Chapter 10
Dean pushed the screen door open and stepped out onto the front porch as Donna's and Jody's trucks rumbled down the drive. Sam came out behind him, and together they descended the steps as the ladies parked and started hopping out of the vehicles. Claire and Donna headed around to the back of her truck, and a moment later were dragging out a figure with hands cuffed and a hood over his head. Dean hoped the bastard was enjoying the same treatment his people had given the Winchesters.
"Where do you want him?" Donna asked.
Dean and Sam exchanged a look.
"Cellar's good," Dean said, cocking his head toward the side of the house where an outer door led down to a basement.
Donna quirked her lips, and then she and Claire hauled their prisoner toward the house.
Dean turned to Charlie as she got out of Jody's truck and headed straight to giving him a hug. Maybe he squeezed a little tightly in that embrace.
"Thanks for coming to help," he said roughly, trying not to get too choked up with emotion.
Charlie leaned back and gave him a knowing look. "Wild horses."
He couldn't help but smile back.
She stepped aside to hug Sam next, though he practically swallowed her whole.
Jody came to stand next to Dean. "You ready for this?"
He nodded. Hell yes he was. No more sitting on the sidelines.
The rest of them started after Donna and Claire, entering the cellar just as those two finished tying their captive's wrists to the armrests of a rickety chair. His ankles were already secured to the legs. Once done, Donna yanked the hood off and stepped back.
Mick gave himself a sharp shake and squinted as his eyes adjusted to the light, dim though it was. He struggled against his bonds and craned his neck around, but stilled when his gaze landed on Dean and Sam. He looked flabbergasted at first, and then uncertain.
"What is it you hope to accomplish here?" he asked, rattling the handcuffs and trying to sound unfazed, but Dean saw the wobble in his Adam's apple.
Dean crossed his arms. "Well, Sam and I answered a bunch of your questions," he said darkly. "Now it's time for some reciprocation."
Mick flitted his gaze around at the others. "This will not go unnoticed," he warned. "The British Men of Letters have a code. If you hurt one of us, satisfaction must be had."
"Yeah," Jody spoke up. "Interesting thing about that—same goes for family."
Mick faltered, swallowing hard again as he attempted to draw his shoulders back. "I won't tell you anything."
"How many numbers does your operation have?" Sam asked.
Mick lifted his chin and stared stubbornly ahead.
"Didn't look like too many when we busted out of there," Dean commented. "I mean, we practically waltzed out."
"Our teams were out on a mission," Mick retorted. "We've gotten reinforcements since then."
Dean exchanged an amused look with his brother.
"It still can't be that many," Sam went on nonchalantly. "If you're having to recruit American hunters to do your leg work."
"We have plenty of operatives," Mick said, sounding miffed. "But one of our goals is to work with the Americans to make this country safe."
Sam smirked and shook his head. "You're really not good at this."
Mick's face reddened and he clamped his mouth shut as he looked away.
Dean came to stand in front of him. "Who are you to tell us how to do our job?"
Mick rolled his eyes. "You lads endanger the world every other week."
"And where have the British Men of Letters been in trying to make it better?"
"We have made it better. There hasn't been a monster killing in London since—"
"Yeah," Dean interrupted. "That's great for London. What about the rest of the world? How about the Styne family? You heard of them, right? The chaos and destruction they caused? But you never did anything about it. Because they stayed away from your little corner of the world, so screw the rest of us?"
Mick's expression faltered and he glanced down.
"You know who did take out the Stynes?" Dean went on. "Ryn. And Sam and Charlie. And maybe the Darkness got unleashed as a result, but you know what? We took care of that, too. So in the end, two great evils were wiped off the face of the earth."
"We've made mistakes," Sam put in. "But we've always tried to fix it. And sometimes that made things worse, but we always took responsibility and kept fighting. Where were you?"
"Our people were trying to research a way to banish the Darkness when it was released—"
"Oh, research. Yeah, that's awesome. Did you actually come out to America, though? Or did you stay safe across the ocean and just wait to see if the Darkness would cross it?" Dean accused.
"We didn't have anything useful to contribute—"
Sam let out a derisive snort. "Right. Well, we did. So don't you dare tell us my brother and I have only hurt people. We've saved more lives than the British Men of Letters ever have."
Donna stepped forward. "Let me bottom line it for you, bucko. We've heard the sales pitch, and we ain't interested. So you can take your offer and hop on back to London. Or we will make you."
Mick scoffed as he gazed around at their group. "No offense, but you are outnumbered."
"Numbers do not win a battle," Charlie spoke up airily.
"Quick history lesson," Claire added. "The American Revolution. We kicked your asses."
Mick let out an exasperated sound and tugged against the cuffs. "Why can't you see that we're trying to help? Trying to make the world a safer place, free of all monsters."
"The problem is not every being that isn't human is a monster," Sam argued.
"Nothing can deny its nature forever."
"There are werewolves and vampires who only eat animals," Dean countered, voice ramping up. "The Alpha phoenix was saved by God himself and blessed with divine fire. And her kid, who's also half angel, is the kindest, most innocent person you will ever meet. Who, also coincidentally, is God's granddaughter. And you do not want to piss the Big Guy off enough for him to come down here."
Okay, that was technically an empty threat. Chuck didn't get involved until things were on the verge of annihilation, and Dean wasn't planning on letting it get that far. Besides, with Gabriel missing, who knew if Chuck would even get wind that they were in trouble.
Mick just gazed at him like he'd drunk the Kool-Aid. He then shifted his attention to the others beseechingly. "If you turn over the Alpha and the hybrid, perhaps we can argue for clemency. Show us that you're willing to work with us—"
Dean grabbed Mick by the front of his shirt, jostling him so hard the chair he was chained to almost tipped over.
Mick's eyes widened with fear, but he managed to swallow and ask calmly, "Is this where you threaten me with torture?"
Dean's blood was throbbing with the urge to, long forgotten tactics and skill sets awakening in the face of his family being in danger. He wanted to; he really wanted to. And it wasn't like he hadn't gone down this road before. Many times.
But then Dean thought of his niece, and remembered what he was fighting for. Remembered that he wasn't that person anymore.
So as much as he wanted to pay back all the atrocities that'd been committed against him, his brother, and his family, Dean forced himself to take a breath and let it out.
"No," he said, releasing Mick and taking a step back. "We're not like you."
With that, he nodded to the others to follow him upstairs, leaving Mick to sit alone in the dingy basement as the sun set.
Dean shut the door behind them and turned to face everyone. "It's time we take the fight to the Brits."
"You remember where their base is?" Jody asked.
Sam nodded. "Yeah, I think we can retrace our escape. But we'll need more to go on if we're gonna do a full on assault."
"I'm in," Charlie immediately said.
Claire's mouth curved upward. "Me too."
Dean felt a swell of pride at their support. "Then let's make plans."
Amy could hear the adults talking long after dinner, though she hadn't been invited to join the discussion. And, strangely enough, she didn't feel the urge to.
She came down once to get some tea for her mom, and the conversation continued around her as though she wasn't even there. Even her dad was involved, though he was quiet throughout most of it, taking things in and giving input only when he had something to contribute.
Amy returned upstairs and helped her mom take a few sips of the tea before exhaustion pulled Ryn into sleep again. Amy had never seen her mother like this, and it scared her.
It made her angry.
She cocked her head toward the stairs, the low rumble of voices indicating everyone was still deep in discussion. Without really thinking about it, she stood up and carefully made her way downstairs again, keeping to the wall and skirting around the kitchen toward the back door. No one noticed. She eased the porch door open with only a slight creak and slipped outside.
The array of constellations adorning the night sky brought her no joy like they usually did. Tonight, they were cold and aloof, and for the first time, Amy felt small and insignificant under their distant gazes. The world had never seemed so harsh before, not even when she first learned there was evil out there, for her family had always taught her that there was strength in love and unity, and that they could always face whatever came their way.
This was the first time she doubted that.
Amy moved around the side of the house toward the outer door to the cellar. It was locked with a simple latch and chain that she easily undid. Being careful and quiet, she lifted one side of the door and descended the short steps into the darkened interior.
Her eyes didn't need much light to see by, and her vision quickly adjusted to take in the man chained to a chair. He wore a casual suit and had a scruffy appearance that in a movie some might call ruggedly handsome.
It took him a little longer to make her out as he squinted in the ambient light filtering down through the open door. For a long moment, Amy just stared at him, as though she could pierce the fabric of flesh and see down to the soul in order to understand. But she had never figured out how her dad did that, and couldn't seem to do it herself.
He started shifting in apparent discomfort. "What?" he blurted.
"Why do you hate me so much?"
She hadn't meant to ask that. Or maybe she had. She hadn't really had a plan when she'd decided to come down here and face one of the monsters that had been dogging her nightmares.
He quirked a confused brow at her. "I don't know what you mean."
"I've never done anything to you or anyone you know," Amy went on. "And as far as I know, neither have my parents. So why do you hate me?"
His eyes widened. "You're the hybrid."
Something churned in Amy's stomach at the way he said that. Maybe technically she was one, a mix of two lineages. A one of a kind. And maybe neither of those halves was human, but that didn't make her less than them.
"Answer my question," she demanded.
He blinked in surprise. "It's not about hate," he finally answered. "You're dangerous and it's my job to protect humans."
Amy frowned. "From me."
"Yes."
She was silent for a moment, then said quietly, "I punched a boy once. He was bullying another human boy and I told him to stop."
He gave her an odd look, and Amy wasn't sure what her point was supposed to be.
"I was raised to stand up for people, to help them," she continued. "For as long as I can remember, I wanted to be a hunter, to protect people. And then my family taught me that not all monsters are evil. If they're not hurting anyone, they should be left alone." She paused. "But you don't believe that, do you? You think anything not human is evil. But if humans can be good or bad, why can't supernatural beings be the same?"
He didn't say anything to that.
Amy took a step closer. "Did the phoenix you held captive for years actually hurt anyone before you imprisoned him? And even if he did, was experimenting on him until he became a walking bomb really in the name of protecting humans?"
The man opened his mouth, but Amy barreled on.
"Do you know what became of him?" she pressed. "My mother had to kill him. Her own grandson. Because he'd gone insane from what you did to him. Elijah's one goal after escaping you was to find the Colt, the one weapon that could kill him permanently and end his suffering. He didn't want to hurt anyone else. All those people who died in the fires he set was because you turned him into that."
She cut off to take a labored breath, her emotions starting to roil inside her.
The man didn't say anything to that, and instead averted his gaze.
Amy's shoulders heaved, and she slowly raised one hand. "I want to hate you for what you did to my mother." Blue fire wreathed in grace burst into her palm. "I want to make you hurt like you hurt my family."
The man's eyes were alight in the crackling azure aura, his expression blanched with fear. For a split moment, Amy enjoyed seeing that look on his face. For a brief second, she wanted to prove just how dangerous she could be.
But another part of her, a part that was bigger and resonant with the voices of those she loved, stayed her hand.
Amy extinguished the fireball, plunging them into darkness once more.
"But that's not how my parents raised me," she said.
She turned on her heel and swept out of the basement.
The night air felt cool against her heated skin, and she took a ragged breath to try to calm the fire in her blood. She didn't know why she'd gone down there. It hadn't accomplished anything, and she might have just given the British Men of Letters reason to fear her more.
Because that was what she finally saw, deep down behind the cold facade. It wasn't hate driving these people; it was fear.
She eased the door down and latched it shut. A shadow shifted against the side of the house, making her nearly jump out of her skin.
"Hey, buttercup," Donna said kindly.
Amy shot a nervous glance around to make sure no one else was there, then between Donna and the cellar door. "How long have you been out here?" she asked warily.
Donna gave her a compassionate smile and raised a hand, signaling she should come closer.
Amy approached cautiously, and Donna draped an arm over her shoulder. The older woman's thick brown jacket felt warm in the crisp night air.
"I saw you sneaking out," she said. "Thought I'd come check on ya."
Amy's cheeks flushed hot. "I wouldn't have hurt him," she rushed to say.
"Oh, I know that. And if he's got an ounce of brain cells, he would see that, too." Donna huffed, but quickly replaced it with another smile. "So, are you okay?"
Amy bit her lip. "I don't know," she confessed. "I wanted to confront him, look him in the eye…but it didn't make me feel better."
Donna nodded sympathetically as they slowly meandered back around the side of the house. "Yeah. But you know, sometimes facing the giants in your life isn't about feeling better. It's just something you have to do."
"Then what's the point?"
"Finding out they're not actually giants," Donna replied. "Or that you're bigger than you thought you were."
Amy contemplated that for a moment. The man in there had seemed…rather small. But the people he worked for with their weapons and technology…they were still a threat that seemed insurmountable.
Donna drew to a stop a few feet from the back porch and turned to face her. "Promise me one thing, kiddo." She reached up to take Amy by the shoulders. "There's a lot of bad in this world. A lot of cruelty. And as much as I want to tell you this is the only time you'll have to face it, that wouldn't be true. There will always be another face of evil. Sometimes evil-evil. Sometimes human. But no matter what happens, don't lose your capacity for kindness. Because it's not until you let them take that away from you that they truly win." Donna gave her arms a warm squeeze and smiled. "And you are so full of goodness."
Amy ducked her gaze, but let Donna's words sink in. She knew they were true. It was how her family had raised her, in a home surrounded by love and acceptance and laughter, no matter how dark the pasts of her parents and uncles may have been.
She lifted her head and nodded. "I promise."
Donna's smile widened, and she pulled Amy into a full hug. Amy let herself melt into the loving embrace.
With friends and relatives like all of them, how could she ever lose herself?
A/N: Only two more chapters!