Sorry, all. I haven't had the slightest inkling to write these past couple of weeks. I'm trying though. You have no idea how many times I re-wrote this damn chapter.
Well, enjoy!
Ben felt restless, an urgency zinging through his veins. There's an itch under his skin and he has no idea how to deal with it. He can't ask Krissy because she's recuperating from a job gone awry. She's fine. She just needs a few weeks of R&R, and that is asking a lot considering their line of work. The painkillers he managed to procure for her have knocked her out but it's helping her heal faster.
He just . . . he feels like he needs to do something. Go somewhere. Now.
That urge has been slowly but surely gotten harder and harder to ignore. He wants to go home so bad and ask Logan or the Sheriff what to do but what if it isn't safe to go home? He could be endangering everyone there. He won't let that be on his conscience.
This big bad, he has no idea what it is or how long it'll take for his dad and uncle to beat it, and he has no way to contact them to tell them to hurry their asses up. He wants to go home already. This whole traveling hunter thing sounds good on paper but the constant moving and scrounging for money, food and lodging is exhausting. How does his dad and uncle do it? There must be a trick to it that he or doesn't Krissy don't know about.
Oh, and the constant danger of death is a real downer. That he can do without. It's hell on his nerves. He'll have a head of gray hair by the time he's in his twenties. Or a heart attack.
A twitchy mess is what Ben'll by the time he's old enough to drink. He'd see enemies everywhere. Jumping at every little shadow and noise like he was suffering from PTSS. That is not a good life. Not for him anymore. He no longer romanticizes the hunting life. He just wants to go home.
He'll keep hunting for Krissy though. He'll do anything for her.
But what he wants is a home base. He wants to be able to go home and shrug off the Hunter and just be Ben Braeden, high school student whose biggest problems are trying to get all his homework in on time. Oh, and who to ask to senior prom. That would be Krissy, obviously, but the stress of whether or not wondering if she'd even want to go would be the problem. Like, would she be mad that he had the audacity to think she'd go to something as juvenile as a high school prom or would she be mad that he thought she wouldn't want to go to something normal as a high school prom?
Oh great, now he's stressing about an event that might not even happen. At least not with him being gone for almost a year. He could get his GED but that feels like he failed instead of finding another path to success. Getting kidnapped by a ghost for his safety is a fantastic excuse, unfortunately, most people don't believe in the paranormal, and would most likely send him to the psych ward instead of letting him repeat a year.
Maybe that's what he's restless for: a normal life.
Or safety.
Security.
Something permanent. Stable.
Living such a transient life, Ben feels his soul getting weary, and he's only been hunting for a couple of months! How Krissy managed for years is beyond his ken. Or even his dad and uncle.
They're like supermen. Super people? Kryptonians? The last sons and daughters of Krypton?
God, he needs to get out.
Ben quickly wrote a note for Krissy to let her know he went for a run. He doesn't want her waking up and not finding him by her side and thinking something happened to him. She shouldn't worry about him when she should be sleeping and healing from their last job, and he is a little irked that she thinks he can't handle himself without her to protect him.
A few months ago, yeah, he would have needed her help and he'd've been the first one to admit it. But now? Ben knows how to handle himself because of Krissy. He doesn't need her to protect him all the time.
Changing into his running clothes, Ben quietly closed the door behind him, and started stretching a bit before setting off in a light jog to get his blood pumping. He'd wait a mile before he really started running. He has some energy to work off. He might even go find a gym and box a bit, and then swinging by a bistro or something and pick up some food.
Krissy's been craving cheese fries so maybe he'll pick that up for her and he'll get himself disco fries. Possibly a burger as well for both of them.
There's this diner just off of main street that has the best disco fries outside of the east coast.
Ben discovered it their second night here. The food is worth the price.
Clearing his mind, Ben allowed himself to fall into the rhythm of running and let everything fall away, and when it felt like the pace he kept wasn't helping with expelling all his pent up energy, he kicked it up a notch. He ran for three miles before he all out sprinted for another mile.
He ended up on a forest trail completely lost. Not that he was worried. Krissy taught him enough to find his way back, and he remembers having the sun on his left the entire run. So, all he needs to do to get back is to keep the sun on his right and walk/jog back into town. He should be back to their hotel in an hour, maybe less. He really should have brought his watch with him.
If he's not back within an acceptable time period, Krissy will drag herself out of bed and come looking for him, and when she finds him, he'll get an earful that'll have him hearing ringing for a long, long time.
Bringing a water bottle would have been smart. Although, in his defense, he didn't expect to run for as long or as far as he did.
And the worst part? He still feels like he needs to run. To get away, to keep moving, and he doesn't know why. Hell, he's even fighting the urge to keep running...away from town. Which meant running away from Krissy.
It could be Jo trying to tell him something or it could be the Big Bad manipulating his feelings and it's herding Ben towards it. This is why Ben gets so damn pissed off when people keep things from him, and they claim it's for his own safety but, in all honesty, it leaves Ben floundering in the dark with little to no information on how to proceed. Indulging in the urge could be the right call or it could put him in the position of damsel, waiting for his dad to come save him.
Or his dad just might not come.
What if the Big Bad does manage to kidnap him, and his dad doesn't come to his rescue? What will he do then? What would be the point? He's spent this last year thinking of only of his father coming to get him so they could be a family again. What if his dad doesn't care?
...What if his dad dies trying to save him?
He can't tell Krissy this, she'll think he's an idiot, but for all she says she understands, Krissy doesn't know what it's like to be unsure of a parent's love. She knew her dad loved her unconditionally but Ben doesn't know that for sure. For all he knows, his dad was happy to leave him and his mom behind. That would explain him staying out of their lives and taking their memories away.
It doesn't matter what Jody and 'em said about his dad caring about him. Where's the proof? What exactly has his father done that showed that he gives a damn about Ben?
There could have been a number of ways for his dad to show Ben he cared without putting Ben in danger. So many. Snail mail. Email. Burner phone. Facebook. Twitter. Instagram. Anything to do with social media. You don't even have to use your name with social media.
A fucking post card would have been better than silence.
Feeling his frustration building, Ben decided to screw it, and he started running at full sprint until he collapsed just outside of town in exhaustion. The fates must have been on his side because had no real idea that he was running in the right direction instead of running further into the wilderness. Now, all he needs to do is find the energy, which he managed to work off, thank you very much - to get back up and walk the rest of the way to their motel room.
He waited for five minutes before he rustled up some energy to walk the next quarter mile to the motel room. It took Ben six tries to get the key into the slot and he was welcomed by a pillow to the head as soon as he crossed the threshold.
"Where the hell were you, Winchester?" Krissy demanded angrily. "You were gone for hours. God, you're such a dick, you know that?"
Ben hung his head and let her yell at him.
"I really needed to go for a run," Ben mumbled. "Just excess energy I needed to get rid of. I didn't realize how far or how long I was running. Forgot my watch and water bottle. I tried to get back before you woke up. Guess I failed on that front, huh?" he asked with a rueful smile.
Krissy was not amused. It made Ben shrink against the door and drop the smile.
"Not a good enough reason. You should have taken your cellphone," she snapped.
"True," Ben admitted, "but I just really needed to get out of here or I was going to snap. I didn't really think about anything else."
Krissy huffed, still mad at him worrying her for no good goddamn reason. He should have taken his friggin' cellphone. Dumbass.
"I'm hungry," she announced. "Go get my something to eat." At Ben's look, she added, "I mean it, Ben. It's the least you can do to make up for scaring me. I thought whatever's hunting you finally managed to nab you."
Ben winced at that. He didn't think about that scenario. Now he feels like a heel.
"Just...go get me something to eat. I'm going to rest a little bit more."
He nodded and forced himself out to the car and drove to the diner to grab Krissy some food. It's the very least he can do, and he can't walk. He won't walk. His feet feel like they're bleeding.
Within fifteen minutes, Ben is back at the motel and he's carefully closing the door behind him so he wouldn't wake up his sleeping girlfriend. He doesn't need to wake her up necessarily. She's already mad at him, she doesn't need anymore ammo to use against him, and getting yelled at again is not on his list of things he wants to happen today.
All he wants to do is to shower and sleep for the next 12 hours straight.
Ben woke Krissy up in time for her to eat and take her painkillers. The sounds she made while eating her damned cheese fries were practically orgasmic and Ben fought down a blush and focused on his disco fries. He didn't need Krissy to make fun of him for his reaction to her moaning over cheese fries.
His good deed earned Ben a thank you snuggle. They crashed out until the next afternoon, well rested and itching to get moving but they couldn't because Krissy still needed to heal. And his restlessness came back with a vengeance.
Son of a bitch.
"I'm going for a run again," Ben informed Krissy. It earned him a glare but she didn't say anything against it. She merely held out his cellphone to take, which he accepted with a grimace. He really didn't want to take it with him. It felt like a lead weight when he placed it in his pocket. It'll slow him down, tether him back here like an anchor chain, dragging him down to soul-crushing pressure depth.
An iron band wrapped itself around his chest and his hands shook ever-so slightly. He needs to run now.
He mumbled a quick goodbye and took off running as soon as he crossed the threshold. Ben ran a full sprint until he could no longer keep up the pace without collapsing. Slowing down to a manageable jog, Ben's mind wandered so he wouldn't concentrate on the cellphone in his pocket.
The cases they've been taking lately have been a curved line heading towards South Dakota, getting close to the state but slipping away at the last second and finding another case two to three towns away but getting closer and closer with every pass. It had Ben thinking that Krissy has been testing the spell and its boundaries. She's subtly trying to find him a way home.
Skidding to a stop, Ben felt an overwhelming wave of fondness and something more towards the huntress.
His chest heaved as he tried to slow his heartbeat down to its normal rhythm. The restlessness under his skin was forgotten while he allowed his epiphany wash over him at Krissy's actions. She's so amazing. From the second he saw her, he knew she was special.
"I think I love her," Ben admitted to the ancient woods. They creaked and groaned at him in celebration, their leaves gently rustling in the warm breeze cutting through the branches. "Holy shit."
BW
Dean scrubbed his face in exhaustion. He's so tired. Every time they defeat one great evil, another pops up in its place. What's the point of saving the world when it clearly wants to end? There are only so many fires Dean can keep putting out before he hits a wall and admits defeat. Maybe the world was supposed to end back in the apocalypse days. That would explain it. Everything's gone to hell ever since Heaven showed its corrupt face and pulled him out of Hell.
The only good thing to come out of that war was Cas, and he doesn't have Cas anymore. He's the vessel for Lucifer. There's an irony there but damned if he could find it.
Sam's been trying to help but Dean can't find it in him to rally behind his little brother and continue fighting. Amara is offering rest and it's tempting to just accept and welcome oblivion. He can't though. He's a missing son to find but he can't do that until they find a way to defeat Amara and get Lucifer back into his room with Michael without Cas going along for the ride.
Step one would be to get Cas to expel his big brother. Step two would be to either get Amara to stop (not likely) or to find God and get him to deal with his sister. Neither of those two steps sound easy to accomplish. Or likely to succeed.
Amara's dead set on her plan on finding God and having it out with him, and God has been AWOL for a long ass time. Coward.
Dean sighed and curled around his pillow. He hugged it close to his chest and he pressed his face into it. He's supposed to be sleeping but Morpheus is deliberately missing him in his nightly duties. He's not sure if it's on purpose or not. Knowing his luck, he and Sammy are on his shit list for killing a relative or a faithful servant in their line of work. They really do have shit luck. He blames Bloody Mary and all those mirrors they broke in order to trap and kill her.
After another twenty minutes of trying to sleep, Dean admitted defeat and got out of bed and made his way to the kitchen where he found Sam sipping tea out of a coffee mug. Sam shrugged at him and continued reading something off his laptop.
"Do you think Ben has a hard time sleeping or is it just us unlucky schmucks with sleep problems?" Dean asked mildly. Coffee or hot cocoa? He better make hot cocoa. He'd like to sleep sometime.
"He's a Braeden," Sam answered without looking up from his computer. "He's bound to have better sleep habits than us."
Dean grunted and heated up some milk before adding the cocoa powder. Grabbing two big cups, he carefully poured the hot cocoa into the mugs before walking over to the table and placed one of the cups in front of Sam, who made a happy noise in the back of his throat, earning an amused grin from Dean. He wanted to make fun of Sam for it but he didn't want to ruin whatever calm that is encompassing the room.
"Bloody Mary," Dean muttered. "I told you it was over 700 years bad luck."
Sam quirked a grin. "Then Ben is definitely doing better than we are."
Dean wiggled his head, neither agreeing or disagreeing, and hid a smile into his cocoa. "I miss him," he admitted, earning Sam's full attention. "God, Sammy, I miss him so much. I honestly hadn't really thought of him since I had Cas take his memories away. What kind of a father does that make me? Not even dad did that do us. He was always aware of us even if he wasn't there all that much."
"With the kind of life we live, you can't really be blamed for letting Ben slide to the way side," Sam tempered. He closed his laptop so he could focus completely on his older brother. It's been hell trying to get Dean to open up. "It was just safer not to bring Ben back into our lives."
Dean grimaced. "I miss him. I've been missing him without knowing it. Once we deal with Amara, I'm getting my son back. I'm not giving him up again."
Sam didn't look very happy about that. He knows why Sam's not liking that idea but it's his son, dammit. His son is all alone out there with Lucifer and Amara quite possibly looking for him. It'd be game over if either force managed to find Ben. He'd give in in a heart beat as long as his son is not hurt. He would drop down to his knees and do whatever it takes to guarantee his son's safety, including helping both Amara and Lucifer end the world. And he'd do it without hesitation.
He's failed Ben for so long, he won't let anything happen to him.
"I think we should find him and keep him here at the bunker. He'll be safe here. Neither Lucifer nor Amara would think we'd keep him here where they could find him." Dean felt a laugh building in his throat but he swallowed it down. Wrong time to laugh. Sam might take it the long way.
His brother sighed. Oh boy. That's not good.
"I don't think that's a good idea, Dean. It'd be too dangerous to bring Ben here."
"It's too dangerous to leave Ben out there," Dean argued. "At least here we'd be able to watch over him."
"Or we could bringing him right to Amara," Sam countered. "No offense, Dean, but when it comes to God's sister, you can't really be trusted to holdout against her. I don't even think Ben could help temper her sway over you."
Stung and hurt, Dean stomped off into the library to cool down before he says or does something he'll regret. It didn't work.
How dare Sam say he'd betray Ben like that to Amara! He wouldn't. Not his son. He's innocent in all this. He'd sooner damn both of them, and it's not like they haven't been to Hell before. They could handle it.
"I didn't mean it that way, Dean," Sam apologized softly. "It's just - If we bring him here, it'll be easier for our enemies to find a way to get to us. Ben's safer with his foster parents."
Dean snorted. "Apparently not that safe. They lost him."
Sam didn't have an argument for that.
"Besides," Dean said, "he's a legacy. We need to keep the line of Men of Letters alive, Sam. Charlie," his voice broke, and it had Sam blinking back tears at the mention of their 'sister'. "Charlie would agree that we need to start tracking down other legacies. It can't end with us. It just can't. Henry, we owe him, Sam. We owe our grandfather a legacy."
Well, damn. Another argument Sam can't counter. Dean is getting scarily good at finding points he can't counter against.
"We'll bring in Claire, Jody and Alex in as well. Krissy, too. If we can find her," his brother mused with a grin. "We can start a whole new legacy. I want to leave something behind for Ben. I want him to be proud of me."
Goddammit, Sam thought. How can he argue with that? If he had a kid, he'd want to leave something behind for them too.
"You're his hero, Dean. There's nothing you do that Ben won't be proud of," Sam said softly.
"Maybe," Dean hedged. He knows he really screwed the pooch with his son. He might be like Sam and hold grudges. Lord knows Sam is still mad at their dad for some transgression that happened years and years ago. Dude does not know how to let things go. Not like Dean can talk though. Know what, the entire Winchester and Campbell clan suck at let past wrongs go. Ben might have a chance because Lisa was not one to linger on the past.
Grief slammed into his chest. God, Lisa. He could have loved her; truly loved her but his friggin' life came back to haunt him and pulled him away before he could find out. He barely got a year with his son, a year where the only thing he worried about was missing Ben's baseball games.
There is a small part of Dean that blames Sam and Cas for tearing him away from his family. He left them vulnerable, as demonstrated when Crowley kidnapped them. Dean honestly thought taking their memories away was the best thing for them. He should have kept tabs on them but he couldn't. He couldn't watch Ben from afar and watch him grow up or watch Lisa fall in love with someone else. He didn't want to watch them replace him as easily as it is to change a light bulb. He didn't want to hear Ben call someone else dad. That's his title.
Or maybe he's a coward. He's already lost Sam so many times, Dean doesn't think he'd ever handle losing his son. He would happily sell his soul again to ensure Ben would live to a ripe old age without monsters or demons or angels making his life hell.
"Come on, Cas, I need you," Dean prayed. "Just come back to me."
BW
Lucifer felt his left eye twitch at Dean's prayer. By his Father, he'd love to record the eldest Winchester's prayers and play them in Heaven and Hell. The angels and demons need a laugh. They don't get enough reason to do so, and hearing the Righteous Man's pleading to his little brother, his supplication for his return, would make even the most stoic angels and demons let out a chuckle.
He felt little Cassie jerk at the prayer, a brief flare of awareness, but he stamped the Seraph back down. The little shit fought back, zapping him with his grace before the archangel could send him back to his room and watch TV on the little rabbit ear set he has.
"Ow!" Lucifer hissed and sucked on his finger where little brother's grace zapped him. "You are so going to regret that later."
He got the grace equivalent of the middle finger in response. Oh ho, Dean Winchester taught him well.
A reluctant grin stole its way to across Lucifer's lips. He likes his little brother's fiestiness. It's been so long since he had any real fun with his brothers and sisters, and little Castiel turned out to be a surprising bit of entertainment. He always thought his little brother was weird. He has proof of it, too. What proof? The damned rabbit ear TV set. Of all the TVs to watch cable on, he chooses one of the oldest sets there is.
Little Cassie is an odd duck. The seraph reminds him of another little brother but Lucifer quickly shoved that thought down. No. He won't be reminded of the youngest archangel.
"Go back to your damn room," Lucifer ordered, earning another middle finger. He summoned a charge from his own grace and flung it at the seraph. The little shit managed to deflect it enough where it wouldn't seriously hurt him but he still got knocked unconscious. Lucifer immediately felt less restricted. He didn't realize just how much time he spent keeping his little brother distracted and contained. Maybe he should permanently keep the seraph unconscious.
He can't though. The annoying angel knows Dean's greatest weakness and he'll be damned again if he lets Auntie Amara get to it first. Nope. He'll be the one to control the so-called Righteous Man and resident Pain-in-the-Ass, not his psychotic aunt.
Plus, he knows Sam'll do anything to keep Dean safe, including protecting whatever it is that'll make Dean cave like a wet tissue.
Claiming his rightful vessel would be the cherry on top. He never liked the fact that Frick and Frack managed to beat him and Michael. Two meat suits stopped a prophecy that was foretold eons ago. What were the odds?
He suspects his Father's hand. It's the only possible explanation.
Of course Dad finally shows his mug when the Winchesters decide to thumb their noses at prophecy. Free will and all that jazz. A bunch of bull in his opinion.
Dad's favored creations. So flawed. So egocentric. Why were they deemed better than angels, he'll never know.
Maybe Dad'll appear when he threatens his favorite humans. That'll get his attention. A grin blossomed when a thought popped into his head, of his dear aunt thinking along the same lines as him, and that's not an all too pleasant realization but it's still a funny thought. His aunt would hate it and that's what makes it so freaking hilarious.
Still grinning, Lucifer summoned a demon and had it grab a couple of its brethren to go raiding his crypts filled with Heaven's weapons. He's going to need it if he wants to kill Amara. The world is going to end on his terms instead of his aunt's.
"Sleep tight, Little Cassie, for tomorrow we're going to war and then we're going to find Dean's weakness."
BW
Claire felt her right eye twitch. This frat pledge doesn't seem to understand the word no, and if he doesn't stop leaning into her personal space, she will not be held responsible for her actions.
The dude bro leaned in once again, way past her personal bubble, and Claire decided enough was enough and she swung a right hook into the dumbass's face, sending him crashing to the ground, unfortunately still conscious. Damn. She must not have put enough power behind the punch. Now she's got to put up with a whiny baby about being hit by a girl he was trying to - unsuccessfully - flirt with.
His other dude bros came out of the woodwork, shooting her dirty looks as they clucked around the fallen dumbass. A bunch of mother hens.
"Maybe next time, dumbass here, will listen to a woman when she says 'no', or I could teach him a lesson now. At least that way he won't need another later on," Claire told them with a smirk. A flicker of cold triumph snaked its way through her veins when she saw their apprehensive looks.
It was easy to tell they didn't doubt her ability to do so. Claire loved her reputation at school. No one messed with her unless they want her foot up their ass and black eyes generously given out for free to any who would like to argue against her brand of justice.
Normally she would have ignored them but Claire has been itching for a fight for a while now. The frustration with coming up empty on Ben's whereabouts is disheartening, and it's starting to wear on all of them. Alex has been bitchier than normal and it's taking everything in Claire not to engage, which is why she's been looking for a fight. It's the best way to work off repressed aggression, at least in her books. Maybe not Jody's. Or anyone sane really, but it works for her.
The only thing that gave a hint of Ben's whereabouts was the Ouji board. Claire kept her distance from that thing, she didn't trust it and she's watched enough horror movies to know better. Alex on the other hand, she had no problem contacting spirits.
One replied, it called itself Jo, and it told them Ben was safe.
That was it. Ben's safe. It should have been enough but it wasn't. Claire wanted to know where he was because he needed to be brought back home to them. Not out there doing god knows what.
The spirit refused to respond to anymore of their questions but it did tell them to quit messing with a spirit board. That brought them up short. It even had Jody staring at the board in slight indignation, the sight had Claire and Alex biting their lips to keep from smiling. Of course Claire was ten feet away from the board but she still saw Jody's reaction.
Ever since that single contact, Jody's been almost obsessed with finding out who Jo was. She said the name sounded familiar but she wasn't sure yet. She had been pouring over missing or dead people and she found countless names. Claire didn't know how Jody was narrowing the list down or how she knew for a fact that that Jo wasn't the Jo she was looking for. What Claire had noticed is that the women she kept as possible Jos were all blondes, throwing away anyone with different colored hair.
She hopes Jody finds out who Jo is. Claire has a few questions for the spirit.