A/N: Thanks to sallyloveslinus, Catsluver, and skzb, the best betas anyone could ever ask for.
Thanks to those who reviewed as guests. Your comments are welcomed and adored. The rest of you already know I love you!
Chapter 22
TJ walked into the living room and saw her dad holding a large bag of rock salt, pouring it on all the windowsills and across the threshold of the front door. She glanced into the kitchen and saw her mother doing the same to the back door. What the hell was going on?
Her mother jerked her head toward the dining room, where the pocket doors were open. "Go check on Sam."
TJ didn't hesitate. He'd been so distraught. She'd thought his ramblings had been the fever talking, but the fact that her parents were doing his bidding without question and pouring salt everywhere was baffling.
When she walked into the converted dining room, Sam was sitting in his wheelchair next to Sami Joy's crib. He was still clad in only his gray sweatpants, his muscular torso bare and shimmering from sweat in the soft glow of the Winnie the Pooh nightlight that was plugged into the nearby wall outlet.
The sight of Sam caused TJ's stomach to flutter, and she admonished herself. What was wrong with her? He was sick, not to mention the fact that something very weird was going on, and now was not the time for her treacherous hormones to be lusting after him.
Rocket, who was sitting by Sam's side, came over to her and gave a furtive wag of his tail. TJ scratched his head, grateful for the distraction.
There were two natural-wood cribs in the room, and a twin slept in each one. Both cribs were outfitted with hydraulic motors that raised the mattresses up so Sam could reach the babies over the railing while in his chair. TJ was told the cribs were gifts from Dean and Bobby, both mechanics, who had figured out how to install the motors.
The babies were sleeping soundly on their backs, their mattresses lowered so that they were safely below the tops of the rails. Each twin had on a SleepSack—pink for Sami Joy and blue for Robby—which were essentially wearable blankets. Their little hands were curled into loose fists that rested by their heads. They looked sweet and adorable.
It hit her in that moment that Sam was right when he'd said the time she was missing with Robby and Sami Joy was time she would never get back. She got a lump in her throat. The twins were half hers, her flesh and blood, and they were beautiful, precious gifts. She needed to get to know them. She wanted to get to know them. Why had she been so resistant? She'd been overwhelmed, confused, devastated even, but that was no excuse. She was their mother, for God's sake, and it was time she started acting like it.
One of Sam's arms was draped over the top of the rail of Sami Joy's crib, and his forehead rested on his arm. He was staring through the slats in the railing at Sami Joy's chest, watching her breathe.
TJ tentatively walked over to Robby's crib and barely touched Robby's belly with her palm, feeling the warmth of his little body and the reassuring rise and fall of his chest.
"They're okay," Sam whispered. He seemed a little surprised and profoundly relieved. His head still rested against his arm, and the burst of energy he'd exhibited when he'd woken from his nightmare was gone. His broad shoulders were slumped, and he looked utterly exhausted and drained, on the verge of collapse.
TJ moved closer to him and placed a hand on his bare shoulder. He was shivering, despite the heat radiating from his skin. "Sam," she whispered, "we need to get you back in bed."
He stayed there for a second, not moving, but then he wearily leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes with a wince.
"Is your head hurting?"
He gave a listless nod.
"Come on, then," she whispered, bending near his ear. "Would you...like me to push you?" She was surprised and worried when he again nodded. She got the feeling he wouldn't normally let himself be pushed.
They all congregated back in Sam's room. Both of Sam's legs had begun to spasm, and he eyed the bed warily from his chair. TJ could see that he dreaded the transfer.
"Son, you need some help gettin' back into bed?" Vern offered.
Sam shook his head. "No. I got it." With shaky arms that made TJ a little nervous, he managed to transfer himself onto the bed, despite his jiggling legs. No one really said anything else until after TJ helped him get settled, pillows in place. He was shivering even more, and Fern insisted that he put on a sweatshirt before TJ covered him to his chin with the quilt.
TJ sat on the bed next to him and brushed a few strands of damp hair from his face. At some point, Fern had gotten a cool, damp washrag from the bathroom, and she handed it to TJ. TJ folded it and placed it on his forehead. He closed his eyes.
"I think you need another dose of NyQuil," said TJ. "And I'm takin' you to the doctor tomorrow."
He opened his eyes. "N-no. No doctor." His teeth were chattering and he was fighting a cough.
She rolled her eyes. "Yes, the doctor. Your fever is up and you woke with a nosebleed, for heaven's sake. That can't be good. Plus, it's obvious you've got a bad headache"
He shook his head. "Don't wanna g-go to the doctor. S' just a cold."
She thought of Dean's warning, how Sam might be more susceptible to an infection. She was taking Sam to the doctor tomorrow if she and her dad had to drag him there, but she wasn't about to tell Sam that. She didn't want to cause him any more stress. He'd had enough for one night. She'd tackle the doctor issue in the morning.
Fern appeared by Sam's bed and handed TJ a small, plastic measuring cup with bluish green liquid in it. "Here's the NyQuil, hon."
Sam was looking at TJ through half-open lids.
"Cheers," she told him with a look of sympathy. She held the cup to his lips and supported his head with her other hand so he could take the medicine. He took it stoically without even a grimace, although she knew from personal experience that the stuff tasted awful.
"I'm gonna hit the hay. Goodnight, y'all," said Vern.
Fern bent down and gave Sam a motherly kiss on his forehead. "Rest easy, sugar."
"Thanks," he rasped. He sounded stopped up.
Fern gave TJ a squeeze on the shoulder and then left with Vern.
Once they were gone, TJ grabbed a tissue from the nightstand and held it to Sam's nose. "Blow."
His hands appeared from under the covers, and he took the tissue from her with his long fingers and blew his nose, then tossed the tissue in the trashcan by his bed before burying his hands back under the covers. TJ didn't see any blood on the tissue and was relieved that his nosebleed hadn't lasted long.
"I guess I'll say goodnight, too."
He blinked languidly. "'Kay." His shivering finally seemed to be subsiding, although his legs were still spasming. TJ tried not to pay it any mind.
Rocket was once again by Sam's side on the bed, curled into a ball. There was no reason for her to stay, but she didn't want to go. "So, are you gonna be okay?"
"Yeah."
She hesitated, still not making a move to leave. "That was...a pretty bad dream. It must have been very vivid to get you so upset."
Sam's expression was unreadable. "It was."
"Do you...wanna talk about it?"
He coughed, and a large fist suddenly appeared from under the bedspread to cover his mouth. "No," he croaked, and there was weariness in his tone that seemed to go deeper than just exhaustion.
She wanted answers, but he didn't seem in any condition for the third degree, and it was four o'clock in the morning. Now didn't seem the time to push it. "Okay," she said, and got up to leave.
His hand shot out and he caught her wrist. She felt a current of warmth ripple through her.
"I'm cold."
His words contradicted the jolt of heat she'd just gotten from him. "You're not shivering anymore," she challenged.
There was a roguish gleam in his eye, despite how obviously tired and crappy he felt. "I'm still cold. It's sometimes hard for me to get my body temp regulated."
"You want another blanket?"
His dimples made a showing and he spoke with innuendo. "Body heat is better."
She poked her cheek with her tongue and held in a smile. "You're kindly transparent," she drawled, having a grammar lapse before she realized what she was saying. She was embarrassed that she'd sounded like a hillbilly in front of him.
He gave her another round of dimples. "I like the way you talk," he said hoarsely, reading her mind. "Your accent is more pronounced than it used to be in San Diego. It used to only come out when you were mad or emotional about something."
"Really?'' she said with raised brows. That was something to consider. Apparently, Other TJ even talked differently. "Sorry. I probably sound like a hick to you."
His eyes darkened into something that made her get that longing feeling deep in her core. "Like I said," he rasped softly, "I like the way you talk."
Her mouth went a little dry and she swallowed. "Um, you need to rest." She tugged on her wrist, but he held on, his eyes not leaving her face.
"Goodnight, Sam," she said pointedly.
"I'm still cold." The steamy look he was giving her was anything but cold.
She leaned in close to him, her nose almost touching his. "I think Rocket will provide all the body heat you need."
He smirked. "Rocket's kindly short. Someone taller would be better."
"I'm not gettin' in bed with you," she declared with an amused smile.
"Can't blame me for trying," he said, as he gently let go of her wrist.
She straightened, tucked his hand back under the covers, and took the now-warm compress from his forehead. "Goodnight, Sam."
He closed his eyes, his lips curved with humor. "Goodnight, TJ."
When she reached the door, she noticed that her nipples were taut and straining against the cotton of her light-blue pajama T-shirt, and she felt herself blush. God, what he did to her. She looked back at him before turning off the light. He was already in a NyQuil-and-fever-induced slumber. She would let him rest for now, but tomorrow she wanted answers from someone, and she wouldn't stop until she got them.
XXXXXXXX
It wasn't even daylight yet when TJ heard the door to her parents' room open, and she knew her mother would be going to tend to Robby and Sami Joy. A glance at the alarm clock confirmed that it was five-thirty in the morning. Who needs an alarm clock when you have the twins? TJ mused.
She got out of bed, threw on an unfamiliar black SDSU sweatshirt over her T-shirt just in case her nipples decided to vie for attention, and headed to the kitchen. On her way, she peeked in at Sam. He was still asleep, but Rocket jumped off the bed and trotted out the door TJ held open, ready for his morning constitutional.
There was coffee perking in the Mr. Coffee when she reached the kitchen. Her dad was preparing two baby bottles, scooping out Enfamil and mixing it with water, and Fern was in the dining room cooing to the babies. One of them was crying, and TJ frowned, feeling a strong urge to see what was going on, to soothe.
Vern looked at her knowingly. "That's Sami Joy. She don't like gettin' her diaper changed. I suspect she don't like the cold air on her bottom."
"Oh." She watched her dad make the bottles. "Aren't you supposed to heat those or something?"
"Nope. That's a myth. If they'll take 'em at room temperature, it makes things easier. You don't have to worry about bottle warmers or microwaves. You just mix and go."
TJ nodded faintly as she let Rocket outside. She frowned when she saw that she'd disturbed the line of salt across the threshold of the back door, and she was reminded of why she'd gotten up with the rooster.
Vern didn't seem to notice and went on talking about the twins. "It took them awhile to learn to suck on the bottle, but now they're pros—and they're sure not lacking any in their appetites. They'll take that formula any way it comes."
TJ drew in a breath, steeling her nerves. "Daddy, I need to talk to you and Mama about what happened with Sam, and I wanna know the truth about him."
Vern was screwing a silicon nipple onto one of the bottles, and he paused to look up at her. He nodded gravely, like it was time to pay the piper. "I figured as much."
Just then, Fern walked into the kitchen carrying Robby in his bouncer and set him on the breakfast counter. "TJ, run and get Sami Joy for me, hon."
TJ gave her dad a look that said he was only getting a temporary reprieve and did as she was told, finding Sami Joy in her bouncer in the dining room. Sami Joy was staring at the toys hanging over her head. "Whatcha doin', Sami-girl?" cooed TJ.
Sami Joy's large brown eyes shifted to TJ, already a bit of drool surrounding her mouth. She was wearing a bib that matched the pink footed onesie she was wearing, and TJ dabbed her face with it.
Sami Joy's face lit up with a sweet, dimpled smile, and TJ laughed, her heart filling with delight. She couldn't resist and kissed Sami Joy on the top of her head, smelling the fresh, clean scent of baby shampoo and feeling the baby's silky hair brush her lips. It was divine.
TJ took the baby into the kitchen and set her next to her brother on the counter. Robby, who was in a blue footed onesie, was staring at his fingers as if they were the most fascinating thing on earth. TJ kissed him on his head before she could overthink it or feel self-conscious and made a note to herself that she really needed to expand the babies' wardrobe beyond pink and blue.
Vern set the bottles on the counter, and Fern started taking Robby out of his bouncer and then held him in the crook of her arm. "You wanna feed Sami Joy?" she asked TJ.
TJ felt a twinge of apprehension.
Fern rolled her eyes. "Hon, if your daddy can do it, you can."
Vern looked indignant. "I don't know what to make of that remark."
"Nothin', hon," Fern said, patting his arm. "You're an expert."
He eyed her suspiciously.
TJ unhooked the harness that held Sami Joy in the bouncer and carefully pulled her out, holding her in the crook of her arm the way Fern held Robby. She grabbed one of the bottles off the counter.
"You might want to sit down at the table," suggested Vern. "It's easier that way."
TJ sat down at the farm table, and Fern sat down near her. TJ watched Fern, copying her movements, and soon Sami Joy and Robby were both nursing greedily at their bottles.
TJ laughed. "I can't believe how loud they are."
"Mm-hm," said Fern, smiling fondly. She peered at TJ. "You're doin' good."
TJ stared at the little girl in her arms, making eye contact with her, and she suddenly understood the look of wonder and love she'd seen on Sam's face whenever he held the twins. She realized the person she'd hurt the most by refusing to interact with the twins was herself. She was an idiot for denying herself moments like this—all because she'd felt sorry for herself and had been a coward.
"When the bottle is about half gone," said Vern after a few minutes, "you might want to switch arms so she sees you from a different angle. It has to do with how it helps their eyes develop better or something." He looked to Fern for confirmation.
Fern nodded. "That's what the nurses said. Plus, it helps her little tummy if you try to burp her about half way, too."
Since Sami Joy had already drunk about half the bottle, TJ gently broke the baby's latch on the nipple and set the bottle on the table, then shifted Sami Joy to her shoulder.
"Here," said Vern, placing a burp cloth between Sami Joy's cheek and TJ's shoulder.
TJ began to pat Sami Joy lightly on the back.
Vern looked dissatisfied. "Uh-uh. You're gonna have to be firmer than that. Watch how your mama's doin' it." Fern was patting Robby firmly enough on the back that TJ could hear the gentle thumps.
TJ was afraid to pat any harder. "I—I don't want to hurt her."
"You won't," Vern said with encouragement. "She's tougher than she looks."
TJ tried to emulate Fern, patting Sami Joy more firmly on the back. Vern showed TJ how to put the baby higher on her shoulder so that there would be a little more pressure on Sami Joy's tummy that might help her burp faster. TJ couldn't believe that the simple act of burping a baby could be so complicated. She had a lot to learn.
Finally, Sami Joy gave a robust burp. "Goodness," said TJ in a silly, munchkin voice, "do you feel better?"
Fern and Vern both laughed. TJ blushed, feeling a little self-conscious for some reason.
"You wanna switch with me and feed Robby for a while?" asked Fern.
TJ nodded, and she and Fern switched babies. TJ held Robby and began feeding him. His lighter, dusky blue eyes locked onto hers, and TJ loved the smacking noise he made as he nursed the bottle and the idly graceful way he opened and closed his tiny fingers. She was just as smitten with Robby as she'd been with Sami Joy.
They were all quiet for a few minutes, content to watch the babies nurse. Then TJ happened to glance at the windowsill and noticed the salt on it. She could see it through the gauzy, sheer curtains, the salt glistening in the first light of the newly-rising sun. She felt a quiver of unease and cleared her throat. "So, are you gonna tell me what's up with all the salt everywhere?"
Fern and Vern shared a look, and neither of them spoke.
"And don't tell me to ask Sam," TJ said preemptively. Robby stopped nursing, and she set the bottle down on the table and shifted him to her shoulder so she could burp him. "I want answers. It was weird last night how you two did what Sam said without even questioning it."
Still, Vern and Fern were silent and tight-lipped.
"Come on, y'all. I have a right to know. What's the big secret? Somebody needs to fuckin' tell me."
"Watch your mouth, TJ, especially around these babies," admonished Fern.
"Sorry," said TJ, genuinely chastened. "But I wanna know what's goin' on."
Fern sighed. "Have you tried talking to Sam?"
"Yes. I asked him how he got hurt."
"What did he tell you?" asked Vern.
TJ huffed. "He said he got stabbed by a poltergeist. He was obviously trippin' on NyQuil."
Again, her parents shared a look, and then Vern trained serious, piercing blue eyes on her. "He wasn't high on NyQuil. He was tellin' the truth."
TJ didn't know what to think of that, couldn't comprehend it, and she just sat there, staring dumbly at her parents.
Fern continued, her tone quiet. "Sam and his brother were hunters."
"Hunters?" TJ tried to picture Sam in typical hunting garb—camouflage and an orange hunting cap—but it just didn't fit him. He was too citified and not redneck enough. She started to feel uneasy. Something didn't jive here, and what did it all have to do with a poltergeist and salt?
Vern shook his head a little and seemed to read her thoughts. "Sam and Dean weren't regular hunters, not like deer or turkey hunters. They didn't hunt animals—well, not regular kinds of animals. I think Dean still hunts occasionally, and Sam sometimes helps with research."
TJ frowned. "Why would Sam have to do research to go hunting?" Remembering the scars she'd seen on him, her unease grew. "And exactly what kinds of animals did they hunt?" she added.
Fern and Vern shared an uneasy look. Finally, Fern was the one who spoke. "They hunted supernatural things like ghosts, werewolves, vampires—basically anything you've ever read about in bedtime stories or seen in horror movies." She grew solemn. "Sam and Dean were trying to get rid of a poltergeist in a house that was haunted when the poltergeist made a knife fly through the air and stab Sam in the back."
TJ blinked and her stomach clenched. The visual of Sam being stabbed was extremely disturbing, even if there was no way it could really be true. What the hell? And her parents actually believed this? Stabbed by a poltergeist? The notion was insane.
Good God Almighty, when was she going to wake up to her normal life? How was she going to escape this strange alternate reality she'd woken up to? Just when she was beginning to come to terms with things, with the twins and maybe even Sam, her parents laid this on her? Maybe they'd gone crazy like Aunt Liv. Maybe aliens had invaded Earth and caused all parents to go nuts. Why not? That was as feasible as what her parents had just told her about Sam.
Her dad was gazing steadily at her, watching her closely. "Sam also hunted demons."
Oh, demons. Of course.
"One actually targeted Sam and wanted him to lead Lucifer's army."
Lucifer's army. Naturally. TJ fought a surge of hysteria, almost laughing at the macabre idea of Sam leading the devil's army.
"The Yellow-Eyed Demon—that's what they call him—almost killed you, Dean, and Bobby. That was when you first found out about Sam's past."
Almost killed her? Holy shit! She wanted her dad to stop talking. Each time he spoke, something even weirder came out of his mouth.
Fern reached over and squeezed TJ's arm. "I know it's hard to believe, but you're the one who told us all of this, TJ. You knew about it. You saw it firsthand."
TJ shook her head in denial. This was too much. This was crazy.
"The salt is to keep the demons and ghosts out," said Vern. "For some reason—something about salt being a pure element—they can't get past a line of it. Sam..." He trailed off and glanced at Fern like he was looking for help.
Ferna Sue's hand still rested on TJ's arm, and she gave it another squeeze. "Sam warned us a while ago that we might have to salt the windows and doors, that we might find ourselves in danger because of his past. So when he told us to do it last night, we didn't question him. I think he probably did just have a bad dream, but better to be safe than sorry. Plus, he seemed so riled up and terrified for the twins, it was better to humor him than to upset him more."
TJ was suddenly furious. "I don't believe any of this. It's all bullshit. Sam is a conman or something, and y'all have fallen for his lies hook, line, and sinker!"
Vern looked at her with dismay, but he spoke patiently. "Sam is not a liar. He's a good man. He was raised in the hunting life and was a damn good hunter until he got hurt. He and Dean risked their lives countless times to save others, to try to rid the world of evil."
TJ finally lost control and burst into laughter that was both cynical and a bit unhinged. "Do you realize how ridiculous that sounds? 'Rid the world of evil'? It sounds like a line from a Superman movie or something. What? Are Sam and Dean friggin' superheroes?"
Aggravation flashed in Vern's bright blue eyes, but he spoke evenly. "Not superheroes. Just flesh-and-blood men doing a thankless job. They lost their father to their 'job.' Sam sustained a devastating injury because of it. The demon that came after you also killed his mother when he was a baby. It's a long story that Sam can explain much better than I can, but don't scorn him. He's been through a lot, TJ, and he don't deserve your contempt."
Robby began to fuss, and TJ wondered if he was being affected by the anger and galling bewilderment she felt. She instinctively jiggled him up and down and shushed soothingly into his ear. Once he quieted, she kept her voice even when she spoke to her parents, trying not to upset him further. "Y'all are nuts or else you've fallen for Sam's charm and those puppy-dog eyes of his. The only thing I can't figure out is what's in it for him. I mean, obviously, we aren't exactly rollin' in the dough."
Vern pursed his lips together in frustration.
"TJ," said Fern in a logical tone, "that's your answer right there. What purpose would Sam have to lie? He's your husband, and you've started a family together. Like you said, he didn't marry you for your money. There's no reason for him to make any of this up."
"Unless he's loony as a bedbug."
Fern pressed her lips together in a similar look to Vern, and no one said anything for a moment. Then, finally, Fern spoke. "Do you believe in God?"
"Yes." TJ's tone was cautious.
"Then you believe that He exists," Fern confirmed.
TJ was suspicious and eyed her mother guardedly. "Yes. Of course I believe He exists."
"Then, if you believe in God, do you believe in the possibility of angels?"
TJ realized where Fern was going with this. "Yes, and I believe in the devil and hell and the possibility of demons, too, but that don't mean I'll ever believe that Sam Winchester fought 'em or that one wanted him to lead Lucifer's army!"
"Why not?" asked Vern reasonably. "If God, angels, demons, and the devil can exist, why is it so farfetched that Lucifer could have wanted to recruit Sam for his army? After all, regular people through the ages have been asked by God to do extraordinary things. You just never met one of 'em before. Who's to say Lucifer wouldn't do the same thing?"
Vern's rationale sent a shiver down TJ's spine. "Does—does that mean Sam is evil, then?"
"No," said Vern, shaking his head. "I think he and his brother were too good at fighting evil. I think Lucifer would rather have had Sam on his side than as an enemy, so he tried to persuade Sam to join him. His agent, the Yellow-Eyed Demon, offered Sam a cure for his paralysis. Like I said, it's a long story, but Sam refused the cure and killed the bastard in the process."
TJ's chest tightened and she got a sickening knot in her belly. She couldn't imagine having to make such a choice, and it made her queasy to think of Sam having to do so. Then, after a second, she realized she was actually considering all this nonsense might be true. She shook her head. "I can't—I just can't believe this."
Her mind was reeling with all that her parents had just told her. Was she the only person left in the house that was sane? She was frightened and felt lost again—just when she was starting to find her way. She buried her nose in the tuft of soft, dark hair on Robby's head, inhaling the baby scent of it, needing it. It was soothing and helped to calm her nerves slightly.
Fern's tone was gentle, her green eyes filled with sympathy and understanding. "Now you can see why all of us were hesitant to tell you everything, sugar."
TJ felt like she was about to choke, and she swallowed hard.
"You've been through so much," Fern went on. "You've had so much to deal with and adjust to. We wanted to wait until we thought you were ready before we told you—after you got to know Sam better. And our thinking was that it was Sam's story to tell, that you should hear it from him, but now I'm not so sure. I think maybe it's best you heard it from us first. You know us, TJ. You know we love you, and we would never lie to you."
For a very long moment, TJ just sat there, trying to let everything sink in. This whole conversation was so surreal. Finally, she stood and woodenly handed Robby to Vern. "I—um, I'm gonna go get dressed."
Vern started to speak. "TJ—"
"I—I need time, Daddy. I need to think."
Vern looked leery and Fern was frowning, but as TJ started to leave, neither of them tried to stop her.
On her way to her room, she stopped by Sam's door and quietly opened it. He was still sound asleep, even though it was an hour past when he usually woke up. She studied his face. There was an exotic slant to his eyes that wasn't noticeable when he was awake. His nose was kind of long and pointy in silhouette, but combined with the other attractive, masculine features of the rest of his face, the whole effect was stunningly handsome.
He looked so innocent when he slept, so peaceful. It was hard to believe there could be a dishonest bone in his body, that he could, for some reason, be pulling the wool over her parents' eyes—or that he was certifiably off his rocker. Her parents were right. Barring the possible craziness factor, he had no reason to lie.
He'd done nothing to make her think he was nuts. On the contrary, he seemed to be one of the most grounded, down-to-earth people she'd ever met. She'd never seen him be anything but kind to people and animals alike, had never seen him really lose his temper, although she knew she'd sorely tested it. He'd been nothing but a gentleman to her, even after she'd been such a bitch to him. Then there was the way he was with the twins. He was so good with them and obviously loved them very much. Instinctively, she knew that he would give his life for them and would do anything to protect them.
Of course, who was to say that crazy people didn't love their children too? And weren't a lot of serial killers the normal guy next door that no one ever thought would hurt a fly? The thought was alarming.
Sam stirred a bit and tilted his head on his pillow. A shock of his dark hair fell forward onto his fever-flushed cheek. He didn't look dangerous right now, that was for sure, but the question remained: Was he a conman, a nut job, or a hero?
XXXXXXXX
Later in the day, Sam was asleep again, head lolled back against the headrest of TJ's passenger seat, snoring faintly because of his stopped up nose. TJ pulled into a disabled parking space at Kroger's grocery store, right next to the building, and rolled down the windows. It was hot outside, but the building cast a shadow that provided shade over the car, and a breeze blew through the car's open windows. She hoped Sam would be comfortable and wouldn't wake, but if he did, hopefully he'd figure out that she was inside getting his prescription filled.
She had a moment of uncertainty as she looked at the disabled permit hanging from her rearview mirror. The permit made it legal for her to park in the accessible spot. She didn't have to worry about getting a ticket, but was she being inconsiderate? Sam was with her, but he wasn't getting out. Was she a bad person for parking there since, technically, she didn't need the space? She felt a twinge of guilt but decided she wouldn't be there very long. Besides, there were still two other accessible spaces open, and she wanted Sam to be in the shade.
She got out of the car and shut her door. Sam didn't so much as twitch at the noise. He was out cold. She was relieved and hurried into the store.
Fern had called this morning as soon as the med clinic opened and managed to get Sam worked in to the doctor's schedule. The med clinic was in Colleyville, a town twenty-five minutes away from Moss Fork. Colleyville was bigger than Moss Fork, and people from Moss Fork usually went to the doctor there and did any bigger grocery shopping needed, since the closest Kroger was there. The only grocery store in Moss Fork was a small IGA, and it didn't have a pharmacy.
It was a ten-minute drive from the med clinic to Kroger's, and Sam had conked out the minute he got in the car. The doctor's visit had worn him out. The doctor that saw him, a Dr. Sullivan, suspected that Sam had a sinus infection and an upper respiratory infection and prescribed an antibiotic, plenty of bed rest, and drinking lots of fluids.
Dr. Sullivan warned that if the antibiotic didn't start working within a day or so and Sam didn't get any better, TJ was to bring him back for more extensive tests, that Sam could develop pneumonia if they weren't careful. She hoped the antibiotic would work. Sam hadn't been too thrilled about being dragged to the doctor and had tightened his jaw in resistance. The only thing that had persuaded him to relent was Fern, who told him the sooner he got better, the sooner he could see the twins—but she wasn't letting him near Sami Joy and Robby until he saw the doctor.
He was still asleep when TJ got back to the car, a small white pharmacy bag full of medicine in her hand. She got in, set the bag on the console between her and Sam, and turned the key in the ignition. Then she rolled up the windows and started backing out of the parking space.
The sudden motion of the car moving again finally woke him. His soft, congested snoring was interrupted, and he lifted his head and looked sleepily at his surroundings, green-gold eyes coming to rest on her.
She quirked her brows at him and then pulled onto the road.
He let his head fall back on the headrest, and she thought he was going back to sleep. She was surprised when he spoke.
"You've been quiet," he rasped.
She shrugged. "You were asleep."
"I mean this whole trip. You've hardly said a word." He coughed into his fist.
"There's some cough drops in the bag."
He didn't make a move toward the bag. Instead, he placed his hand on top of hers, which was resting on the gearshift. Heat radiated from him into her and she felt suddenly feverish, even though she wasn't sick.
"I know what happened last night probably seemed strange."
She stiffened.
"There's...there's a lot of things I need to tell you, TJ, but I..." He trailed off and ran his other hand absently through his long hair.
"You what?"
His brow furrowed into that soulful look of his. She tried to steel herself against it, but it was hard. He looked so earnest, like a lie could never come from his lips. She turned her gaze back to the road.
"I don't want to scare you."
She snorted and moved her hand out from under his, grabbing the steering wheel. "Oh, why would I be scared?" she said with false lightness. "You mean because you and Dean used to fight ghosts and demons? Because Lucifer wanted you to lead his army?"
He was silent.
She dropped the light tone and got serious. "My parents told me about what you and Dean used to do—how you got hurt. I guess you weren't loopy on NyQuil after all when you told me a poltergeist stabbed you."
Her attention was on the road, but she could feel him studying her.
"So...do you believe your parents?" He sounded wary.
She hesitated. She'd had a little more time to process it all, but she still wasn't sure what to think. She trusted her parents and had always looked to them for guidance. They weren't the type to be easily duped, yet there was no doubt they were behind Sam one hundred percent. Nevertheless, Sam's alleged past was just so fantastical, so farfetched. She was having a hard time wrapping her mind around it.
Finally, she decided to be honest. "I don't know what to believe. It's all so strange. But, like my mom pointed out, I believe in God and angels, so I guess it's not that much of a stretch to believe you could've had a run-in with a demon."
"Did Fern and Vern—did they tell you everything?"
She shrugged. "I don't know. They glossed over some things. They said you could explain things better, like the whole Lucifer-and-his-army thing."
He grimaced and pinched the bridge of his nose, then let his hand drop and looked at her wearily. "Did they tell you about the blood?"
Well, that sounded ominous. She frowned. "What blood?"
He let out a long sigh, which resulted in a cough. He searched the pharmacy bag and took what seemed like forever to procure a cough drop. Then he stared straight ahead at the windshield and didn't say anything.
TJ could smell the menthol of his cough drop and hear the drop clack occasionally against his teeth. He was quiet for so long that she grew impatient. "What blood? What are you talking about?"
He let out another congested sigh before he began. "I don't—I don't understand all of it myself. My mother was killed when I was six months old." He said it in a flat tone, like he was remembering an old, deep pain that left him hollow and bone-tired. "She was trying to save me from Azazel, a demon that my dad always called the Yellow-Eyed Demon. Azazel—he—it was cruel, the way he murdered my mother. My dad spent the rest of his life trying to kill the demon and avenge my mother's death."
"Why you? What did the demon want with you?"
"I was one of the 'chosen' children,'" he said bitterly. "My mother walked in on the demon dripping his blood into my mouth."
TJ was so morbidly engrossed in his story that she forgot to pay attention to driving. The car veered onto the shoulder, and she quickly corrected it and turned her eyes back to the road. "What—I don't understand. I mean, that's disgusting and disturbing, but what would ingesting demon blood do to you?"
"It...tainted me." His jaw hardened. "No one knew for a long time because my mom wasn't alive to tell the tale, but..." He trailed off and waited a beat to speak. "It's so fucked up, TJ. After high school, I got a full scholarship to Stanford. I did most of my undergrad there."
Mercy. She'd been impressed that he'd gotten a full ride to Berkeley Law. No one had told her he did his undergrad at Stanford. He must be a freakin' genius. "Wow."
He shrugged. "I didn't graduate from Stanford. I finished the last of my undergrad requirements at SDSU."
"Why didn't you graduate from Stanford?"
"I had a girlfriend there. Her name was Jessica, and I loved her very much. I was gonna ask her to marry me."
She felt a pang of something that was suspiciously like jealousy, and it made her uncomfortable. "What happened?"
"The demon killed her the same way he killed my mother. He pinned her to the ceiling of our apartment and set her on fire."
TJ was horrified. "Good God Almighty. Why?"
Sam closed his eyes, a pained grimace on his face. "She got in the way of Lucifer's plans. He was grooming me and others like me to be his soldiers. Azazel said I was his favorite because I grew up as a hunter, but I wanted to leave the hunting life. I wanted a normal life with Jessica—the white-picket fence, 2.5 kids, the works—but Lucifer wanted me hunting, honing my skills as a soldier. So, Azazel killed her. She died because of me."
Any feelings of jealousy for Jessica—if that's even what TJ had felt—died instantly, and she was filled with empathy for what Sam must have gone through. "I'm so sorry."
He went on. "I left Stanford the fall semester of my senior year and got back into hunting with Dean. I wanted revenge. I wanted to find Azazel and roast him on a spit." His expression was stony. "I played right into his hands."
"What do you mean?"
"He knew I would get back into hunting if he killed Jessica. That's what he wanted." He smiled darkly without mirth. "He just didn't count on a poltergeist stabbing me in the back and sending me into early retirement."
TJ was utterly astounded. This was even worse and way more frightening than what her parents had told her, but she was starting to believe. It was too horrific to make up, and the anguish and smoldering hatred just under the surface of Sam's stoic facade was genuine. She could feel it deep in her core.
"At first, after my injury, Azazel left me alone. I didn't—" He stopped abruptly and swallowed like there was something distasteful in his mouth. Then he looked at her, eyes tormented. "Right before Jess died, I started having visions."
"Visions, like, of the future?"
He nodded. "Mostly, I saw people dying. Dean and I tried to save them, but we were too late a lot of the time. I even...I even saw Jess's death before it happened."
"Oh, my Lord, Sam." What an awful thing to have to live with.
"It wasn't just the visions. A few times, I was able to move things—objects—with my mind."
"Holy shit." What was he gonna say next? She was almost to the point of no longer being shocked anymore.
"After my spinal cord injury, it all stopped. At the time, I didn't know why. I didn't know anything about Azazel until almost a year into my injury. Then he showed up one day and made me an offer."
"A cure if you'd lead Lucifer's army?"
His brows came together but then he nodded. "Your parents told you?"
"Yeah. I'm so sorry. I can't imagine how difficult that choice must have been."
A myriad of emotions flashed across his face as he remembered, but he shrugged it off. "We're talking the end of the world or me living with paraplegia. It was kind of a no-brainer."
She was overwhelmed by his strength of will and his selflessness. Her dad had been right. Sam's middle name was sacrifice. "Right. A no-brainer." She looked at him, shaking her head with admiration and disbelief. What was the proper way to thank someone for single-handedly stopping Lucifer? She settled for simplicity. "Just the same, on behalf of the entire world and myself, thanks."
He huffed a raspy laugh.
It was a relief to see his dimples. "So," she said, "you killed Azazel and then what?"
"Then you and I fell in love and we went on with our lives—until you got pregnant."
"And then I had a stroke and fell into a coma and woke up a fuckin' eighteen-year-old."
He looked guilty. "It's more complicated than that."
She burst out laughing, and it felt good to release the tension that had been building inside her. "That's already pretty dang complicated, if you ask me."
He grinned. "Welcome to life with a Winchester."
"So how is it more complicated?"
The grin on his face dissolved, and he blew out a long puff of air. "The demon blood in me—I don't—I don't know much about it. My hope was that the powers or whatever you want to call them—the visions and the telekinesis that came with the blood—died with Azazel, but when you were pregnant..." He searched her face and then looked down. It was clear he didn't want to finish what he was saying.
She didn't know if she wanted to hear it. She concentrated on driving, afraid to look at him.
He started coughing, despite the cough drop in his mouth, and it was a moment before he could speak again. The coughing spell seemed to wear him out, and he rested his head against the headrest.
She'd forgotten during their conversation how sick he really was, and she felt guilty. "You should take your antibiotic."
He smiled tiredly and his voice suddenly sounded much hoarser. "We're talking about me having demon blood and friggin' magical powers, and you're worried I haven't taken my medicine?"
She gave him a wry look. "Well, apparently you're human enough to succumb to a nasty cold. If you die in the car on the way to the farm, demon powers or no, Fern will kill me."
The corners of his mouth twitched. "Right."
It took him a minute to open the package and dry-swallow the antibiotic pill, and TJ's curiosity started to get the better of her by the time he was done. "So, what were you gonna say about when I was pregnant?"
He took another moment, like he was gathering his thoughts. "Because of my paralysis, the odds of me fathering a child are one in a billion. When you got pregnant, I was afraid that the demon blood was somehow coming into play."
"You mean, like, it supercharged your little swimmers?"
He gave her a half-smile that didn't hold much humor. "Uh, yeah. Something like that."
"But I thought you said the powers died when you killed Azazel."
"I said I hoped they died. I didn't know for sure. Then, when you were pregnant, the twins kept thriving and you kept getting sicker. It was like the bigger they got, the weaker you got."
She frowned, her insides beginning to twist. "What are you saying, Sam?"
He shifted his shoulders, like he was uncomfortable. "I thought I'd passed the demon blood on to them and that your body couldn't handle it, that the demon blood in them was killing you."
She shivered, suddenly feeling drained of all her body heat.
"I don't think that now," he said quickly. "I mean, Robby and Sami Joy—the first time I ever held them, I knew that wasn't the case, that there was no way they could have something evil inside them."
She was relieved by that, although a nasty voice in her subconscious said that he had no tangible evidence that was true, other than a father's love. But she'd held the twins too. They were little angels. She had begun to feel something maternal for them, and she wanted to believe him.
"So what about the demon blood?" she asked. "Do you still think it's in you?"
Again, he clenched his jaw and looked down. "It's been a very long time since I...uh...moved anything with my mind, and I haven't had any visions since Azazel died." He turned to her, hazel eyes penetrating. "Until last night."
She swallowed a big fat lump of trepidation. "What do you mean?"
"I don't think I had a nightmare. I think it was a vision. Before, when I got visions, they would cause splitting headaches, sometimes even migraines, and make my nose bleed."
She shook her head. "You've got a sinus infection, Sam. That's more likely what caused your headache and nosebleed last night, not to mention the fever."
"It was so vivid, TJ, so real."
"What did you see?"
His brow furrowed, and there was dread in his eyes. "Someone—or something—took the twins. Fern put them down for a nap, and when I went to check on them, they were gone—vanished."
TJ was so scared and rattled by that that she almost missed the turnoff to go to the farm and had to slam on the brakes. Sam braced his hands against the dash.
"Sorry," she said.
His mouth was in a tight line, but she knew the expression on his face had more to do with the memory of the nightmare or whatever it was than the fact that she'd almost given them both whiplash. She was shaken by what he'd told her and pulled over to the shoulder of the road in order to compose herself.
They were both quiet until TJ broke the silence. "So, if it was a vision that you had last night, then...do you think the twins are in some kind of danger?"
His gaze was intense and grim. "Yes."
She felt ill and didn't want to voice her other fear, was afraid to say it out loud. Because if it was a vision Sam had last night instead of a nightmare, what did that say about the demon blood, and what did it mean for him and the twins?
TBC