103: Bobby John

When Sam had called and asked Dean for help, he had specifically requested that Jane come along. Dean had been reluctant to go, he was still trying to prove that he didn't want back in the fight, that they could make this life without hunting work… Jane was just ready to get him the hell out of the house. He had gotten paranoid after the djinn incident. He had gotten moody period. Sam was back and Dean had had time to properly process that, and the Campbells, and Bobby's own shady involvement. Jane was going to kill her husband if he didn't get out of her ass soon and stop freaking out whenever a car went by.

So Sam calling and asking for them both, she had considered it both a blessing and a curse. It got Dean out of the house but it was also for something he was actively trying to avoid. Catch .22's were great.

"Are you going to tell me why I'm being dragged along?"

Dean shook his head, eyes ahead as they neared where Sam was parked, waiting. "No, you'll punch me for being sexist."

Jane cocked an eyebrow. "Oh really?"

"Yeah, save it for Sam."

Save it for Sam… Jane waited until Dean had stopped his truck before opening the door and sliding down. She wasn't getting any overwhelmingly weird feelings from Sam, so it must not have been too bad. What somewhat weird feelings she did get from her resurrected brother-in-law were mild and still felt like something was missing on his end. She was letting it go with his explanation of 'I was in Hell', that did cover a lot of ground.

"Where is it?" Dean was right behind her.

"Strapped in the backseat."

"What the hell you guys…" Jane looked between the two before approaching Sam's car, looking down into the backseat, unsure of what to expect. Strapped down usually meant something dangerous… and that was… "You sexist, jerk."

"Told you." Dean was trying not to grin, peering over her shoulder.


"Paste or jelly… it goes on their butts. Jane, which one?"

"Either or." Jane didn't bother looking back, focusing instead on the contents of the shelf before her. The baby was in her arms, head on her shoulder, and she was trying not to get attached. Obviously they couldn't keep the baby, it had to have family somewhere, but there was the small matter of Shifters to deal with first apparently. "Hope you weren't being breastfed, kiddo." She said after a moment, finally selecting a formula.

"So…" Sam was watching the pair slowly filling the cart with baby stuff. "how do you know all this stuff?"

"Our friends had a baby last year." Dean said after a long moment, glancing at Jane who was pointedly ignoring them. After things had settled from the djinn, she had told him about one of the Campbell's nosing about that room, the one where their small collection of baby items had been stored… they had cleaned out the room and donated everything. No more reminders and nobody asking uncomfortable questions.

"Huh."

"Shut it."

"I only said-"

"Shut it." Jane interrupted flatly. "He's getting fussy. We need to go." Or at least pay for this stuff so she could make the kid a bottle or something.

"Sam's paying."

"Seems fair."


Jane had been an idiot. She had insisted that she and little Bobby John, Sam and Dean had named him sort of, would be fine while they went out and had a chat with the daddy. Except there had been a loud almost popping type of noise immediately followed by Bobby John crying in a panic. She had panicked a bit too. After what had happened at the store, with that shifter… she felt like she was walking around on eggshells and that noise did not help.

"You are black." It sounded horrible, it was potentially racist, and she could not stop gaping at the little chocolate colored baby who was gurgling up at her. "I swear to God you were white like five minutes ago…" She was to bemused to be politically correct right now. "Bobby John…?"

He just blinked at her, his tiny face screwing up for another crying jag.

She took in the scene around him and it was gross. Blood and skin on the wall, in his little makeshift crib… and on the diaper box. The diaper box, which had a picture of a baby in it. In fact, it was the same baby on the box that was in the crib… "I'm disconcerted." She informed him, her hands a bit shaky as she reached in to pick him up. "You're a shifter." She was also talking to him like he understood her, stepping back from the mess. She didn't want to clean that, that was gross. He needed cleaned up though. "Bath time… just… no more of that…" She didn't think she'd be able to handle it if he shifted while in her arms.

Bobby John was still crying, though it was fading into hiccups as she gathered up some bath supplies. She felt bad for the baby. That had to be a really terrible experience, just turning into someone else like that. Gross. Jane peeled away what was left of the skin that hadn't shed, dropping it in the bathroom trash can as quickly as she could. She managed to start drawing the water before undressing him, peeling off the excess skin that hadn't been able to escape his clothing and then hesitated at the diaper. "Crap."

"Hello?"

Someone was at the door and this was not a great time. Bobby John probably needed out of that very soiled diaper and Jane couldn't think of a very good explanation for the blood and grossness that caked the wall near his bed.

"Everything okay in there?"

"Yeah!" She had to walk out of the bathroom, a half-naked baby in her arms. "We're fine! Thank you."

"Ma'am, there have been complaints. Could you please open the door?"

Her Hell-No senses decided to kick in. The doorknob rattled and Jane quickly deposited Bobby John back into his crib before positioning herself in front of it, wishing she had her gun. That was by the bed, near the door. When it opened, nausea rolled over her, both from the fact that this shifter was presenting itself as a cop and from her psychic handicap. "Get out!"

"Get out of the way."

"Not going to happen." She spat through grit teeth, feeling something sinking in the pit of her stomach. She was no match for a shapeshifter, not without an equalizer. A tiny part of her mind asked if it wouldn't just be easier, not to mention increase the odds of her survival, if she did just get out of the way? Let the thing take the baby. She'd live, no more skinsplosions… but that was just a tiny part and Jane acknowledged it and moved on. Easier didn't always mean right.

"That child should be with its father."

"He's just your twin, isn't he?" She was bracing herself for the confrontation that was coming, pain throbbing behind her temples.

The shifter smiled humorlessly.