Five Years Later:
~•~•~•~•~
I was right, but that shouldn't surprise, really.
Why was I expecting? For them to stick around when my very image sends my father running for the hills?
No, not even in an alternate universe would that happen.
John losing Mary was painful. Having to see me every day was apparently a reminder, a painful task that he was unwilling to do.
I got over it, though. Eventually.
Continued on, finished high school a year later, graduated top of my class, became valedictorian, and got into Brown University. Studied math and computer sciences, and graduated a year ago before I went under the radar.
So far, only Uncle Bobby knows where I am because I told him, and specifically told him not to tell anyone of my location.
John and Dean have tried to search for me, but anytime they try, I always send them on a wide goose chase to God knows where. While they find it unamusing, I find it quite hilarious.
Sam contacted me a few times through social media, but there's only so much an impersonal question can do, and to be honest. The 'How are you?' can only go so far.
I answered in short responses, thinking everything was fine until Dean called me one night.
'Dad's missing.'
It was still resounding in my head as I sat there waiting for both Dean and Sam to arrive.
He'd been missing for a week. Not a clue or word to lead them.His last known location was supposedly in California, which is why Sam and Dean got together, but they ran into a few bumps on the road and needed me to help them.
So, here I was, waiting at a gas station at seven at night in the small town of Hobbs, New Mexico. Close to home but not quite. I liked my new home. It was quiet. Low crime rate. Gun carrying was permitted, and best of all, I had peace of mind.
It sucked that I had to leave everyone. But what was I supposed to do? Pretend that everything was alright? That would be a normal response if I was normal. I sighed, rubbing a hand over my face as I leaned against the wall at the side of the gasoline station.
I saw the familiar sleek, black 1967 Chevrolet Impala. Looking as new as when John bought it.Dean pulls the Impala to a stop, shuts off the engine before exiting the car, and rushes to pull me into a hug.
"Si," He breathes as he pulls me into a tight hug. "You look… different." He mumbled.
I snorted in response, hugging him back as Sam grabbed my duffle bag and took it to the back. "It's been five years, dummy." I mumbled.
"I know. That doesn't mean we didn't miss ya." He mumbled as Sam pulled me out of Dean's grasp and into his chest. "You've gotten taller." He notes.
"That tends to happen as time passes." I quip as I hug him back. "How's Jess?" I asked, pulling back.
He swallows hard and shakes his head.
Dean shakes his head too, "Demon got her. Did-- Did the same thing it did with mom." He informed me.
I gap, as I hug Sam tighter, "We'll get the son-of-a- bitch, Sammy." I promised, angrily.
They nodded before looking over at the small shop. Sam gives me a small smile before tilting his head. "You still like to drink Code Red and get sour gummy worms when you watch horror movies?" He asks, amused.
"At this point it's a crime not to…" I snipped amused.
"Come on, let's get some snacks for the road and I'll tell you what we know so far." He tells me.
~•~•~•~•~
We buy a few bags worth of snacks before making our way back to the Impala.
I then learn that Dean was the one who had last heard from John and that he was on a different hunt when he realized he hadn't heard from him in a while.
"So, John was last heard following a lead to where?" I asked as I pulled out my laptop from my bag.
"Jericho." Dean says.
I nod, "You must have something else if that look you're giving me is anything to go by." I prompt.
He nods and hands me the paper.
35, 111.
"Where did he leave this, Dean?" I asked as I began searching for anything that could connect to be this number only to come out empty handed, at first.
That is, before a thought occurs to me.
"They're coordinates." I whispered in realization.
"We figured that. We just wanted to be sure. Where is it leading to, Si?" He asks.
I sigh, before typing in those coordinates into my computer. "35 degrees north latitude, 111 degrees west longitude." I mumbled.
"Colorado." Dean says.
Nope. That is not Colorado, it's way off from the coordinates that I'm receiving.
"Arizona." I corrected.
Sam frowns. "I checked the map, it said Colorado." He told me.
I shook my head, "Look closely at this, Sammy." I say as I turn my computer for him to see what I am seeing.
"No way!" He gasps.
"The place is Arizona… very close to Meteor Crater; the nearest town is Winslow." I inform them, flatly.
"Well, this just got interesting." Dean says as he exchanges looks with Sam.
"What happened there?" I asked.Dean turned to look forward, driving as I logged into a surveillance module and typed in John's number, the one he had given me to keep in contact. The one I knew he still carried because he wanted to check on me.
The red dot showed he was moving in the direction of East New Jersey.
'What are you up to, dad?' I thought frowning.
"Our dad and I looked up a few things in the last few years. We followed a case to Arizona but it went cold. The Wendigo. Supposedly, it's supposed to be all a folk lore but this was… brutal, at best." He informed us.
"I see, and he never bothered to tell you two about all the shit that is roaming out there? Did he just throw you two into this shitty life?" I asked, frowning.
Dean shook his head, "For the most part we were left alone in hotels, checked into schools for a week or two before moving on. He taught me once I was older about hunting. You're not the only person Bobby trained. He trained us too." He told me.
A sudden thought occured to me as he told me this.
I frowned, "Is this what you meant by normalcy? That you two got the worst part of it by having to live like this? On junk food? Basically fending off for yourselves? Seeing shit you weren't supposed to?" I asked, in disbelief.
Sam jutted his head once, in acknowledgement, from his seat before reaching back and pulling my laptop in his direction, so he could see it.
"We went through a lot. I figured at least you have some form of stability with Bobby 'round ya." He told me.
"In a way … I did. But-- he would leave some times for weeks with Rufus too. Hunts. Wouldn't come home for days on end. Sheriff Rhodes and a lot of folk know me pretty well back home, got a lot of parental figures." I told them, quietly.
Sam frowned, "What? But he told dad that he never…"
"Yeah, once I turned twelve, that changed. It's alright. He wasn't as negligent as John probably was with you two. Left food for me. Taught me how to cook, and fend for myself. Fight. Trained me to protect myself. Hell, I probably know more shit than you two. Doesn't mean I didn't miss you two like crazy. Or-- or Joh-- I mean, Dad. Don't take the feeling of abandonment, or the hurt it caused me from being left behind each time over the years." I told them, thickly.
"Si… " Sam said.
"I'm okay, now. I learned, quiet a lot. Studied a few things a while back as a -- a distraction." I shrugged. "Psychology, literature, along with a few other things, that aren't worth mentioning…" I shrugged looking away.
"Kept me sane and gave me good coping healthy mechanisms, I guess." I told them.
Dean scoffed, "Psychology, so what, you can mess with someone's mind now?" He asked, frowning.
"I have always been able to mess with the feeble minded. This just gives me more depth to mess with." I deadpanned, watching as they exchanged nervous looks before nodding in response to something.
"So, what do you think is happening?" Dean asked, curiously.
"He's hiding from us." I told them, honestly.
They frowned, "Why?" Sam asked.
"How do you know?" Dean asked, suspiciously.
I sighed, "Because I looked him up right now..." I informed them.
"How? He gave me all of his burners." Dean informed me.
I shrugged, "We all have our own ways of doing things." I replied shrugging.
Dean shook his head, "Nuh, uh, what are you hiding from us?" He all but demanded.
I sighed, looking down at my hands before looking at them, "I can feel and read the minds of a person by just thinking about them…" I informed them.
Dean scoffed a laugh, "So, what you… you can do mind tricks?" He asked.
I shrugged, "More or less. Uncle Bobby helped me gain control of it when I was fifteen." I replied.
They frowned, "Why didn't he tell us anything?" Sam asked.
I sighed, as I closed the laptop, setting it down next to me on the seat, and turned to look out the window. "Our dad knew. It's why he was always checking in… he wanted to make sure that I was okay... to an extent." I quietly told them.
"Interesting." Dean mumbled as he stared at the road with an angry expression on his face.
"Yeah." I mumbled, as I leaned my head back and closed my eyes, in a poor attempt to stop the conversation, but it failed.
"So, how's life in a small town?" Sam asked curiously.
I smiled, "Interesting for the most part." I mumbled evasively.
"So, you haven't had any types of encounters?" Sam asked curiously.
"I didn't say that." I sighed, ipe ing my eyes to find him staring at me.
"So, what is it like?" Dean asked.
"Well, I learned how to protect myself accordingly from humans and other entities... I also know a lot about defending against demons and other attacks. Those tattoos you got on your chests? I had to get it, too. It just so happens that becoming a meatsuit isn't on my bucket list." I deadpanned.
Dean chuckled nervously as he drove in the directions of the coordinates.
"Good to know." Sam replied.
I hummed in response before leaning back and closing my eyes again.