Author's Note: Thank you to everyone who has taken the time to post a review on this story. It means a lot to me to know that people appreciate what I'm doing.
This chapter sorta got away from me and took on a life of its own. I had an idea when I started where I wanted to go with it, but it veered off in another direction. It's a bit fluffy (and I couldn't decide what, if anything, I wanted to cut out), but we all need a little fluff in our lives every now and then. I hope you like it.
CHAPTER 6
Dean paused outside Krissy's bedroom door. He was exhausted - more than he'd been in a long time - and it was the wee hours of the morning. He and Sam had spent the last few hours discussing how they were going to handle having the teenager in their lives. Decisions had eventually been made as to the rules she'd follow, how they'd train her to become a hunter, and how they'd handle their own hunts. His head was still spinning with all of the issues they'd discussed.
He sighed heavily before lightly knocking on the wooden door. He hoped she was asleep. But given everything that she'd been through over the last 24 hours, he wouldn't have bet on it.
When there was no response to his light knock, Dean eased the door open and peeked inside. His heart gave a little hitch when he spotted Krissy curled up on her side atop the covers of her bed. He quietly entered the room and went to the linen chest that sat along the wall beside the chest of drawers. He opened it with the intention of taking out a blanket to spread over the sleeping girl, but the musty smell nearly overwhelmed him. He quickly shut the lid and shoot his head to rid himself of the memory of the stench.
Leaving the door ajar, he moved to his room and collected a clean blanket from his linen chest. Dean returned to Krissy's room, where he spread the blanket over her sleeping form and tucked it in around her shoulders. As he did so, he couldn't help but notice the dried tears on her cheeks and the dampness of her pillow. He immediately knew that she'd cried herself to sleep.
Dean signed and shook his head in sympathy as he ran his hand down the sleeping teenager's hair. He felt for her. He really did. Her life had been upended in more ways than one in the couple of years. Once again, due to circumstances outside of her control, she was facing major changes in her life. The next few months, or longer, were going to be hard on all of them.
After adjusting the blanket, he turned and left the room, closing the door softly behind him. He returned to his room and fell into his bed, hoping that he'd be able to get at least a few hours of sleep in before he had to deal with the mess his life had become. His last thought before he slid into sleep was a hope that Krissy's attitude would improve with sleep, because he wasn't sure his temper would take much more of it.
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Krissy rolled onto her back and stretched as she awoke the next morning. She was stiff and had a pounding headache to go with her scratchy eyes. She didn't know if it was from crying herself to sleep, from the musty smelling bed clothes, or a combination of both.
She noticed the blanket that had been spread over her as she sat up. Lifting it to her face, she took a sniff of the clean scent. She narrowed her eyes in concentration as she tried to figure out where it had come from. The only answer she could come up with was that either Dean or Sam had come into her room after she was asleep and had spread it over her. While she was thankful for the clean blanket, she wasn't sure how she felt about the idea of either of the Winchester brothers being in her room while she slept.
She sighed as she moved to her feet and pushed the question aside to be dwelt on later. Grabbing her duffle from where it was resting on the desk, she dug through it until she found her toiletry bag, a somewhat clean towel, and her last clean change of clothes. The thought that she'd need to find a way to wash her clothes before long crossed her mind as she made her way to the Women's bathroom across the hall.
Krissy knew just by looking at it that the bunker was really old (just short of ancient by her way of thinking), but she was impressed by the shower facilities in the Women's bathroom. She'd expected to find a community shower - an open room with basic showerheads and faucets spaced out along the walls. She hadn't been thrilled with the idea of having to shower in such a situation, but since she was the only woman in the bunker the idea really hadn't bothered her that much. Instead, she found a room with head high tiled walls creating six individual shower stalls - three on each side of a center aisle.
Krissy picked the middle stall on the right. As she entered the enclosed space, she realized it was larger than she'd thought it would be. There were multiple hooks on the back of the door for a towel and her clothes and shelves for her toiletries. She could tell from their location that the shelves and hooks would be out of the range of the spray from the showerhead coming out of the wall. She turned to study the shower hardware. Instead of the basic showerhead she'd expected, the one she saw looked like it could be changed to adjust the volume and speed of the spray.
She placed nearly empty travel bottles of shampoo and conditioner and a sliver of soap on the toiletry shelf. She needed to go shopping soon, she thought to herself. She looked around the shower room as she hung her clean clothes on a hook inside the shower cubicle and spotted a shelf with towels and washcloths near the entrance. They were probably just as dirty and musty as the sheets on her bed, she thought as she moved to check them out. She was surprised to discover that, although they weren't exactly fresh, they didn't have a musty smell either. Someone had washed them at least a few months before. Krissy couldn't help but wonder who that might have been. Sam and Dean didn't strike her as the type to have a cleaning service, nor did they seem the type to wash anything they weren't using themselves.
Krissy grabbed a washcloth and a towel and carried them back to her shower cubicle. She draped the towel on a hook and the washcloth over the hot water faucet. Stripping off her clothes, she tossed them into the floor of the aisle between the shower stalls before turning back to adjust the faucets until the water was the perfect temperature.
Several minutes later, after the best shower she'd had in a long time, Krissy dried off and quickly dressed. Gathering her dirty clothes and wet towel, she made her way back to her room. There, she used the sink in her room to brush her teeth, then she twisted her damp hair into a braid that fell down her back. She'd need to see about getting a hair dryer, she thought briefly.
She sighed as she pulled the blanket off her bed and folded it before draping it over the back of her desk chair. She then moved to strip the old, musty smelling blankets and sheets off her bed and stuffed them into the laundry hamper she'd spotted near the sink. There had to be a laundry facility in this place, she thought. If not, she'd rather sleep on the bare mattress than spend another night on those nasty sheets.
Krissy's mind wandered as she glanced around the room looking for something else to do. She'd known yesterday when she'd slipped out the restroom window that there would be hell to pay if Dean and Sam actually came after her, and at the time she'd thought the consequences would be worth it to see how they would react to her taking off. Finding the store and testing her shoplifting skills while she waited to see if they'd come after her had just been an added bonus. She smiled briefly at the thought that it had been the Winchesters, not the store clerk, who'd caught her in the act. Now that she was actually facing the prospect of those consequences, though, she wasn't so sure it was worth it. She had a really bad feeling that Dean wasn't going to go easy on her.
Krissy moved to the bedside table and picked up her phone. Turning it on, she saw it was almost dead, so she dug the charger out of her backpack and plugged it into the outlet beside the desk. As it flashed on to signal it had begun charging, she noticed the time - 8:30. She didn't take Dean or Sam as being people who slept in, and she figured one of them would be coming to get her soon. Given her choice, she'd rather put off any discussion with them as long as possible, but she figured her chances were at least marginally better if she voluntarily went to them rather than annoying them by making them have to come looking for her.
She took a deep breath to steady herself before stepping out into the empty hallway. Dean's bedroom door was closed. Since she didn't know if he kept it closed all the time or just when he was in there, she knew she couldn't read anything into that. She pulled her door closed and started down the hallway in the direction of where Sam had told her she'd find the kitchen.
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Sam sat at the kitchen table and sipped his coffee as he watched Dean puttering around the room, gathering stuff to start cooking breakfast. This domestic side that had started coming out in his older brother since they'd moved into the bunker had really surprised Sam. It was something he'd never expected to see, but Dean seemed to really enjoy cooking and messing around in the kitchen.
"What do you think, Sammy?"
Dean's question pulled Sam out of the thoughts that were running through his head and back into the present.
"What?" he asked, completely clueless about what his brother was asking. He looked over to see Dean holding an old fashioned wooden cutting board.
"I found this in the back of a cabinet a few weeks ago," Dean said. He handed the cutting board over to Sam when his younger brother rose from his seat at the table and came to examine it. "I'd set aside since I've got a new one. But I think it might come in handy during my discussion with Krissy later."
Sam took the cutting board from his brother. It looked to be made of a solid quarter inch thick piece of oak. The cutting surface was about ten inches long and about eight inches wide, and there was a sturdy handle on one end. Knowing where Dean was headed with his question, Sam gave it a couple of experimental swings. It had a nice heft to it, but wasn't too heavy. "Yeah," he said as he laid the wooden implement on the counter, "I think it would work to get your point across."
"That's what I thought, too," Dean said as he opened the refrigerator and pulled out an egg carton and package of bacon. "It'll save wear and tear on my hand, and I can hold my belt in reserve." He placed the food on the counter and turned to watch his brother, who was refilling his coffee cup.
"I'll go to the store while you're dealing with Krissy," Sam said as he carried his coffee back to the table. "We need food, and I'm sure there are some things Krissy will need. Plus, that will give you two some privacy. Get me a list of anything you need."
Dean nodded. He knew his brother wasn't being squeamish about the prospect that it would likely get noisy later when he was busting Krissy's backside, and sound seemed to travel well through the tile and marble hallways of the bunker. Rather, there was a well-ingrained understanding that had carried over from their childhood that being spanked was something that occurred in private. "The only things I can think that I need are toothpaste and razors," he said nonchalantly, as if the previous discussion hadn't occurred.
"Oh, yeah," Dean paused what he was doing when a thought occurred to him. "Apparently neither of us thought about it last night, but the sheets on Krissy's bed need to be changed and washed. They're musty. I noticed when I went in to check on her before I went to bed."
Sam nodded just as he spotted the young woman in question lurking outside the kitchen door. He didn't know how long she'd been there, and the closed expression on her face didn't reveal how much of their previous conversation she might have heard. He gestured for her to come into the room as he replied, "I'll get her my extra clean set. She can put those on her bed, then wash the ones stripped off her bed and the spare set from the linen chest in her room. I'll show her where the laundry room is located during our tour."
Krissy stepped into the room. Sam studied her face as he responded to Dean. Sam saw something flash across her features before she schooled them into a look of boredom, but it was gone so quickly he had been able to tell what it was. Perfect, Sam thought sardonically. She hadn't been in the kitchen five minutes and was already sporting an attitude. That really boded well for the rest of the morning's agenda.
Sam stood and gestured toward the coffee pot. "You want a cup of coffee,a glass of orange juice, or something?"
"I'll take a cup of coffee with cream and sugar," Krissy said as she plopped down into one of the chairs at the table.
"Sorry, kid," Dean said as he looked up from his meal preparations. "We're all out of cream and sugar. If you want coffee, you'll have to drink it black."
She made a scoffing sound. "I should have known."
Sam gave her a hard look. "If you ask politely, I just might be persuaded to add coffee creamer and sugar to my grocery list. Now do you want a cup of coffee or not?"
Krissy studied Sam for a moment before saying, "Sam, if you would be so nice, could you please add coffee creamer and sugar to your grocery list. And, yes, please, may I have a cup of coffee. I'll do my best to drink it black."
Neither brother missed the sarcasm in her voice. Choosing to pick his battles, Sam decided to ignore her attitude for the moment and poured steaming coffee into a thick white mug. "Here," he said as he handed it to her. "Bring it with you and come with me."
"Where are we going?" Krissy demanded, still seated at the table. She accepted the mug from Sam and frowned at the bitter taste as she took a sip of the hot liquid.
"I'm going to take you on a tour of the bunker while Dean cooks breakfast," Sam replied.
"What if I don't want to?"
Sam pulled the coffee mug from Krissy's hand and set it on the table in front of her. He then grasped her upper arm and pulled her to her feet. "Then you're going anyway. The only choice you have is whether you go willingly or are pulled along behind me."
Krissy studied Sam's face for a moment. She wanted the tour, especially to find out where the laundry room was located so she could wash her bed sheets and her clothes, but she didn't want to make it look like she was willing to just follow along with what she was told. That didn't go with the personna she was trying to project.
After glancing in Dean's direction and seeing that he had paused in laying stips of bacon into a skillet to watch her and Sam, she jerked her arm from Sam's loose grip and picked her coffee mug up from the table. "Well, are we going or not?" she asked as she took a sip, waiting for Sam to lead the way.
A muscle jumped in Sam's jaw as he gritted his teeth. He knew that Krissy was deliberately trying to get a rise out of him, but he was determined that he wasn't going to take the bait.
Krissy had overheard the end of the brother's conversation regarding her bed sheets, so she wasn't surprised when Sam stopped in front of his closed bedroom door. "Wait here," he said as he opened the door. "I'll get you that set of sets."
Krissy watched through the open doorway as Sam went to a small chest sitting along the wall near the chest of drawers. He stooped to open the chest and pulled out a stack of neatly folded linens. She took a step closer so she could see more of Sam's room. Other than a few stacks of books here and there, a closed laptop computer on the desk, and a flat screen television on the chest of drawers, the room was as plain and featureless as her own. It didn't appear that he had made any attempt to make the room his own. The thought of it made her sad for him.
Sam stepped out the door and closed it shut behind himself. He started to hold out the pile of linens, then remembered the steaming cup of coffee she was carrying and instead tucked them against his chest.
"By the way, I'll be going to the store later. If you'll make me a list, I'll pick up whatever you need," he said in a friendlier tone of voice, hoping the easier approach would help defuse some of the tension between them.
Krissy thought for a moment. She did need soap, shampoo, and conditioner. Those were easy to put on her list. But, the pimple she'd found on her forehead that morning warned her that she was going to need supplies of a different nature in about a week, and she was completely out. There was no way she could add that kind of stuff to Sam's grocery list. It was just too embarrassing. "Could I go with you? There's some … uh … personal things I need to pick up."
"No, I'm sorry, Krissy. It's best if you stick around the bunker for a while," Sam replied. He studied her face as he spoke and saw the blush of embarrassment creep into her features.
"Please, Sam? I promise I won't try and pull anything at the store. It's just that I need to get a few things I can't put on the list."
It suddenly dawned on Sam what Krissy was trying so desperately not to have to say. "It's okay, Krissy. I lived with my girlfriend, Jessie, for a couple of years before she was killed by a demon. I've bought feminine hygiene products before. It's really no big deal," he said as he watched Krissy's cheeks grow even redder with embarrassment. "It's a natural part of life," he shrugged and continued as if Krissy wasn't about to die of mortification. "Write down what you need, and I'll get it for you."
Deciding, to Krissy's relief, that nothing further needed to be said on the topic, he started down the hallway."Come on," he said, "let's go get your bed changed, and you can think about that list."
He led her to her own bedroom. Opening the door, he stepped back and gestured for her to precede him. "Good, you've already stripped it," he observed as he separated one of the sheets from the pile. "Do you know how to make a bed with hospital corners?" he asked. "None of the sheets are fitted."
Krissy took a large sip of the cooling coffee. "No," she said simply.
Sam nodded. "Put your coffee over there," he directed nodded with his head toward the desk, "then come over here. I'll teach you how it's done."
This was something she wanted to know, so she moved across the room and, taking another long drink from the mug, put her coffee on the desk. She was starting to get used to the bitterness of the dark liquid and was even beginning to like it.
"Okay, show me," she said, turning back to Sam.
Sam nodded, pleased with her show of cooperation and interest. He walked her through how to make the bed, patiently showing her each step. When they were finished, they both stepped back and silently admired their work.
"You have an extra set of linens in that chest," he told Krissy, pointing to the small chest that was in the same location as the one in Sam's room. "Wash those, too, when you wash the ones you stripped off your bed. Put one set of them back in my room to replace the set I loaned you."
"Okay," Krissy nodded as she moved back to the desk to grab her coffee mug. She drained it, but continued to hold on to it. His request wasn't unreasonable, and she appreciated the fact that he'd been willing to help her out. She figured it wouldn't ruin her image too much if she were nice to Sam about this.
Sam eyed the teenager for a moment before leading her out of the room, wondering why she was suddenly being cooperative. "If you behave yourself Dean and I will take you to Carson Springs in a week or two to get your stuff from Victor's house, and you can decorate your room however you want," he said, deciding not to look at her change in behavior too closely, afraid he'd jinx it or something.
Krissy nodded in acknowledgement of his words, but didn't say anything. The thought of having her own stuff was appealing, but it also indicated that this new living arrangement was more long-term than temporary. She still wasn't sure how she felt about that.
After glancing at Krissy to gauge her reaction to his last statement, Sam headed down the hallway to lead the teenager through the labyrinth of the bunker's corridors. He showed her the location of the laundry room and explained how to use the ancient washer and dryer. He also showed her the gym, telling her that once she demonstrated that she could use the equipment without injuring herself she would be allowed free access to the room. Sam took her by the shooting range, telling her that she would be receiving instruction in handling firearms from Dean. He also told her in no uncertain terms that at no time was she to be in the shooting without him or Dean with her.
Finally, they made their way to the library. "It's a research library," Sam explained as they stepped into the vast room. "All the books here deal with the occult or the supernatural. You're free to use it whenever you want. I just ask that you keep the materials shelved correctly. We may need to find something in a hurry, and that's hard if something has been misplaced. There's an old fashioned card catalog," he said as he pointed out the large cabinet. "I've been keeping it updated as I add books. I'll teach you how to use it."
"Why don't you just put it on the computer?" Krissy asked. She was genuinely curious about the answer.
"I would if I had time," Sam responded. He glanced over at Krissy. "That might be a project for you to do while you're here."
"Yeah, I don't think so," Krissy responded as she walked away and began browsing the titles of the books on a nearby shelf.
Moving to one of the sturdy wooden tables located in the center of the room Sam took a seat and pointed to the chair across from him. "Take a seat, Krissy," he instructed in a firm voice that indicated he expected to be obeyed.
Krissy studied Sam for a moment before obeying his order. Wondering why he'd suddenly gone stern, she slumped down in the seat, dropped her now empty coffee mug on the table, and crossed her arms over her chest. "What?"
Sam frowned and steepled his fingers in front of his mouth as he studied Krissy's face. She was beginning to squirm in discomfort at the close scrutiny when he finally stated, "I don't know if that attitude you've been sporting is something you've come up with just for my and Dean's benefit, or if you've developed it as a defense mechanism. But, I'm warning you now, Krissy. You'd be well served to lose it. Dean's not going to put up with it for very much longer. And, frankly, neither am I."
Sam leaned forward so he could grasp Krissy's chin and raise it so her eyes met hers. "I may be more laid back and patient than Dean. But, like Dean, I expect obedience and respect from you. If you push me far enough, I will push back, and you won't like it. Spanking you may not be my go-to punishment for you, but I will do it if I deem it necessary." He released her chin and sat back in his chair. "Do you understand what I'm telling you?"
Krissy nodded.
"I want to hear your response, young lady," Sam ordered.
"Yes, sir."
Sam grinned approvingly. "Good, now that that's settled," he said, his tone much lighter than had been only seconds before, "I want you to make that shopping list for me." He rose and grabbed a notepad and pen from a nearby shelf.
"Is that it?" Krissy asked, somewhat confused. She'd expected "the talk" to be … well ... more, she supposed.
"Is what it?" Sam asked. It was his turn to be confused for a moment until he realized what she was asking. "No, that's not it. That was just getting things clear between the two of us. After breakfast you, me, and Dean are going to have a serious, detailed discussion about you living here with us and your actions yesterday." He returned to the table and slid the notepad and pen to Krissy. "Now, make that list for me."
He watched as Krissy began writing down the things she needed from the store. When she was finished, she slid the notepad back to Sam. He tore the top sheet of paper off and glanced at it before he folded it and put it in his shirt pocket. He would add her list to the one in his phone later. "Come on," he said, coming to his feet. "Dean's probably got breakfast ready."
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When they walked into the kitchen, Krissy was a little surprised to see Dean putting a platter of scrambled eggs and bacon and a plate of toast down in the center of the rectangular table. The table had already been set, with place settings and juice glasses at the head of the table and on either side. A jug of orange juice was near one of the plates.
"Take a seat," Dean said as he turned to toss the dishtowel he'd had draped across his shoulder onto the counter.
Krissy took the seat on the left, nearest the hall doorway, while Sam walked around the table to take the seat opposite her. That left the seat at the head of the table for Dean.
"Well, dig in," Dean ordered as he reached for the jug of orange juice and filled his glass. He watched as Krissy spooned a small serving of scrambled eggs onto her plate and took a couple slices of bacon and a slice of toast before passing the platter across the table to Sam.
The room was mostly silent as they ate, with Dean and Sam occasionally making small talk and trying, unsuccessfully to draw Krissy into their conversation. It was so utterly normal that Krissy had to remind herself that she couldn't allow herself to get close to either Winchester brother. She had to protect herself. That way it wouldn't hurt so much when the inevitable happened and they left her behind - just like everyone else in her life had done. After all, the only reason she was here was because they'd made a promise to Sheriff Mills. Krissy was sure that wasn't going to tie them down to her for long.
Sam watched Krissy's face as they ate. He wasn't sure what exactly was going through her head, but there was definitely something that was bothering her. He'd caught a brief look of sadness and defeat before she'd realized he was watching her and schooled her features into her standard look of boredom. That brief glance was enough to give him some idea about her mental state and what they were dealing with.
Krissy finished her breakfast and looked first at Sam and then at Dean. Both men were seemingly lost in their meals and didn't appear to be paying attention to what she was doing. She scooted her chair back and had started to rise to her feet when Dean's hand shot out and grabbed her forearm.
"Just where do you think you're going?" he asked around a mouthful of eggs.
"Anywhere but here," she replied as she tried to pull her arm from his grasp.
"I don't think so. We're overdue for a serious talk, and I don't want to have to go searching for you when it's time. No, you just sit your little butt back down in that chair until Sammy and I are finished."
She glanced over at Sam and noticed he was studying her. He had a disconcerting habit of doing that, and Krissy couldn't help but suspect he was starting to see through the "tough guy" facade she'd been trying to maintain.
"Fine," she said as she dropped back into her chair and crossed her arms over her chest. She glared at Dean as he continued to eat.
Dean was acutely aware of the glare being sent his way. He just made a mental note of it and continued to enjoy his breakfast as though nothing was happening. Several minutes passed before he popped the final bite of bacon into his mouth and wiped his hands before tossing his napkin onto his plate.
Sam stood and gestured to the hallway. "Dean, could I talk to you in the hall for a moment while Krissy clears the table and does the dishes?"
Dean considered the look Sam was giving him and nodded, coming to his feet. On his way toward the doorway he besided Krissy's chair. She continued to stare straight ahead rather than meet his gaze. He shook his head at her stubbornness. "If you know what's good for you, young lady, you'll do the dishes just like Sammy told you." He didn't wait for a response before following Sam out into the hallway.
"If you know what's good for you, you'll do the dishes just like Sammy told you," Krissy repeated in an exaggerated mimic. She debated briefly about ignoring the order, but her sense of self-preservation kicked in. She was already in enough trouble, and she knew she really didn't want to add anymore to it. Sighing heavily, she stood and stacked the dirty dishes before carrying them over to the large sink to wash them and the pans Dean had used to fix the meal.
Dean and Sam stood just outside the door to the kitchen where they could speak privately while still preventing Krissy from leaving the room. Conveniently, there was only one way in and one way out of the kitchen, and they were standing in the middle of it.
"What did you want to talk about, Sammy?" Dean asked as he crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the nearby wall.
"I've been watching Krissy, and I've got a couple of theories about why she's been acting the way she has. It may also explain her disappearing act yesterday," Sam said, jumping right into what he'd wanted to discuss with his brother.
"And?"
"She's let her mask slip a couple of times. It's never been for long, and she's quickly put it back up, but it's been enough to give me an idea," Sam replied. "Every parent or authority figure Krissy has had in her life has died and left her behind - her mom, her dad, and even Victor. That's got to have had an effect on her. Plus, she'd not had anyone to hold her accountable for her actions since Victor died, and maybe not since Lee died."
Dean made a "go ahead" motion with his hand. He knew his brother well enough to know that Sam was about to start into a long winded explanation of his observations and thoughts. "Get to the point."
Sighing at his brother's impatience, Sam frowned a second before continuing. "Hear me out. I think she's copped that attitude she's been sporting to keep anyone from getting close to her. If she doesn't let anyone get close, it won't hurt when they leave her. And, when she took off from the diner and was shoplifting, I think she wanted to find out what we'd do - if we'd actually go after her and reign her in. It all goes back to the fact that she's been left on her own. In a sense, we even abandoned her last year when we left her at Victor's."
Dean ran his hand over his face and thought about what Sam had just said. "Makes sense," he said after a moment. "We're just going to have to find a way to convince her that we don't plan on going anywhere any time soon."
"That's all well and good, Dean," Sam continued. "But I'm sure her mom or dad didn't intend to die and leave her. Victor was so obsessed with the idea of his new army of trained hunters that he certainly didn't plan to die anytime soon. And if it hadn't been for us stumbling onto his plan, he might still be out there recruiting new soldiers for his army."
"I get what you're saying, Sammy. So, what do we do?"
Sam shrugged. "I don't know. Show her we don't plan on going anywhere. Give her structure, rules, and consistent consequences for breaking those rules," he said, recalling some of what he'd learned in his college psychology class. "We need to be patient with her."
"Are you saying I shouldn't bust her ass for her disappearing act yesterday and that attitude she's been treating us to?" Dean unconsciously moved into an alert stance, ready to argue with his brother.
"No, that's not what I'm saying at all," Sam quickly responded. "She deserves to have her ass busted. In fact, I'm pretty sure she's expecting it. No, what I'm saying is that we can't expect her to change overnight. We're going to have to be patient with her while she learns that we aren't going to just abandon her when things get tough."
Dean relaxed slightly. "Okay, Sammy. I get it. Now, let's go discuss it with our little juvenile delinquent."
As both men walked into the kitchen, Krissy looked up from the skillet she was scrubbing. She glared at them briefly before turning her attention back to what she was doing. Sam shrugged and moved to take a seat at the table while Dean moved to the counter to start another pot of coffee.
He turned to grab his coffee mug, but realized Krissy had already washed it. "Sammy?" he asked as he grabbed one of the mugs turned up to dry in the dish drainer.
"Hey, I just washed that!" Krissy said as she made a grab for the mug.
Dean held it out of her reach and smirked. "A little life tip, kiddo - don't get between a man and his coffee. Don't worry, I'll wash it when I'm finished." He turned his attention back to Sam to see his brother's response to his unspoken question.
"Yeah, I'll take another cup," Sam responded as he shifted in his seat at the table to watch the interaction between Dean and Krissy.
The room was silent for a few minutes. Once the coffee had finished brewing Dean poured two mugs and returned to sit at the table beside Sam. "Finish up and then come join us," he instructed Krissy as he walked past her. "Grab yourself another cup of coffee if you want."
It took her only a few minutes longer to finish the dishes. She poured herself another mug of coffee and carried it with her to the table. She really didn't want it, but figured it would help steady her nerves by keeping her hands occupied. As she neared the table, Dean gestured for her to take a seat across the table from him and Sam.
They sat in silence for a moment as the brothers studied her. Krissy felt like a bug under a magnifying glass. She took a sip of her coffee to steady her nerves and demanded, "what?"
"Okay," Dean said as he, too, took a sip of his coffee. "I'm going to just jump into this. I'm not going to sugarcoat it." He leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest. "Sammy and I both told you yesterday, and I'm telling you again. And, I'm going to keep telling you until you get it through your thick skull. You are here because we want you here - not because we made a promise to Jody, not because you're a hunter's kid - because we want you here. Got it?"
"Yeah, I got it," Krissy said in a snide voice. She could hear the truth in his voice, but she still had a hard time accepting it.
"Say it," Dean instructed.
"It," she replied.
"Really? You're going to pull an attitude right now?" Dean asked, eyeing her hard. "Repeat after me. I am here . . ."
"I am here."
"Because Dean and Sam want me here."
"Because Dean and Sam want me here," she parroted in a sing-song voice.
"Say it again," Dean ordered.
"I am here because Dean and Sam want me here."
"Again."
"I am here because Dean and Sam want me here."
Dean nodded in approval. "You tell yourself that anytime you have any doubts about why you are here and whether or not we want you here. Got it?"
"Yeah," Krissy tried to make her voice sound bored, but deep down she was touched that Dean would make the effort. She still wasn't sure she could believe him, but the doubts were starting to fade.
"Excuse me?" Dean said, tilting his head as if he hadn't been able to hear what she'd said.
"Yes, sir," Krissy responded, barely resisting the urge to salute him.
Dean nodded his approval at her statement. "Now that we have that out of the way," he continued as though it were perfectly reasonable to move on to the next order of business, "About you hunting," he said as he held up a hand to forestall Krissy's reaction. "I know I don't have to tell you that your dad didn't want you to become a hunter. He wanted more for you than this life. I also know that before he died, Victor was training you to join his hunter army."
Krissy once again started to say something, but she remained silent when Dean shook his head. He wasn't finished speaking, and he wasn't going to let her interrupt him.
"Sam and I can see you're determined to hunt, despite what your dad wanted. As much as we'd prefer otherwise, there's not much we can do to stop you. Even if we forbid you to do it while you're here, one day you're going to leave here. We can't control what you do then. What we can do, though, is make sure you're properly trained and prepared for what this life entails. We don't know what, if anything your dad taught you, but I get the impression that Victor was leaving a lot out of your hunter training."
"Hunting isn't just staking vampires," Sam said, picking up the thread of the conversation. "It involves knowledge of fighting techniques and lore, it involves strength, and most importantly, it involves self discipline. Dean will work with you on your weapons skills and fighting techniques, and I will be teaching you lore and how to research." Sam frowned at the grin that crossed Krissy's face at his announcement. "We'll both be helping you learn self discipline."
Sam sat forward to cross his arms on the table. He wanted Krissy to understand just how serious he was on this topic. "You'll do well to remember that us training you to hunt and, eventually, taking you on hunts with us is a privilege, not a right. Dean and I can take it away from you just as easily as we're giving it to you. So, I suggest you learn to obey the rules we set out for you."
Krissy frowned at his statement, but wisely chose to remain silent - at least for the moment.
"Speaking of the rules," Dean said before taking a sip from his coffee cup. "We need to discuss the rules you're going to be living by while you're here." He placed his coffee mug on the table and propped his elbow on the table, holding his hand up in preparation for ticking off the rules as he announced them. "No lying. You're to be honest with us at all times," he said as he held up his index finger. "You do as you're told, when you're told. That applies not only to when and if we take you hunting, but to your life here in the bunker." He raised a second finger. "We need to know that we can trust you to follow orders when it counts the most." He held up a third finger. "No illegal drugs or alcohol. Period. There are no exceptions to that rule until you turn twenty-one. And," he held up a fourth finger, "when you've earned our trust enough to be allowed to leave the bunker, you will tell us where you're going, who you're going with, and when you will be back." He stopped to consider his words before continuing, "and you'll have a curfew. We'll figure that out when the time comes."
"And you'll be returning to school," Sam said. "That's not negotiable," he commented when he saw that Krissy was about to interrupt. "Your education is important. There's more to life than being a hunter, and getting a good education is part of that. As I told you yesterday, you will be going back to school, and you will be expected to maintain good grades," Sam emphasized. "Any hunting training you receive will be secondary to your education. If you don't maintain your grades, you will lose the privilege of hunting training. Do you understand what I am saying to you?" he asked.
"Do I get a say in this?" Krissy asked, completely ignoring Sam's question. She was unhappy about what she was hearing and thought it was incredibly unfair.
"No," Dean answered shortly.
"That's not fair," she protested.
"Life's not fair," Dean countered. "So you might as well just suck it up. You want to learn to hunt, you follow the rules and you get good grades. That's the way it works. Even if you decide you don't want to hunt, you'll still be expected to follow the rules and get good grades."
"If you think any of our rules are unreasonable, we'll listen to any well-reasoned argument you want to present to us," Sam said. He'd been watching her face during her exchange with Dean and had seen the moment her face settled into its mutinous expression. He'd hoped to head off some of the argument he figured was starting to brew. "But throwing a temper tantrum like a two year old won't get you anywhere but into trouble."
Krissy just snorted and sat back in her chair. She really didn't like the direction this conversation was going. She'd liked the idea that they were going to train her as a hunter, but the fact they made it contingent on her obeying their dumbass rules and going back to school sucked. She started to get up from her chair with the intention of storming out of the room.
"Sit your ass back down. We aren't finished yet," Dean ordered. "We still have to talk about your little disappearing act yesterday, not to mention your attempts at helping yourself to a five finger discount."
Krissy shrugged. "I really wasn't going to steal that stuff. I was going to put it all back."
"Really?" Dean said, not bothering to hide the skepticism in his voice. "You were just practicing shoplifting. You really expect me to believe that?"
"Yeah."
"Practicing or not," Sam cut in, "it was still shoplifting, and you're old enough and smart enough to know better." He paused to take a deep breath to calm his temper. It wouldn't help anything if he let loose with the anger he was feeling at the memory of Krissy's actions the day before. He decided that now was as good a time as any to voice the theory he'd developed. "Correct me if I'm wrong, Krissy, but I think you took off yesterday and tried to shoplift just to see what we'd do about it. You wanted to see if we'd come after you and hold you accountable for your actions." He repeated part of the theory he'd explained to Dean only a few minutes before.
Krissy squirmed in her seat under Sam's steady gaze. He was hitting a little too close to home for her comfort.
When the teenager remained silent Sam nodded. "That's what I thought. Your life during the last year or so has been vastly different than it was before. I can't help but believe Dean and I made a mistake in leaving you at Victor's rather than taking you to your aunt. You weren't, and still aren't, mature enough to be left on your own. Your behavior yesterday proved that."
"And you're going to learn now that your actions have consequences," Dean said. "Is there anything you have to say in your defense?"
As much as she wanted to be the tough, "couldn't care less" person she tried to portray herself as, in that moment she felt like the emotionally vulnerable fifteen year old girl she was, and she hated herself because of it. In that moment, she knew deep down that the Winchester brothers had been right in their assessment of her. She also knew she deserved the punishment she was going to be receiving. Her dad would have already worn her out if she'd pulled the same kind of stuff with him. But, she was having a hard time accepting that realization.
"Okay," Dean said as he leaned back in his chair, taking her silence to mean that she had nothing further to say. "I think we've talked about this enough. Krissy, do you understand what you did, and why I'm going to punish you for it?"
"Yes," she responded quietly.
"Try that again."
"Yes, sir."
"Tell me," he ordered.
Krissy sighed heavily. Her dad would do this when he punished her, and she hated it. "Because I ran off from the diner yesterday and tried to shoplift stuff from that store," she responded as she studied the now empty coffee mug in her hands.
"And?"
"And what?" she asked, somewhat confused.
"There's another reason you're being punished, too," Dean stated.
Krissy narrowed her eyes and shook her head in confusion. She wasn't sure what Dean had been alluding to.
Sam cleared his throat, drawing her attention to him. "What did we discuss earlier?"
Krissy blushed as realization hit. "My attitude," she responded.
Dean nodded in acceptance of her list of transgressions. "Go to your room and wait for me. I'll be there in a few minutes. And, Krissy," he said in a warning tone, "do yourself a favor. Don't make me have to come looking for you."
Dean watched as Krissy rose from the table and practically ran from the kitchen. He really hoped she was going to her bedroom as she'd been ordered and not to hide somewhere in the bunker - or, even worse, try to leave. He picked up the coffee mugs the two of them had used and carried them to the sink to wash them.
"Dammit," he said when he reached the sink and placed the mugs in the basin.
"What?" Sam asked, a little surprised by his brother's exclamation. He tossed back the last of his coffee and reached around Dean to put his own mug in the sink to be washed.
"She washed my cast iron skillet."
"Really?" Sam was a little amused. He smiled as he remembered a time when Bobby had spent a good ten minutes yelling at Dean for doing the same thing once when they were younger. The older man had threatened to take a wooden spoon to Dean's backside if he ever did it again. "I hope you aren't going to add that to the list of reasons you're going to spank her."
Dean turned and glared at his brother. "No, I'm not. But, she's going to season it for me again."
Sam gave a short bark of laughter as he turned to leave the kitchen. "Good luck with that."
TBC