Desperation and Deception
Okay everyone. As a warning, Ellie is going to be really naughty here and make some really bad choices resorting to some extreme and damaging behaviors in her desperation. Like I expressed before, the young traumatized girl has her 'issues'. Don't look for perfection in flawed characters, you'll likely be disappointed.
I wrote and edited this chapter rather fast so I could get it posted sooner, but I hope it's okay and you all enjoy it.
Please review! Keep me motivated, if you're enjoying it. It really helps me.
WARNINGS: There is self-induced vomiting, threats of corporal punishment (spanking), and swearing. If any of this bothers you, please don't read.
This is John Winchester. I can't be reached. If this is an emergency, call my son Dean, 866-907-3235. He can help. The beep of his father's voicemail sounded in Sam's ear as he sat on the edge of the firm mattress, his elbow resting on the side of his knee as he held his silver Treo cellphone to his ear.
"Hey, dad. It's Sam. Uh, you probably won't get this, but uh, it's Dean. He's sick and, uh, the doctors say there is nothing they can do. Um, but they don't know the things we know right? So, uh, don't worry cause I'm, uh, gonna do whatever it takes to get him better." Sam struggled to get through the message feeling a stress filled headache compress at his temples and across his bowline making him crinkle his forehead. Despite the man's impressive steady resolve and composure under the circumstances, the overbearing weight of intense urgency to save his brother's life was understandably taking its toll on the twenty-two-year-old and couldn't help, but to reach out to his father for aid and support in their time of need. Despite knowing he probably wouldn't even get the message; Sam was desperate enough to strain for a smidge of hope.
"Alright, just wanted you to know." Sam's voice quieted down into a hushed tone of deflated defeat feeling overcome with stress knowing he was going to be on his own on this one, like all the other times his dad failed to check his messages.
Sam pulled the silver cellphone from his ear and pressed the end call button before idly tossing it to the side onto the mattress by his thigh. Feeling the straining pressure tense the muscle fibers in his back and neck muscles, Sam brought his hand up to his mouth, curling his fingers towards him, and started to gnaw on the end of the short nail of his middle finger in stressful agitation fighting to keep his emotions reigned in. Sam scrunched up his face into grimace as he closed his eyes and gritted his teeth against the hard keratin of his short nail before sensing movement from the little girl in front of the wall across from him. Sam's eyes flicked opened catching a glimpse of Ellie's arms moving from her sides and disappearing in front of her as she dipped her head down and began to pick at the skin around her nails while absentmindedly fluttered her knees in fidgety restlessness.
"Put your hands back by your sides and stop fidgeting, Elena." Sam's calm, but stern voice rang out against the silence starling Ellie making her flinch in surprise as she immediately dropped her hands back by her sides and locked her knees. Ellie let out an unexpected whiny moan of frustration finding the punishment gravely difficult to take as the minutes seemed to tick by painstakingly slow. She didn't know how long she had been standing there, but it seemed like an eternity to the impatient girl and found herself overcome with dreadful boredom. How long was he going make her endure this torture? A slight bitterness towards Mr. Winchester rose against her agitated nerves as she was certain she had him to thank for this. If Sam meant this as a deterrent for her to think twice before she yelled and cussed in his face again, he had reached his goal within the first five minutes. It was a fantastic hinderance for the active girl going as far as her wishing the man had just spanked her more and that was really saying something seeing as the Hunter's heavy hand was most definitely nothing to sneeze at. Despite not really understanding the gravity of her thinking, her adolescent mind was locked onto the present isolating her on her current predicament and how much she loathed it. At least her suffering would be over with a spanking rather than the slow 'mental torture' of standing so rigidly still.
"This is so hard." Ellie found herself complaining, a childlike whiny tone creeping into her voice absolutely kicking herself for not keeping a lid on her emotions because staring at the wall bored as hell, she was coming to find, was not worth it.
"Good. It's not supposed to be fun." Sam declared frankly an edge of poised satisfaction in his tone, somewhat pleased that it was getting through to her and having some effect. His sympathy for her discomfort did not run deep as he felt she had more than earned the privilege.
"Can I do a five-mile run instead?" Ellie dared to suggest hoping to put ideas into Sam's head that he might find more productive and beneficial then standing and facing some dust ridden wall like some useless statue. Not to mention, it catered to Ellie's enjoyment of physical exercise, although strenuous when given as a form of punishment, it did give her an elevating boost of endorphins and a craving adrenaline rush that lifted her spirits and feed her desire to train.
"No." Sam clipped in a curt tone feeling a bite of annoyance pinch at his agitated nerves at her poor attempt to talk her way out of her well-earned punishment. Sam fought the urge to roll his eyes at her obvious self-serving suggestion, well aware that the active teenager preferred physical activity which is partly the reason she found her nose against the wall. He put her there for a reason and it sure as hell wasn't for her personal amusement. If her goal was to sneakily persuade him to cave, she was barking up the wrong tree with him. The Hunter cupped his forehead with his palm pressing his thumb against one side of his temple and his fingers against the other trying to alleviate the straining pressure of his headache that she, unwittingly, was agitating by her complaining.
"What if I cleaned all the weapons too?" Ellie pushed unable to help herself, hoping the tacking on of an additional chore might entice him to reconsider this heinous torture. Although she knew it was a long shot to begin with, the girl was desperate to try as she felt like she would just die of boredom or go insane if she stood there staring at the stupid dusty flower any longer. Besides there was a part of her that, subconsciously, craved the communication as it alleviated her from her boring stupor giving her something else to focus on other than the wall; in addition to gaining a smidge of control over the humbling situation she found herself in. However, it would seem the Hunter was having none of it.
"You keep talking, young lady, and not only will I take you up on your generous offers, but I'll tack on that tip over my knee you have hanging over your head." Sam threatened calmly, but with a dangerously firm edge to his tone that had Ellie clamping her mouth shut putting an immediate halt to her sale's pitch, suddenly coming to the conclusion that staring at the wall wasn't so bad as Sam just indicated he could make it so much worse.
Ellie's lips contorted into a grimacing pout making her want to dramatically throw her head back and groan in self-pity, but wisely kept her adolescent urges at bay as she was forced to accept the fact that she was being punished. Sam made it abundantly clear that no amount of sale's tactics or self-serving enticement was going to get her out it. No matter how persuasive or promising she thought her suggestions were, the ridged man seemed set in his resolve to punish the way he saw fit. And running five miles, cleaning all weapons, and getting an ass beating sounded a hell of a lot worse than just sucking it up like an obedient little buttercup and stare at the wall until she time was up.
It was a total bluff on Sam's part as he had not the will, the time, nor the energy to dish out a full-blown ass whopping, send her on a five-mile run in the city, and pull out all the weapons for a deep clean, but Ellie didn't know that.
A sudden brisk knock sounded against the silence of the small motel room that caused Ellie to snap her neck to the side, looking past the white dresser towards the motel room door on the other side. With a gasp clogged in her throat, Ellie felt an anxious unease tense her limbs. No one knocked on their motel room door, ever, not even maids as the 'do not disturbed' sign was always put out or they specifically requested that no one enter during their stay.
Feeling his muscles stiffen with ingrained caution, Sam slowly stood up and began to tread his black socked feet towards the smudged off-white motel door. Sensing Sam's movements, Ellie strained her neck to glance over her shoulder, but still, obediently, kept her toes rooted against the edge of baseboard and her hands at her sides. With a solemn look of wariness etched into the man's features, Sam simply pointed a directing finger at her, an indication for her to turn back around and face the wall. Getting the clear message, Ellie turned her head back around to face the wall, but angled her gaze just enough to her left so she could see who was at the door, too curious and apprehensive not to look.
Sam, with his senses heightened with instilled vigilance, reached his long arm down and grabbed ahold of the tarnished brass knob giving it a brisk turn. The man pulled and swung open the dirty worn door to be greeted by the last person he expected to see, his dying brother. Sam lips parted and his green eyes rounded and flashed in surprise nearly gasping as Dean's slumped frame leaned against the scuffed doorframe. The poor man looked like hell as he glanced up at his younger brother, his face a sickly shade of white with dark circles under his weary eyes that were drooping from exhaustion making his eye sockets look sunken in a touch.
"What the hell are you doing here?" Sam questioned in utter disbelief completely taken back that Dean had not only managed to evade the hospital staff in his condition, but had trucked his dying ass all the way to the motel room without collapsing.
"I checked myself out." Dean informed in a somewhat pleased, but strained voice as he shifted his hunched body inside using the side of the door frame for support before he moved his weakened body towards the white dresser that sat just a foot inside. Dean leaned the brunt of his weight onto his forearm as he pressing it against the dresser top next to the black boxed TV set. His deteriorating body was utterly spent from hiking his weakened limbs all the way from the hospital to the motel. Although only less than a mile from the hospital, it was quite the trek for the dying man and his crippling muscles were aching with strain.
"Are you crazy?" Sam admonished a bit concerned Dean was out of the hospital's care, but, regardless, he couldn't deny he was pleased to see him.
"Well, I'm not going to die in a hospital where the nurses aren't even hot." Dean quipped in a raspy tone as he rotated against his forearm angling his drooping posture towards his brother before motioning his palm up idlily in an 'oh well' gesture. While it was a crying shame to the lady's man that he did not receive the care of young attractive nurses, the main and honest reason was he was too damn lonely and did not want to spend his dying hours alone in a hospital without his brother by his side. The fear of him kicking the bucket suddenly without saying his goodbyes was too much of a possibility to bear and the man could not stand being alone with his depressing thoughts for hours on end.
Sam scoffed lightly in his throat, the side of his upper lip rising in a mild critical sneer as he shook his head at his brother's joking facade. The astute man was aware his brother was scared and couldn't help, but wish he would just be honest with him, without feeling the need to hide behind a joke. "You know, this whole 'I laugh in the face of death' thing…" Sam began as he shut the door behind him. "It's crap. I can see right through it." Sam scolded bluntly, but in rather gentle manner reminding Dean he didn't have to put on a front in front him and it was alright to admit the natural and valid fear. However, Dean wasn't about to go all touchy-feely and sing Kumbaya with his brother. An instilled toughness was imbedded into the man conscience for as long as he could remember, always having to put on a brave face for his little brother's sake and he wasn't about to stop now, even at the last of his dying days. What he needed was a stiff whiskey to drown out some of this aggravating, weakening, pain and keep his mind off what a shitty hand he was delt.
"Yeah, whatever, dude." Dean dismissed too tired and weak to argue about what to feel right now. The weary man rotated his body to the side, pivoting his forearm on the smooth top of the white dresser feeling his decrepit limbs struggle from exhaustion as he moved to walk, eager to find a seat to drop his ass into.
"You even slept? You look worse than me." Dean commented glancing over his shoulder slightly at his brother attempting to take the attention off himself, feeling touch of worry as his brother looked unusually weary and overly stressed.
Sam immediately moved to grab Dean's bicep positioning himself against his brother's drooping side, allowing Dean to lean into him a bit taking the strain off his weakened leg muscles as he guided him towards the bulky 'waiting room' chair that sat out away from the wall behind Ellie.
Ellie limbs locked and stiffened tensely in dreaded anticipation as her complexion redden with a shameful embarrassment wishing the floor would just open up and swallow her rather than face Dean with what she had done. It was inevitable that he was going to see her standing there in such a compromising position no less and, if Ellie was betting on the man's intrusive character when it came to anything involving herself, he was undoubtably going to want to know why.
What if Sam told him all the horrible things she said, the swearing, the disrespect, the blame she cast upon his brother? And knocking his freaking laptop to the floor like a manic to boot? Ellie could already feel brittle rifts beginning to fight its way to surface within her chest as her features scrunched up into a grimace of awaited chastisement. Ellie knew Dean was going to be so beyond disappointed, not to mention angry as hell with her. And if that wasn't bad enough, the man was dying and all she was leaving him to remember her by was being a royal pain in the ass which was devastatingly disgraceful to a whole new degree.
"I've been scouring the internet for the last three days." Sam admitted, keeping a firm and supportive hold on his bicep before Dean abruptly halted his dragging feet as his eyes caught a glimpse of the little girl's backend facing the wall looking stiff as a board. Ellie could practically feel the man's eyes boring into the back of her head making the knot in her chest constrict unbearably tight. The man's eye brows raised high on his forehead in both a baffled and critical manner.
"And what hell did you do to be facing the wall?" Dean inquired at the little girl's turned back, an edge of firmness and grumpiness in his groggy tone knowing she must have really pushed it with his patient brother to land her there and he was, honestly, a bit stunned. Dean's raised brows suddenly furrowed as a hardness indented into his weary features wondering in grave disgruntlement if she got her ass whopped too. He damn well hoped not, as he had just recently told her to behave for Sam, but as the evidence suggested, she wasn't doing such a bang-up job at obeying that serious order and Dean found an irritation beginning to bite at his tired nerve endings.
Ellie felt her breath shoot up into her throat clogging her airway like an obstructive lump blocking her ability to speak a single word. Fretful agitation jittered her nerves as she couldn't think of one damn thing to say without spilling her guts about the whole shameful ordeal that transpired between her and Sam. Ellie dipped her head down slightly allowing her straight brown locks to curtain her profile as she felt a whole new set of self-pity tears begin to well up behind her eyes at the sheer embarrassment of it all. Sam had not released her from her punishment yet, so in respect of his orders Ellie did not turn around to face the man, not that she wanted to as she felt she would melt into a puddle of shame.
There was a long beat of awkward silence that transpired between them before Sam took it upon himself to break the rising tension.
"She's there to cool off." Sam informed honestly in a levelly calm tone as he regarded Ellie's turned slender frame behind Dean's hunched back making Ellie feel a ping of apprehension strike her chest awaiting Sam to continue with the winded list of her transgressions, but to Ellie's great surprise, it never came.
Dean strained his back and his neck muscles to glance over his slumped shoulder at his brother cocking an inquisitive eyebrow awaiting for his brother to expand on his frustratingly brief explanation, but all he got in response was Sam giving him a brief tight-lipped smile that was half-hearted at best. It was clear indication his brother was not inclined to disclose any more than that which was not exactly appreciated, and Dean would be lying if he said he was not a touch offended by the exclusion, but the exhausted man didn't push it. If Sam wanted to keep it between the two of them then he'd respect that, as long as he took care of what the hell it was, there really was no need to get his dying-self involved.
As far as Sam was concerned the situation had been handle and there was no need burden Dean with the stress of what had occurred. Besides, there was a large part of his kind disposition that wanted to spare Ellie from the unnecessary added embarrassment of it all. Despite Ellie no doubt deserving every and all aspects of the consequences her actions brought her, the merciful man was not inclined to subject her to the additional harsh scolding from his tough-minded brother. Sam knew how Dean would react and it wouldn't be pretty to say the least and the dying man did not need the extra strain it would bring him. Ellie being only thirteen did not exempt her from Dean's instinctive protective mentality towards his younger brother, that had been embedded into his conscience since childhood, and saying he wouldn't take kindly to any disrespect being thrown Sam's way was an understatement, much less the disrespect of being cussed at, along with the willfully attempt to damaging his property. Therefore, from Sam's standpoint, there was no need to draw out the issue and create unnecessary tension and stress where it was not needed.
"Go ahead and turn around, Elena. Your time's up." Sam directed in his normal gentil manner, but with a noticeably poised edge of calm authority. Despite, her still having another few minutes, Sam didn't find it necessary and his compassionate nature was all too willing to spare her the awkwardness of facing the wall while Dean was there. In Sam's calculations, she had stood there long enough and had got the message he was trying to relay loud and clear.
Ellie felt a wave of relief wash over her, if not a little bit of bewilderment, as to why Sam did not tell Dean about what she had said and done. It was no small thing as she acted like an unhinged lunatic, cussing, screaming and damaging property and she was now thinking how damn lucky she was for not getting compete and thorough ass beating for it. Much to Ellie's recalled dismay, her uncle would have most likely pulled his belt off if she ever spoke to him like that which, for some reason, made it all the worse for Ellie's guilt, feeling a whole new wave of appreciation towards Sam's restraint. Whatever Sam's reason to keep her transgressions between them, Ellie was extremely grateful.
With her muscles straining with abashed hesitancy, Ellie forced herself to turn around. Although feeling ungodly awkward to face the two men after being punished, there was no way in hell the girl was going to continue to stare at the dusty black floral wallpaper for one second longer than she had to, which she was coming to gravely loath. The wall was ugly and gaudy to begin with, but staring directly at it, for what seemed like an hour, when in reality it was only ten minutes, it was becoming downright repulsive to her eyes. Determined not to act like a timid baby and show the humbling effects the punishment had on her, Ellie treaded her feet, with as much stubborn dignity as she could muster, over to her bed making a point not to look at either of the men as she strode past them at forced casual pace. Seeing her hat resting on top of the green stripped comfort, Ellie immediately reached down and grabbed the brim of her navy cap off the scratchy green striped comforter and situated it back on her head where it rightfully belonged.
Taking his attention off the little girl, Sam steered Dean around and guided his backside down into the 'waiting room' chair before taking a seat across from him onto the bed. Dean sighed out a groan as he slouched his aching muscles down into the stiff green cushions of the bulky 'waiting room' chair. His keen green eyes cast over towards Ellie watching the girl settled her backside on the corner of the firm mattress noting that she didn't seem to have any problem sitting down making him come to the swift and fleeting conclusion that the girl didn't get her backside blistered after all or was just doing an incredible job hiding it.
"Been calling every contact in dad's journal." Sam began, his voice light with a lifted optimism and hope, which was a hell of a lot more than he was feeling.
"For what?" Dean asked in a raspy tone, his brows furrowed partly from the pain he was in, but partly because he was confused as to why the hell his brother was calling everyone and their grandmother.
"For a way to help you." Sam professed in a confident optimism, a small hopeful grin forming across his mouth gently. "One of dad's friends, Joshua, he called me back. Told me about a guy in Nebraska, a specialist."
"You're not gonna let me die in peace, are you?" Dean's questioned, his guttural voice deepened in a graveled tone, feeling a whole new wave of weariness fall upon him as his plan to pass peacefully resting was crushed under his brother's words.
"I'm not gonna let you die, period." Sam proclaimed with immovable resolve.
"We're going." He asserted making Dean shake his head as he stifled a small scoff at his brother's determination and optimism despite the irrefutable fact that nothing could be done to stop him from dying. Leave it to his brother to stubbornly refuse to accept the inevitable. But still, despite the hopelessness of it all, there was a warmth and appreciation for his brother's efforts. Dean had accepted the fact that he was going to die, although it scared him to death of the unknown, the cold hard truth was certain and he was prepared to face it with a 'give 'em hell' attitude. However, it was clear Sam was not going to sit idly by and if it would give his brother some comfort to make the effort, he would go along with it, but wasn't inclined to get his hopes up for something that would never come.
Ellie felt a jolt of excitement surge through her veins like electric currents zapping at her nerves with a hopeful anticipation. Nebraska was her stomping grounds, her home turf, and she knew that state better then all others combined and more importantly Ellie knew of two locations where Grimoires were hidden. Depending on where this 'specialist' was in Nebraska, Ellie might have a chance of getting a hold of one of them. Granted, it was a very slim chance to get the opportunity to get away, but the fact that there was even a chance was elating, bringing hope to the stressed teenager, something she desperately yearned for, and Ellie grasped a hold of it with all her might. Was fate finally giving her the break that she needed?
0000
Within ten minutes they were on the road headed to Ford City, Nebraska. The rain pattered lightly onto the Impala's sleek black frame and windshield as Ellie pulled her black Jansport backpack off the floor of the Impala onto her lap unzipping the main zipper and digging her hand down to the bottom. Pushing aside her silver pocket lock pick, flask of holy water, and emergency Morton Salt canister with her fingers, Ellie grasped a hold of her map of Nebraska. Once she had the folded map grasped tightly between her eager fingers, Ellie set her backpack back on the floor and began to flip the ends of it open before fanning it out completely in front of her onto her denim covered thighs. With an urgent and gritty expression etched into her young features, Ellie darted her wide russet eyes scanning the map keenly for Ford City. Once her eyes honed in on the location, Ellie traced her finger along the smooth paper until she found the small town of Red Cloud. Ellie's eyes visibly widened flashing with an elated realization feeling anxiety prickle against her chest wildly like sparklers on the Four of July hyping her nerves with a conflicting excitement and natural apprehension. One of Pastor Jim's 'lock-up' locations was in Red Cloud and it was only ten miles south of Ford City! Ten freaking miles! Ellie could scarcely believe her luck as her 'fat chance' just turned into a serious possibility. If she played her cards right, she might have a chance to save the man.
The 'lock-up' location Pastor Jim owned was an old rundown Baptist church that had been vacant for decades. He used it to store tools, equipment, weapons, curse boxes and, to Ellie's elated recollection, at least one Grimoire he got off a witch he hunted down a few years ago. Pastor Jim let Caleb use it on occasion when he found himself in need of specific supplies or store certain 'dangerous' or 'curst' items. Ellie had been to the old church 'lock-up' location at least twice before and was confident enough that she could get there without getting lost. However, despite her excitement for the opportunity luck presented to her, how she was going to get a chance to sneak away was one major problem as Sam and Dean were painstakingly overprotective and never let her out of their sights even for a moment. She couldn't even take a piss without them knowing about. How the hell was she going to be able to sneak away?
As Ellie continued to study the map, Dean's weakened frame lay slouched at an angle, his shoulder blades resting in between the gap of the front passenger door and the stiff black leather bench seat feeling his deteriorating body ache with exhaustion. The dying man's eyes were rested shut attempting to get some sleep, but the incessant pain he was experiencing was keeping him frustratingly awake.
Hearing paper rustle and flap behind him, Dean opened his eyes slowly before straining his neck muscles to look over the back of leather bench seat. With his brows furrowed in curiosity, Dean's eyes settled on the young teenager behind him who had her head dipped down giving Dean a direct and somewhat frustrating view of the top of her navy cap as she studied the map in her lap with seemingly intense concentration.
"What are you doing?" Dean's rippled groggy tone inquired with interest.
Dean's voice wasn't loud nor was it stern, but against the silence within the car and Ellie's hyper fixation on the map in front of her, Dean's voice seemed to come out of nowhere. As soon as the man's voice hit Ellie's unsuspecting ears, she felt her limbs tense and flinch embarrassingly harsh as a startled girlish gasp emanated from her parted lips jerking her head up to look at Dean. Her russet brown eyes were rounded in alarm looking like a deer facing headlights.
Dean's eyebrows raised high on his forehead crinkling his brow with a surprised, somewhat confused expression, a bit taken back by her startled reaction to his simple question. He might as well have said 'Boo' by how much the little teen jolted in her seat, like she was caught with her hand in the cookie jar or something.
"Jeez kid. Did you forget I was in the car?" Dean countered in response wondering why the hell she was excessively jumpy all of a sudden, but then again, Dean was aware she was, understandably, a jumpy kid by nature.
Ellie didn't want to admit it, but for a second, yeah, she did forget he was in the car.
"I ain't dead yet." Dean reminded lightly, resorting to his defenses automatically, as he attempted to defuse the awkwardness and make light of the situation. However, unfortunately, it was very poorly received by the young teenager whose dark brows dipped into a deep frown of censure and grave offense. His horribly dark joke was greatly unappreciated by hurting teenager and Ellie felt her agitated nerves bristle with indignation. He might be okay with cracking jokes about his condition, but Ellie, sure as hell, was not and didn't find it remotely funny or even understandable, in fact, she found herself loathing it.
Her worn and over-tired emotions tensed with aggravation as she felt her teeth grit against each other giving the man quite the reproachful glare which looked frightfully cross and unfitting against her young feminine features.
"That's not funny." Ellie gritted tightly, a biting condemnation and grave offense edging her adolescent vocals that were deepen a touch, attempting to leave no doubt in the man's mind that she did not approve of his ill-favored humor at the moment. He was dying and, in Ellie's opinion, that was nothing mock, dismiss, or make light of as if everything will be okay when he's gone. To Ellie's young heart, it would never be okay and his attempt to be carefree or indifferent about something so horrible bothered the girl straight to her core. His life mattered a hell of a lot her and her heart bleed every time he would joke about it.
"Wasn't really trying to be, kiddo." Dean countered in a calm, but somewhat deflated demeanor. Despite making light of his condition, his goal wasn't to make her laugh. It was an unfortunate and poor choice of words on his part that he expressed automatically without giving it much thought or consideration. It was an instilled defensive strategy that he adopted for as long as he could remember to cope with his fears. It was deeply rooted and automatic and the Hunter had trouble turning it off. And despite not expecting to get such a negative reaction from the teenager, in hindsight, he should have been more mindful of his words and he felt a pin prick of regret over it.
Ellie visibly swallowed as she attempted to get a hold of her whirling emotions. She needed to keep a level head and not act like she was hiding something and jumping like a lunatic from a simple question was not winning her any points in the art of stealth. It was vital that she remain as calm and collected as possible and not alert them to even a touch of suspicion as it was literally her ass if they caught wind of anything remotely out of the ordinary with her.
"Sorry." Ellie apologized half-heartedly in a somewhat rushed dismissal, attempting let Dean's words roll off her back as dipped her head back down to look at the map, automatically hiding her face from him again. She had more important things to waste her energy on and, right now, she needed all her focus and brainpower fixated on a strategy to get away.
"I just wanted to see where Ford City was." Ellie explained forcing her tone into an unbothered and casual manner, which, to her credit, wasn't a lie.
"It's about an eleven hour drive, Ellie." Sam voice piped up in the driver's seat making Ellie tilted her head up from the map, her straight brown locks fanning back away from the sides of her cheekbones as she directed her attention to the tall Hunter.
Like the impatient active teenager she was, Ellie never failed to ask how long the drive would take as sitting still for long periods of time was not where she shinned. And much to Ellie's usually good fortune at the moment, Sam saw her looking at a map as not only reasonable, but in direct character of the restless teenager's personality and did not think anything of it.
"Why don't you get some shut eye?" Sam suggested in an even caring tone as he glanced at her briefly through the rearview mirror, his masculine vocals somewhat soothing to Ellie's ear as she started to become aware and appreciate the man's calming genial manner. Sam had a way about him that made her tense muscles slacken bringing her an unwitting comfort and reassurance. The man had a genuine, kind, and caring soul and Ellie was obliged to notice which, unsuspectingly, made her continual private deception, rightly, more difficult.
"You need it, kiddo." Sam added in a tender, but assertive manner, indicating that his suggestion was more of a kind demand.
Getting the hint clearly, Ellie nodded her head once in a compliant and accepting gesture.
"Yes, sir." Ellie expressed politely feeling a newfound additional respect towards the man as the eye-opening and humbling experience of being punished by the Hunter was still fresh in the young girl's memory. And she was of no mind to be anything, but compliant and accommodating to the man who showed her he could blister her tail quite harshly if he thought it necessary bringing her back to the frustrating, but humbling reality of being a thirteen-year-old child who still required guidance. Despite the healthy dose of additional respect, there was a larger part of her that wanted to get a back in his good graces and attempt make up for her shameful outburst that he so generously kept between the two of them.
Ellie compressed the map back against its folds and flipped its ends back over each other into its original elongated rectangular form. Ellie leaned her torso forward as she slipped the map back into her black Jansport backpack before pulling the two zippers on the sides towards each other until they met in the middle at the top in a meticulously neat manner. Ellie grabbed ahold of the sides of her backpack and propped it against the small gap between the back passenger door and black leather seat cushion to serve as her makeshift pillow.
Ellie then placed her hands on either side of her slender frame and pivoted her bottom against the stiff black leather stretching her legs out across the bench seat and settling her head against the rough dented ridges of the contents of her backpack. It wasn't the most comfortable sleeping arrangement to say the least, but it didn't bother the young Hunter's kid, who learned early on in life to sleep anywhere. Ellie reached up and grasped a hold of the brim of her navy cap tugging it downwards over her face until all, but her rounded chin was covered.
Ellie interlaced her slim fingers and rested them on top of her petite chest. Despite being bone tired, Ellie's anxious thoughts kept her wide awake as she contemplated a plan on how to slip away. However, the more Ellie thought, the more discouraged she became. Despite Red Cloud being so promisingly close, Ellie knew, in her heart of hearts, Sam and Dean would never let her out of their sight. And even if she did manage to sneak away or even had the balls to just make a run for it, they would be right on her ass in no time. A hopelessness began to build up like tense knot around her heart making her body sink in a weighted defeat as she could not come up with one damn path that did not lead her to getting immediately caught with a serious ass whopping for her troubles. Ellie was at a loss, but the young gusty teenager was not about to give up. Where there is a will, there is way and Ellie was going to find that way, no matter what the cost.
0000
Sam had been driving nonstop through the night as the urgency to get to Ford City was tensely strong within Sam's determination and will. His brother was dying and time was not on their side. 'I'd give him a couple of weeks, maybe a mouth' – the doctor's words echoed in his ears incessantly pushing a drive within him to haul ass and do what he had to do to make it to Le Grange's service well before four the next day.
And as far as Ellie was concerned, it would seem after exhaustion had eventually taken over her young body, the teenager did manage to get four to five hours of some much-needed sleep, but that was all her anxious mind could muster before she was awakened by her disruptive and anxious thought.
Ellie sat slouched against the leather bench seat with her legs tucked up underneath her looking outside the window at the ran droplets speckled on the glass pane that seemed to illuminate with the pulsing yellow glow of the highway street lamps.
"You haven't said word for the past three hours. You feeling okay, kiddo?" Dean's gravelly voice piped up in concern as the young girl seemed unnaturally distant, attentively aware that she had been awake for quite some time staring out the window scarcely moving a muscle or even breaking her gaze off that window.
Ellie had a mind to roll her eyes in grumpy teenage frustration, but managed by the skin of her teeth to keep that urge at bay. It amazed Ellie to know end that the man was concerned about her health when he was literally dying. It seemed inappropriate and wrong somehow and it both annoyed and saddened her to an extent.
"No, sir. I'm fine." Ellie lied glumly feeling a hopeless sink her heart, like a cumbersome weight was pulling it down towards her gut, a helpless and sickening sensation. She wasn't physically sick like the man suspected, but she was far from 'okay'.
Around the halfway point, Sam had stopped at a gas station off the county highway to fill up the tank and make use of the restrooms. After taking care of business and stretching their legs, Sam went into the convenient store to grab a large coffee and told Ellie to pick out something to eat. Ellie declined the offer expressing rather glumly that she wasn't really hungry which put a touch of concern against Sam's nerves as it was gravely out of character for the active teenager to denied any food being offered, especially snacks. After his pressing insistence to at least grab a granola bar and water, Ellie reluctantly complied and they were on the road again.
0000
After eleven long hours of driving, Sam finally pulled the Impala into the nearly vacant lot of the family owned Bakerson's Inn in Ford City, Nebraska. After Sam had checked them in the modest lobby, they made their way down the small narrow hall to the last room on the left, room number 8. Sam unlocked the door and allowed Ellie to walk in first under his arm as he pushed the worn faded door open with his fingertips. A distinct smell of musty mothballs filled Ellie's nostrils as she walked through the small square entrance section that had an arched doorway leading into largest motel room they had been in to date, which was divided into two distinct sections of a bedroom and kitchen. If it wasn't for the circumstances, Ellie would be obliged to be elated by the space, as living with two grown, overbearing, Hunters made a teenage girl crave some breathing room, even if she was breathing in the stale musk of poor ventilation and water damage.
A decent sized window on the wall across from the entrance archway, veiled with a sheer inner curtain, shinned a dreary grey light over the thin yellow fabric of the stretchy looking comforters that draped atop the two firm mattresses of the queen-sized beds. The faded yellow fabric of the comforters, that was printed with a Moroccan-like pattern, contrasted rather dully against the dark brown textured walls of the bedroom section which made it appear almost cave-like without the lights on.
With a light airy sigh passing though her nose, Ellie treaded her boots the length of the rigid mattress, passing by an old wooden chest of drawers with a small TV from the eighties situated on top, until she rounded the foot of the two queen beds positioned across from the large cutout archway that divided the room. Within the inner part of the wide archway were two short pony walls that had decretive iron panels with geometric rectangles cut out into it that traveled from the top of the pony walls all the way up to the end curves of the rounded arch. Ellie raised her dark eyebrows a touch in with dismissive mild indifference; old design choices baffled Ellie's teenage comprehension.
Ellie's thick brown Carhart boots rapped across the thin fibers of the dark grey carpeting, passing through the large cutout archway into the spacious, fully equipped, kitchen section of the room. Ellie might as well have been walking into an entirely different motel room as that is how it felt. The walls were not a textured dark brown, but were smooth and covered with a busy faded wallpaper of an elongated drip-like patterns of dark purples, blues, sandy yellows, and greys that overtook the off-white color behind it and not exactly in a pleasing way to Ellie's young eyes. The only thing that was consistent with the bedroom section of the room was the thin dark grey carpeting that travel to every corner of the divided room.
Ellie's eyes scanned the spacious kitchen area taking in the faded 1970s mismatched décor in all its former glory. Along the back wall sat a stretch of a dark grey countertop with a 1970s olive green stove on one end and a matching vintage rounded-front fridge on the other. In the center below the rather large window sat a stainless-steel sink with a chrome fossette and two clear twist knobs. The stretch of dirty white cabinet that ran below the countertop and the two wall cabinets that were positioned on either side of the window were worn, stained, and scuffed from decades of use.
Ellie's capturing eyes flicked casually over to the center of the kitchen section which sat a well-used table with a vinyl square top tainted in a pale-yellow hue, that perhaps, like the cabinets, had once been white in its lifetime, and was edged with a pleated chrome border. In between the thin chrome legs of the table sat a set of four high back chairs with a gaudy 1970s green floral pattern on them that had been faded by the countless backs and asses that rested in them over the decades. Despite the décor being faded and dulled by the tests of time and ugly as sin to the teenager's young eyes, it still had an odd homey quality to it that the other motels they had stayed at didn't and if Ellie wasn't in such low spirits she might have been tempted to appreciate the certain home-like comfort it gave her.
Ellie adjusted the black shoulder strap of her backpack that hung over slender shoulder before turning her attention to her right at the wall next to the olive-green fridge where another worn door hung open revealing a small bathroom.
Sam treaded into the room with all four duffle bags thrown over his broad shoulder, his large calloused palm constricted around the several straps with surprisingly ease. With a twist of his strong wrist, he flung the bags off his shoulder and plopped the heavy luggage onto the stiff springs of rigid mattress just inside room before immediately turning around to grab ahold of his brother's bicep. Noting with concern that Dean leaned into him a bit more heavily than last time, Sam guided his brother's drooping frame along the length of the bed. Dean grunted as he strained his weakened muscles to their limit fighting to keep his body upright as the pain was weighing him down significantly. Sam guided his brother's backside down on the firm mattress at the foot of the bed. Dean cupped his palm onto his denim covered thigh pressing into the aching fibers of his quad as he slouched heavily attempting to keep himself upright, his black zip-up hoodie crinkling against his chest and abdomen. Dean inhaled deep labored breaths through his nose as he attempted to steady his breathing and gritted his teeth through the obnoxious pain.
He felt like he had run five marathons then got kicked in the chest with the steel toed boots of some biker gag for a couple of hours. Dean prided himself in handling physical pain with more than a stiff upper lip. He had been slashed, thrown, bitten, beaten bloody, suffered through several broken bones, deep contusions, dislocated joints, and that wasn't even the half of it, as it all came with the territory of hunting the supernatural, who all didn't exactly hold still while he tried to end the evil sons of bitches. He would even go as far as saying he got accustomed to being in physical pain, but this pain was annoyingly different as it was all internal, effecting his organs, weakening him with every passing minute it seemed and that, in itself, was a tough pill for the proud Hunter to swallow, who characterized himself as a protector against the supernatural. And now finding he couldn't even walk down a freaking hallway without feeling like his legs were going to collapse underneath him, needing his younger brother, the one he was supposed to be watching out for, to guide his ass with every shaky step he took was emasculatingly humiliating for the twenty-six-year-old Hunter. It maybe proudly misguided, but the effects were there, bruising his ego as a capable man and skilled Hunter feeling like his very purpose and identity was being stripped away from him with every passing minute, which, in turn, made him feel useless and, even worse than that, a burden. In short, it sucked to the high heavens and a raising irritability and resentment began to prick at his nerves.
After his brother's backside was settled on the bed, Sam hooked a finger under the cuff of his dark grey jacket sleeve pulling it back just enough to reveal his black Gramin wrist watch underneath. Taking note of the time, Sam judged they had well over five hours until Reverand Le Grange's service, thanks to his haste to drive through the night, which he appreciating it now more than ever as his brother was in serious need of some stronger painkillers. Despite witnessing Dean fighting through the pain with astounding grit, Sam could see right through the macho exterior and it was clear the man was in grave pain and there was a tender urgency to get him relief. They usually kept an abundance of some intense 'under the counter' drugs, acquired through underground contacts and sources within the Hunting world, but Sam had been so busy researching ways to save his brother's life, he neglected to even think about restocking, a part of which he contributed to a full-mind and exhaustion, but luckily, they had time to go to a local doctor and get the painkillers he required honest way.
"We need to go to a doctor here in the city to get you some stronger painkillers, Dean." Sam urged calmly, but in a rather blunt and assertive manner, laying it out straight for his brother fully aware he was going to get a push back despite his obvious need.
"Aren't we going to see that specialist?" Dean countered a bit grumpily attempting to keep his strained voice as even as possible as he fought stubbornly against the pain. He had just finally sat his weak ass onto the bed, which was frustratingly no walk in the park, and, now, his brother wanted to haul him to some random doctor before they even saw the specialist. It seemed irritatingly unnecessary and a added pain in the ass no matter how he looked at it.
"Yeah, but that's not until four. In the meantime, I really think we should go to a clinic." Sam persisted in a poised, but confidently insisting approach as he cupped his large palms around his lean hips and rooted his boots rigidly into the dark grey carpeting.
"What about those kick ass pain meds we got? Just give me some of those." Dean requested his groggy voice hastening and tightening as his masculine features scrunched up into a pained grimace, staring at the carpet below his brown boots.
"We ran out." Sam informed frankly with a regretful sigh to his calm tone.
"Son of a bitch." Dean declared testily through gritted teeth, this time not even attempting to hide the tenseness in his voice, before pushing his now trembling palm against his thigh as he strained to look up at his brother. The lines within Dean's expression were indented in a gravely irritated frown that was almost directly accusing. If dying wasn't enough, he had to haul his ass all over the Ford City, Nebraska before he kicked the bucket? They never ran out of pain meds as their dad had drilled it into the minds incessantly to be properly supplied at all times. He was beginning to think, smashing all those mirrors from the Bloody Mary case was finally catching up to him with this shit stroke of bad luck that was being thrown his way.
"Are freaking kidding me?" Dean graveled in a deep husky tone that was edged with a moody intolerance for inconveniences.
To Sam's credit, he remained commendably collected despite the exhaustion and incessant fear for his brother's life that was whirling wildly against his nerves. He was astutely aware his brother was hurting in more ways than one and graciously allowed his expected and understandable testy mood to roll off his back. Sam inhaled a heavy stream of air before sighing it out through his nostrils as he pressed his lips together in a thin line. The rigids in Sam's solemn expression remained soft, but his dark brows stiffen in a line of grave concern as his green eyes glinted imploringly at his older brother.
"Fine. Let's just get it over with." Dean caved with irritated reluctance, aware his brother's annoying talent to be stubbornly persistent was going to wear his tired-self down. Despite his brother being accommodating and compromising for the most part, when it came to certain things he was absolutely rigid on, the man was like a relentless number one used car salesman. Although, done in a poised and polite manner, the man was assertively tenacious and grindingly wearing and Dean was just too damn exhausted to continue an argument he was bound to lose and, the fact remained, no matter how much he didn't want to admit it, he really did need the pain medication.
Nodded once in gratefully acceptance, Sam rotated his toned frame around directing his attention to Ellie's turned back in the kitchen section of the room that he noted, with perplexed concern, had not moved an inch since she planted herself there. Sam's dark brows dipped feeling a touch of worry brush against his skin as she looked unnaturally stiff and her troublingly off behavior since they left for Nebraska was not easing the main's rising concerns. Despite Sam attributing her odd behavior to be rooted in stress and exhaustion, undoubtably worried about Dean, he was now beginning to think it was more than that.
Little did Sam and Dean know; Ellie little ears were well engaged, listening intently to every word spoken. Ellie bit the soft flesh of her bottom lip in a pensive manner; a confliction began to whirl inside her feeling her muscles tense and pull with grave hesitancy as her conscience rooted her brown Carhart boots into the stiff fibers of the grey carpeting beneath her. She really didn't want to be so deceitful as she knew what she was planning was not only gravely wrong, but border lining on outright betrayal. Yet, the panicking thought that this might be her one and only chance to save Dean forced her to battle intensely against her conscience.
"Ellie, you okay?" Sam asked genially, his soothing clam voice touched with edge of honest concern.
Hearing the man's voice, that seemed to crash against the silence, Ellie's breath shot up into her throat feeling her body surge with an intense anxiety that pricked against her nerves wildly. There was a long awkward pause of continued silence that sat between Ellie's stiff back and Sam and Dean attentive eyes. Despite the shameful scheme she concocted in the moment being stemmed from her deep care for the man, the guilt about the whole ordeal was pulling intensely strong on the young girl's muscles as her principles was screaming at her to remain honest. Yet, in Ellie's young mind, honesty was not going to save Dean life.
The man's gonna die, Ellie! Suck it up and do what you have to do before it's too late! It's now or never. This could be your only chance. Do it, do it now!
"I-I think I'm gonna be sick." Ellie announced sputteringly before reaching her arm up and grasping a hold of her black shoulder strap draped across her right collar bone. With swift speed, Ellie jerked the strap from her shoulder flinging her backpack carelessly onto the dark grey carpet before reaching up and snatching the brim of her navy cap. The preforming teenager ripped her hat off her head pitching it to the floor next to her backpack in an urgent display. Wasting not even a second, with elongating strides, Ellie pounded her boots into the thin carpet as she raced into the avocado-green tiled bathroom.
Once her boots crossed the threshold of the bathroom onto the cheap 1970s burnt orange linoleum tiles, Ellie whirled her body around and flicked on the black light switch that was situated to the right of the door. A dull yellow glow illuminated the small bathroom as the overhead exhaust fan hummed lowly above. Ellie swiftly grabbed a hold of the edge of the wooden door before flinging it shut causing it to slam against the outer frame. With hasty trembling fingers, Ellie moved to lock the door, but suddenly froze as her heart plummeted into her gut as she was face with the devastating reality that this particular bathroom had no freaking lock! The teenager's russet eyes flashed with alarm and a mindless, ramped up, panic surge through Ellie veins like jolting electric currents effectively skyrocketing her heartrate to newfound heights as her plan to 'fake it' behind a locked door was swiftly and utterly crushed within the first two seconds. What kind of a hotel does not have a lock on the bathroom door?!
Ellie's mind was whirling with in a frantic panic as she raced to come up with a plan B. Ellie could hear the weighted thudding of Sam's hastened steps approaching, feeling the vibrations of his heavy boots against the thin carpeting tremored against the soles of her boots. It wasn't until Ellie heard the clicking of the brass door knob rotate off its latch, did Ellie give into her panic completely and senselessly. In a desperate impromptu decision, Ellie whirled her body around and dropped onto her knees in front the porcelain toilet to the right of the old pedestal sink. The troubled and desperate thirteen-year-old then rashly proceeded to jam her pointer finger and ring finger down her throat in a purposeful attempt to trigger her gag reflex. In her haste the girl managed to jam her fingers rather roughly reaching the back confines of her throat making her heave out a hacking choke. Saliva build up rapidly around her inserted fingers spilling out the corners of her mouth and down the back of her hand. It was a horrendous and gravely unwanted feeling, but the reckless and misguided teenager fought against her natural instincts to pull her fingers out and allowed herself to stuffer through the terrible discomfort and continue gag and choke until it produced the convincing result she wanted. Ellie's young features grimaced in distress as automatic tears stung the outer rims of her eyes, not just from her body's natural response mechanisms, but from the horrid and damaging infliction of making herself deliberately suffer. Watery snot built up in the back of her nose as her tears spilled over and ran down the rosy flesh of her cheeks.
Feeling the familiar and urgent sensation of intense nausea traveling rapidly up her esophagus, Ellie removed her fingers and gripped urgently at the sleek sides of the porcelain seat. Her muscles tensed harshly under her skin as she puked out the contents of that granola bar she had only a few hours ago. Ellie desperately gasped in rushes of air as her chest rose and fell in short heaving breaths from the self-inflected strain she had just put on her young body. The lines in Ellie's troubled expression morphed into a miserable frown of both discomfort and severe regret. With her brow crinkled in repulsion and distress, she spat out the last of the dangling saliva from her lips feeling her esophagus burned from the stomach aid that lingered around her tastebuds with unpleasant sour and bitter tang.
It was absolutely dreadful and the young thirteen-year-old never ever wanted to do something so god-awful again. Being physically sick was one thing, but to force such an unpleasant ordeal upon herself made everything all the worse. Despite succeeding in displaying what she wished convincingly, not one ounce of her felt good or even a smidge satisfied. There wasn't even the comforting relief of 'getting it over with' as it was all based on a scheming lie she concocted so recklessly in the moment. To Ellie's grave dismay there was a deep loathing and shameful embarrassment that came with it seeping deep into the fibers of Ellie's muscles weighing her down with a dreadful sinking feeling of self-disappointment and regret. She never even imagined herself capable of such extreme deception, going to such drastic lengths just get the mere chance of saving the man, but the fact remained, it would seem under right circumstances when it came to life or death, in a weak moment of mindless panic and reckless desperation, Ellie showed herself more than capable. Call it 'fucked up', pitifully sad, shamefully manipulative, or whatever the hell it was, if it saved Dean's life in the end, young Ellie would declare it worth it.
Please, please, let it be worth it.
TBC
Think Ellie's reckless plan will work?
Stay tuned for Part 2!
Please review and let me know your thoughts, comments, insight, predictions etc. I appreciate it so much!
As always, thanks for reading! More to come!