"Garth needs our help."
Sam stood in Liz's doorway, knowing Dean and Bobby were waiting downstairs.
"With a case?" Liz frowned with Mary on her hip.
It had been a several months since their first date and, during that time, Sam had been able to find ways for Dean to hunt with Bobby or another hunter. He spent his days doing research and answering Bobby's 'law enforcement' phones, watching Mary while Liz worked at the drugstore and did homework - she'd decided to go back to school and found a way to do it online.
He frowned. "It's an all-hands-on-deck situation."
She nodded. "Well, then, I guess you have no choice."
He leaned down and pressed his lips to Mary's head. It hurt him not to take her from her mother as he would normally. He then turned to Liz and cupped her face in his hands, kissing her deeply.
With her free hand, she grasped his shirt while she returned the kiss. When he pulled back, she grabbed his chin in her hand, keeping him from straightening. Looking into his eyes with some intensity, she commanded in whisper. "You come back."
He nodded, despite her hand on his chin. "I will."
"And bring that pain-in-the-ass uncle and grandpa with you."
He smiled. "Yes, ma'am."
She pressed her lips to his again. Then she stepped back and looked at her daughter. "Say 'see you later, Daddy'," she instructed the baby, taking her little hand and waving it.
Sam touched Mary again, then, turned and walked down the stairs. When he got to the bottom, he turned to look back and found the door closing. He nodded and walked out to the waiting Impala.
"How'd she take it?" Dean asked when he closed the door.
Sam nodded. "As one would expect a hunter to take it."
Dean's eyebrows rose. "Really?"
"What? She was raised in The Life like we were."
"But I'm sure she thought you were done with it."
Sam frowned at his brother. "I've never been done with it, Dean. I'm in it everyday." Sam looked forward. "Can you just drive?"
Dean looked at his brother, seeing the muscles in his jaw working, then frowned deeply and put the car in drive.
#
Liz was sitting at Bobby's kitchen table with Mary on her lap, reading a lore book instead of the assignment sitting on her laptop on the other side of the table, when one of the six phones on his wall rang. She picked it up and looked at the card taped above it.
"Federal Bureau of Investigation, Tom Willis' office, this is Lizbeth." She listened and nodded. "Special Agent Willis is out of the office at present. May I take a message?" She paused and smiled. "Oh, I can answer that question, Sheriff. Agent Bonham was instructed to investigate your case at…" she looked up in the air. "Fifteen forty yesterday." Then she looked at her watch. "Must've taken him a while to get there… Absolutely. I'll have Special Agent Willis call you when he returns - though it may not be today. Can I have your number?" She paused, looking for the teething ring in her bag. "3847? Got it. And the Federal Bureau of Investigation appreciates your assistance in this matter. Have a nice day."
She hung up the phone and continued to look for the teething ring. Finding it, she stood and put Mary in the playpen that was set up in Bobby's kitchen. As she straightened and turned, Bobby's front door burst open.
Bobby was the first in and made eye contact with her - but only with one eye as the other was swollen shut. "Get bandages! Clean water and my medkit!"
Liz didn't hesitate - years of training had taught her to move quickly. She moved further into the kitchen and pulled out a soup pot, setting it in the sink to fill with water as she moved to the bathroom at the back of the house where Bobby kept his medical supplies. She grabbed towels, bandages, and the kit and rushed back to the kitchen.
Dean met her there - his face bruised and scraped and his fist bracing his side.
"You're hurt!" she accused.
"Sammy's worse."
An icy claw reached into her chest and grabbed her heart, but she simply nodded, handed him the bandages and the medkit, while she grabbed the pot of hot water. She carried it from the kitchen to the study where Sam was lying on the couch.
Bobby had opened his button-down and was trying to use the scissors from the medical kit to cut open Sam's t-shirt with his left hand.
Sam's eyes were dark when they look up at Liz. He smiled and whispered her name. His eyebrows came together. "Where's Mary?"
"In the playpen. Lie still," Liz frowned as she set the pot of water next to where Bobby sat. "How can I help?"
Bobby looked at her. "We're gonna have to clean it and I'm gonna have to dig out the bullet, then sew him up."
She looked down at Sam, then saw Bobby's right hand. "Bobby, move." She commanded.
"What?"
"Get up!"
When Bobby stood, she move the chair and went to Sam. "Sam, honey, I'm gonna need to you to move."
Sam laughed, then winced. "I was kind of hoping I wouldn't have to do that again."
"I just need you to move your head to the other end of the couch. Your wound is toward the back of couch and, while I can reach it, it'll be easier and less painful if you can move." She offered her hand to him.
"Let me," Dean moved to approach.
"If either of you move any closer, I'm going to get the gun out of the medical kit," she snapped. "And I'll be removing three bullets instead of just one."
Sam took her hand and allowed her to pull him into a sitting position, groaning deeply, then pivot and lay back down.
"Good," she smiled. "Now. Don't move anymore."
"Wasn't planning on it," Sam groaned.
She kneeled on the floor next to him, finished cutting his shirt and grabbed a towel, dipped it into the water pot. She looked at Sam and he smiled at her, placing his hand on her shoulder. She nodded and began to wipe the blood away from his abdomen as lightly as she could.
Bobby sat in the chair he'd been sitting in before and began to pull supplies for bullet removal out of the medkit. He pulled out a long, thin rod and handed it to Dean. "Take this to the stove, turn on the burner, and stick this in the fire."
Once Liz had cleaned most of the blood from Sam's side and could clearly see the entry wound, she looked at Bobby, who handed her the bottle of isopropyl alcohol, which she poured over the wound, causing Sam to grunt.
"I'm sorry," she whispered, then handed the bottle back to Bobby, who handed her the forceps. She paused. "You don't have any ether or chloroform?"
"If you can't do this—"
"Screw you, old man! I can do it!" She took a deep breath and continued with a calmer tone. "But if he's fully conscious and can feel all of this, he may flinch and do more damage."
"Liz," Sam said, through gritted teeth, moving the hand on her shoulder to touch her cheek. "Just do it," he said, nodding. "I'll be fine."
She nodded and took a deep breath. "You know it doesn't seem fair," she said to him. "You hold my hands during labor to ease my pain, and now I can't give you mine." She looked at him and he smiled through the pain.
When he nodded again, she put the forceps into the wound and focused on keeping it straight, so as to not cause anymore damage - knowing he could feel it. She found the bullet and used the forceps to grasp it. He grunted when she began to pull the bullet out, but she didn't look away from the task at hand, keeping a steady pace. When it came out, she looked at it to make sure it was in one piece and frowned that it was silver. She handed the forceps with the bullet back to Bobby, who gave her another towel, which she used to apply pressure.
"That wasn't too bad, was it?" she smiled at him. He was looking very pale as he smiled tightly and nodded at her.
She'd been aware of a shadow looming over her before, but hadn't said anything, but now she snapped. "Dean, sit down before you fall down!" she growled over her shoulder. "You're too damned big for me to pick you up and Bobby's hand is all messed up."
Dean frowned at her, then moved to the chair behind Bobby's desk.
She looked at the wound under the towel and the bleeding didn't seem to indicate a nicked blood vessel. She looked back at Bobby. "Needle and thread time," she nodded.
He nodded and handed them to her.
She looked at Sam, whose eyes were closing. "Sam?" she whispered. "Still with me?"
His eyes opened slightly and he smiled at her.
She nodded and swallowed. "Okay." She winced when he grunted as the needle entered his skin. She focused on making the stitches as small and tidy as she could while doing the job of closing the wound. When she finished, she looked at him.
His eyes were closed.
"Sam?" She put her hand on his chest as the other reached for his carotid to feel for a pulse, but before she could get there, his hand covered hers on his chest. She released a breath she didn't know she'd been holding. "I'm just going to put a bandage on this and you're done. Try to sleep."
She looked at Bobby, who handed her a bandage and tape. After she taped up Sam, she moved his shirts to see if there were any other injuries. Then she looked at his hands and face, but found no other signs of injury.
After washing her hands, she moved to Bobby and sat at his feet, taking his right hand in hers. "What were you thinking? You know you can't remove a bullet and stitch someone up with just your left hand!"
"Done it one-handed before."
"With your left hand?"
Bobby tilted his head. "Well, no," he admitted.
She cleaned and examined his hand. "This bone is broken," she said, touching the part of his hand that was swollen. "I'm gonna need a splint."
"Under the cabinet in the bathroom."
She nodded and moved into the kitchen, stopping to check on Mary, who was asleep, and turn off the stove holding the red-hot cauterizing rod.
She returned to the study to find that Dean and Bobby had broken open Bobby's rotgut. She walked over to Dean and snatched the cup from him. "Not until I get a chance to look you over."
He frowned at her. "Listen, Lady: I'm fine. Take care of Bobby and Sam."
"Sam's sleeping. All I can do for him is keep an eye on him. I'm going to finish Bobby's hand, look at his face, then I'm coming for you."
"In the meantime, I'm going to have a drink."
"Alcohol is a blood thinner, Jackass! If you're bleeding anywhere, drinking will make it worse. Just wait a few minutes more, then you can get drunk off your ass if you want. Hell, I might join you!"
"Dean," Bobby warned as Dean opened his mouth to respond.
The elder Winchester frowned at his surrogate father and sighed. "Fine."
She moved back to Bobby and finished bandaging Bobby's hand, then looked at his eye that was swollen. "That bone may be broken, too," she commented.
"Wouldn't be the first time."
Rolling her eyes, she moved to the kitchen and got a bag of peas from the freezer. She handed it to the older man. "Can't believe you still haven't invested in ice packs!"
Then she moved back to Dean. "Up!" she commanded. "And turn around."
"You're bossy when you think you're in charge of something," Dean grumbled, but did as he was told, grunting in the process. She reached up and took the collars of his jacket and flannel and pulled them down his arms as gently as she could.
Once he was in his t-shirt, she looked at his arms and hands - finding bruised and scuffed knuckles that told her he'd been in a fistfight, but no serious injuries. She grabbed the hem of his t-shirt and pulled it up.
"Hey!" he moved to pull away from her, but couldn't because the office chair and the fireplace prevented him. "As much as I enjoy a hot woman undressing me, you're dating my brother."
She smiled up at him. "Even if I wasn't, you'd have to keep dreamin', Romeo. I don't like your temper enough to try you out."
He frowned. "Ouch." He put his hand to his heart. "That hurt, Liz!"
She chuckled and lifted his t-shirt as she said. "You'll get over i—oh, Dean!"
His ribs were a deep purple on the left side. "Just a couple of broken ribs."
She glared at him. "That's all?" She began to press on his side, causing him to grunt and grab her wrist.
"Liz, I know what broken ribs feel like. Just stop."
She looked up at him with a deep frown. "Oh? Good! Do you know what a broken nose feels like? 'Cause if you keep fussin' at me I'm gonna punch you and you'll be left with Bobby's busted up hand to fix it!"
Bobby chuckled, and Dean frowned in his direction.
"Really, Bobby?" Dean growled.
"All I know is that I'm not bleeding internally, and she's not mad at me, so I'm going to enjoy my whiskey."
"Who said I'm not mad at you?" She snapped, pulling her hand from Dean's grasp and resuming her exploration of his abdomen.
Dean saw Bobby pause his whiskey, then look at them.
The older man shrugged. "Then I'm going to drink and pretend."
She straightened and looked at him, grabbing his chin and looking at the marks on his face. "Is this the only thing?"
"Yes."
She narrowed her eyes. "Would you tell me if it wasn't?"
His green eyes met her blue eyes. He sighed. "Yes, Liz."
She nodded and moved to retrieve a salve and bandages. "I know you're worried about him," she whispered as she rubbed the salve over his abs.
"That's cold!" he said.
"Yes. It'll help reduce the swelling. Bobby doesn't have anymore frozen vegetables." She lifted his arm, which made him grunt. Then she used his other hand, the one still holding his t-shirt up, to hold the end of the bandage, then she reached around him to wrap the bandage around him.
"Is that tight enough?" he frowned down at her as she completed the third time.
She paused and looked up at him. "You need to be able to take deep breaths, at least one time an hour - even if it hurts - to prevent pneumonia. So, yeah. Any tighter and you won't be able to breathe."
He nodded. "You say so, Doc."
She resumed what she was doing.
When she finished, she pulled his t-shirt down to cover him.
She reached into the medkit and pulled out antiseptic and a swab, then dabbed isopropyl alcohol on the scratches on his cheek. Finally, she reached on the desk and handed him the glass of whiskey she'd taken before. "If you start feeling light-headed or short of breath, let me know."
He shrugged. "That happens every time I'm around a pretty woman."
She rolled her eyes. She moved to the pot of water and immersed her hands in it. "So, what did you tangle with?"
Bobby and Dean exchanged looks.
Liz frowned. "You can tell me, or I can call Garth. Or I can beat it out of you." She dried her hands and stood, crossing her arms. "Neither of you would be much of a challenge in your current shape, so spill."
"Werewolves."
Liz swallowed. "A pack?"
"Yeah. Two of 'em. Fightin' over territory."
"And you thought it would be a good idea to get in the middle?! What was Garth thinking?!"
"His family was in danger," Dean said into his glass.
She looked at Dean, who waited for her to say something in criticism of this. Instead, she nodded. She went to the kitchen, checked again on Mary, got a glass, and another chair. She put the chair next to Sam's side, then moved to the whiskey bottle, pouring herself a generous serving. She offered to Bobby and Dean, both nodding their desire for more.
She sat down and cradled her glass in her hands and watched Sam breathe, fighting the feeling of her guts trembling now that the emergency was over.
#
Dean looked over at the playpen from the table in the kitchen when Mary started making sounds. He stood and looked over at Liz, who was sitting in the chair next to Sam.
She hadn't left Sam's side except to tend to Mary. Currently, she was asleep in her chair with her hand on Sam's bare shoulder.
Dean bent to pick up Mary, sucking in his breath as he bent.
Suddenly, Liz was next to him. "Sit down, Dean," she said, tiredly. "Before you poke one of those ribs into a lung."
"I thought you were asleep."
She scoffed, picking up her daughter. "Yeah, like that's gonna happen." She put Mary in her stroller and moved her over to the table where Dean was sitting again. Then she went to the counter and pulled out a bottle, mixing the formula with warmed water, and shook the bottle until it was well mixed. She handed the bottle to Dean, who'd brought Mary's stroller closer to him, and he held it to Mary's lips. The child of nearly six months placed her hands on the sides of the bottle as if to hold it and Dean supported it with one hand, watching Liz.
Liz returned to Sam's side and touched his forehead. She frowned. She moved to Mary's diaper bag as Dean watched and pulled out the forehead thermometer. She returned to Sam and held the thermometer to his forehead.
"What is it?"
"He has a fever," she said, lowly. She moved to the kitchen sink and grabbed a hand towel, running it under water.
"Isn't that thing for babies?" Dean frowned.
"It works the same on everyone," she said, her voice calm as she squeezed excess water out of the towel. She moved back to Sam and put the cloth on his forehead. She moved the blanket covering him and looked at the wound on his side.
She moved to Bobby's desk and picked up the bandages, ointment, and disinfectant. She sat next to him again, removed the bandage that covered his wound. She looked at the wound and touched it lightly.
Sam moaned.
"Sorry," she whispered. "But I have to check it." She re-applied the medicine and re-bandaged it. Then she stood and replaced the blanket over him. She lifted the towel briefly and pressed a kiss to his forehead, then replaced the towel.
Liz walked back into the kitchen to check on Mary's progress. "I think he has an infection. The wound looks fine, but it's warm to the touch and he has a fever."
Dean frowned. "Sam's strong. He'll be fine."
She looked at him. "You - both of you - have told me about this angel friend of yours. Castiel?"
Dean nodded.
"Maybe you should call him."
Dean shook his head. "He's in the middle of something."
"I don't care," Liz frowned. "Does he have the ability to heal Sam? Then call him! Tell him to get his ass down here!"
Dean frowned as Liz's voice became louder.
Mary stopped drinking to look up at her mother.
"Liz, you need to calm down."
"Don't freakin' tell me what I need, Dean! I need for Sam to get better! Now if you can't get Castiel to come, I'm taking him to the hospital!"
"You can't take him to the hospital!" Dean said. "Too many questions about bullet wounds." Dean looked past her. "Now, look: Sammy's been through worse. He'll work his way through it."
Liz's eyebrows furrowed together. "Why won't you call Castiel?!"
"Because I have tried already!" Dean shouted. "I called when Sammy got shot. I called on the way here. While you were stitchin' him up! How could you think I haven't tried?!"
Mary started to cry, and Liz frowned at Dean, picking up her daughter. She whispered words of consolation, but Mary wouldn't be consoled.
Bobby came in, then. "Give her to me, Lizzy. You're never gonna get her calmed down while you're so upset."
Liz looked at him, looking pointedly at his hand as she lightly bounced her daughter.
"For cryin' out loud, I can hold my granddaughter with a gimp hand!" Bobby groused. "You need a time out. Go out and get some air."
Liz nodded and handed Mary to Bobby. She glared at Dean, then walked out of the house.
Dean watched her walk down the stairs and move to behind the first couple of cars that were there. He saw her stop and bow her head, putting her hands to her face. He looked at Bobby, who was now occupied with a giggling Mary, and walked out after her.
When he reached the car, he heard her talking and paused.
"—you don't know me, Castiel, but you know Sam. He's hurt and might be—Dean says he's reached out to you, but you haven't responded. And I don't get it! If you love these men half as much as I do… Do angels have families? Do you think of Dean and Sam as family? If you do, how do you stay away when they need you?" She sniffed. "If you can hear me, Castiel, please!" She sobbed and whispered. "Please, help us!"
Dean moved closer to her. "That goes for me, too, Cas!" he said, gruffly, putting his hand on her shoulder.
She gasped and turned to Dean and buried her face into his chest with a sob, grabbing his shirt with both fists.
He put his arms around her and pulled her tightly against him, ignoring the pain in his side when she moved into him.
"I'm sorry," her whisper was muffled.
"Don't," he growled. "Don't you ever apologize for carin' about my brother."
She sniffed.
"Dean!"
Bobby's shout pulled them apart, and they ran to the house.
They entered the house to find Bobby and Mary looking into the study.
Liz saw a man with dark hair and a trench coat standing over Sam. She stepped toward him defensively, but stopped when she heard Dean.
"Cas?"
The man reached forward and touched Sam's forehead.
After a moment, Sam took a deep breath and blinked a couple of times before frowning up at the man, who was removing his hand from his forehead. "Cas?" Sam frowned.
"Your wound is healed," Castiel responded. He turned to see Liz and Dean. He looked past Liz to Dean. "I can heal yours and Bobby's as well."
"Cas, where have you been?!" Dean asked.
"There are things I've needed to attend to," he looked down at Sam who was sitting up. "I regret that I couldn't come sooner."
Liz moved past Castiel to Sam's side, kneeling in front of him, touching his forehead and looking into his eyes. "Sam?"
He nodded. "I'm okay."
She turned to look at Castiel. "Thank you," she said, lowly.
The blue-eyed angel nodded. He walked over to Bobby and gently touched his forehead.
Mary reached for him, leaning almost out of Bobby's hands.
"Mary!" Bobby protested.
Castiel took the child and stoically curled her into his arms, where she chattered happily. Then he walked to Dean and touched Dean's forehead. Then he looked down at Mary. "This is the child Sam spoke about."
Liz stood as Sam said. "Yeah, Cas. That's Mary. This is Lizbeth Quinlan."
Cas nodded and looked at Liz. "She is quite healthy and shares your relief at my arrival." He tilted his chin downward, focusing totally on Liz. "I am sorry I couldn't come sooner."
Liz tilted her head. "Mary reached for you?"
Castiel looked at the child in his arms, happily chewing on her fist while grasping his lapel. "Yes."
She nodded, looking from Mary to Castiel and back. Sam took her hand and she glanced down at him. She swallowed. "If you'll excuse me," she said, walking out of the room and back out of the house again.
Cas frowned and looked at Dean, who was frowning at him.
"You couldn't even pick up the damned phone, Cas?!" Dean growled.
"Where did Liz go?" Sam asked, standing.
"Give her some time, son," Bobby said. "You gave us a scare."
Sam's eyebrows drew together, but he nodded.
"I was not where cell phones would be useful, Dean," Cas explained. "I came as soon as I could."
Dean nodded. "Are you okay?"
Cas nodded. "Things are progressing."
"What does that mean?"
"It means that things are progressing, Dean. That's all I can tell you right now." He moved to Mary's play pen and cradled her head as he put her down, handing her a teething ring, then touching her dark curls. "I can't stay. I will come back when I can."
With that, he disappeared, leaving the Winchesters and Bobby stunned, as always. Bobby looked at Dean. "Is he ever going to learn about manners? Jeez!" he turned away and moved into the kitchen, even as Dean returned to where he'd been sitting.
Sam put his feet into his boots and walked to the door to look out. Liz was walking back in. He opened the door for her and pulled her into his arms.
She took a deep breath and hugged him tightly.
Together, they walked into the study and sat on the couch where he just held her for a while.
#
After dinner, Sam followed Liz into the study. "Are you okay?"
She nodded. "I'm fine."
He frowned. "You've been very quiet all afternoon."
She shrugged. "I guess."
He touched her shoulders, but she pulled away, hugging herself. "Liz?"
"Just…" she shook her head. "I've been thinking. The past few days have been a lot. And I need time to process."
Sam nodded. "I know it's been hard on you—"
She spun on him, eyes narrowed. "You have no idea what I went through."
Sam frowned and tilted his head. He straightened and nodded. "You know what? You're right." He approached her and touched her arms. He bent slightly, with his head tilted downward and his eyebrows up, catching her eyes. "So tell me."
She frowned deeply and pulled from him. "You come to me and tell me that my entire family - except for my daughter - has to leave. 'All hands on deck', you said. And I know I have the ability to help, but I can't leave my daughter, so I'm left behind. I'm not good at being that person, Sam! Sitting on my thumbs, waiting for you guys to come back? I was half out of my mind. And Mary could tell! She was fitful the entire time because I was!" She took a deep breath, trying to calm herself.
"Then you guys come back. All busted up. Dean can barely move, but won't sit down because you're so bad off. Bobby's busted up, same thing. And you…" She shook her head. "And then I find out that you're all hurt because you got involved in a wolf fight. My brother died because of werewolves, Sam!"
He opened his mouth to respond, but she cut him off with an index finger pointed his way and a look.
"But I don't say anything. All the anger and frustration of being left behind is replaced by the fear that you might not recover. Especially when the fever came." She could feel tears threatening her eyes and stopped, looking to the floor with her hands on her hips, taking a deep breath to try to steady herself.
Sam approached with his hands raised. "I'm okay, Liz," he said, lowly. "That's over."
Her head came up and her eyes flashed under furrowed eyebrows. "This time!" She stepped away from him again. "This time it's over! What about the next time?"
He frowned. "There's no way for us to know what the future holds, Liz!"
Her eyebrows rose, and she narrowed her eyes."Oh, but we can know one thing about the future when it comes to hunting, don't we, Sam?" She shook her head. "Believe me! A year and a half ago, I would have packed up and been in the thick of it, too. But now there's a kid who depends on me. I won't be one of those hunter-parents!"
Sam nodded. "Good!"
She stopped and looked at him.
"I'm glad you don't want to raise Mary in The Life," Sam continued. "I'm glad you got out."
She looked at him in silence, her arms hugging herself for a moment.
Sam could see that she was thinking and, suddenly, had an awful feeling in the pit of his stomach. "Liz?"
She licked her lips and swallowed hard, looking at the floor.
He took a step toward her, dread filling him, tilting his head to examine her face. "Liz, don—"
"I don't think we should keep seeing each other," she said, finally, looking at him.
He straightened. "What?"
"I can't. I can't be that woman who sits by the phone wondering everyday that my man walks out the door if he's coming home. That might make me a crappy person - or-or weak, but I-I can't do it. It's too hard. And I can't do that to my daughter."
"Liz—" he moved to her, but stopped when she backed away and shook her head.
"I'm sorry, Sam. I can't. If I'm going to take Mary out of The Life, I need to take her out of The Life," she turned on her heel and walked out of the room. She paused long enough to take Mary out of the playpen in the kitchen, then walked out the door without another word, as Dean and Bobby watched speechless.
Sam moved into the foyer as the other men did, stunned, and looked at Dean, who was frowning but his eyebrows rose when he saw his brother's face.
"Well, go after her, you idjit!" Bobby yelled.
"What?" Sam jumped.
They heard her car start.
"She loves you, you nit! She's runnin' out of fear. Go after her!"
"But, Bobby, she's not wrong!" Sam defended. "As long as I'm in The Life, there's a chance…"
"Then you get out," Dean growled.
Sam turned to look at his brother, surprised. "What?!"
"You got a kid, Sammy," Dean frowned. "And I know you feel that responsibility. You've been trying to walk the line, stayin' in it but not huntin'," he shook his head. "If you love her - love them - you gotta get out."
Sam looked from his brother to Bobby, who nodded.
"Go after her, son," Bobby said, putting his hand on Sam's shoulder. "Tell her you're willing to give it up. Tell her that you love her, too, and that you're willing." He shook his head. "You got a good thing with her and Mary - something a lot of people can only dream of - don't let it go."
Sam looked at Bobby, then to Dean, who nodded.
"Go, Sammy."
Sam swallowed, frowning deeply, then nodded. He held out his hand and Dean's mouth quirked up in one corner as he handed over the Impala keys.
#
Sam arrived at Liz's and rang the bell. He heard the speaker she rarely used to activate. During the drive, he'd vacillated between fear of losing her and anger at her running away and, as a result, his voice was gruff when he growled. "Liz! Let me in!"
The speaker deactivated without a word.
He pulled his wallet from his pocket and fished out the key she'd given him. He looked through the glass up the stairs as he struggled to unlock the door, then bound up the stairs as fast as his long legs would take him.
At the top, he knocked on the door. "Liz! I have a key! Let me in or I'll let myself in!" he shouted.
The door opened and Liz stood with her eyes flashing. "Mary's asleep!"
He moved past her, then turned to look at her. He bent slightly and raised a hand to indicate in her direction. "You don't get to run away from me, Liz!" he ground out, keeping his voice down. "It's not fair for you to tell me you don't want to see me anymore, then run." He straightened. "It's actually kind of cowardly," he said matter-of-factly, crossing his arms.
Her eyebrows rose, and she crossed her arms, tilting her chin downward. "Excuse me?"
He took a breath and relaxed his stance. "I understand that you think ending this is best, but you have to, at least, give me the chance to try and change your mind."
She shook her head. "I really don't see that happening, Sam," she said sadly. She walked from the door to the kitchen and began to fill the sink to wash dishes.
Sam frowned that she'd left the door open and closed it before following her. "I don't think you really want to end it," he said. "I think you're just so scared of being hurt - of being left behind - that you're using this as a defense mechanism."
She looked at him with narrowed eyes.
"And I get it!" he added with his hands raised. "When your folks died, it was just you and Sean. Then when he died, you were left alone. Then you met Jackson, but he left you and you were alone. Now, I hope you know I'd never willingly leave you, but you're afraid that I might die and, again, you'll be left alone."
She turned to turn off the water and began putting dishes and bottles in the hot, sudsy water.
"But, Liz," he stepped closer to her. "You'll never be alone again. Me, Bobby, Dean, we'll always be there for you. For Mary. Even if something happens to me, you'll still have them."
She shook her head, but didn't say anything.
"Besides, I'm not willing to let you go so easily," he said, crossing his arms and shaking his head. "I promised you that I wouldn't leave you and I meant it. So if you want me gone, you'll have to physically remove me." He tilted his head to look at her face.
She shook her head and tilted it away so as not to look at him.
He frowned deeply and reached for her only to have her pull her arm away. "Liz, don't you know what you mean to me? You're my family. You and Mary, Dean and Bobby, are my family and that means something! It would kill me to lose you." He could feel his emotions bubbling up to his eyes, but he didn't care. He stepped closer and moved Liz's hair from her shoulder. "Look at me," he commanded softly.
She sniffed and shook her head.
"Lizbeth, look at me." When she didn't, he reached in front of her and took her shoulders to physically turn her toward him.
She didn't resist, but she kept her head down.
His right hand cupped her jaw and lifted her head to look her in the eyes, which were red-rimmed and moist with unshed tears. Finally, close enough to see the evidence of earlier tears on her face, it gave him hope and he cleared his throat. "I need you to look into my eyes as I say this. I need you to understand what I'm saying is true. It's not something that I can say easily, but I need you to hear it."
She sniffed and swallowed, but didn't look away, touching his shirt with her still-wet fingers.
"I'm completely and utterly in love with you," he pronounced, clearly, his blue-green eyes filled with urgency. "And there is nothing in this world I would put before you and Mary. Nothing. If you cut me out, I don't know what I'll do, how I'll exist!" His voice caught in his throat. "Liz," he whispered. "Please believe me."
The tears she'd been holding back now spilled on to her cheeks as she saw his. She reached up and touched his cheek, using her thumb to wipe away the moisture from his face. "I do," she nodded. "I do believe you."
"Do you still want to end it?"
She shook her head. "I never wanted to walk away, Sam," she whispered. "But I don't know if I can do this wait-by-the-phone thing. It's too hard."
"Then I'll quit," he said.
She frowned and shook her head. "You can't quit. Dean needs you."
Sam nodded. "Yes, but so do you."
She shook her head again. "I could never ask you to choose between me and your brother, Sam."
"Good," he smiled. "But I can have my brother and not be a hunter."
"And what if he needs your help?"
His eyebrows rose, and he dipped his head again, looking into her eyes. "Would you really want me to say no?"
She smiled, then, and shook her head. "No. I'd probably help you pack. Then worry every second you're away."
Sam touched her face. "I can't lose you, Liz. You're too important to me. I'll fight even that much harder because I'll have you to come home to."
She moved in to wrap her arms around him and press her cheek to his chest.
He pulled her to him tightly, and rested his cheek on the top of her head.
They held each other, standing, silent, in the kitchen for a while. Finally, she sniffed and looked up at him. "Your shirt's wet," she said.
He smiled and dipped down to press his lips to hers. Her hand moved into his hair and she clung to him, kissing him back. He pulled back and looked at her, using his thumb to touch her cheek as her eyes fluttered open. Then he pressed his lips to hers again, enjoying her response to him.
This time she pulled from him and bit her lip, looking up at him as she unbuttoned his shirt. He rested his hands on her hips, as he looked down at her, first looking up at him, then at his shirt buttons. His right hand came up to move her hair off her shoulder, lightly touching her neck with his fingertips as she finished unbuttoning his shirt and pushed it off his shoulders.
Then she looked at him with mischief in her eyes. "I just wanted to be able to put this in the dryer for you," she smiled, holding his shirt.
Surprised, his eyes rose, and he smiled. "What?"
She grinned. "What?"
His hands went to her waist and lifted her up onto the counter next to the sink. "Oh, yeah? That's all you wanted?"
Now eye level to him, she bit her bottom lip. "Well… maybe not all I wanted, but I can't have you walkin' around with a wet shirt on."
He looked downward, shaking his head, then his eyes saw the sink full of soapy water next to her leg. "You're probably right. Sure-fire way to catch cold would be to walk around in wet clothes."
Liz nodded and opened her mouth to respond when he scooped a handful of water from the sink and poured it down her chest, causing her to jump and drop her jaw, gasping. With wide eyes, she looked down to see not only her shirt was soaked by her pants as well. Her eyes rose to see a very self-satisfied look on Sam's face.
So she scooped up a handful of water and threw it at him.
He jumped, but the water soaked his face and his t-shirt. Without hesitation, he pulled the shirt off, using it to dry his face, then moved to her, grasping her shirt and pulling it over her head. Then he captured her lips, kissing her deeply.
His head pulled back, and he arched his back as he felt the warm water flow down his spine and into his pants.
When he looked into her eyes again, she was grinning, rubbing her wet hands together.
Her grin was replaced by shock as he slid her off the counter and into the sink, causing her to yelp and arch out of it and into his arms, her entire backside wet. "There are glasses and bottles in there!" she admonished.
He tilted his head. "Oops," he grinned, looking down at her breasts as his hands touched her bare waist. "Isn't that wet, too?" he asked, referring to her bra.
She narrowed her eyes and pushed him away, walking out of the kitchen as he watched, following her out of the kitchen. She paused when she got to the hallway and looked back at him, smiling. "Are you coming?"
He smiled, walking slowly in her direction. "Is that an invitation?"
She shrugged. "All I know is that I'm going to need to help gettin' these jeans off… wet denim is a bi—" her words were cut off by him sweeping her up in his arms. She laughed as he carried her into her bedroom and closed the door behind them.
#
"So, how do you do it?"
Jody looked up from slathering butter on a biscuit and smiled at her friend. "Do what?"
Liz was giving Mary a teething ring while she sat in her stroller next to the table they shared at the local diner during lunch.
"Be sheriff and hunt?"
"Oh, that. I thought you were asking me about my biscuit buttering technique," Jody grinned.
Liz looked at her. "Really?"
Jody chuckled. "Okay, no. Not really." She took a deep breath. "Well, first of all, I don't do what the boys do: search for cases actively and criss-cross the country pursuing them." She put the biscuit down. "If I hear about something whack-a-doo in the area, I check it out. If I hear about something outside my area, I call another hunter."
Liz nodded. "Do you think I'm asking too much of Sam? He's spent his entire life - except for four years at college - on the road, hunting. Asking him to stay in one place, confined to one area, might be too much…" She looked down at her plate.
Jody smiled. "But did you ask that of Sam? Or did he volunteer it."
"He said he could not be a hunter, but it was after I told him we couldn't see each other anymore."
Jody smiled at the younger woman. "We all make sacrifices for the people we love. I gave up mushrooms for the entire time I was married, because my husband didn't like even the smell of mushrooms."
Liz leaned forward. "You're talking about food. I'm talking about a lifestyle."
Jody leaned forward to copy her friend. "My artichoke stuffed mushroom caps are a lifestyle."
Liz snorted and shook her head as Jody leaned back in her seat and took a bite of biscuit.
"He loves you," Jody said. "He's willing to give up The Life to keep you. That's his choice. He could have let you just walk away, but he didn't. And, if I know Sam, he won't."
"I just don't want him to give up the life he's always known and be unhappy."
"What's he talking about doing with his time?"
Liz smiled. "Get this: he was doing some maintenance jobs at the high school and was talking to the principal. He found out that he only has to take a couple of classes and a test to get his certification to teach!"
Jody's eyebrows rose and her eyes widened. "Teaching?" She smiled and nodded. "Yeah. I could see Sam as a teacher."
"The cool one, right?"
"Oh, yeah. I mean what teenager is going to give him a problem he hasn't handled with Dean?"
Liz laughed. "Exactly!" Then she leaned forward. "I told him he'd have students like Indiana Jones - writing 'I love you' on their eyelids."
Jody laughed. "I could just see his face."
"Right?! Question is, could he maintain focus and continue the lesson, ignoring it?" she grinned.
"Oh, I've seen him deal with Dean's disruptions and continue as if they didn't exist."
Liz nodded. "Yeah." She grinned. "I think he'd be pretty great, too." She looked at Mary and took a deep breath. "If it's what he wants."
Jody nodded, sobering. "And what if he wants to return to hunting?"
"How I can I deny him something, if it's what he really wants?" Liz took a deep breath. She looked at Jody and shook her head. "I don't know." She swallowed. "I believe that he loves me - loves us - and wants to do what's best for us..." She shrugged.
Jody frowned. "And how do you feel about him?"
Liz's eyebrows rose. "Well," she chuckled. "He's half of my heart," she shrugged, looking at Mary.
Jody smiled. "Have you told him?"
Liz frowned. "You don't think he knows?"
"You told me that he said 'the big L word' to you. Did you say it back?"
"Well, not in that moment -" She frowned. "—not exactly."
"And you don't think he'd want to hear that?"
Liz's eyebrows came together and climbed her forehead. "He's a hunter." She shook her head. "Hunters don't like mushy stuff."
Jody sat back and fingered her napkin. "And yet, he said it to you."
#
Liz was met at the door of her apartment by Sam, who took Mary and the diaper bag from her.
"How was lunch?" he asked, putting the diaper bag in its place on the table by the door and giving Mary a kiss on her temple. "Hi, there!" he whispered to her.
Mary grabbed his face and babbled happily.
He smiled at her. "Really? You had fun? Did Mommy?" He looked at Liz.
She nodded. "I always have a good time with Jody."
He nodded, but frowned. "But?"
Her eyebrows rose. She smiled. "I need to ask you something."
"Of course," he bounced Mary as they walked further into the apartment.
"A couple of months ago, when you said you loved me," she swallowed. "Did I say it back?"
Sam's eyebrows rose. "No," he looked at her.
"And that doesn't bother you?"
His eyebrows bounced. He smiled, then, and looked at Mary. "Listen, I need to talk to Mom, so we're going to…" he walked to the playpen. "Play quietly for a little while, okay?" He kissed her and put her down.
When he stood, he turned to Liz and took her arms in his hands, bending his knees and tilting his head to look at her. "Do you think I don't know how you feel?"
Liz tilted her head while she looked up at him. "But it doesn't bother you that I haven't said it?"
He smiled and straightened. "Hunters don't like mushy stuff, right?"
Her eyes widened, and she smiled. "Not usually."
He moved his hands to her jaw and took a step closer to her, moving her jaw upward as his tilted downward. "I know how you feel about me. You show me every day." As if to emphasis his point, he touched his lips to hers.
She touched his chest, pulling back, slightly. "Sam. Listen to me. I need to say this and for you to hear it."
He shook his head. "You don't—"
She reached up and touched his lips. "I do." She swallowed. "I do love you. You're half my heart." She felt the emotion rise in her throat. "And if I have ever given you reason to believe otherwise, I'm sorry."
He took her hand from his lips and kissed her fingertips. Then he looked into her eyes again. "I know. And you haven't. I've known how you feel about me longer than I've known how I feel about you, in fact."
She tilted her head, her eyebrows drawn together. "What?"
He smiled and shook his head. "That didn't sound right. I mean that I kind of felt that you had feelings for me when I was still trying to figure out what I was feeling for you."
Liz smiled and touched his abdomen. "And when did you think I might have feelings for you?"
He smiled. "Uhm… when you asked me go into the labor suite with you."
Her eyebrows rose. "Oh! Then you totally had feelings for me before that."
His eyebrows rose. "Did I?"
"Yup!"
"And what makes you think that?"
"You offered to put lotion on my back when I was stuck on bedrest."
"I remember that."
She grinned. "And you got all flustered when I took you up on it."
He shook his head and stepped back a step. "Flustered? As I recall, your shirt was almost entirely off at the time! I was trying to be polite."
Her eyebrows rose. "So you're saying I misread you and you weren't feeling anything for me at that time?"
He looked her up and down. "Well, yeah. I was and, frankly, I was feeling weird about it."
She frowned, tilting her head. "Weird?"
Sam smiled and tilted his head. "Well, I was feeling intense physical attraction to a very pregnant woman who was on bedrest."
Liz stood straighter and tilted her head, biting her lip. "Really?!"
He looked her up and down again. "Can you blame me? I mean, you're gorgeous. Even nine months pregnant." He touched her face again. "Even in labor." He leaned down and touched his lips to hers.
She touched his hand and kissed him back. "Well, if we're talking physical attraction, that was Day 1."
His eyebrows rose. "What?"
"You were so adorably nervous when you touched my belly to feel the baby kick. And I finally got a good look at those eyes and," she shrugged. "Yeah, there was definitely physical attraction."
He pulled her closer. "And now?"
She rose to her toes and put her hands on his shoulders as his hands pulled her closer. "You're hotter than ever," she smiled. "Because I know you love me."
He smiled at her. "And I know you love me."
Mary made a cooing sound from the playpen, and they looked toward her.
"And I love our child," Sam smiled. When he looked back at Liz, her smile was wide. His eyebrows rose.
"Do you know how insanely happy you make me every time you say that?"
Sam grinned. "And you make me insanely happy every day you allow me to be her father."
Liz touched his cheek again. "You have been since she was born. You will always be."
Sam pulled her close and captured her lips with his, taking his time kissing her deeply, moving his arms around her and cradling her head with his hand.
#
It was late. Mary was asleep across the hall and Liz was resting on Sam's chest with his arms wrapped around her.
"Sam," she whispered.
"Yeah?"
"If you want to keep hunting, I won't ask you to stop."
He lifted his head and looked down at her. "What?"
"I know your history and I know how you and Dean depend on each other. So, if…"
He rolled her onto her back and looked down at her. "Liz. I don't want to hunt full time anymore." He touched her cheek. "If Dean or Bobby need my help, I'm willing, but my life is here, with you."
"You won't miss the road?"
"Trashy motels, greasy-spoon food at all night diners? Oh, yeah. The best of all life has to offer, right there," he shook his head.
She smiled and touched his cheek. "I love you, Sam."
"I love you, too," he smiled just before he began kissing her.