Okay guys, this is it... the final chapter for Enter Darkness. It's alot tamer than the fight scene in that last chapter but all the loose ends are tied up. I kinda had to slow the story down a bit because the first chapter of the next sequel W vs O Renegade is full of surprises. I wanted to take it easy on y'all because Renegade is going to be one heck of a joy ride : D
So anyway, without further adieu here it is: the final chapter. Enjoy: )
It's true what they say about the journey home being longer than the one setting out. Maggie and Jason walked most of the night to get back to the farmhouse and even then didn't reach the long dirt road that led there until just before dawn. It felt like forever and eventually they both started to worry that they'd never get there. Not that they'd ever admit it to each other or anything.
There'd been a freak thunderstorm during the night. One that surprised them with its intensity. Luckily it had been far enough away that they were able to watch most of it from a distance but when the storm finally broke and the rain began to fall they were right in the middle of it. Normal kids would've tried to find some cover to stay dry. Maggie and Jace never had been anything like normal though so they kept walking. Invisible forces driven by their own need to feel safe again pulling them back.
The rain tapered off the closer they got until it stopped entirely. A sense of urgency overtook them when they started down the dirt road, racing each other the last of the way; both fully expecting to find three large, rough looking adults searching the fields for them. They felt badly that they might have worried these people who had offered them nothing but safety and help.
Instead of finding the place a blaze of light and activity as expected though they found it still and dark. None of the outside lights were on. The doors to the big barn that had been locked up solid the day before were hanging loosely open like a cavernous mouth ready to eat whatever happened to chance a walk past it. That was the first sign of trouble.
There were two big trucks at opposing ends of the yard. Their father's and another shiny black one with dents along its side despite how new it looked. Maggie was staring at the mess the cornfield had become when Jason started running again, towards the dented truck this time. He'd caught sight of Bobby laying on the ground next to it. Him and another guy… a priest from the looks of his getup. They were both so…still. He couldn't help the thought that they might be dead. What the hell had happened here during the night anyway?
"Is that… is that Bobby?!?"
"Yeah." The boy was digging into his pocket for the walkie talkie and hoping Dean had found it. Ignoring a look from his sister he turned it on and spoke into it.
"Hello? Hello! Is anybody there?" Hating that he sounded nervous at all, but really worried that Dean might be in the same kind of shape Bobby and the other guy were in.
"Hello? Dean… Cal? Anybody?" This was so much worse than anything their father had ever done before.
Maggie was thinking that she was probably going crazy… maybe suffering from withdrawal of the drugs because she was sure she was hearing things. Jace was coming through in stereo from left and right. One side sounding removed and tinny. She was moving towards the sound when she tripped over her father. Although not proud of it, she was actually relieved that he might be dead. This was starting to feel like something out of a B-rated thriller.
"Maggie! Bobby's breathing… and the other guy too… but I can't get them to wake up!" Scared. Her brother was really scared. She didn't like it. Didn't like it at all. Wasn't much she could do about that yet though.
"Okay. That's good actually 'cause they're alive right? Keep trying to get someone on that thing, will ya? I get the feeling Dean and Cal'll want to know about all this." Though she had a strong feeling they probably already did.
Dennis was breathing too, though just barely. She didn't really know what had him hanging on to life except maybe he was just that stubbornly determined to get his hands on them. Jace started calling to somebody, anybody over the walkie talkie again and Maggie kept moving. She found the other one in the middle of the yard busted up and yet still somehow working.
She stood there, turning full circle, broken walkie talkie in hand and taking in the carnage all around her for the first time. The sky had begun to brighten and there was just enough light to be able to start making out what the shadowed shapes were.
The woman, Cal, was on the ground by the porch. Two small knives dug deep into either shoulder, wounds still trickling blood and a bump on the back of her head visible even from where Maggie stood a dozen or so feet away. Over to the right a ways were a very tall man with a beard and a shaggy mop of unkempt hair and a much smaller woman. They were lying in a sticky looking pool of goo that she could only hope wasn't blood. Another man with a hole in his chest (gunshot wound?), very obviously dead just on the edge of the cornfield where the stalks had been flattened and ripped right out of the ground.
She didn't see Dean though until she turned to her left. He was lying at a very odd angle, half on his side and propped up by something large behind him. He wasn't moving. His eyes were just barely open slits but he wasn't moving. Not even a muscle twitch and above everything else that alone had the power to scare the living daylights out of her. He had one arm outstretched towards another man who lay next to him. This last man was much older than Dean. Maggie noticed, as she inched her way cautiously closer, that there was a strong resemblance between the two. The older man had a salt and pepper beard and a huge blackened burn mark across his chest. It was just a guess but she was pretty sure the older guy was his dad.
She was kneeling at Dean's side trying to get up the nerve to touch him when she noticed the tear tracks on his cheeks and the way his barely open eyes left the older man's face momentarily, just long enough to look at her. Dean was alive, she realized. He was alive!
"Jace!" she screamed "Dude, run into the house and call 9-1-1! I found Dean. He needs a hospital." The kid didn't even blink. Just got to his feet and started running. That was one thing he'd always done and done well. He'd always been proud of the way he could run.
Dean tried to speak then, as if he'd just noticed her there; his voice sounding hoarse and raw as if he'd been screaming the whole night through. Who knew? He may have, she realized suddenly…but that didn't really matter right now did it?
"C-c-can't m-move. Fe-fell." Well it sure looked like it, didn't it?
"T'sokay. Jason's calling for an ambulance. It'll be okay soon."
"M'I th'only one..?" he closed his eyes, unwilling to show his fear to this little girl. Unwilling to acknowledge the tears still so close to the surface.
"Um, Bobby's breathing and the preacher guy too. Cal's in bad shape but I think she's alive too. There's a dead guy by the field over there… and a scary looking guy and a woman over by Cal who look like they might still be alive…" She didn't want to mention the older guy he was still reaching out to. Pretty sure he already knew that the man was gone.
There was a hitched sigh of relief that brought on a full body shudder. It was all he could do to contain the tears of sheer relief. Now though, now he had to move. Had to hide before the ambulances came. He had wings for God's sake. Wings too big and odd to be able to hide.
"Uh, dude? Are those… are those wings?" She'd just noticed them. Big wide beautiful wings, so black they almost shone blue in the early morning light. Beautiful but very obviously broken having taken the brunt of his weight when he fell back down to earth.
"Yeah…they kinda are." And they'd just started to throb, a discomfort that only added to the pain that already wracked his entire body.
"Are they supposed to…? I mean… they're…" she looked worried, and no wonder. Poor kid. But she was reaching out to touch them too and he wasn't sure that was such a good idea.
"They're what?" Wasn't much time left. There were sirens in the distance. Help was on the way.
"They're like… shrinking… and like… tucking themselves into your back dude. It's… really weird."
Well okay then. Maybe he didn't have to hide after all. Made sense though didn't it? He couldn't very well protect everybody looking like a freak show now could he?
She heard him mumble something about that 'stupid fairy' and how only that 'Casey dude' would have the guts to stick him with a set of wings before he passed out again.
The next couple of hours were nothing but a big blur of flashing lights and sterile rooms. There were just so many people to keep track of. First came the paramedics all in dark blues, swarming all over the farmhouse grounds. The cops arrived a few minutes later and then there were white, black and yellow uniforms to keep an eye on. Thank God Jason had thought to lock up the barn again. He may not have known what was inside, but he had a pretty good idea that Cal probably didn't want just anyone nosing around in there.
Later, at the hospital, time slowed to a crawl while they waited for someone to come tell them what the heck was going on. Nurses in pastel uniforms or covered in absurd cartoons pestered them with offers of food and drink. Sure, they were something of a distraction and a way to keep track of time but really the incessant interruptions were just a huge annoyance. Their appetites had disappeared, what with the fate of their futures hanging in the balance. Finally Maggie had to tell them that if they were going to keep refusing to let her have coffee they might as well just leave them the hell alone. They had no interest in talking to anyone but the doctor if he ever finally decided to get his head out of his ass long enough to come tell them how many of their friends had survived.
She might have shocked them, you know… just a little because they were left alone after that.
Sometime mid-afternoon a man in a suit came to speak with them. Jason recognized him from Children's Aid. The guy wasn't really that bad but he was on the enemy's team in the kid's eyes so they weren't really very cooperative. He wanted to know what had happened the night before and why they'd run from the foster homes. Maggie said nothing, preferring to stare him down with her most intimidating glare. Jason on the other hand, ever the mouthy one told him in no uncertain terms that he could stuff his 'nothing but kindness' act 'cause he wasn't saying a word unless Dean was there with them.
A strained smile and a lengthy moment adjusting his tie and the guy must've decided he'd be better off actually waiting for this 'Dean' guy because he left them alone too. They wouldn't see or hear from anyone else until much later that night.
Cal woke rather unpleasantly to a throbbing headache, sore ribs and a nasty fit of dry heaving somewhere around dinner time. Well, at least she assumed it was dinner from the god-awful smell of the meal tray on the table next to her. Could be they were trying to kill her too though (you just never knew what was in that damned hospital food) so the jury was still out on that one.
The night before was a jumbled, nasty mess in her head but there were a few things that stood out clearly. John's death was the first, and it had her worried about Dean. Franny bleeding out as she dragged her in the house was the second and that had her wondering if she'd lost yet another loved one to the hunt. She remembered having her own knives turned on her in mid flight and then getting slammed up against her own home. She could feel the stitches, seven of them on either side. So, judging by the symptoms it looked like she had a concussion and some ribs that were bruised to say the least. Her arms were throbbing from the damned cuts but her legs seemed just fine. All in all she was doing okay. Hey, she was gonna live, right? Which was way better than she'd been expecting the night before. So… now that she knew she was all good… it was time for her to find out what happened to the rest of their group.
Dennis, the unlucky s.o.b., was very medicated and occupying the other bed in Cal's semi-private trauma room. A little bit of pressure on that bullet hole in his thigh and a lot of 'insistent' questioning later he was still sticking to the story that he had no idea what had happened to everyone else. She figured he probably wasn't lying so maybe it was time to continue the search elsewhere in the hospital. Of course, not before making the friendly observation that Dennis was pretty darned lucky that bullet didn't hit a few inches to the right… and yeah, she wasn't above warning the sorry waste of space that if he ever came sniffing around again he wouldn't be so lucky. "Because dude, I have excellent aim. Unless of course I'm wrong and you're not as attached to your 'boys' as I'm assuming you are…" She left that sentence hanging between them, absolutely positive he'd make the right choice should this need of his to beat his kids return. Patting him one last time on his injured leg she made her point clear before leaving the room. You just don't mess with Cal O'Sulivan without suffering some kind of potentially mortal injury.
She was in the process of telling herself that no she most definitely was not dizzy and that yes she felt perfectly well enough to search the hospital for those damned elusive Winchesters… and you know, she'd almost managed to convince herself… until her legs gave out and she found herself flat on her back in the middle of the hallway.
Lucky for the nurses who came running that she wasn't anywhere near full strength… and also that the doctor on call remembered her from the ER a few years back. He was pretty thankful that this time she was suffering from a head injury (unlike the claw marks he'd had to sew up the last time) because she was a whole lot easier to sedate when she couldn't fight him off. Poor guy had more than a few difficult patients in his trauma room today. He'd be lucky if he didn't run out of tranquilizers before morning.
The big scruffy American with the broken leg was bad enough. He kept trying to take his leg out of traction and walk around on it like it hadn't just been broken in two places. The doc was still amazed they'd managed to reset it without having to resort to surgery. If he kept it up though, the operating table was exactly where he'd end up. Which was just the reason why they'd been feeding him mild sedatives with the pain killers: to keep him off that leg...
Then there was the preacher. He and 'broken leg guy' were apparently good friends. God only knew their foul language was the same. They'd never heard a man of the cloth swear so colorfully (in three different languages no less) over a broken rib and a disjointed shoulder. At least that one stayed in bed. Were it not for Pastor Jim, the guy with the broken leg who refused to give anyone his name probably would've refused his meds and then they'd be in some real trouble.
And as if having Caitlin O'Sulivan and the two Americans in his ward on his shift wasn't enough already… there were a half dozen or so police officers guarding a man in major violation of parole. Apparently this Dennis Desjardins guy was the man to cause their injuries in the first place.
So yeah, they were having an exciting night in the Ottawa General Hospital Trauma ward. Thankfully they'd been able to discharge the scary tall guy with all the hair after only a few hours. That one had been lucky, getting out of it with a sprained wrist and a mild concussion. Sam Klein had plenty of reason to be upset. His brother Dean was in Intensive Care because they couldn't get him to wake up although there was no visible sign of injury. He'd been comatose since the paramedics had arrived on the scene. That had been over fifteen hours earlier. His father was dead, had been since long before 9-1-1 had been alerted to the emergency… and as if he didn't have enough to deal with his fiancée was currently in a state of threatened miscarriage with lacerations to her abdomen from God only knew what. It was clear he'd gotten off easy on this one, at least physically. It was also quite clear that the giant bear of a man would do some serious damage if they failed to fix his loved ones.
He'd been scaring the ICU and Maternity nurses and orderlies into coming down to check on the two kids that the police had settled into Trauma's only free room. Sam had tried to see them himself before heading over to see Dean and Fran but there were cops at the door to that room too and they wouldn't let him in until the kids told them their version of what happened.
Discharging him had been a relief. Let him go terrorize the Intensive Care and Maternity Wards for awhile. They had their hands full already.
Sam was going insane. This had been the day from hell, no the week from hell…wait no, better make that the month from…or maybe it ought to be the year… oh, who was he trying to kid anyway? His whole life had been a big waking nightmare.
He was in hour…um… sixteen of 'The Longest Day of His Life'; a day that had begun when he'd opened his eyes in the ambulance on the way over to this place. He spent four hours strapped in to a gurney because they wouldn't let him move until they knew exactly what his injuries were. By hour five he was ready to kill someone if they didn't tell him what had happened to everybody. They finally got to him in hour six. Checked him out, wrapped his sprained wrist and ordered him to get some rest because of that mild concussion he'd received. Yeah, right. Like that was gonna happen.
They'd let him sit for a few minutes with Bobby and Jim and look in on Cal while she slept so at least he knew they were going to be okay. The cops wouldn't let him in to see the kids though. Not that it stopped him from strong arming the nurses into checking in on them and making sure they were okay.
Upstairs in the maternity ward Fran was drifting in and out of sleep. She'd survived, thank God…but things weren't looking so good for the baby. In fact, chances were pretty good that she was going to miscarry before the morning. He didn't really know how he felt about that yet, but they'd deal with it if that's what was going to happen. They were both alive and that was all that mattered. Together they could handle whatever happened next.
They wouldn't let him into the Intensive Care Unit at first. When Fran found out why Sam wouldn't leave her side to go check on his brother she shooed him away. "I'm fine." She'd said to him. "You're Dad just died for God's sake! You two need each other. So go over there and make them let you in." Sure enough, that's exactly what he did. Turns out he had a better grasp on those psychic powers than he'd thought. He'd been going back and forth between Dean and Fran ever since. That had been seven hours ago.
Seven hours was one hell of a long time.
The social worker caught up with Sam up in Fran's room and he had some cops in tow. For a minute there Sam thought that maybe they'd caught on to their fake identities. He had nightmarish visions of getting hauled off to jail and having to deal with international law. Of course, then the guy opened his mouth and said something about Margaret and Jason Desjardins and how they wouldn't talk to anyone unless Dean was there with them. Okay, so what was he supposed to do about it? Dean was comatose for God's sake!
"Well Mr. Klein, we were wondering if perhaps you might come down and see them. The sooner we get their statements the better. You see, I need to get them back to their foster homes…"
Fran was already out of bed, teetering where she stood on wobbly legs. "I'll go with you Sam. They've got to be scared out of their minds right now."
"No! No, you're not going anywhere." She'd miscarried. They'd lost the baby and after the beating she'd taken the night before she was in no shape to go anywhere. He was afraid he'd loose her too.
"The hell I'm not. Sam, the way you look right now? With the beard, the torn clothes and that death glare in you eyes? You're going to scare them even more than they probably already are." He was the reasonable Winchester, right? So reasoning with him, in theory, ought to work…right? Oh sure, in theory. Of course, reasonable or no Sam also had inherited the Winchester stubborn streak.
"No. You're in no shape to be running around. Get back into bed."
She was about to tear a strip out of him when the social worker surprised them both by bringing her a wheelchair to sit in. He shot a sympathetic look at Sam before explaining with a: "trust me sir, you're going to need all the reinforcements you can get dealing with those two."
And yeah, okay. Fine. He was outnumbered and Fran was coming whether he liked it or not… no way he was going to let this strange social worker guy push the chair though. That was his job.
It was just past midnight when the door to their room opened and someone other than a cop walked through it. The twin scowls on Maggie and Jason's faces when the social worker guy walked in again spoke volumes about what their life must've been like so far. There was satisfaction in seeing his disheveled suit and know that they were the reason he was still here at the hospital. They never did have much use for meddling adults, especially not ones who only pretended to really care about the people they were supposed to be helping.
So yeah, the social worker was back, but it was the tall guy behind him that caught Maggie's eye. Not just because of the fact he was pushing a woman in a wheelchair either. He was every bit as scary looking as he had been back at the farmhouse. You could barely see his face for the beard and the hair. He had kind eyes though, ones that gave the guy from Children's Aid dirty looks whenever looked away. Couldn't be that bad then, could he? She liked him already.
Still, the enemy was in their midst and there was just no way she was going to show weakness. She was staring down Suit Guy when the words came out.
"Dude over there doesn't look like a doctor and I don't see any coffee... or Dean."
"Young lady, you are sixteen years old. Children of your age do not drink coffee." His holier-than-thou attitude were like nails on chalkboard to Sam. Fran could feel him tensing behind her. That fragile strong front he'd been hanging on to wouldn't last much longer as strung out as he was. So then, now it was her turn to take care of things. Give him a break for a while.
"Hey Sam? Why I thought I saw a pot brewing at the nurses station, you want to see if you can charm a cup out of them for me?" Surprised would have been an understatement describing the looks she was getting all around. Sam's mumbled "you sure?" greeted by a nod before she turned to on Suit Guy.
"You know I would have thought that you of all people would recognize that sometimes it's best to pick your battles. Especially dealing with young people." The man just stared at her, unsure just how he should react to this new turn of events. Yeah, Maggie liked her too. Actually, she thought that maybe she liked her best. That's probably why when Fran extended a hand to her and introduced herself Maggie didn't hesitate to take it.
"I know you kid've been waiting a long time to find out how everyone is and that you're both probably ready to head home and crash, but the police won't let that happen until they get a statement."
Home. Yeah, they didn't have one of those did they? And besides, they told the cops, the nurses, the doctors and the Suit that they weren't saying anything without Dean around. So Maggie's next question has expected.
"Where's Dean?" A question they could hear clearly echoed on the other side of the door by another familiar female voice. An angry one. Apparently the meds had worn off already…and apparently she was feeling better because she'd made it all the way down the hall this time.
"Dean's in the ICU guys. He…he isn't awake yet."
"I wanna see him." Jason's this time. Very obviously needing his hero to be okay.
"I'm sorry hun, but they'll only let his brother Sam here in there to see him. Tell you what though… if there's something you want him to know you can pass it on to Sam and he'll make sure that he'll tell Dean what it is as soon as he opens his eyes…okay?" It was killing her to sit there and see the fear in his eyes.
"But… it's been a whole day. He shouldn't still be sleeping, should he?"
Fran winked conspiringly at them and leaned in to take Jason's hands in hers.
"There's something you're going to learn really quickly about Dean: he's as stubborn as they get. As far as the tests show he's perfectly fine; barely even has a scratch on him from last night. I'll bet he's just really enjoying his nap." That got a smile out of the boy. Oh, he'd had a taste of Winchester stubborn. That much was clear by the knowing look in his eyes.
She wanted to get these kids home. Not to the farmhouse. The yard there probably looked like a slaughter house right about now… there wasn't much room in her apartment but it was comfortable and safe. These kids really needed that right now and they weren't going to get it in foster care. Not if she had anything to say about it.
Sam walked through the door a minute later, as Maggie and Jason were telling the story of what they'd seen and done that morning. God bless that Winchester Charm because he had three mugs of coffee in hand and a can of Coke for Jason. As if Maggie wasn't already completely taken with him, the cup of coffee was enough to send her into a fit of puppy love for the guy. Even better was the fact that he intentionally neglected to bring a mug of the stuff for Suit Guy and his cop pals.
Maggie and Jason told the whole truth to a social worker for pretty much the first time in their young lives. They'd run away the day before even though Cal, Dean and Bobby had been nothing but kind to them. They'd figured it was probably too good to be true and that they wouldn't get to stay even if it was. They'd changed their minds at dinner time and turned back. When the storm hit they got lost so they didn't make it back until just before sunrise. That was when they found everyone in the yard and called 9-1-1. That was it, the whole thing in a nutshell.
Now there were four adults standing in the hallway on the other side of the door deciding their futures… and they'd thought the prospect of Dean never waking up had been scary? This was so much worse.
Sam was shouting, Fran was reasoning and it sounded like Cal was tossing her two cents in from the door to her room all the way down the hall. Finally Sam was the one to come in and get them. "Come on guys. We're taking Fran back upstairs and heading home to get some sleep." A warning look over his shoulder at Suit Guy, daring him to challenge his decision. Oh thank God!
Well, far be it for them to challenge a good thing when it was offered to them, they quietly followed Sam as he wheeled Fran back down the hall. Cal was still standing in the doorway of her room and as the foursome passed her she made a big show of leaning forward and flipping suit guy off. No one saw Sam's big grin, but everyone heard Maggie and Jason trying to hide their laughter behind him. Dean was going to be sorry he'd missed this.
Suit Guy (who would like everyone to know, for the record, that yes: he does have a name and it's Mr. Black thank you very much) had a feeling he'd be seeing a whole lot more of these people. If those Desjardins kids finally found someplace they wouldn't want to run away from though, it might work to his advantage. It would be a relief not to have to chase after them all the time anymore.
Dean woke up two days later. He said he didn't remember a damned thing about the night their father died. Sam saw right through him though. Oh, the mask he had on was convincing alright. All smiles, all the time as he joked and flirted with the nurses to piss Cal off for fun. But there was something in the depths of those seemingly dancing, mirth filled eyes that Sam had seen before. A haunted darkness that told Sam those memories were closer to the surface than Dean let on. His big brother was just hoping that by pretending they weren't there he wouldn't have to deal with them.
Confirming his suspicions, when Dean was discharged later that same day with a clean bill of health the first place he went was over to the Children's Aid office to visit Suit Guy. He was all about action and fixing the things he could when the things he couldn't change were out of his control. Before, when it had been just the two of them looking for their father he'd taken those feelings out on the Impala. This time there were two young lives he held the power to make better, and he was going to do just that.
Suit Guy (or Mr. Black, at least according to Fran. You know…whatever) had been to Fran's apartment to check on Maggie and Jason the day before. He'd mentioned that they seemed 'subdued' compared to earlier visits they'd had in foster care. Whatever the heck that meant. On the whole though they were happy. Sam had Maggie giggling over breakfast that first morning and Jason was actually checking his attitude with just a look from the older man. Looked like they might've actually found their place in the world.
Even still, you never really knew what you were going to get when you dealt with Family Services whether you were dealing with them in the US or Canada. So for Suit Guy to have been expecting the Winchester's visit (or rather, the Klein's according to their current ID's) and for him to have official paperwork drawn up and ready to have signed… well it was a bit of a shock. Almost a let down really that Dean wouldn't have the fight he'd been itching for. Except that he would have a bit of a fight, because Dennis and his wife still had to sign them in order to make Sam and Fran official guardians to the kids. Now that was a fight he was ready for.
A quick visit to Dennis' bedside (now all the way down the hall from Cal's because of a few unfortunate incidents over the past few days) and they had their first signature. Apparently he was scared of her, because all they had to do was mention her name and he was offering to give them whatever they wanted. Ah, that was his She-Ra alright.
Okay, so maybe it had a lot to do with the fact that Sam still hadn't shaved yet too… oh yeah, and the fact that Dean had brought his massive Bowie knife along for the ride probably helped a little. Who knew? All that really mattered was that they'd got him to sign on the dotted line…right? Right.
When he and Sam paid a visit to Mrs. Desjardins she was so drugged up that all they had to do was hand her the pen and the deed was done. Maggie and Jason now had an honest to God home with decent people who actually cared about whether or not their wants and needs were being met. All in a day's work, right?
Except that at the end of that work day Sam and Dean faced their father's cremation. Pastor Jim had been discharged the day before. He couldn't do any of the physical work in the shape that he was in… but he did take charge of giving John his final rites. Sam and Dean were going spread his ashes where their mother had been buried. Sentimental maybe, but if you asked them they'd tell you it just made sense that way.
John Winchester's truck went to Bobby Singer. Seemed fitting to the boys that he take it. Dean would never drive anything other than the Impala and Sam… well Sam preferred to ride with his brother anyway. He and Jim left as soon as the hospital discharged them too.
Fran was the first of the girls to come home. She and Sam were worried about Dean and how he'd react to finding out about the miscarriage. They tried to talk to him about it but he'd just change the subject or walk away. There was just no telling how it was he felt about the whole mess or why he preferred not to know.
Given that Maggie and Jason were staying with them permanently now Fran decided to take a portion of the profits she'd made on the bar over the years and used it to buy a beautiful little house with a big yard just down the street. Okay, so maybe 'little' was a bit of an understatement. It was a two storey bungalow with a finished basement, four bedrooms, a study and a huge country kitchen. Smaller than the O'Sulivan farm, yes… but big enough for them to expand their family should they eventually decide they wanted to try again. For now though, Maggie and Jason were enough.
Cal was in hospital for two straight weeks. Mostly because she was so busy trying to prove to everyone she was okay that she didn't get enough rest to make the concussion go away. The dizziness, headaches and exhaustion did eventually subside though and the doctors were more than happy to ship her off to Dean's care as soon as she was well enough to leave. She quickly realized that the Caveman, when worried, was often far worse than some overbearing, pill pushing, wanna-be doctor.
"GET TO FREAKING BED CAL!" They'd been at this particular argument for three days now. She was getting pretty pissed about it actually. Same time, everyday. She wasn't a kid for crying out loud. He couldn't just make her go to bed at nine o'clock at night. It was just plain insulting he'd even try to.
"Do I look like a six year old to you Dean?" Yep, there was that death glare… and Dean was giving as good as he got.
"The doc said you need lots of rest and sleep at a decent hour if you're going to beat this thing and you still haven't shaken that headache yet. You're popping that Advil stuff like its candy so don't even try to bullshit your way outta this. Get to bed!"
Testament as to how bad that headache of hers really was that all she managed as an answer was an elaborate eye roll.
"Fine Winchester. I'll let you win this one… but only because of the damned headache. You are going to owe me some serious sucking up in the morning. Oh, and chocolate." Because you just couldn't suck up properly unless it involved chocolate… at least not when it was Caitlin O'Sulivan you were sucking up to.
"Oh, and Dean? I don't want to be hearing any Led Zeppelin, Dark Side of the Moon playing while I'm trying to sleep… or I won't be held responsible for my actions. Wouldn't want to have to explain to the local authorities how one vinyl record might've 'accidentally' caught fire and set my corn field afire…would ya?"
Sure enough though a few hours later Dean was sitting on the front steps, staring out into the night… the record player in Cal's mother's sewing room with it's speakers in the window the lyrics to Pink Floyd's Breathe keeping him company as he tried to keep his inner demons at bay.
Cal crawled out of bed and to the open window and growled out something about a certain Winchester man having a death wish that made him chuckle quietly before turning the music down. One thing was for sure, he might be a lot screwed up over recent events… the loss of his Dad and the way things had gone with that demon…but there was comfort in the knowledge that things were finally starting to get back to normal. Or… you know… as normal as they'd ever get for Winchester and O'Sulivan.
Hope the ending was fitting to the rest of the story. Looking forward to reading your thoughts and reviews for it. Thanks for reading guys! Hope to see you all in my future postings for W vs O: Renegade : )