Disclaimer: I don't own SPN.
I've recently started on Wattpad (under the name BuhByeSocialLife) and I'm waiting on an invite from AO3, so this is no longer my only site. Also, I've tried my hand at the artistic side of things and I've managed to produce two designs on Redbubble that you can check out if you want :D ( people / latersociallife)
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Thanks to LaughingLadybug and EmilyAnnMcGarrett-Winchester for their reviews! You guys are just the best!
"I'm going on a food run," John announced the next day. Henry, from where he was engaged in the TV with Sam and Dean, simply nodded. He'd seen a colour TV before but these graphics were so much better! And these TV shows were a huge improvement on those from the fifties!
"What is this?" he frowned. What was the point behind this dimwitted red cat and his psychotic and possibly possessed chihuahua friend?
"Dude, this is Ren and Stimpy!" Dean said. "Don't tell me you've never seen them!"
"Dean, this show only came out last year," Sam said. Dean just shrugged and returned to staring at the TV. "Did you have any cartoons that you liked, Uncle Henry?"
Henry smiled nostalgically as memories of sitting in front of the old black and white TVs as a kid flooded him.
"I was partial to Looney Tunes," he said. "That was always my favourite cartoon."
"Looney Tunes? No way! I love that show!" Sam's eyes were shining. "Who's your favourite character? I love Yosemite Sam because we've got the same name and he's really funny!"
Henry smiled again, ecstatic to have finally found something that he could connect with his grandkids over.
"Bugs Bunny was always my favourite character," he said.
"Dude, he's so overrated!" Dean scoffed. "Everyone loves that stupid wabbit! Marvin the Martian is awesome and so's Wile E. Coyote and Road Runner!"
"Ah, Coyote and Road Runner," Henry chuckled. "Coyote's 'ingenious' traps and plans never cease to amuse me, even now. Has he ever caught Road Runner?"
Dean grinned.
"Well, there was that one time," he said. Henry was immediately intrigued. Coyote finally managed to catch Road Runner? That was unthinkable! "They were running through this pipe that kept getting smaller and when they got out the other side, they were tiny. So they ran back through and Road Runner got bigger but not Coyote. So Coyote grabbed his leg 'cause Road Runner couldn't see him."
"And then he tried to eat Road Runner but Road Runner was too big and he got really scared!" Sam chimed in, bouncing. "So he held up these two signs: 'Okay, wise guys, you always wanted me to catch him' and 'Now what do I do?'"
Henry was laughing by the end of it. It was surreal that Road Runner had finally been caught but he hadn't really been caught. Not really. From the sounds of it, he could have just given Coyote the flick and bolted.
"I do wish I'd seen that," he said, wiping a tear from his eye. A warm feeling spread through him at the moment he was sharing with his grandsons, sitting and laughing about cartoons that they all loved. It felt like he was back in 1958 and laughing with John over Bugs Bunny and Elmer Fudd and he'd say, 'Be vewy, vewy quiet! I'm hunting wabbits!' and John would laugh so hard that tears would stream down his face. It did hurt to realise that he was in 1992 and John was no longer that cheerful child but he had Sam and Dean now and he wouldn't fail them like he failed John.
"I'm thirsty," Dean complained. "Can you go get me a drink, Henry?"
"Your father told me not to leave you two alone," Henry frowned.
"Dude, it's just the vending machine," Dean said. He rummaged around in his pocket and pulled out a handful of change, which he gave to Henry. "Grab me a Coke, would you?"
Henry still didn't think that this was such a good idea but if it was still within the motel and not too far then it couldn't hurt, right?
"I'll be right back," he said. "Don't go anywhere."
Henry left the room, shutting the door behind him, and then went to the motel lobby to get Dean his drink. He frowned at the unfamiliar change in his hand and then back at the machine. How was he supposed to do this?
"Need help?" a bored voice drawled. Henry turned to see a greasy-looking man with stringy blond hair – the receptionist – standing behind him.
"Yes, if you wouldn't mind," Henry said gratefully. "My nephew wants a Coke and I am unfamiliar with this strange currency."
"A foreigner, eh?" the man smirked. Henry supposed that that was technically true. "Here, lemme do that."
The man slotted the appropriate coins into the machine and pressed a button to send the Coke falling into the bottom.
"Thank you, kind sir," Henry said, stooping to pick up the can. He swept out of the lobby and back to the motel room but paused in the doorway. Something didn't seem right.
"Sam? Dean?" he said. Nobody responded. His gut now twisting, Henry closed the door behind him and advanced into the room, stiff and ready to attack at a moment's notice. "Boys? Where are you?"
He noticed that the window was open, which made him frown. That had been closed when he'd left, hadn't it? Henry crossed over to the window and his stomach dropped right out of him. The salt line was broken!
"No!" he gasped. He whirled around. "Sam! Dean! Answer me!"
He still got no response. A light breeze wafted in through the window, rustling a piece of paper on the sofa. Henry frowned. That paper hadn't been there before, had it? He slowly approached it and picked it up before unfolding it and reading it. The words printed in scratchy, childish handwriting made him drop Dean's Coke.
Henry,
Nice to see you again, old friend! I've been trying to meet up with you for ages – you know, have a little '1958 Massacre Buddies' reunion – but for some reason, you just don't seem to want to see me. So I decided that enough is enough.
Let's cut the crap, Henry. You have something that I want and I have something that you want. There's an abandoned warehouse a little out of town. Meet me there and I'll swap the brats for you and the key. Bring Johnny-boy or not, it's your call, but if I don't get to see your pretty face and that shiny key, the kids are history.
Don't keep me waiting.
The note wasn't signed but there was no way Henry couldn't know who it was.
"Abaddon!" he whispered. "No!" He scrunched the note up in his fist, let it drop onto the table and then turned around and kicked the sofa. What was he supposed to tell John? His son had trusted him and he'd let him down!
Henry dropped onto the sofa, holding his head in his hands. He knew that Abaddon and his grandsons would be long gone. All he could do now was to wait for the minutes to tick by and await John's return, where he would most likely be treated to a lecture that he so richly deserved. He almost wished that John would come back now. Better to get it over with sooner rather than later.
As though the heavens were granting his wish, the doorknob rattled and John pushed his way into the room with several bags of food.
"Henry!" he said with a smile that just made Henry feel even worse. "Where are the boys?"
Henry wordlessly held out the crinkled note. John took it, his smile fading, and with each line, his face grew angrier and angrier.
"What the hell?" he exploded. "How the hell did that bitch get in?"
Henry pointed at the broken salt line at the window.
"I went to get Dean a drink," he said miserably. "I was only gone for two minutes –"
"I told you not to leave them alone!" John bellowed. "Two minutes was long enough for that bitch to get in here and kidnap my boys! How could you be so stupid, Henry? You knew she was after us!"
"I'm sorry, John!" Henry said. "I understand that I've lost your trust but we'll get Sam and Dean back, even if I die trying!"
"Damn right we will," John growled. "You got a plan, wise guy?"
Henry frowned.
"I think I do," he said. He looked up at John. "I can slow Abaddon down for you. Can you do the rest?"
-ATGB-
"I'm going on a food run," John announced. They were running low on food, Sam and Dean were always little brats when they were hungry and John's new fake credit card was just itching to be used. Henry, who was watching Ren and Stimpy with Sam and Dean, just nodded.
As he started the Impala up, John reflected on the past few days. If someone had told him a few days ago that his long-gone father would drop in on him and he wouldn't hate him and would actually like him again, John would have shot them with rock salt. But now, even though he didn't see Henry as a father, he was genuinely fond of the man and was actually ecstatic that he would get to know his father all over again, even if it hadn't been that long to Henry.
He was also surprised to find that he trusted Henry with his boys. Normally it took at least a few weeks before he would even trust someone to stay in the same room as Sam and Dean while he went away for even a minute but Henry…Henry was different. Maybe it was because he hadn't changed since that night, and John had trusted his father implicitly before his disappearance. Maybe his old instincts were shining through. Whatever the reason, John was confident that he could trust his father to watch over Sam and Dean while he made a food run to fill their stomachs.
Once at the supermarket John easily fell into the mindless routine of shopping, throwing random items into his cart and then taking them up to the counter to pay once he was done. The whole process took about twenty minutes and then he had to heave his bags out to the Impala, dump them in the back and drive the five minute journey back to the motel. He lugged the bags out of the car and up to their motel room.
"Henry!" he said with a smile as he entered the room and dumped the bags of food. Henry's miserable expression, along with the deafening silence in the room, instantly put him on guard. "Where are the boys?"
In response, Henry held out a small note. John took it and his blood ran cold when he read the words that had been scrawled in Dean's untidy handwriting. How the hell had the bitch gotten in? And why was the note written in Dean's writing? John could think of two reasons: either he was threatened to or he hadn't been himself while writing it. Neither option appealed to him.
"What the hell?" John yelled angrily, crushing the note in his rage. "How the hell did that bitch get in?"
Henry pointed at the window. John was livid when he saw that the salt line there had been broken somehow. Maybe one of his sons had accidentally broken it and that was all that Abaddon would have needed to get in.
"I went to get Dean a drink," Henry said glumly. "I was only gone for two minutes –"
He'd left the boys alone? John had trusted him!
"I told you not to leave them alone!" John raged. "Two minutes was long enough for that bitch to get in here and kidnap my boys! How could you be so stupid, Henry? You knew she was after us!"
Of all the stupid things to do! Rationally, John knew that Henry being with them wouldn't have made a difference – Abaddon would have probably killed him or kidnapped him too. But he was furious and he had to take it out on someone!
"I'm sorry, John!" Henry said fervently. "I understand that I've lost your trust –" Damn right he had! "– but we'll get Sam and Dean back, even if I die trying!"
Yeah, that wasn't happening. No matter how pissed John was at Henry, the guy was not dying!
"Damn right we will," John spat. "You got a plan, wise guy?" Henry got them into this mess, he could get them out!
"I think I do," Henry said slowly. "I can slow Abaddon down for you. Can you do the rest?"
John's fingers closed around his gun.
"You bet," he declared. "How are we doing this?"
"You can't kill her," Henry said thoughtfully. "But you can incapacitate her so badly that she will not be able to function."
"Cutting her into tiny bits it is, then," John decided. "Come on. Let's roll. And Henry?" Henry looked at him. "When we get my sons back, I'm going to kill you."
Henry grimaced but, to his credit, didn't protest. John spared the note in his fist one last glance before shredding it into tiny pieces. Then, making sure that the box was in his pocket, he followed Henry out of the room.
Abaddon didn't know what was coming for her.