Author/Underhill's Note: CHAPTER 21, WHUT. I literally just finished this. But yes... Uh. Sorry, I'm a little weird after I take naps and I took like a thirty minute nap and now I'm weird omg what. Okay, as usual: disclaimers DISCLAAAIMEEEEERS; I don't own anything Supernatural except the original plot in this story (and even then, doesn't it REALLY belong to Dean and Cas? SERIOUSLY STOP ME). Also: reviewers, if I could give you pie, somehow mail it without it like, dying on the way, I would TOTALLY do so. You are awesome (miss Nightlock, Fulminata!)! Now, there's always this third thing I forget about, and I swear someday I will remember what it is... ANYWAY. I hope you enjoy this chapter and stuff, and please review, peoples! I'll be all happy and smiley and I might do a little dance (no promises who am I kidding there will be a dance).
Feb 23, Pontiac, Illinois
Claire's mother wheeled her out of the hospital two days after she woke up. She's told she was out for four and a half days. The doctors can't explain it either. She wasn't in a coma, there was no brain damage - - she passed out at the dance and went to sleep, and wouldn't wake up.
No one visited her at the hospital, but she did get flowers. Some from Josh, some from her best friend (at least she used to be before Claire started putting distance between them) Andrea, and some unlabeled, probably from a teacher or something.
She's at home now, on the couch, TV switched to Dr. Sexy. This show is TERRIBLE, Claire thinks.
She turns the volume up a notch.
She hears her mom bang around upstairs and winces. Amelia Novak has been doing worse than usual the last few days, and Claire suspects why. The empty liquor bottles in the recycling bin tell a pretty damning story.
Claire throws her slippered feet off the couch and onto the floor. She walks to the base of the stairs and calls out gently, "Mom?" Another bang, and Claire decides to investigate further. She starts padding slowly up the steps.
When she reaches the top, she sees her mother rifling through the hall closet, a big cardboard box open next to her.
"Mom. What are you doing?"
Amelia Novak doesn't answer right away. She's throwing linens and towels into the box and Claire already knows where this is heading.
"We're leaving," her mother says. "I saw… We're not staying here. I don't know why we didn't leave in the first place. It's not safe here, there's… I…"
Claire doesn't respond to that. Instead, she kneels next to her mother and starts folding sheets. Her mother sends her a grateful look and Claire gives her a faint smile.
Whatever her mother saw has to be bad, so she'll go.
"I'll pack up the kitchen next," her mother says, "you get your room. I want to be on the road by nightfall."
Jesus, really bad. Claire kicks off her slippers and quickens her pace. She'll have to travel light.
Feb 23, Sioux Falls, South Dakota
"Sam. You need to return to Sioux Falls."
That's the first thing Sam hears when he picks up the phone. "What? Why?"
"Bobby's wife. She's… back."
"…What?"
"Death has passed through Sioux Falls, and the dead are rising. Among them is Bobby's wife. He refuses to listen to reason. She must be destroyed."
"…What?" When he'd picked up the phone, this was not the conversation he'd been expecting. He thought maybe Cas or Bobby had a case, not that Cas and Bobby ARE the case.
"Death has passed through Sio - - "
"Dammit, Cas, I heard you! You don't need to repeat it."
"You did not appear to understand." Cas's voice comes staticky through the line..
"Cas, I swear… Just. Nevermind. Tell me exactly what happened."
Feb 25
Bobby won't look at anyone after. He'll forgive them, but it will take some time. Castiel wonders if he should vacate the house for a few weeks, but Bobby tells him to stay. Sam and Rufus are a different story. Bobby tells Sam to get out, and Rufus that "we're even now," before wheeling his chair so his back's to them. Rufus's face is stunned, but he appears to take it at face value.
Sam had called Rufus once Cas had explained what was going on. They met halfway towards Bobby's, then proceeded together. Now Bobby's wife is dead, and there's still a town-wide mess to take care of.
Bobby gave them the list he made of families whose loved ones rose, and they use it to go from house to house in the middle of the night, silently dispatching zombies, doing what needs to be done. More than a few people wake up, and Sam has to explain (which usually ends with locking them in a closet) why they're doing what they're doing. By morning, they're finished.
Sam knows he's done the right thing. Doesn't mean he feels good about it.
Time: Irrelevant, The Green Room
He's been in the room for days with no word from L. There's nothing to occupy himself with. Sure, he's found the room supplies him with just about anything he wants, except a goddamn exit, but he can only play solitaire so many times. He tried studying, but that seemed pointless. TV is a bust; he can't get a signal. Other than that, he doesn't know what to do. His entire life was centered around school and working his stupid job at the pizza parlor. He'd never had time to come up with extracurriculars.
And for some reason, the room only serves bacon cheeseburgers and cheap beer.
He's gently hitting his head against the wall when he hears L again.
"You're going to give yourself a concussion, kid."
"No, I'm not," he says, continuing to beat his head. "Not hitting it hard enough."
"Well, you can stop. I've got news."
"You've got something other than hamburgers? That would be good news."
L laughs. "No, I'm springing you." Adam perks up. "Thought that might make you happy."
"Where are we heading?" Adam asks, maybe too eagerly but goddamn does he need to get out of here.
"You're heading for Buffalo. Small storage space. Used to be your dad's."
"You're not coming with me?" Adam feels a spike of panic.
"What?" he croaks.
"I can't come with you." At Adam's gaping expression, he says, "I'm not corporeal, idiot. I can't walk around until your equally idiotic brother finds my vessel."
Adam's known for a while that L is an angel; it wasn't hard to guess. He's not sure how he feels about it, but he owes L big, so he's not overanalyzing it.
"You've been talking to my brother?" He's still having a hard time wrapping his head around the fact that he has a brother, even though the ghouls had fun rubbing that in.
"Yes. He's pretty annoying. Can't pay attention AT ALL, always wandering off in dreamland."
"Dreamla - - you know what, I'm not going to ask. Why are you having him find your vessel? Why can't you get it?"
"Uh. That's." Adam has a feeling that whatever reason L's not telling is pretty embarrassing. "Anyways!" Oh yeah, definitely embarrassing. "He's good at that kind of thing. You know, tracking stuff down, killing things, though he's kind of dropped the ball on that last one lately."
"So what's in this storage place?" Adam asks. "Why there?"
"It's safe, for one. Your dad was a paranoid bastard, and he warded that place against people, demons, all kinds of monsters except angels, and that's only because he didn't know about them. Also, you're going to need supplies. You can't stay in the space for long."
"Supplies? What's in it?"
"Oh, you'll see. Your dad is FULL of surprises. After you get what you need, you'll have to get out of town."
"Where?"
"Pick a direction. It doesn't matter. I don't know where your oldest brother is, and I'm not sending you to other one. He's in the middle of too much crap for you to be safe with. I'll be looking for Dean. When I find him, I'll send you his way. Until then, keep on the move."
"For how long?" Adam asks, though he has a feeling he knows the answer already.
"Until I find him. Can't give you a timeframe, so, find some way to occupy yourself. Uh, an incognito way to occupy yourself. Now, are you ready?"
Fuck, no. "Fuck, no."
L laughs. "Good answer. See you later, kid."
He feels a vague nausea in his stomach as he's swept from the Green Room. Right before he lands, he hears, "And remember, keep moving!"
Feb 28, outside of Buffalo, New York
He lands right on his face. Hard. He gets the feeling that the landing could have been gentler, but L's truly an asshole. An asshole he owes his life to, but still. Asshole.
He pushes himself up to his feet and stumbles about in the dark a bit till he finds a light. It's still fairly dark, even after he turns it on. The place is crowded, full to the brim with random crap interspersed with creepy objects - - skulls, bottles full of dubious liquid, even a trail of two bloody footsteps on the ground.
Jesus, this is - - was - - his father's?
But L landed him for a reason; so he needs to get out of here. First though, L said he could find what he needed here. He starts searching around.
He skips past suspicious looking bottles and musty books, picks up a sawed-off shotgun instead.
Goes into a room full of boxes, one's missing, but he's not focused on that, because...
Holy hell, is that a wall of GUNS? He steps closer and starts looking them over, one by one. Guns, knives, some… okay, he has no idea what that one is...
And… are those land mines?!
He shakes that off and grabs one of the knives, figuring on it being useful, and a small handgun, one he actually knows how to use. His uncle - - shit, should he call his uncle? - - took him to a shooting range once, though Adam hadn't taken it very seriously. He kind of wishes he had now.
He grabs a box of shotgun shells next, a couple of clips for the handgun, and a sheath for the knife, and stuffs them into a small, empty duffle lying forgotten to the side. He doesn't touch the land mines.
Then he sees the box. It's metal, about the size of two shoeboxes and a little deeper, and it's full of an assortment of papers and photos. He picks up the stack of photos on the top.
There's one of a small boy, maybe five or six, holding a baby, and another of the same boys but older, the eldest in his late teens and the younger (but already taller one) in his early. John has an arm around each other them, and the younger - - Sam? - - doesn't look happy about. He has a sullen, sulky face, that immediately makes Adam take a dislike to him. The older - - Dean, probably - - has a solemn, serious look. John is smiling widely in contrast, and Adam feels another surge of anger at the man.
Another is of Dean, older still, holding and aiming a rifle, and for the first time Adam feels empathy for his brother. He'd felt jealous at first; they grew up with a father and he hadn't. But this? He gets the feeling that growing up with John Winchester was worse than growing up without him. He throws the photos in his duffle.
Lastly he digs up some old clothes, long in the legs but they still fit. He takes a few shirts and pants and looks around. Is there anything else he needs? Should he be looking at some of the more exotic items? Shit, he thinks, he can't even identify half of them, and he'd have no idea how to use them. No, he's done here.
He takes one last look around. This is all that's John Winchester's left behind. A few guns, some old photos, and, of all things, land mines.
So what if maybe he feels a little sad for John too.
March 1, New York, New York
"Lugosi and Steele Antiquities," Dean answers.
"Uh, is this Barton Steele?" It's a man, who sounds decidedly nervous. That's not entirely uncommon in this line of work, because in cases of exorcisms the customers are always a little jumpy.
"Yes, Steele speaking. How may I be of assistance?" Dean is grimacing as he speaks; speaking professionally still chafes.
"Um, this may sound strange, but me and my sister kind of need help…"
"That's what we do. What can we find for you?"
"Nothing, really. We're just in a, uh, spot of trouble… You see, there's this Hunter…"
Bela's eyes widen.
"… Okay, how did you get this number?" Dean asks.
"Carli Black," the man says. When Dean doesn't answer, the man continues, "Uh, the skin walker clan you helped like, two weeks ago?"
Dean pauses. This is unexpected. "They gave you this number?"
"Yeah, they said you were big help against the Hunter that was - - "
"Look, we're trying to keep out of this crap. We don't want to get involved in any Hunter v monster battles - - "
"We're not monsters! We've never hurt anyone!" the man - - boy? - - asserts almost desperately. "We're not all like the ones you see on the news - - we don't murder people or rob banks. I'm a student, and my sister's a nurse! We… our mom… but we would never!"
Dean looks across the phone at Bela. The kid sounds panicked, and he's betting he wouldn't call if there were anywhere else he could go. It seems callous to leave these kids to the wolves, but…
"We can pay you, I swear, we've got a little in savings - - "
"Fuck," Dean mutters. He raises his eyebrows at Bela, asking permission. After a small hesitation, she nods. They didn't go through Hell to be like the demons who tortured them, who let them be tortured and watched.
"Keep your money, kid." The kid lets out a desperate sounding choke, because he thinks they aren't going to help them, but Dean cuts him off. "We'll help. Now, tell me exactly what's going on."
Dean gets a horrible feeling that by helping these kids? That this is is just the beginning of something.
March 4, Michigan
Sam wakes up, blinking blearily. He's on his stomach, and he's pretty sure he's still a little drunk. Even this out of it, though, he knows someone's in the room. He reaches under his pillow, but finds nothing.
"Looking for this?"