he teased.
Sara bumped against his side, glad that her father was back to his usual self now that the prospect of the Impala being dog-free and clean once more was looking brighter.
A grouchy voice shouted from the house, "What in the hell is that dog doing here?"
Dean and Sam both smiled. They'd never be tired of hearing Bobby's voice after losing him once when he'd been shot by a leviathan.
Sam was the one who answered Bobby, "We thought you might like to keep him."
"He'll have to learn some manners first," Bobby grumbled as he came to stand beside Sam, straightening his ball cap.
Sara leaned forward a bit so she could see past her father to get a better look at Bobby Singer, who she'd heard so much about. Bobby was an inch or two shorter than her father, and he had a rugged look about him, his beard and mustache adding to the affect along with his clothes of a vest and a long sleeved, plaid shirt.
"Who's this," Bobby questioned as he spotted Sara.
Dean answered, "This is my daughter, Sara. Sara, this is Bobby."
"Just how old are you?" Bobby asked her, causing Dean to give him an exasperated look.
Sara answered, "Thirteen, soon to be fourteen."
Bobby grunted in acknowledgment of her answer, his gaze thoughtful, which really perplexed Sam and Dean. "Well, why don't you come in?"
Deciding that he'd ask Bobby about the random age question later, Dean asked, "You don't have any jobs for us, do you?"
"No, I would have told you if I did, Idjit," Bobby answered.
Sara had already started to head towards the house when Dean grabbed her shoulder, mindful of where her still healing burns were, "You and I have a car to clean."
Leaving Sara and Dean to work on getting the Impala back to her glorious, clean state, Bobby muttered to himself, "Let's see how smart this dog is." Whistling, he watched as Bruce's head shot up and then the Rottweiler came bounding towards him, luckily for both Bobby and Bruce, the massive dog slid to a halt instead of jumping on Bobby.
"Wow," Sam said. "He seems pretty well trained."
"That or he just knows when he's getting a meal."
After getting all the supplies he needed from Bobby's garage, Dean said, "We'll start with the exterior and then work on the interior." He tossed his daughter one of the washing gloves and set to work.
Glad that her father was definitely in a better mood, Sara set to work as well, watching how Dean went about washing the car so she could see what he was doing, and to avoid getting a lecture on proper car washing.
While Dean went about washing the Impala, his mind was on other matters, two days until August 21st…God! What am I going to do for her birthday?! Glancing towards his daughter, he was glad to see that she was being as meticulous in cleaning the Impala as he was. Dean had to admit he'd found it odd that his daughter hadn't said or even hinted at anything to do with her birthday, but then again, his daughter tended to surprise him a lot, like tackling a fire spirit for instance!
"Anything come in yet from Jody?" Sam questioned Bobby as they both watched Dean and Sara washing the Impala.
Bobby said, exasperated, "No. Nothing's come in from Jody for you. What the hell are you waiting to get from her? A Christmas present?"
"No," Sam said. "It's a DNA test result on whether or not Sara is really Dean's daughter."
"Does Dean know?" Bobby asked.
"Not exactly."
"Sam!"
Sam threw up his hands, "Really?! You too?! Am I the only one who thinks that it might be better if we knew she was really his daughter?"
"Have you looked at your brother recently?" Bobby demanded, gesturing out the window at Dean, "I can't recall the last time I saw that boy so relaxed! Can you?! Why would you want to go and ruin that for him?!"
"I don't want to ruin it for him!" Sam tried to explain, "If she really isn't his daughter, then she can have a chance at a normal life!"
"Normal, huh?" Bobby asked skeptically.
"At least it might make him more willing to consider the fact that she could live a regular life," Sam said. "And maybe…maybe he'll let her actually lead a normal life then."
"Sam…"
"Bobby, you haven't seen how he's been treating her the past month! It's like she's just a soldier in training to him!"
Looking out the window, Bobby watched as Dean sprayed his daughter with water from the hose, and feigned innocence. "Do you really think whether she's his daughter by blood or not will really matter to him that much?"
When Sam looked out the window, all he saw was Dean and Sara washing the Impala, and though he noted that Sara's clothes were a bit wet, he assumed she'd leaned against the car a couple times while cleaning it. "Yeah, I do."
"Boy, I think you'd be better in just leaving well enough alone on this subject," Bobby muttered. "But you've already got one foot in the fire, why not put the other one in?!"
"So you don't think I'm doing the right thing?" Sam asked, feeling a bit hurt. He'd been hoping that Bobby would agree with his reasoning.
Bobby shook his head, "In this case? No, Sam."
Two hours later, Dean was lying under the Impala giving her a tune-up. Sara sat on the sparse grass; Bruce was lying beside her on his side, looking beyond content as she absentmindedly stroked him.
Sliding out from under the Impala to grab another tool, Dean commented, "That dog definitely isn't guard dog material."
Bruce lifted his head, looking quite indignant, though he still looked comical, since he was still on his side.
"Why would he need to be a good guard dog?" Sara asked.
Sliding back under the car, Dean said, "Because that's what Bobby's last dog was."
"What makes you think he's not guard dog material?" Sara questioned.
"Well…he followed you from the store, didn't bark at either me or Sam, even when I was yelling, and he ran up to Bobby when he whistled," Dean explained.
Sara continued to pet Bruce, "Maybe he's just a good judge of character."
"Yeah, and I'm an airplane pilot," Dean muttered.
Knowing it was pointless to argue with her father further on the subject, she just remained silent, figuring her father would continue speaking. It took several minutes, during which Bruce lay his head back down and dozed off, "Since we're going to get a couple days rest…what do you want to do?"
"What do you mean?" Sara asked, perplexed by her father's question.
Dean slid out from under the Impala once more to look at her, "You know, is there anything you want to do for fun?"
"Just me and you?" she tried to clarify.
"If you want; it doesn't matter to me."
"Um…" Sara really had no clue what to say. "I don't know…"
"Let me know when you do think of something," Dean said, sliding back under the car.
My dad is really weird sometimes… Sara decided.
Her father slid out from under the car a few seconds later and stood up, looking quite pleased, "Well…that's done!" His gaze went to Bruce as the Rottweiler sat up suddenly and huffed. "What's wrong with him?"
Sara pointed down the driveway, looking a bit worried, "That."
Looking in the direction she was pointing, Dean spotted the police car pulling up, but he wasn't worried, "Don't worry, kiddo, it's just Bobby's friend, the sheriff."
As Sara stood up, so did Bruce, though the dog didn't seem concerned as the sheriff, a woman, stepped out of the car and greeted Dean warmly, "Hi, Dean. I didn't expect to see you here…you're not here for any particular reason that I should know about…are you?"
"Nope," Dean answered. "Just here to visit with Bobby, sheriff."
Smiling, the sheriff, a woman with brown hair and eyes, spotted Sara, and asked, "Just who is this?"
Dean was a bit uncomfortable as he answered, "My daughter, Sara."
"Really," the sheriff said, giving him a hard look.
"Yeah," Dean said, giving his charming smile to the sheriff before he said to his daughter, "Sara, this is Sheriff Jody Mills."
"Nice to meet you," Sara said.
Jody continued to give Dean a hard look for a few more seconds before addressing Sara, "It's nice to meet you as well…" She paused as Bruce trotted up to her and sniffed at her, though his stance wasn't aggressive in any way, "And who is this?"
"Bruce," Sara answered.
Jody let Bruce sniff her hand before she patted his large head, "Is he yours?"
"No, Bobby's," Dean answered for Sara.
"I see…" Jody murmured. Reaching into her car, she pulled out an envelope, "Well, I'd better deliver this to Bobby."
"Right," Dean said, smiling until Jody had walked past and was near the house. He watched the sheriff enter, a thoughtful look in his eyes.
Noticing her father's expression, Sara asked, "Is something wrong, Dad?"
It took a few seconds before Dean answered, "No. Not at all."
Sheriff Mills let herself in, startling both Bobby and Sam. "Thought I'd give this to you personally now that I know you're here," she said, setting the envelope down in front of Sam.
"Thanks," Sam said, accepting the envelope.
"I take it the DNA was from your brother and your niece," Jody stated.
"Yeah…" Sam said warily.
Jody shrugged off her jacket, making it clear she would be staying for a while, "Don't worry. I didn't say anything to Dean."
Sam nodded before he opened the envelope.
Bobby noticed how haggard the sheriff looked, "Rough day?"
"You could say that," she said, plopping herself into a chair at the table.
Momentarily distracted from the envelope's contents, Sam asked, "Anything we can do to help?"
Jody laughed, "This isn't in your area of expertise this time, Sam."
"What's going on?" Bobby asked, his interest piqued.
"I suppose if you must know, three brothers decided that they wanted to do their own version of the Winchester brothers' slaughter along a highway…" Jody stated.
Sam felt the need to say, "You do know that that wasn't us, but some monsters impersonating us?"
"Oh, I know," Jody reassured him. "It's just that these guys don't. Plus, they've put their own twist on things, murdering a whole block's worth of families while they're in town before moving on, and they're not very photogenic."
"So you have no idea what they look like?" Bobby asked, sounding incredulous.
Jody sighed, "We have a very vague idea due to some pictures some witnesses have managed to take of them."
"And you're positive they aren't monsters?" Sam asked.
"Oh, they're monsters," Jody stated, her voice cold, "Just not your kind."
Just then, Dean walked in with Sara, Bruce trotting in, hurriedly, after them.
"Dog knows whose sympathies he's got," Bobby commented.
Dean glanced at the dog, "And it ain't mine." He noticed how they were sitting at the table, and he commented, "Are we interrupting something?"
"Nope," Jody said, giving him a meaningful look. "Bobby was just offering me a drink, weren't you, Bobby?"
"Yeah," Bobby said, getting up and walking over to the fridge.
Sam suddenly said, getting up as he set down the envelope, "I just remember there was something I needed to do." As he set the envelope down, he discreetly slid it across the table.
The moment Dean saw the envelope he grabbed it quickly and said, a trace of anger showing in his voice, "Hey!" Sam turned around, feigning innocence. "Take this with you!" Sam accepted the envelope and walked out of the room.
Sara was a bit confused as to what had just happened between her father and uncle, though she knew it had something to do with the contents of the envelope. "Dad…?" she asked cautiously, not wanting to aggravate him further.
Dean ran his right hand over his face, trying to think of what to say to get his daughter out of the room so he could speak with Jody, Bobby, and eventually, Sam, "Why don't you go work on that homework Sammy gave you the other day?"
"Sure," Sara said, knowing better than to argue against the suggestion. Bruce followed her, seemingly like her shadow.
Once she was out of the room and earshot, Dean said coldly to Jody, "So just here to see Bobby."
Jody met his gaze evenly, "Yes. I didn't know what Sam wanted with the DNA until I got here. I didn't even know who the samples belonged to until I saw you with her today."
"Lay off, Dean," Bobby said, returning from the kitchen with three beers.
"Sorry," Dean murmured to Jody, accepting the beer, though he didn't sit down. "Why are you here though?" Jody repeated what she'd said to Bobby and Sam, "So some psychopaths are due in town…need our help?"
"No," Jody answered. "I've got all my guys on it along with extra help from the feds. So you'd do best to lie low while you're in town."
"Sounds fine to me," Dean said, taking a swig from his beer. "Let us know if anything changes, you know we'll help."
Jody smiled, "I know you boys would." Getting up, she put on her jacket, sliding her unopened beer back to Bobby, "Thanks for the offer, Bobby, but I need to get back to town."
"Keep in touch," Bobby said as Jody left.
The door had barely closed behind the sheriff before Dean snapped, "You knew about that DNA test Sam got and you didn't tell me?"
"Oh, get the stick out of your ass!" Bobby snapped right back. "I only knew Sam had something being sent here! He didn't tell me till today about what it was!"
Dean closed his eyes, trying to rein in his temper, "You're right, Bobby…I shouldn't be blaming you…" He sighed heavily. As he opened his eyes he took another swig from the bottle, "I guess I should have known this was coming…I mean I gave him the damn hairs from both of us…I just hoped he wouldn't go through with it…"
"You know he means well," Bobby said quietly.
Dean gave him such a resigned look, "Yeah…but I also know what he'll ask of me if that test proves she's not mine…and I can't bear to be parted from that kid again…I just can't, Bobby…"
Sam sat on the couch, knowing full well what was coming. Glancing at the envelope, he sighed. I wonder if I can even convince him to at least look at it… He glanced at the door as it opened and Dean walked in, "Don't bother yelling, Dean…"
Dean gave a dark laugh, "Don't bother yelling?" His voice rose as he continued, "Don't bother yelling?! What the hell is wrong with you, Sam? Getting a DNA test and then trying to make me look at it when my daughter is right in the room?!"
"Don't you even want to know if she's really yours, Dean?" Sam demanded. "Wouldn't it put your mind at ease if you knew?"
"I'm not troubled over that fact," Dean stated.
Sam rolled his eyes, "You say that but…"
"But nothing!" Dean shouted. "Any way you look at it she's mine. End of story!"
"You don't know that…"
"Like hell I don't!"
"Dean…if she's not yours by blood…"
"Then she's mine simply because I adopted her," Dean argued.
Sam sighed as he shook his head. Looking up at his brother, he said quietly, "Just…think about looking at it…okay?"
His brother's gaze was cold as he exited the room.
Bobby had been listening to the entire conversation, and he didn't try to hide the fact as Sam walked past. Sighing, Bobby looked into the room to see Dean staring at the envelope like he would an enemy, and Bobby could only imagine what was possibly going through Dean's mind as he reached, seemingly reluctantly, for the envelope.
I hate math… Sara thought as she worked on the homework her uncle had assigned her the previous day in one of the rooms upstairs. Bruce lay on the floor next to her chair, snoring. "I'm glad you can relax," she said, smiling at the dog.
Feeling a chill run up her spine, Sara gazed towards the window, wondering if a bird was staring at her or something to give her such a creepy feeling. Without warning, Bruce woke up and leapt onto the bed, gazing out the window, his fur rising along his spine and a growl coming from his throat. Within a second, Sara was at the window, pistol drawn and ready for use, but there was nothing outside except a blue car heading down the road.
Turning towards Bruce with a frown, she asked as she petted his head, "What's wrong with you?" Bruce merely panted in response.
With one last pat on the head, Sara went back to her homework. A knock on the door a few seconds later nearly made her fly out of her chair, but she managed to keep her fright hidden.
Sam asked from the doorway, "Everything all right?"
"Yeah, just working on my homework," Sara answered.
"Well…" Sam walked into the room, noting that Bruce was lying on the bed. "Do you need any help?"
"Yeah…" Sara admitted. Sam simply smiled and walked over to assist her with her math.
Out on the road in the blue car, one of the three men within commented, "This spot looks promising…"
"Only if there's more than one person in it," the man in the passenger's seat commented. "Otherwise it's no fun."
"I take it we're scouting this place out then before we do anything?" An irritated voice demanded from the back. "I really want to just cut something up!"
"Patience, Bro," the driver murmured, turning the car left and heading back into town. "We all want to just rip right into things, but we need to make sure that we pick some really good houses…"
Dean stared at the envelope in his hands. He knew that nothing would change how he felt about his daughter…how he felt about Sara. She was his regardless of blood or anything else. She was his responsibility. His gaze lifted away from the envelope as he thought what he'd done, I know I did the right thing there… He closed his eyes as another thought followed, but is it really worth it if she's not my blood?! Dean's thoughts went to the night he'd summoned the crossroads demon…
And what could the great, Dean Winchester possibly want?" a female voice asked behind him, and Dean whipped around to face a woman dressed in a black dress, her dark brown hair hanging down to her shoulders, and her brown eyes flashing to red for a split second.
Taking a deep breath, Dean answered her, "I want to make a deal."
She snorted, "And what could you possibly interest me with?"
"You get my ass in hell," Dean said cheekily.
"And that interests me how?" the demon asked.
Dean smirked a bit, "New toy to play with."
"Cute," the demon said sarcastically. "What do you want in return?"
"I want the demon that's after my daughter killed," Dean answered.
The demon laughed, "You want me to kill a fellow demon?"
"There's more to what I have in mind, but, yeah…that's essentially it," Dean stated.
"That's not in my power," the demon stated.
A new voice said from behind Dean, "But it is in mine."
Turning around, Dean wasn't surprised to see Crowley, looking as suave and composed as ever. Crowley asked, "What else is it that you want in this deal? I can't see you simply throwing away your life."
"I want a way out of it," Dean stated.
Crowley looked severely torn as he weighed the options, "Go on…"
"If Sam, my daughter, or anyone else that knows me kills that demon before the year's time it gave me is up…the deal is off…if none of us can kill it before then…you get my soul."
"Hmm…you know, Dean…that's quite a tempting offer," Crowley stated. "And I know full well what demon you're talking about…You see there's just a tiny problem…I'm not seeing why this deal should be made. All it seems to do is benefit you." Dean gave Crowley a hard stare, "So, I want to amend your little proposal by adding that you can't leave hell in any way for five years. After all, there are some new tortures that would even make you cringe in fear."
Dean's eyes widened in shock, but as he thought about it, Crowley really couldn't keep him in hell. Not really. "I'll still make the deal."
Crowley gave a satisfied grin, "Then by all means, proceed."
"Yes, sir," the demon said, repeating Dean's terms, "So you have only eleven months to kill this demon before I do, and if you don't, I will kill it at the end of our contracts time…"
Dean interjected, "That thing can't kill my daughter either."
She rolled her eyes, "Yes, I will kill it before then, and then I'll take your soul once it's dead and you'll be unable to leave hell for five years. Deal?"
"Deal," Dean said. The demon started to lean forward, and he had to steel himself as she kissed him. Bile rose up in his throat as they kissed.
Once she pulled away, Crowley commented, "I didn't expect you to be so willing to end up in hell again."
"I've been in purgatory, I don't think things get much worse than there," Dean said, turning to face Crowley.
Crowley smiled, unsettling Dean, "I look forward to when you end up in hell due to one of my little prototypes, just so I can see that smugness you have ripped out of you."
"Dean…Dean!" Bobby said, shaking Dean's shoulder.
"What?" Dean glanced at Bobby, coming out of his thoughts.
Gazing at Dean in concern, he asked, "Are you all right?"
"Yeah," Dean answered, starting to open up the envelope.
"Dean…" Bobby said quietly. "You don't have to look…you know that…right?"
Dean sighed, "Sam's right, Bobby. It'll put my mind at ease." Before Bobby could say anything, he added, "Sara's my daughter either way. Nothing changes that. But…but it'll at least be confirmed if she's my daughter by blood or just because I adopted her and brought her into this crazy-ass lifestyle…"
"If you're sure," Bobby muttered, stepping away from Dean.
Opening up the envelope, Dean pulled out a paper and opened it up. Bobby tried to gauge Dean's reaction as he watched his eyes reading the letter. After several minutes, he finally asked out of impatience, "Well?"
That evening, Sara came downstairs and plopped down next to her father on the couch. Dean chuckled and asked, "Homework get the better of you?"
"Yes," she answered. "I can't get the numbers out of my head either!"
Dean was about to pull his daughter into a one-armed hug when Bruce leapt up onto the couch and made space for himself in between them, "Thanks, mutt."
Bruce simply lay down, placing his front half on Sara, who started to scratch his ears again, "He's a good dog."
"One that needs to learn some manners," Bobby commented as he entered the room. "That dog should be outside, but he'll soon learn that he'll only get away with this kind of behavior when you're here!"
Sara simply laughed, while Bruce got more comfortable, kicking Dean as he stretched out.
"Great! I'm going to be kicked off the couch by a dog!" Dean reluctantly stood up and moved to the wall since Bobby was occupying the recliner and Sam was sitting in the only other chair. Bruce simply sighed happily.
Taking a swig of beer, Dean gazed down at Bruce and commented dryly, "Glad someone's comfortable!"
Sara said, "Aw! Leave him alone, Dad!" She rubbed Bruce's side, and the Rottweiler promptly rolled onto his back, exposing his stomach so that he could get it rubbed, and Sara obliged.
Dean fought back a grin; it was hard not to smile at how happy his daughter obviously was at having a dog. He almost felt bad that they couldn't take the dog with…almost.
The next afternoon, Sara was finding it very hard to focus on what her uncle was saying as Sam droned on and on about how to do a specific type of mathematical formula that she had already forgotten the name of. Since early that morning she'd been "in school" and she really just wanted a reprieve. Sam really seemed to be making up for missing a couple days of home-schooling with gusto. Sara kept hoping that her father would come in and rescue her from her torture, but that hadn't happened yet and she really didn't expect it to either since Dean had been fussing over the Impala.
"…and you're now done for the day," Sam finally said much to Sara's delight. As she shot out of the door, Sam called after her half-heartedly, "And don't forget to do your homework!" He gave a half-smile as he watched Bruce follow her eagerly outside, looking about as happy as Sara was.
Once outside, Sara stretched, glad that her torment had ended. Today was just one of those days where she felt burnt out and didn't want to do much, but her uncle didn't seem to understand that. About to sit down near the Impala, her father said as he finished waxing the car, "Since you're done why don't we work on your shooting?"
"Sure, Dad," Sara agreed reluctantly, though she didn't let it show in her voice. She really wasn't in the mood for practicing her shooting skills, but that just seemed to be how her day was going.
Dean nodded in approval as he went to the back of the Impala and opened the trunk, pulling out a shotgun and pistol along with a bag of cans.
Glancing out the window, Sam frowned and Bobby commented as he came to see what Sam was looking at, "Something bothering you?"
"Yeah, that," Sam stated.
Bobby asked, "And that bothers you why?"
"Because she's obviously worn out, Bobby," Sam stated. "Dean shouldn't even be asking her to practice when what she really needs is time to be a kid!"
"So you taught her for most of today because you're a saint?" Bobby asked incredulously.
Sam turned to give Bobby a disbelieving look, "She needs to get an education!"
"So how is your brother doing anything different?"
"It's just like our dad was with us," Sam answered. "I mean…come on, Bobby! Dean just wants her to work and be a good soldier rather than let her actually be a kid!" Sam walked away then, through with arguing.
Taking a look out the window once more, Bobby shook his head in bewilderment, "I swear you two know when the other is watching you!"
Dean handed his daughter both of the guns when he noticed her less-than-enthused expression. Throwing the bag of cans back in, he said, "We'll do this another day…"
"Dad, we can do it today!" Sara said quickly, not wanting to disappoint her father.
"We'll do this another day," Dean repeated as he took both the guns from her and set them back in the trunk before he closed it. "Stay here. I'll be right back."
As her father walked towards the house, Sara commented to Bruce as the Rottweiler came to stand beside her, "Great…I screwed up again…"
Bobby met Dean at the door, startling him, "Geeze, Bobby! What were you doing? Watching me?"
"So I wanted to see what kind of a father you were turning out to be, big deal!" Bobby said sarcastically. "What are you coming in here for?"
"I wanted to know if you still had those baseball gloves along with a baseball," Dean answered.
"Course I still have them, Idjit," Bobby said. Walking into another room, Dean heard him rummaging around and it was several minutes before he returned, tossing Dean the two gloves and the baseball.
"Thanks, Bobby," Dean said, heading back outside.
Going over to the window, Bobby smiled as he watched Dean walk back to his daughter, tossing her one of the gloves.
"Think fast!" Dean called out as he threw the smaller of the two gloves to his daughter.
Just managing to catch the glove, Sara was perplexed as to what her father had in mind as he put on the other glove. Following suit, Sara asked, "What does this have to do with hunting?"
"Absolutely nothing," Dean said as he tossed her the baseball.
Still a bit perplexed, Sara returned the ball with a simple toss, "Why are we doing this?"
"Because it's something fun that you and I can do," Dean responded as he caught the ball. "Sometimes we need a break from things." He tossed the ball back to his daughter, noting Bruce's head movement, "Dog! If you even attempt to get that ball you'd better hope I'm not the one that gets it out of your mouth!" Bruce lowered his head though his eyes still followed the ball as it went back and forth between the two.
As Sara started to relax, Dean couldn't help smiling. It was a reassuring thought to know that he could get her to smile, and he wanted to see that smile as often as he possibly could within the remaining time he had with her.
Something must have shown in his eyes to give away what he was thinking since Sara asked as she caught the ball, "Are you all right, Dad?"
"Yeah," Dean answered, catching her return throw. "Just been a long time since I've done anything like this." He gave a half-hearted chuckle, "It's been years really…I can't remember the last time I even tried to forget about hunting even for a minute…" He threw the ball back to her.
"Is hunting really so bad?" Sara questioned, catching the ball. "I mean…you get to help so many people…" She threw it back.
Catching the ball, Dean sighed, "It has its days, kiddo, where it is worthwhile…but most of the time…it's hell." He didn't throw the ball back, shaking his head, his gaze distant, "I really regret that I can't give you a better life than it either… Dragging you into it like I did…" He threw the ball back then.
"I'm glad that you did though," Sara said, her voice very soft so that Dean almost didn't hear her as she caught the ball. "I mean…I know it's not a great life…but I'd still be in the orphanage if you hadn't…" She threw the ball back haphazardly.
Dean had to jump to catch the ball, but he didn't throw it back right away, or you'd be in a happy home with a family that could give you a normal life… A darker thought crossed his mind, or she could be dead… Wanting to get his thoughts away from such a thing, he randomly changed the subject, "I was thinking that tomorrow I'd convince Sammy to give you another break from school." He finally threw the ball back to her.
I wonder if he knows that tomorrow is my birthday…? Sara wondered as she caught the ball. "That sounds fine to me." She threw the baseball back.
"All right then," Dean said as he caught and threw the ball back.
Bruce couldn't resist any longer, jumping up from where he had been lying and catching the ball in his jaws before he darted off, stubby tail wagging.
"That dog is really asking for it!" Dean snapped, starting to follow Bruce. The Rottweiler returned of his own accord though, sliding to a halt a few feet from Dean and play-bowing, his rump in the air and stubby tail still going two-forty.
Sara tried to stifle her laughter as her father muttered, "You sly, cheeky, little…!" He dove for Bruce who leapt away from him, letting Dean land in the dirt. Getting up, Dean muttered, "I get enough of this when hunting, I sure as hell don't need it from a mutt!" Sara couldn't help it, she laughed. "Oh so you find this funny?"
"Yeah!" Sara answered, still laughing.
Dean was about to make a smart-ass remark when he watched Bruce play-bow in front of his daughter, "It looks like it's your turn."
Not looking half as thrilled as she had been before, Sara slowly approached Bruce who kept backing away each time her hand came within six inches of the ball, growling playfully. Eventually Sara dove for the Rottweiler just like her father had and she was no more successful than he'd been.
Snorting, Dean tried to put on a serious face when his daughter glared at him, but he couldn't stop himself from chuckling, "Not so funny when it's you is it?" She rolled her eyes at him as she stood up, though Dean didn't miss her wincing in pain and he watched her carefully, wondering if she'd aggravated her burns. "How about we team up and get that dog?"
Sara nodded as she smiled at her father in response, trying to hide the fact that a couple of her burns were hurting. She assumed she was failing miserably just with how her father was watching her.
Dean was about to ask Sara if she was all right when Bruce trotted happily over and spat out the baseball, play bowing as he barked at them a couple times, "I swear that dog's mocking us!"
"Or saying catch me if you can," Sara suggested.
"Same thing!"
"Idjits!" Bobby muttered, a smile on his face as he walked away from the window. Now where the hell is Sam? Surely he can hear that ruckus outside?! Walking into the living room, Bobby snorted, figures! He's got headphones in so that he can't hear anything that's going on outside! Slightly annoyed, but unable to completely blame Sam for wanting to relax, Bobby moseyed back over to the window, amused with what was going on outside.
Bobby had to admit that Bruce was one smart dog, always staying out of reach of both Sara and Dean, never getting fooled into a spot where he would be caught and always managing to wiggle his way out of it…sometimes literally! The game only ended when the Rottweiler lay down on the ground, spat out the ball, and lay there panting happily, his stubby, little tail still wagging.
I'll make a guard dog out of him eventually, especially with the brains he's got! Bobby thought, amused as Sara plopped down next to the pooped out Rottweiler, Dean merely picked up the drenched baseball, shooting the dog a half-hearted dirty look before he started making his way towards the house, Now what does he want? I don't want that drool covered ball!
Dean barely got into the house when Bobby said, "Throw that thing in the trash I don't know why you brought it in here!"
"It was just an excuse to ask you a couple questions," Dean said calmly, throwing the baseball into the trash and started washing his hands, "My first question is what was with your random age question the other day?"
"Can't I ask how old she is?" Bobby countered, avoiding the question.
Dean dried off his hands, "Not before you greet her back."
"What was the other question you had?" Bobby asked, changing the subject, his look saying the other subject was closed."
Giving Bobby a look that said the subject wouldn't remained closed forever, as he reluctantly asked, "What should I do for Sara's birthday?"
"And here I thought you wouldn't be concerned with something like that," Bobby said, not meaning any harm by the statement.
Dean made an exasperated sound, "Damn it, Bobby! I'm serious! I don't want to have her think that I don't care!"
Now if only Sam would walk in, or at least take off his headphones, Bobby thought. "Just spend the day with her, Dean. Take her to see a movie, go to a park, hell you can do just about anything really with her so long as it's just the two of you."
"So you don't think I should do something that includes you and Sam?" Dean tried to clarify.
"Hell, there'll be time for that later," Bobby stated. "Or at least we hope so…all else fails, Sara will feel like she means something more to you than just someone who you give orders to."
"You've been talking with Sam," Dean stated, shaking his head and closing his eyes for a second. "Well, I guess I'll spend the day with her on Wednesday."
Sitting next to Bruce, Sara rubbed her left shoulder that burn in particular giving an annoying throb of pain that wouldn't go away. Never, ever tackling a fire spirit again! Never! She figured her burns were the main reason for her exhaustion, even if they'd had time to heal a bit, a couple of the worse ones, like her shoulder, would give throbs every now and then, though she tried not to let her father or uncle know.
"That burn bothering you?" Dean called out as he got nearer to Sara after leaving the house.
Silently berating herself for not noticing that he had exited the house. "Yeah," she admitted reluctantly.
"You should have let Sammy or I know," her father stated. "Any other burns that still haven't healed just yet?"
"A couple," Sara admitted once again.
Dean frowned, "You really do need to tell me things like that, kiddo. You don't need to endure the pain."
But you and Sam do! Sara wanted to shout. She hated feeling like a burden to her father and uncle.
"Don't give me that look," Dean said, giving her a fake stern-look. "Sammy and I have had all our lives to get used to dealing with pain, you haven't."
Deciding that looking away from her father was best, she looked at the ground, but I still don't want to be a burden…
"Ah, kiddo," Dean sighed, sitting down next to her, "You're beating yourself up over nothing."
"How come you always know what I'm thinking?!" Sara asked, wanting to know what gave away her inner thoughts.
Dean smiled, "You have very expressive eyes, just like your old man."
"Great," Sara muttered. She added as an afterthought, "How is it that Uncle Sammy can't tell what you're thinking all the time then?"
"I've learned how to keep most of my feelings from showing," Dean answered truthfully, "it's part of the job, after all, I can't hide what I'm feeling or thinking all the time though."
"I need to learn how to do that," Sara muttered.
Dean chuckled, "It takes a lot of practice, kiddo…unfortunately…you'll get plenty of it."
"How long are we going to stay here, Dad?" Sara questioned, quickly adding, "I mean, it's nice to relax, but…"
"We'll be leaving once Bobby gets word of something that sounds like our kind of gig," Dean answered. "So enjoy this while it lasts since we don't get breaks like this often. So don't get used to it."
"Right," Sara murmured, starting to stroke Bruce's head. This didn't last long though as Bruce lifted his head suddenly, ears pricked as he listened to something only he could hear before he took off towards the house. "I take it as a sign that it's dinner time."
"I think you're right," Dean agreed, getting to his feet. "Let's head back over there."
Later that evening, while Sara had fallen asleep in the recliner, Bruce lying on the floor next to the chair, Dean, Sam, and Bobby where sitting in the kitchen, discussing possible cases, though none of the crimes were out of the ordinary, or if they were, they already had hunters in the area to cover them.
"I'm starting to get bored," Dean muttered.
Sam said, "At least I have time to give Sara proper lessons."
"Speaking of lessons, give her the day off tomorrow."
"Why?"
"Because I'm telling you too," Dean's tone said that this fact should have been obvious.
Sam frowned, "Fine, but if I find out that it's just so you can train her more in hunting, I'm going to drag her back in here for her schooling!"
"Trust me, it's not for hunting," his brother stated.
Before Sam could ask Dean what he could possibly have planned for tomorrow, he heard tires coming up the drive, and he watched Bobby go over to the window and look outside. Neither Sam nor Dean relaxed until Bobby said, "It's just Sheriff Mills…I wonder why she's stopping by here at this hour."
"It's not like it's late," Dean commented, glancing at the clock that was displaying nine-thirty as the time.
"Still…" Bobby muttered, going to open the door before the Sheriff could knock. "What brings you here at this hour?"
"Checking to make sure you all are still alive," Jody stated.
Sam was concerned as he asked, "Have those serial killers struck?"
"Not yet…" Jody admitted, "That's what worries me. No one has seen any strange cars, and it's just…" She shook her head, before she said, "Well, I know you're all still alive so I need to keep patrolling. I can't assume that they'll just pass on through this town thinking it to be too small."
"We hope you catch them," Dean said quietly.
Jody managed a small smile, "I know you do. Just stay on alert, all right?"
"Still bored?" One of the three men within the house asked, a white mask covering his face, only his blue eyes were visible along with his brown hair. Putting the muzzle of his pistol against the back of his victim's head. The terrified woman screamed, though the sound was muffled by the duct tape that was covering her mouth. Tears streamed down her face, her brown eyes wide with fear.
"Nah," another masked man said, wiping a bloodied knife on his pants as he entered the room. Though he was shorter than the other man, he shared the same hair color, though his eyes were blue-gray in color. "I hope the last house is as fun as all these others have been."
The woman screamed again as the last man entered the room carrying a bloodied pitchfork that was bloodied and still had bits of flesh on it. He was taller than the other two, though he shared the same brown hair, but instead of blue eyes, his were brown, "Why don't you finish up now that we're done so we can move on to the last house."
"With pleasure," the first man said, pulling the trigger.
Sara woke up to find the house dark. Glancing at the clock that hung on the wall, she could just make out the time. It's only one in the morning?! She thought in disbelief. Sighing in exasperation, she tried to readjust her position and fall back asleep, but to no avail. Between Bruce, her uncle, and her father's snores, she knew she wouldn't be able to fall asleep anytime soon. Plus, she just felt restless. Deciding to take a walk around Bobby's property, she carefully stood up, making sure that she didn't step on Bruce.
The Rottweiler lifted his head as Sara stepped over him and she said, "Stay here." Whining, Bruce laid his head on his paws and watched her enter the kitchen.
Nearly jumping with fright as she walked into the kitchen and found Bobby sitting at the kitchen table, cleaning a pistol; she didn't even get a chance to say anything as Bobby asked her, "Can't sleep?"
"No," Sara admitted. "You?"
"Nah," Bobby answered, "Too much on my mind to sleep. So what were you planning on doing?"
"I was just going to walk around the property," Sara answered.
Apparently finished cleaning the pistol, Bobby slid it across the table to her, "Take that with you."
Not questioning Bobby's behavior since it was a rarity that she ever went anywhere without a pistol or gun of some sort anymore, she simply nodded at him and walked outside.
Bobby watched Sara walk outside before he headed upstairs to get a shotgun that he could start cleaning. He had no intention of sleeping that night. Not while those serial killers were on the loose. He just hoped that he was simply being overly cautious by staying up and keeping watch. Finding a shot gun, he walked back downstairs and gazed out the window, keeping an eye on Sara while she was within his line of sight, just to be on the safe side.
Pulling up in back of the Singer Auto Salvage, the three men got out of the car and went to the trunk, pulling out their weapons of choice before they started to head towards the yard where many rusty, broken cars were sitting, intent on reaching the house where they knew their next victims were.
"Ready to have the best fun of the night?" the tallest one asked as he twirled his pitchfork in his eagerness.
"Of course," the other two answered as they walked deliberately into the yard, though they were still cautious, eyes on the house for any signs of life.
Inside the house, Dean was awakened by a low, growling sound followed by the sounds of nails scratching against the floor and then clicking on the floor, the sound moving towards the door that led to the kitchen.
Warily, Dean sat up slowly, looking for the source of the sound. His mind didn't register that the sound was coming from the Rottweiler right away, but once he did, he started to reach for his gun, saying in a low voice, "Sam!"
"I'm awake," Sam said in the same low voice, reaching for his own gun.
"If there's one thing I've learned," Dean said in the same low tone, "It's that that dog doesn't growl…not without a damn good reason." He noticed that Sara wasn't in the room, though he hoped that she was simply using the bathroom.
To say that Bruce looked different was an understatement as the Rottweiler growled at the kitchen door. Bruce was a completely different dog, his hackles raised along his spine, head lowered, and teeth bared as he continued to growl, the sound a stark contrast to earlier when it had been light and only in the dog's throat. Now it was settled deep in his chest, and it was obvious that something had set him off.
Getting slowly to their feet, Dean and Sam walked over to the door, each standing on either side of it. Dean, being the one closest to the handle, nodded at Sam before he threw the door open, Bruce shooting through it.
Bobby was standing, gun aimed at the door, but when he saw that it was only Sam, Dean, and Bruce, he demanded, "What is wrong with you idjits?! Bursting through here like…" He trailed off as he noticed Bruce now growling at the door to the outside, "Something ain't right if that dog's acting like that."
"We know," Dean said, moving slowly to open the door. His pace quickened to a run when he heard a gunshot from outside, followed by another shot, and he flung the door open, trying to keep the Rottweiler's dark body in sight, though he soon lost the dog to his sights, "Son of a bitch!"
Sara was walking through the cars when she saw movement out of the corner of her eye. Gazing around warily, she slowly drew her pistol as she cautiously moved towards one of the cars to use it as a barrier. Just as she reached it, she heard a shot go off and saw a bullet hole get made into the car. Diving to the other side of the vehicle, she peered up over the hood, and spotting a figure fired at it, before she had to hunker down for a bit as whoever was in the yard with her fired another shot.
Firing off a quick shot without really looking to see if the figure was still there, she waited for a retaliating shot…it never came though. Cautiously, she peered over the hood of the car she was sheltering behind. Not seeing anyone, Sara stood up slowly, gazing around for any signs of movement. A shot sounded in the distance, and worry for Bobby, her uncle, and father made her move towards the sound in a hurry, though she kept gazing around for any signs of movement. Hearing the crunching of gravel behind her, Sara whipped around and tried to get off a shot, but something hard jabbed her in the stomach, knocking the wind out of her, and then a fist collided with the side of her head and she went flying, hitting the ground hard, the pistol sliding from her grasp.
Sam and Bobby caught up with Dean outside, and Bobby suggested, "We need to split up. Something tells me it's those three serial killers."
"You and Sam go one way," Dean stated, his tone indicating that he didn't want any argument. "I'm going to see if I can find where that dog went." He didn't need to ask if Sara was outside, the shots had told him that she was definitely somewhere on the property, most likely in the yard, and he was regretting not telling his daughter about the serial killers.
Bobby sighed, "All right. Sam and I will go one way, you go the other. Just do me a favor and be careful!" Dean simply nodded as he attempted to figure out where Bruce had darted off too.
Walking carefully through the rows of cars, Dean was on high alert for any signs or sounds of his daughter, Bruce, or the serial killers. There wasn't any warning as he heard a shot and he ducked down as he heard glass break on the car's passenger window, "Son of a bitch!" Once another shot was fired, he stood up and took quick aim at the figure he could see, their white mask sticking out like a sore thumb and fired. "Damn it!" He swore as another shot was fired from the serial killer.
Bobby and Sam were walking slowly through the rows of cars as well, they allowed a gap to form between them just as they each looked for any signs of Sara or the serial killers. Sam stopped as he heard shots go off like no tomorrow, and his eyes showed how worried he was about Dean. Seeing something move in his peripheral vision, he started to turn towards it. He felt someone grab his right hand, trying to wrest the pistol from him.
Grunting as the force of the person's charge knocked them both to the ground, Sam kicked the guy off, though the guy was on his feet in an instant, knife drawn.
He wasn't standing for long as a shot sounded and he crumpled to the ground to reveal Bobby standing behind him. Bobby commented to the dead body as he walked over to help Sam up, "Never bring a knife to a gun fight."
Across the yard, Sara managed to regain her breath just in time as the guy wearing the white mask tried to stab her with the pitchfork. She managed to roll under a car, rolling to the other side, though not coming out from under it completely since she was weaponless. Hoping the guy would give up, she used her father's favorite phrase as the tines of the pitchfork appeared under the car and were getting too close for her liking, "Son of a bitch!" The pitchfork didn't quite reach her though, and she breathed a sigh of relief.
After several more attempts of trying to get her with the pitchfork, Sara swore as she watched the guy take a knee, and this time, the pitchfork would definitely reach her.
Thinking quickly as she watched the pitchfork come at her in a quick jab. She dragged herself forward so that the pitchfork, if her plan didn't work, would hit her legs instead of any vital organs. Luckily, her plan worked as she lifted her legs enough so that the pitchfork went under her legs, and she quickly brought them down on the pitchfork so that the guy couldn't pull it out.
She had underestimated the guy's strength as she felt him tug at it once and then chuckle, "Nice try, kid." A shout of dismay escaped her as she was dragged towards the guy, though she released the pitchfork before she had quite made it out. Sara attempted to scramble back to the other side, but to no avail, a hand grabbing her left ankle and hauling her out none to gently.
Dean was growing really tired of dealing with the serial killer. Standing up, he took careful aim, and he couldn't help smirking when he heard the shots, but no bullets came even close to him, guess your first shot was just dumb luck. He pulled the trigger and he was satisfied as the white mask fell backwards.
Trying to make up for lost time, Dean sprinted through the car rows, and when he didn't hear or see anything he started to get extremely worried about his daughter's safety.
When he hadn't seen or heard anything for several minutes, he stopped, breathing heavily as he tried to catch even a faint sound. Hearing a faint shout that he recognized as his daughter's he sprinted in that direction. As he got closer, he heard a man speaking. Slowing down, he started to advance cautiously, not wanting to endanger his daughter any farther by bursting in on the scene.
Before he had even taken a couple steps, he heard a loud bark, followed by ferocious snarling and screaming. Throwing caution to the wind, Dean was once again sprinting towards the sounds, praying his daughter was all right.
Bobby and Sam were walking more cautiously through the rows of cars, neither saying anything as they kept an eye out for any signs of the remaining two serial killers.
They both paused as they heard screams of pain, and they only had to glance at each other before they hurried towards the sound.
The guy placed a foot on the lower part of Sara's chest to keep her from getting away, and as he lifted up the pitchfork to strike at Sara's chest, she noticed the maniacal delight showing in his brown eyes, the only visible feature behind the mask. Her mind was racing as she tried to think of something she could do to keep herself from getting killed.
A loud bark distracted the guy as he looked up to see the source of the sound. Sara heard the thud of something heavy landing on the hood of a car, before she heard the snarling. She recognized Bruce's black and tan fur as the Rottweiler sailed through the air and hit the masked guy square in the chest, and they hit the ground, the guy screamed in pain.
Sara scrambled away from the guy and got to her feet quickly, turning around to face him, though part of her wished she hadn't. Bruce was mauling the guy, though the serial killer wasn't ready to give up just yet, as he started to reach for the pitchfork handle.
Dean arrived at the scene just as the serial killer got his hand around the handle, but that was as far as he got as Dean took aim and fired, ending the serial killer's life.
Bruce leapt away from the serial killer as soon as he heard the gun shot, releasing a yelp of surprise, though he was obviously unhurt, just startled.
"Sara?" Dean asked, turning away from the mauled body.
Sara turned as she heard her father, and she answered his unspoken question, "I'm fine, I look worse than I actually am."
Her father still looked her over before he was satisfied that she really was all right. They both turned as they heard more footsteps, and Dean had his pistol at the ready, though he lowered it once he realized it was only Bobby and Sam.
"You two all right?" Sam asked, having obviously been worried about his brother and niece.
"We're fine," Dean answered. "Though I can't say as much about that guy."
Bobby shook his head as he took in the serial killer's mauled body, and the single bullet wound on his head. Bruce crept over to Sara's side, giving Dean worried glances that he'd fire the gun again.
Sara patted the top of Bruce's head, not allowing the dog to lean against her since he was covered in blood, "Tell me again who was it that said he wouldn't make a good guard dog?"
"I'll admit it, I was wrong," Dean said. "I didn't think he had it in him."
Bobby muttered, "I need to go call the Sheriff, anyone else care to head back to the house with me?"
The next morning, after their late night and having to explain all that had happened to Sheriff Mills, along with reassuring her that Bruce had not been the one to kill one of the three serial killers. It was amazing that any of them were up before noon, but almost all of them were, save two: Sara & Bruce.
"At least Jody said she'd make sure everything was taken care of and that we won't be bothered by the media," Sam muttered, pouring himself another cup of coffee.
Bobby snorted, "Of course she did! Doesn't want me to give the town a bad reputation by cussing out the reporters!"
Dean smirked, "Yeah, that's the last thing the sheriff wants." He noticed Sam glancing towards the living room out of the corner of his eye and grouched, "Would you quit checking to see if she's up?!"
"I don't get it," Sam stated. "You asked for her to have today off, and you had to have a reason! Unless you're trying to tell me that you knew those serial killers were going to come here?"
"Hell no," Dean responded.
Sam was exasperated, "Then why did you ask for her to have the day off from her schooling if you're not going to do anything with her today?"
Dean didn't answer, merely standing up, "I'm going to see if I can get a couple more winks of sleep…"
"Dean!" Sam shouted, before he threw up his hands in exasperation as the kitchen door closed behind his brother. "I can't understand him!"
"Let him be," Bobby said.
"But-!"
"Just how old are you? Three?" Bobby demanded. Sam gave Bobby a disbelieving look that he was being asked such a question. "You don't have to know everything that your brother has on his mind!" Before Sam could even start to argue, Bobby snapped, "Look, if you really need something to do today because you're bored, just ask your brother if you can borrow the Impala and go drive someplace, I doubt he'll be using it today."
Sam raised one eyebrow incredulously, "Ask Dean if I can borrow the Impala…? Are you serious?"
"No, I'm being funny!" Bobby said sarcastically in answer.
Sighing, Sam exited the kitchen and walked to the living room, "Dean…"
"What?" Dean asked from his position on the recliner, his eyes closed.
"Would you mind if I borrowed the Im-!" He didn't even get to finish his question as Dean tossed the keys to him.
"Just this one time," Dean stated, his tone serious even if he wasn't giving Sam his usual look of "one scratch on her or one thing out of place and I'll kill you".
Utterly perplexed, Sam walked back into the kitchen and as he started to leave, he heard Bobby mutter, "Idjit!"
As soon as Sam left the living room, Dean opened his eyes and leaned forward in the recliner, watching his daughter as she slept peacefully. So much for having a father-daughter day followed by a small birthday celebration.
Bruce woke up, his black and tan coat shining from his bath last night. It took the Rottweiler a few seconds to fully wake up before he started to lick Sara's face, his stubby tail wagging.
"Wha?" Sara murmured, sitting up slowly as she put out her left hand to fend off Bruce's licks. Apparently waking up a bit more, she asked as she yawned, "What time is it?"
"About ten thirty," Dean answered. Sara groaned in response. "You can go back to sleep if you want, kiddo."
"No, I'm up," Sara said, adding silently. I'm not going to sleep through my birthday…
"Well, since you're up," Dean said as he got out of the chair, "Anything you'd like to do today?"
Does he know? I really don't want to ask… Sara thought. "Um…" She desperately tried to think of something to do, "Take Bruce to a park and throw a ball around for him?"
"That's what you want to do today?!" Dean was stunned at her choice.
Maybe he does know…but I really can't think of anything else! "Yeah, I mean, we'll be leaving soon…right?"
"Yeah…right," Dean agreed, though he still didn't look thrilled. He tried to look on the bright side, "Well, at least he won't be in my car!"
"Why?" Sara asked, surprised.
"Sam decided that he needed to do something that required a car, and I figured you'd sleep longer, so I let him take it."
"Oh!" Sara said, not sure how she should really respond.
"Well, let's go see if we can find a park that allows massive dogs," Dean said, leading the way into the kitchen. He asked Bobby, "I need to borrow one of your cars. No vans or station wagons!"
"Here," Bobby said, sliding some keys across the table. "Blue Mustang, only one on the property…at least that's blue."
Dean grabbed the keys, "Thanks, Bobby."
He was almost at the door when Bobby said, "Dean!"
Turning to look at Bobby, Dean could tell that Bobby wanted to speak with him alone. With a sigh, he tossed the keys to his daughter, "Try and find the car."
"All right," Sara agreed, though she was definitely perplexed. She held open the door for Bruce before following the Rottweiler outside.
"Well?" Dean questioned, a bit impatient to go out and spend time with his daughter on her birthday.
"What were the results of that DNA test?" Bobby asked, since he'd never gotten an answer.
"What do you think, Bobby?"
"Boy-!"
"All right!" Dean said hurriedly before Bobby could really get on a role. He grinned then, "She's definitely mine, I thought that much was obvious." Before Bobby could ask any more questions, or more likely lecture him, Dean shot out the door.
Bobby shook his head, his expression hard to read, "Idjit!"
Managing to find the park, Dean leaned against the Mustang while Bruce and Sara played, definitely not what I had in mind… Dean figured he could at least make the best of the situation, and he watched Sara throw a tennis ball for Bruce over, and over, and over, and over, and over (you get the idea) again. That dog doesn't tire easily!
"You know," Sara complained, her arm getting tired. "You could throw the ball for him too, Dad!"
Dean chuckled, "This was your idea!"
Having no response to that, Sara continued to throw the ball for the, apparently, tireless Rottweiler. After many more throws, Sara walked over to where her father was reclining against the car, and sat down, leaning against the rear tire, "I surrender!"
Unable to contain his laughter, Dean said, "Too bad that mutt isn't done yet!"
Sara moaned as Bruce spat the ball out of his mouth and stood expectantly, his stubby little tail wagging furiously as he waited for Sara to throw the ball. "It won't even go far enough anymore," she complained as she reached for the ball.
Before she reached it, Dean bent down and grabbed the ball, he threw it quite a distance, Bruce giving a yip of delight as he tore after the ball.
"Show off!" Sara grouched, pushing his leg.
Dean gave her a look of mock horror, "So I help you out and that's the thanks I get?"
"Yeah," Sara answered, smiling.
He somehow managed to give a convincing frown while fighting back a smile, as he sat down next to her, "I see how it is! Glad to know I'm appreciated."
Not taking her father seriously at all, she shoved his shoulder with her own, "Yep, so underappreciated!"
Unable to contain his laughter any longer, Dean pulled her against him, and asked, "So what are you going to do now? Shoving won't work."
"This!" Sara said, as she squirmed, Dean releasing her after he let her struggle a bit. They were soon rough-housing, Dean having more fun, and laughing more than he had in a long, long time.
The rough-housing didn't last long though, as Bruce, returning with the ball, panting from his mad dash after the tennis ball which had bounced and rolled quite a ways, spotted the pair having fun without him and put on an extra spurt of speed, tackling Dean.
"Dog!" Dean managed to shout once he got his breath back, having had it knocked out of him by the Rottweiler. He pushed Bruce off his chest and wiped the slobber that had dripped from the dog's mouth off his face.
Sara was laughing so hard that she was doubled-over, unable to stop laughing either. Bruce didn't help by bounding over to her and licking her face, trying to determine what had made her so happy. By the time she'd recovered, she had to fight back a sigh of frustration at Bruce as well. The father-daughter moment had ended, her father leaning against the Mustang once more.
"Sometimes, Bruce…" Sara muttered as she pulled the sopping tennis ball out of his mouth, "You have bad timing!" She threw the ball as hard as she could. Even though she'd never had a "normal" family, Sara knew that her father didn't fit the typical description. The past few days he'd been more like a typical father, but it was still like the usual as well. One minute, her father would want to have a father-daughter moment, the next, he'd prefer to keep her as far away from himself as possible. Sara was confused by this, and she still wasn't sure if she was to blame for his drastic change in moods, or if it was just how he was.
Bobby glanced up as Sam walked in ten minutes to four o'clock, glad to see that Sam looked a bit more relaxed than he'd looked the entire time he, Dean, and Sara had been at his place, "Long enough of away from your brother?"
"Yeah," Sam admitted. "Though I did have to fill the tank so he wouldn't bitch at me later."
Bobby muttered, "He'll find something wrong and you know it."
"But that's normal," Sam answered. "Might be nice to have things feel normal for once!"
"No such thing as 'normal'," Bobby stated.
Dean and Sara walked in then, Bruce being the first to enter the kitchen though, looking for his dinner, "Greedy mutt!" Dean said as he entered the kitchen, followed by Sara.
That's normal… Sam thought. Neither Dean nor Sara was smiling, and they had a distance between them. Dean's not Dad, Sam tried to tell himself, but it was hard not to see a similarity between their father and Dean. He does so many things like Dad, and I don't even think he realizes it…
"We're heading back out," Dean stated.
Bobby was a bit surprised, "Not staying to eat?"
"We'll eat out," Dean answered before he glanced at Sam, holding out his hand, "I need my keys."
Sam handed him the keys as he stood up, simply assuming he was going along as well.
"Why are you getting up?" Dean asked, giving Sam a confused look.
"You said we're heading out…" Sam was now confused as well.
"Yeah, we as in…" Dean touched his daughter's shoulder, "We." He didn't want any other interruptions to the time he wanted to spend with his daughter.
Sam sat down, feeling awkward, "Right…" He said to Sara, "Have fun!"
"Right!" Sara said brightly.
Keys in hand, Dean led the way back outside, and Sara followed, sighing in resignation as her father walked around the Impala, making sure there wasn't a thing wrong with the car, "So far so good…" Dean muttered. "Let's see if he remembered to top the tank off…" He got into the car, and Sara really wasn't sure if he wanted her to get in right away or not.
About to start the engine so he could check the gas gauge, Dean noticed that his daughter was still standing outside. Getting back out, he asked her, "Something wrong?"
"No, I just…" Sara trailed off, unsure of how to explain her father's obsession with the Impala to him. He was giving her his look that said he wouldn't let the subject drop, so she mumbled, "I wasn't sure if you were going to inspect the interior as thoroughly as the exterior…"
Dean barely managed to hear her, but he did hear her. Shaking his head as he chuckled, he teased, "I would have told you to wait if I was going to be that thorough." Noticing that Sara didn't seem to take it as light-heartedly as he would have hoped, he added, "When it comes down to it, I do love this car, kiddo. She holds a lot of fond memories, but she's not a living creature." He tried teasing her again, "Unless you're trying to tell me that you think you have a car as a sister."
This time he got the desired response as his daughter laughed, "No!"
"Then get in," Dean said, smiling.
They both got in, and Dean said as he started the engine, nodding slightly in approval as he noticed the filled tank, "Why don't you check the glove box for me?"
He just didn't want to check everything in the interior himself! Sara thought, forcing herself not to sigh as she opened the glove box.
Having a good idea of what went across her mind, Dean smiled as he watched her eyes widened in surprise as she pulled out a small, wrapped box.
Definitely surprised, and a bit perplexed, Sara asked her father as she held the brown-paper wrapped box, "What is this?"
"Why don't you open it?" Dean suggested.
Still perplexed, Sara started to feel excited, maybe he really did remember my birthday all this time! Ripping off the paper, she opened the small box to see a cell phone resting in it, "A cell phone!" She was definitely happy with the gift, if that was what it was.
Dean nodded, "It already has all of Sam and my numbers in the Contacts, and the phone I usually use is the first number it'll dial." He added as an afterthought, "Bobby's number is also in there."
"Thanks, Dad," Sara said, leaning over to hug him.
This brought a smile to Dean's face again, "I'm glad you like it, kiddo." Rubbing her shoulder for a few seconds, he was the first to pull away as he asked, "You hungry?"
Glancing at the clock, Sam was amazed that Dean and Sara had been gone so long, granted, it didn't help that Bruce punctuated every hour by sighing heavily, moaning, or whining, making sure it was clear that he was missing Sara. "Eleven," Sam said, not really expecting any response from Bobby.
"Means they're either having a good time, or in a heap load of trouble," Bobby commented. "And since Dean hasn't called, I don't think they're in any trouble. Unless you have a gut feeling that says otherwise?"
"No," Sam answered. He knew Bobby was probably right, but he still couldn't help worrying,
"Relax, Sam," Bobby said, though his tone indicated that he was getting irritated. "You're as bad as the dog!" Sam wanted to argue that he wasn't, but he didn't get the chance to argue his case. "Look, your brother and niece are enjoying themselves, making the most of this rare time off, you should too! You're not hunting!" Bobby glanced at a paper he was reading, "Though that's bound to change…I'm thinking I'm going to have to ask you boys to go here…no hunters in this area…" Bobby went right back into what he'd been trying to say, "Just find something to take your mind off them, relax! Take it easy! Just quit acting like this idjit!" He nudged Bruce with his foot and the Rottweiler took this as a sign that he could get attention from Bobby as he got eagerly to his paws, and set his head on Bobby's lap so he could get petted. "Definitely don't act like this idjit!"
Meanwhile, not too far away from Bobby's place, Dean had parked the Impala in a clearing just off the side of the road, and he and Sara were lying back on the hood, gazing at the stars.
They'd been doing this in a companionable silence for at least an hour when Dean asked, not taking his eyes off the night sky, "Have you had a good day, Sara?"
"Yeah, apart from early this morning," Sara answered.
Dean chuckled, "We all could have done without that part."
"It's been great, Dad," Sara repeated. After a few seconds of silence, she said, "Thanks, Dad."
Glancing at his daughter, Dean gave a small smile before he sat up. Sara copied his action, assuming that he wanted to get back to Bobby's. He pulled his daughter into a one-armed hug and he kissed the top of her head, "Happy birthday, kiddo."
Sara hugged her father back, "Thanks, Dad. I love you."
"I love you too," Dean said. Their embrace didn't last long, Dean being the first to pull away again, "So do you want to head back to Bobby's or stay out here a bit longer?"
"Let's stay here a bit longer," Sara answered, leaning back against the hood of the Impala once more.
Dean nodded in approval of her answer before he leaned back once more as well, content with how things were and not a worry on his mind…for now.