Chapter Four: Sleight of Hand
"Be a product of your environment, not a victim."
September 20, 1991: Bobby's Point of View
Pastor Jim Murphy was a wise man; we had our run-ins in the past. We met when my Karen died, after being possessed. I had killed her because I hadn't known that demons existed back then. There were a lot of things I didn't know back then. Maybe that's why Jimmy passed John Winchester on to me. I had heard of him before, not by name. Hunters talked and word on the street was some new kid was hunting with a mess of kids in tow, trained by Daniel Elkins, former Marine.
The man lived up to everything I heard and more. He was supposed to have been here by four. By the time I heard a car on my lot, the sun had long since set and it was pouring rain. I met him outside. I he had been alone; my reaction may have been different. Instead my eyes went right past the six-foot marine and straight to his kids. Two year old Hailey was perched on Dean's hip, her arms around his neck, chattering a mile a minute. Five-year-old Aiden was leaning against Dean, while Sam was closer to John, eyeing me right back.
What stood out most to me in those few minutes we were sizing one another up, was that Dean, all of twelve, looked far older. He seemed surer of himself, yet so lost. A mother brutally murdered and to top that of his entire life had been upended. His home was no longer four walls, but four wheels and every motel that the continental United States had to offer.
"John Winchester I presume?" I finally greeted the man.
"Singer?" He retorted.
"Yep," I responded.
"Yeah," John nodded.
"What are you waiting for?" I barked out. "Get those kids outta the damp."
All four heads swiveled from me to their father when he gave a nod they approached cautiously. Or at least the boy's did. Hailey struggled in Dean's grip, a whine in her throat.
"Dee, down!" The young girl ordered. "I wanna walk!"
"Volume, Hails," Dean scolded.
"Sorry," Hailey mumbled, then brightened when she looked at me. "Hi. I'm Hailey."
"Don't talk to strangers," Sam stated.
"He's not a stranger," Hailey rolled her eyes. "Daddy knows his name."
John chuckled softly as Sam glared and Hailey grinned. Dean set Hailey on her feet the second they were in the house. Before most people could blink, she was off like a light, attempting to run into the living room, where stacks of books taller the young girl were. Luckily Dean seemed to know exactly what she was going to do, snagging her around the waist, and setting her back on her feet in front of him.
"No," Dean whispered.
Hailey folded her arms across her chest, her lower lip pouting out. I felt for the kid, god only knew how long she had been trapped in that car. I approached her slowly, crouching down to her level. Before I could say a word, Dean pulled her behind him, shielding her from me. I looked up to meet Dean's heated glare. Clearly, he was protective of his brothers and sister, and didn't like me getting too close.
"Dean," John rebuked.
I straightened from my crouch, clearing my throat as I chose to look at John, "You all hungry?"
"We don't want to be any trouble," John shrugged.
"Nonsense," I rolled my eyes. "I was going to make dinner anyway. Mac and Cheese work?"
"Yes," Hailey chirped, still behind Dean.
John smiled fondly at his youngest before echoing her statement, "Mac and Cheese would be just fine. Thank you."
A few days later, John would leave the kids at my house. I hadn't really ever had experience with kids. Didn't even want my own, broke Karen's heart when I broke the news. But, if there was even a chance I could become my abusive fuck of a father, I wouldn't take it. No kid deserved that. And, though, it was obvious John Winchester loved his children, he was too focused on his cause. More or less leaving the children to themselves. The only quality time they really had with their old man was when he was teaching them the skills necessary to survive in this life.
It had taken about a week for me to grasp the complexities that were the Winchester siblings. They were a quiet bunch, well, quiet wasn't really the right word because when he wasn't in the room they were laughing and talking, stopping only when they caught sight of me. John had obviously taught them all to respect their elders. They always cleaned up after themselves. I guess if I had to learn how to deal with children, then the Winchester's were the easiest to learn from. Dean seemed the most wary of me, and if he didn't trust me, then his siblings trusted his judgment.
Dean Winchester was a difficult nut to crack, not that I blamed the boy. Only two years before his mother had been brutally murdered, his life changed forever. A kid doesn't forget something like that. But, Dean was a brave kid, he looked out for his siblings, and picked up his father's slack with nary a protest. He became an adult the second his mother had died, yet you could still see glimpses of the kid he use to be. Before the Winchester family was touched by darkness.
Sam was a lot like his brother, he was old enough to just remember his mother. Though her death and the fire were probably two of the more prominent memories. He might've been only six but it was easy to tell that he use to be a lot more carefree. John spoke of times where neither Sam nor Dean spoke a word. It seemed only now that they were speaking without prompting. Sammy was a smart kid, they all were, but unlike Dean or Aiden, Sam was willing to work at it, reading every book he could get his hands on.
The kids were inseparable at my house for the first few visits. Hailey was often glued to Dean's side, while Aiden and Sam often played board games or watched cartoons together. Hailey was not a shy baby, from the second I met her she made it very clear that she liked me, often chattering her way through dinner to anyone who would listen. The funniest thing was that even at two years old, Hailey had her brothers and father wrapped around her little finger. The worst part about that fact was that the girl was very aware of the power she held.
June 17, 2000
My father's quest to murder the Demon, who had killed my mom made sense in theory. In application, though, I found myself wondering what we were doing. Dad trained us, prepared us to fend for ourselves, made us realize that it was a kill or be killed world and there were things out in the world that were a lot scarier than people. Still, I felt removed from my family and their vengeance. It was something I had never voiced to them, and never would.
Did I miss my mother? Yes, I did, in a way one misses something they never had. My earliest memory was of my father and three brothers, no mom, no fire. It was just them. They were the only family I knew and I didn't like how they were risking their lives. Murdering the thing that took mom away, wouldn't bring her back.
It didn't matter what happened, I would never know my mother. I'd never have a normal life. It might have been weird to some, but to me, learning Latin, hand-to-hand combat, and other things like that was normal. Living from motel room to motel room was typical. It wasn't something that upset me, it just was my life.
By the time we got to Sioux Falls everyone was in an awful mood. We hadn't had a proper stop in over forty eight hours. Every small motel sleep break was only for a few hours and then it was back into the cars for more driving. So, when the impala and the truck pulled in front of Bobby Singer's house around three in the morning we were all tired, cranky, hungry, and filthy.
Whatever reason why we had driven all the way here with barely any stops must've been big. Dad wouldn't have rushed us across the country if it weren't. He was normally pretty good with allowing decent motel stops, knowing that the without them my brothers and I were more prone to fighting, which got on Dad's nerves and just made things all the more difficult. We didn't bother to really announce our presence between both cars massive engines roaring up the path to the house and Rumsfeld's barking, Bobby was already on the porch, shotgun in hand, just in case.
"Winchester, are you out of your goddamn mind?" Bobby barked. "It's the middle of the night."
"Got here as fast as we could," Dad replied.
"Jesus, Winchester, you stop at all?" Bobby demanded eyeing us over critically.
I was a barely awake, I must have fallen asleep only an hour or two before and I wasn't ready to wake up. Of course, the choice wasn't mine as the impala's back door opened and someone reached in easily maneuvering me into their arms, my feet wrapping around their waist and my arms around their neck, burrowing my face into their neck. Dean. Of course it was Dean who had fished me out of the backseat, already carrying my duffel bag and his in the hand that wasn't holding on to me.
"What are you waiting for, boy?" Bobby demanded. "Get your sister in the house."
I felt Dean jostle me as he stepped by Bobby into the house. His footsteps were quiet as he walked up the stairs and going into the second guest bedroom that my brothers and I shared. He placed me gently on the bed, pulling the covers around me before presumably going back downstairs to help unload the cars.
The sun streamed into the open window, bright and early the next morning, landing directly in my eyes. With a groan I turned over, planting my feet on the floor before stumbling from the room. I could smell and hear the coffee maker percolating as I made my way into the kitchen. Bobby was already there, reading the paper with a huge breakfast spread already on the table.
"Morning Hails," Bobby greeted. "Sleep well."
"Yes, thank you," I replied.
I walked past him in order to fill up a cup of coffee. I put in two sugars and a splash of milk before bringing it back to the table. I was just about to take a sip when Dean plopped down next to me, snagging the mug out of my hand and taking a sip.
At my scowl he said, "You know Dad's rule."
"I'm eleven," I growled.
"Yeah, you're too young to need caffeine," Dean scoffed. "Have some orange juice."
"Aw, come on, Dean," I whined.
"No," Dean retorted. "Eat your breakfast."
I rolled my eyes as I snagged a few pieces of toast and a couple slices of bacon. I growled when Dean looked at what was one my plate and added a scoop of scrambled eggs.
"You'll need the energy," Dean said. "Dad has new drills he wants you to learn."
"Like what?" I said, suspiciously.
"Cross-bow," Dean said.
"Sweet," I smirked.
Three hours later the rest of the house had risen, eaten, and cleaned up. Dad had sent Dean, Sam, Aiden, and I ahead because he and Bobby had things to discuss. Dean trudged on ahead of us, quickly making a target out of a piece of plywood and spray paint.
"This isn't a toy," Sam said as he handed me the cross-bow.
It was lighter than I thought it would be but it still had a fair bit of weight to it. I bounced it in my hand taking note of the weight and the sights.
"Really, Sammy?" I scoffed. "I had no idea."
Sam scowled at me, while Aiden laughed, and Dean shot me a look. To which I gave him an innocent look.
"Show her how it's done, Sam," Dean ordered standing away from the homemade target.
I passed the crossbow back to Sam noting that he didn't say anything argumentative. I guess that whatever had pissed Sammy off a few days ago had passé for now. It looked at him, trying to see where his head was at. He had been just as scared as Dean and Dad when they came back to Jefferson's to see the walkers had found us and had us trapped upstairs. Maybe that had been enough to snap Sam out of his mood but I sensed that there was something else that was going on.
Dean had come between Aiden and I and lightly tapped the back of my head, "Pay attention, Hails."
I nodded watching as Sam pulled the string into the trigger and put an arrow into it, lining them up. He then lifted up, using his left to keep it balanced and the other one was resting near the trigger. He looked through the sight and fired, sending the arrow flying into the bull's-eye.
"Got it?" Sam asked, turning to me.
"Got it," I replied taking the crossbow from Sam's hand and following what I had seen him do. The string took a little more time to get it to go where I wanted it to but I eventually learned to discharge the arrows just as quickly and effortlessly as Sam had.
There was a sort of Zen like state that I fell into when I was training. My mind calmed down, I focused on my breathing and just reacted. The bolts from the crossbow began firing a lot more frequently as I found my groove. When all the bolts were gone, I came back into focus, noticing that almost all the bolts were in the bull's-eye.
"Good job, Hails," Dean praised, taking the crossbow from my hands.
"Thanks, Dean," I grinned.
"Okay, Dad wanted us to run laps, then sparing, then we get a break for lunch," Dean said.
"How nice of him to remember we need to eat," Sam sneered.
"Come on, Sam," Dean groaned.
No one was surprised by Sam's comment. For as long as I could remember Sam and Dad had always butted heads. Their conflicts had only gotten worse as we grew older. Instead of sticking around, I took off running towards the edge of the Salvage yard. In all my years of growing up here, I knew that Bobby owned at least acre of land. There was the salvage yard, Bobby's house, the work shop, and a shed that was more like a barn for how big it was. Bobby had also gone to great lengths to make sure that anything Supernatural couldn't get in. This place was as protected as any of our safe houses.
After our run we trudged back towards the house, noticing that the mats had been laid out. That was something that I hadn't expected to see. Of course, I wasn't surprised that Bobby had them, he seemed prepared for anything and everything. But, the fact that Dad would actually let us use mats seemed odd. Dad was a fan of keeping things 'real' as in no mats, no gloves, no nothing. The only protection you had was yourself. Dad thought that we should be trained in the same way that we had to use our skill set. Thus having mats and gloves, and the like were more a hindrance than anything else. I wondered how Bobby had won that fight, but I was glad he did because nothing said ouch more than being thrown to the ground.
"Okay, how about Hailey and Sammy spar today?" Dean suggested. "And then Aiden and I?"
We all glanced at one another and shrugged. I stepped onto the mat, looking towards Sam. Normally Aiden and I spared together but it wasn't uncommon for Sam and I to spar either. It kept all of us on our toes so that we wouldn't fall into familiarity. My eyes locked with Sam's and I noticed how angry he looked. He wasn't angry at me, I don't think. But, he was frustrated. I fell into a defensive crouch, knowing that Sam would make the first move.
The punch that Sam threw was hard and telegraphed. I grabbed his wrist using his momentum and mine to swing around, wrapping my legs around his neck and tossing him to the ground in a pin. I felt Sam tap my thigh and I let him go, rising to my feet.
"Where did you learn that from?" Dean demanded.
"Charlie showed me the last time we saw them," I grinned.
"Not bad," Dean nodded. "You alright, Sam?"
"Shut up, Dean," Sam grumbled. "Let's see if you can do that again."
I shrugged, stepping back onto the mat, barely getting away from Sam's fist as his offensive attack seemed more concentrated than before. None of us liked to lose, and the fact that I got one over on Sam, when he was already in a foul mood made him all the more likely to come at me with a lot more venom than he normally did. I skidded backward to avoid the assault, looking for an opening. Unfortunately, Sam was too well trained to leave an opening. I maneuvered around him before kicking him in the knee causing his legs to buckle.
"Okay, that's enough," Dean ordered as Sam jumped back to his feet. "How about you pick on someone your own size?"
"Dean, I can take care of it," I muttered.
Dean shot me a look, causing me to roll my eyes and step off the mat. I stepped closer to Aiden watching as Sam and Dean spared. In a lot of ways it looked the same way it must've looked when Aiden and I sparred, only Sam and Dean were more experienced and brutal. They weren't afraid of hurting each other. Punches were exchanged and both hit the mat multiple times but there was no clear winner. Both were breathing heavier as one attempted to get the advantage over the other with little success.
"Kids, lunch time!" Bobby shouted out of the kitchen window.
I turned to run back towards the house skidding through the back door and nearly into Bobby's back.
"Get cleaned up, ya idjit," Bobby ordered.
His voice was gruff but he looked like he was trying not to laugh. I saluted him, walking towards the sink to wash my hands. Once my hands were dry, I dropped into my seat as the others filed in around me. I ignored the conversation that flowed around me, mostly because it was just Bobby and Dad talking about practical applications in spell work, which Bobby had apparently read in one of the many books that littered the place.
I ate the chicken salad sandwich, happy that it wasn't take out. Being in a nomadic lifestyle, didn't really afford the luxury of home cooking. And, most meals came from diners, or those little markets that were attached to gas stations. Most of the time, I didn't care but there were times that one just got tired of junk food.
"Your turn to do the dishes, Hailey," Dad said. "Boy's I want you sparring and then there are weapons that need to be cleaned."
"Yes, sir," My brothers and I said.
Once my sandwich was gone, I cleared the table and started in on the dishes as my brother's walked out back to spar. I cleaned the dishes and put things away. I began to move towards the back door to join my brothers for more sparring. Instead, Dad clearing his throat stopped me in my tracks.
"You have schoolwork to do," Dad informed me, holding a folder filled with papers.
"It's summer," I pointed out.
"And, the last school district we were in was behind the curve, according to the Freemont Board of Education. The secretary sent over a packet for you and your brothers."
"Awesome," I mumbled.
I grabbed the folder and sat back at the kitchen table. I opened it up, wincing at the amount of work that was there. All subjects were well represented but it seemed that English was the predominant subject. I buckled down, filling out worksheets for English and History, noting that some of the books on the reading list weren't ones in my possession. Two hours later, my brothers joined me at the table. Dean was cleaning weapons while Sam, Aiden, and I worked on our homework.
"This is so stupid," Aiden mumbled.
"Quit whining, Ads, it's not like you're the one cleaning all this shit by yourself," Dean admonished.
Aiden rolled his eyes as he finished with another worksheet.
"I have books to read that we don't have," I pointed out.
"Same here," Aiden and Sam said.
"Go ask Bobby," Dean suggested.
"Does Bobby even have normal books?" I muttered to myself as I got up and walked into the study.
I was about to announce my presence when I noticed that both Dad and Bobby were standing on either side of the desk, staring down at the map. Every so often Bobby wrote something down before he sighed.
"The tip has is legit," Bobby muttered. "Cox wouldn't bullshit me."
"What exactly did he say?"
"John Dee took two bullets in '93, we watched him die," Bobby explained. "But, he didn't stay dead. I'm not really surprised, his name's John Dee, and he's big time black magic. He's on a first name basis with all the major players downstairs…"
"And, he might know what killed Mary?" Dad asked.
"It's as good of a lead as any," Bobby shrugged before he glanced up his eyes locking with mine. "What's up, Hails?"
"School sent out a book list," I said.
"Give it here," Bobby extended his hand. He frowned and nodded as he read over the book names. "I have almost all of these. They're in the attic."
"Awesome," I mumbled. "So, are you ditching us here?"
"Excuse me?" Dad asked.
"The tip from a contact in New York City," I shrugged.
I watched as Dad's eyes narrow on mine, his lips thinning as he shot a look at Bobby. Like it was his fault that I knew something that I apparently wasn't supposed to know.
"Hailey," Dad growled.
"What?" I asked. "You told me to do my work. I need to know where I'm getting these books from. Not my fault that you were talking in a normal tone of voice."
He scowled at me, to which I shrugged in response. One of the problems that Dad maybe hadn't thought about, in his quest to kill Mom's killer, might have been the skills he taught us were skills that we could use interchangeably. It wasn't so much the hunting part of our lifestyle that we used, all the time. But, the ability to read and manipulate people. They were necessary skills of the job, of course. Though, the longer we remained in this life the more it was just that: life. The was no off time, we were always working, always moving.
"What did you hear?" Dad demanded.
"John Dee has connections to downstairs, big time black magic practioner." I replied. "Only problem is he took two bullets in 1993. Bobby and someone named Cox, who knows better than to lie to Bobby, watched him die. Oh, and he might know about what killed Mom."
"Hailey," Dad frowned.
"Can we go too?" I asked. "I've never been to New York City."
"Absolutely not," Dad snapped. "Whoever this guy is, he's dangerous. I don't want you kids anywhere near him."
"You can't go alone," I protested.
"You and your brothers are staying here," Dad growled. "Bobby and I are going."
I rolled my eyes, turning around to walk up the stairs, I walked past the room I shared with my brothers to grab the string that pulled the ladder that led to the attic. I climbed up the ladder. I wrinkled my nose taking in the dusty surroundings. The lights flickered as I moved around. I saw a giant footlocker and figured that may be a place people put books. I noticed that the initials on the footlocker was K.S. I opened it up and saw that it was mostly books as well as some clothing. I really shouldn't have been surprised that Bobby needed up having all the books on the book list. I pulled them out, and shut the locker.
"Hailey, come say goodbye!" Dean called.
I pushed all the books towards the stairs so that I could grab them later. I ran down the multiple flights of stairs to where Bobby and dad were waiting in the foyer.
"Okay, you guys know the drill," Dad said. "Keep the cell phone charged, don't leave the house."
"No one should be coming by for auto repair," Bobby shrugged.
"Lock the doors and the windows, close the shades," Dad continued. "If something tries to bust in?"
"Shoot first, ask questions later," We chorused.
"Come on, guys, look alive," Dad frowned. "This stuff's important."
"Yes, sir," We agreed.
"I want to see a decent dent in all that homework when we get back," Dad ordered. "Aiden, Sam, Hailey, listen to your brother."
"And, don't wreck my house," Bobby stated. The "again" was left unsaid but we winced regardless. We had all learned the hard way not to have prank wars when the adults were away because things quickly got out of hand, and when that happened the job gets wrapped up faster leading the aforementioned adults to wander into a house that looks like a nuke had gone off.
"Don't forget about training either," Dad warned.
"Be safe," Dean stated.
"We'll check in when we get there," Dad nodded.
With final goodbyes exchanged, Dad and Bobby left, pausing on the front steps to make sure we locked the front door after them. While I was annoyed that Dad had left us behind, because I bet New York City was a lot more fun, I counted ourselves lucky because at least Bobby's house was bigger than some of the motel rooms we had been stranded in.
"Aiden, can you help me bring down the books?" I asked.
"Yeah," Aiden shrugged.
It took Aiden and I multiple trips to get all of the books down from the attic and on the kitchen table. After the trips we looked at the table that was covered in dusty literature with frowns on our faces. It was a lot of work, not that we didn't expect something like this. When you were constantly switching school districts things tended to slip through the cracks.
"You guys start reading," Dean sighed. "I'll start dinner. Anything you want?"
"Something not out of a can," I pleaded.
Sam, Dean, and Aiden exchanged glances before they all shrugged.
"I'll see what Bobby has laying around," Dean stated.
I sat down grabbing The Adventures of Tom Sawyer and beginning to read. I quickly got engrossed into the book, though I was aware of my surroundings, listening as Dean moved around the kitchen. Peaceful moments like this made me ache for something that I never had. In some other life maybe my brothers and I would be clustered around doing our homework while our mother cooked so dinner would be ready when Dad got home from work. Instead the only home I had was a 1967 Chevy Impala.
I wondered what Mom was like. My brothers and Dad didn't ever talk about her, which was odd because we were living this life to avenge her. But, she was never mentioned. I had barely seen pictures of her. I knew that I resembled her and I felt bad but I was jealous of my brothers, even Aiden had a few years with her. I only had six months and then she was gone. Our dead mothers were something that Tom Sawyer and I had in common. I instantly felt awful for making that comparison, regardless of how true it was.
"Guys, dinner," Dean called.
I put the book down moving into the kitchen where a mashed potatoes and fried chicken waited in the center of the table. Dean smirked as he caught our surprised expression. As the oldest, we all knew that he could cook but he was normally limited to whatever we had in the motel room, which more often than not was just a mini fridge and a microwave. We all dug in quietly, none of us really having much to say.
After dinner we split up, Sam and Dean going to watch television, while Aiden and I were saddled with dish washing duty. He washed while I dried. It was calm and quiet. We could almost pretend that this was an every day night for us. Instead we could feel the undercurrent of tension, the entire house was alive with it. It was filled with gas and it was waiting for a spark to level anything in its path.
When the dishes were done, I went back to my homework, finishing the rest of my history work. It wasn't that the school district hadn't sent that much history over. It was just that history was easy to do. It was worksheets and chapter outlines and Dad wanted us to know history, so he had always weaved history with Latin or into training exercises. Talking about the armies of old and how things used to be.
As I studied, Dean walked around the house making sure that the windows and doors were locked and the salt line hadn't been disturbed. Things were quiet, the cell phone was charged up and on the kitchen table so that we could all grab it easily. Because when John Winchester called, we answered, no questions ask, no calls went to voicemail. We either answered or we proved that there were life threatening circumstances. The rest of the night based by slowly as I worked on the backlog of homework.
When it finally looked like a dent had been placed in my pile, I called it a night. The sun wasn't even streaming through the open window when I was shaken awake. I groaned and swatted at the hands, baring my teeth.
"Come on, Hails, rise and shine," Dean exclaimed. "We gotta run. Five miles."
"Time's it?" I grimaced.
"Six thirty," Dean replied. "You have five minutes or I'll come back with cold water."
I growled, glaring at Dean, who smiled brightly which caused me to scowl. Not wanting cold water thrown into my face, which I knew wasn't an idle threat, I jumped out of bed and stretched. My back cracked as I crossed the floor changing out of my PJs and into workout clothing. Five miles were a bitch, but it could've been worse. When I ran down the stairs a few minutes later, Sam and Aiden were leaning against one another, clearly minutes away from falling back asleep.
"Alright, let's go," Dean ordered, clapping his hands together.
Sam, Aiden, and I stared at Dean in surprise. We all would much rather sleep in that start running at 5:30 in the morning. However, Dean was not only alert, he was hustling us out of the door. Then again, Dean had always been awake before us when we had school, to make sure that everything was ready for us.
Together we started off at a slow run, quickly building up speed as we circled the compound. We all kept pace with one another, even when we sprinted during the last half mile, enabling us to finish our run in less than forty-five minutes. I fell bonelessly onto the couch huffing out a breath as Sam and Aiden collapsed on either side of me.
"Everyone make sure to get something to eat, and then we spar, after that maybe some weapon training, before getting more of that schoolwork done." Dean announced. "Sound good?"
Various sounds of what could be agreement sounded from Sam, Aiden, and I as we trudged back into the house. I went into the kitchen and grabbed a water and an apple before plopping down on the couch. Aiden came in a few minutes later with a sandwich, he pushed my feet off the couch and sat down, stealing the remote from my grasp.
"Asshole," I muttered, kicking his ankle.
"Should've moved faster," Aiden shrugged.
I rolled my eyes, taking a huge bite out of the apple.
When Sam came in he stole the remote from Aiden, ignoring his squawk of protest as he flipped the channel. We were all stuck watching the some documentary when Dean came in fresh from a shower, snagging the remote from Sam and putting it back on the horror movie that Aiden and I had been watching originally.
"Dean," Sam huffed. "We don't need to watch this. It's not even accurate information."
"Buck up, geek wonder," Dean smirked. "Maybe you can do Aiden or Hailey's homework if you're feeling the need for education."
"Jerk," Sam mumbled.
"Bitch." Dean retorted.
Once we had all finished eating we all walked back outside to do some sparring. Every day I was getting better, getting stronger. I might not be as good as my brothers but I was quickly catching up. And it felt good. I wasn't eating mat half as much as I use to, some of Aiden's jabs, punches, and kicks no longer connected and I was hitting him almost as much as he was hitting me.
It helped that I was learning from all the hunters around me and my cousin, Charlie helped. She knew what it was like to fight someone who outweighed you by at least thirty pounds and was talker than you as well. She knew how to use those would be advantages as disadvantages and it was paying off.
Although both Sam and Dean were wrapped up in their own sparring match, I could feel eyes on Aiden and I. When I looked over I caught a glimpse of pride before I had to refocus and shuffle out of the way in order to avoid an incoming punch thrown at my face.
"Come on, Hay, you gotta pay attention," Aiden scolded. "I'm not boring you, am I?"
I held my hands up, keeping my stance loose. As I expected Aiden came closer and that's when I lunged, spinning on a heel in order to roundhouse kick Aiden off his feet. He landed flat on his back with a groan.
"Brat," Aiden hissed out a laugh.
"Problem, Ads?" I smirked. "Am I boring you?"
"Screw you," Aiden grimaced. "Me and Charlie are going to have words. That shit she's teaching you sucks."
"You mean it sucks that you're eating mat?" I responded.
The only warning I had that I had poked Aiden too hard was the glare he leveled at me before sweeping my ankles together prompting me to crash to the floor.
"What was that you were saying about eating mat?" Aiden snickered.
"Aiden!" I whined.
Aiden's laughter only caused me to get more furious as tears welled in my eyes. I jumped to my feet with a huff, kicking him in the side.
"You're an asshole!" I snapped, raising my foot to kick him again
"Hailey Jade!"
I turned around, a glower planted firmly on my face. I was still angry, my feeling were hurt and I knew that I was in trouble the look on Dean's face said as much.
"Go to your room right now," Dean ordered. "Corner."
"Dean!" I whined. "That's not fair."
"That was an order, little girl," Dean responded.
With a sob I ran into Bobby's house, slamming the door behind me as I rushed up the stairs and into my room. I was furious and I felt even more humiliated than I had before. I couldn't believe that Dean had banished me into the corner. I folded my arms over my chest, and kicked the baseboard.
A few minutes later I felt more than heard Dean's arrival. I didn't turn around, knowing that I wasn't supposed to move until I was told. I heard the springs on the bed creak as Dean sat down, and resisted the urge to squirm as I felt his eyes at my back.
"Turn around, Hails," Dean ordered.
I spun on my heels, rubbing at my eyes.
"Want to tell me what that display was?" Dean asked.
"Aiden always picks on me," I growled. "Just when I was winning, he knocked me down and laughed at me."
"And that gives you the right to kick him?" Dean questioned.
"I didn't kick him hard," I mumbled.
"That wasn't what I asked, Hailey."
"You're not going to listen to me," I demanded and then accused, "you're on his side."
"There are no sides to this," Dean corrected. "Aiden shouldn't have made fun of you, but that doesn't give you the right to kick him. Let alone try to kick him again."
"I wasn't going to kick him hard," I repeated. "Besides it probably didn't even hurt."
"Hailey Jade, you're missing the point," Dean stated. "It doesn't matter whether or not it actually hurt, the fact that you retaliated with violence is not okay."
"Our lives are violent, Dean," I protested.
"If you're telling me that you can't tell the difference between a hunt and our personal lives, than you're telling me that you aren't ready," Dean warned.
I couldn't help the scowl that went across my face at that. I had worked my ass off trying to convince Dad that I was ready to train, one word from Dean could knock me al the way back to the kiddie table, where I was only allowed to research and read about things.
"So, what now?" I asked.
"First you'll apologize to Aiden," Dean started. "Then you can park your butt at the kitchen table and knock out more homework."
I was surprised that I was walking away from this without my ass whipped and it must've showed on my face because Dean said, "I think this was a one time thing. If you prove me wrong, I will be very upset. Get me?"
"Yes, Dean," I replied.
"Good," Dean said, standing up to give me a hug. "I know that you're going through a difficult time. Things are changing and you feel older but we're still treating you like a kid. But, sooner or later, Hails, you'll have all the responsibilities we have and I'm not sure you're ready for all that. Try to be a kid a little longer. For me?"
"Okay," I agreed.
"Good," Dean smiled only to spin me out of his embrace and give me a firm smack to the backside. "Go do what I told you."
I quickly walked out of my room hugging down the stairs only to find both Sam and Aiden had moved into the living room, each had a bottle of water in their hand.
"Catch," Aiden called, lobbing a bottle of water towards my head, knowing that I'd catch it. I did breaking the cap off to take a big sip.
"Thanks," I said. "I'm sorry I kicked you."
"Don't worry about it, Hails," Aiden responded. "I shouldn't have picked on you."