Firefly – Chapter 4

By: Suz

Dean had separated himself from Ellen and Sam. He stood with his back to the room, facing the bright, shiny new windows. Both hands clutched the windowsill and his shoulders hunched over under the load of what he'd just read.

Holding the blue form, Sam read the same words over and over. Certificate of Live Birth. Emily Claire Winchester. Born: June 3, 2008. Weight: 6 lbs. 3 oz. Time of Birth: 12:06 a.m. Mother: Callista Gabrielle Rail. Father: Dean Winchester. City of Birth: Austin, Texas.

"You're sure this is real? It's not a fake?" Sam said, staring over at his brother's back. "This kid is four years old."

"It was filed exactly the way it reads on June 4, 2008. The form is real," Ellen replied. "What's on the form needs to be checked out." She looked over at Dean's back, also.

Sam was operating on instinct at this point. Facts, he needed facts. "What did this Lindsey Deaton say happened? Why was Calley so afraid? Was someone after them?"

"Lindsey was here a total of ten minutes, tops," Ellen said, shifting her focus from Dean to Sam. "She gave me bare bones information, handed me that envelope and left. That's it."

"Ellen," Dean said, his voice suddenly shaken and hoarse, "where is the little girl who goes with that form? Was she in that—" He stopped, catching his breath and leaning his face against the glass. "Was she in that apartment? Is she dead?"

Ellen walked over to stand beside Dean at the window, her voice gentle "She was hurt but she's alive. Lindsey told me she'd gone to get Calley some cash for her trip. By the time she got back, the place was in flames and a fireman was pulling Emily out through a window. He barely got her out of there alive. In a few seconds, it would have been too late."

He closed his eyes and relaxed against the window frame. Sam was beside him now, resting a hand on his shoulder. The fact that Dean didn't shake off his touch was surprising.

"Where is she?" Dean forced his eyes open and focused on the world outside the window, not facing anyone.

"She's taking a nap on the sofa in my office," Ellen answered, leaning against the wall, waiting for Dean to face her.

Dean's reaction was sharp, a shocked breath sucked into his chest.

Ellen continued, hoping to make things easier. "I took her to a friend of mine who runs the clinic in town. He checked her over from top to bottom and except for the injuries from the fire, she's a perfectly healthy, well cared for little girl."

"That's good." Dean's reply sounded awkward and dazed, as if he couldn't express his thoughts. Keeping his eyes pointed toward the view outside, he said, "So she's right over there, in your office."

Sam squeezed his brother's shoulder, sharing his relief. He'd expected Ellen to say the child was gone. It might have been a deathblow to Dean's psyche, which had been held together with weak threads over the past few years.

"Dean, you okay?" Sam leaned in, trying to read his brother's face. It was pale and stunned as if he couldn't divert enough energy from thought to breathe.

"Uh, yeah," Dean shook himself lightly. "I'm good."

Ellen folded her arms in front of her and continued providing information. "I had them take a DNA swab from her at the clinic and now that you're here, he can get your sample and rush a test through the lab they use. Then we can find out if you're her father or not." Ellen looked back toward the door to her office.

"Okay," Dean answered, raking his hand across his face.

"She should be up soon from her nap. Why don't I go check and bring her out here so you can meet her?" Ellen waited for his response and got only a deep nod from Dean's bowed head. "There is something else you need to know about Emily before you see her. I don't want you to be caught off guard."

That drew Dean's full attention away from the afternoon sun beating against the glass. "What?"

"Emily stopped talking after the fire. Lindsey said she was a chatterbox before but not a sound since. She can't tell us what happened." Ellen watched Dean struggle through a thousand sorrowful emotions before he could summon the will to speak again. "She's wounded, Dean, physically and emotionally."

"I need to go outside for a minute." He bit out the words then stormed through the front door, Sam on his heels.

Sam barely caught the heavy wooden door before it slammed back toward his face. Dean had stormed out onto the porch, his steps pounding against the planks. His trajectory was first pointed toward the Impala. The keys were in his hands but he jerked his body to a stop on the top step. Back tracking, he began to pace back and forth across the porch.

"Dean, man, we'll figure this out," Sam said, trying to match Dean's erratic pacing.

"Figure out what, Sam?" Dean was on his second lap to the end of the railing and back. "Figure out that a woman who claimed to have my kid was burned alive? Figure out if that's the reason she's dead? Sounds like that part's already pretty plain."

"We don't know why she's dead, Dean," Sam answered, still trying to keep pace with his brother's frantic steps. "It could have been an accident."

"Bullshit!" Dean shouted. "When has it ever been a fucking accident when someone we know is burned alive? Tell me that?"

"Never." Sam couldn't argue with that logic. "We'll have to figure this out later, but right now, there's something more important to deal with. A kid. Damn, Dean, do think you could really be this kid's father?"

Dean stopped stalking over the planks and faced out into the empty dust covered parking lot. The August heat pounded against both of them. "You're gonna think I'm one stupid sonofabitch, Little Brother, because there is definitely a chance I could be this kid's father, for real."

"Wait, are you saying you remember her mother now?" Sam stood beside his brother, soaking in the blistering heat.

"No, but that year, I mean, I wasn't exactly what you'd call the poster boy for safe sex," Dean said, closing his eyes against the dust that blew up in front of them.

"You kinda had a lot on your mind, dude." Sam wanted to spare Dean some of the self-loathing his brother was already assembling.

"Nice, after I lectured you since you were fifteen about suiting up before you dove in, right?"

"What do you want to do? You tell me, and I'm behind you, Dean." Sam reached to touch Dean's shoulder again only to have him pull away.

"You know what I want to do? I want to rewind to '07 and not be such a selfish, cowardly prick that screws a bunch of women to make himself feel better. Or, how 'bout this. I want to get in that car and drive. How's that sound? Really something for a kid to look up to, right?" Dean had the keys in his hand again, clutching them to keep the metal from rattling in his shaking fingers.

"You and I both know you're not going anywhere," Sam said, staring straight at his brother.

"I know." Dean stuffed the keys back into his pocket. "But, Sammy, what do I do now? I swear to God, I don't know what to do here." The look on Dean's face was part white-knuckle fear, part shame, and part deep sorrow.

Dean was lost and looking to Sam for answers. It was a rare occurrence when Dean asked for any kind of guidance from anyone. He made his own decisions, his own choices, always. Today, things were turned upside down and Sam understood that his answer had better be the right one.

"First, you don't freak out until we know what the DNA test says. That'll tell us if you're that kid's dad or if we need to go find him. Second, you go in there and meet Emily." Sam was keeping his voice strong. It was odd to be laying out a plan for Dean to follow. "Third, let me look into this whole thing and see what I can find. We'll work it like a case, okay?" Sam watched with shock as Dean merely shook his head in agreement. "I got your back."

Dean closed his eyes and leaned his head back in silence. After a long, deep breath, he said, "I know you do, Sammy."

TBC