Author: Restive Nature
Genre: Crossover
Type: WiP
Shows: Dark Angel and Supernatural
Disclaimer: Neither show represented in this fiction belongs to me. Dark Angel is the product of Cameron/Eglee and Fox, whereas Supernatural is the product of Kripke and The CW. No profits are made from this fiction and it is intended for private enjoyment only.
Story Rating: PG-13 up to NC-17 for language, violence and sexual situations. (All higher rated material will be contained in its own chapter and clearly marked at the beginning of the chapter. PG versions of these chapters will also be available.)
Chapter Rating: PG-13 for language.
Timeline/ Spoilers: This story takes place predominantly in the Supernatural timeline. This means that the Dark Angel structure of post-pulse America does not fit in. The massive changes will be that Manticore is decades ahead of itself and the characters from DA are born much earlier than portrayed on the show. There is no Pulse occurring. Any other changes to the structures or episodes of the shows will be (hopefully) explained within the story itself.
Pairing: None at this time. (The pairing will become evident as the story progresses, but much further down the road.)
Summary: Change can be a choice and you never know where the road you choose to take will lead you.
When It Changes
Chapter Fifteen
A Slice Of Normal Pie
The day had dawned brightly. There wasn’t a single cloud in the sky. A warm, gentle breeze blew. And Max’s teeth were grinding away madly in the recesses of her mouth. She sighed as she glanced around once more. There was something off in this area. And she had learned enough over the past year that she’d been with the Winchester’s to trust this particular instinct. The only problem was, John and Dean weren’t there and Sam had blown her off to go play with some other kids.
The picnic that Pastor Jim had organized for the various families gathered together had been greeted enthusiastically enough by most. Those who weren’t interested certainly didn’t have to go. But pretty much everyone who was there decided to take a slice of normal pie. At least as close to normal as these ragtag groups of hunters could. Every single hunter and even some of the family members were packing some sort of weapon. And the picnic area and the lake beyond it had been scoped out. Then the festivities had begun.
Max wasn’t interested in eating hot dogs or listening to people trade horror stories. She wasn’t interested in the group of ladies that were catching up with one another while they knitted or crafted or tended young children. She wasn’t interested in kicking around a ball with the kids in her age group, which was what held Sammy’s interest.
What she was interested in doing was getting rid of this annoying prickling at the back of her neck.
The problem was that none of the adults here were familiar enough with her preternatural senses. If they knew, then she could trust that they’d take care of the problem. But that wasn’t even the biggest issue. The other problem was much different.
John was a Marine.
This was information that Max had gleaned long ago. But through careful questioning and subtle pushes to talk about that portion of his life, Max had ascertained that he knew nothing about the Army base in Wyoming. He had no suspicions about who she was, other than a runaway girl that he’d unofficially adopted. But now Max was thrust into this group of strangers. It didn’t help her at all that Sam knew quite a few of them or that John trusted them. It wasn’t even al the strangers, just a select few.
The ones who’d made it out of the service, only to embroil themselves in a different war. She had no idea how much these men and women might know about what was going on in the mountains of Gillette. And she wasn’t going to take the opportunity to drop any hints their way. John, though he kept to the Marine code he’d learned and embraced, was no longer in the service. Truthfully, that didn’t mean that he was completely out of that loop, but just kind of on the edges. Here though, were the Army brats that she had to watch out for. She truly was at a loss with no information to rely on other than what her own senses were telling her.
Ands that’s how it came to pass that Max was first on the scene when a water sprite made off with Sammy and another boy.
*****
Pastor Jim strode through the house; his determination to make it to the telephone without distraction would have been extremely obvious, had anyone been there to see him. He took the telephone from its base and after once more making sure that the coast was clear, dialed in a new number that he had committed to memory, the moment it had been given to him.
“Hello?” The voice was tired, careworn and so familiar.
“John?” Jim spoke calmly, even though he knew the fireworks about to explode. “It’s me.”
“Jim?” John’s voice went from tired to barely restrained panic in less than a second. “What happened?”
“The kids are fine,” Jim assured him immediately. He wanted that clear right from the start. He heard a soft, semi-relieved grunt on the other end of the line.
“But something still happened, didn’t it?” John sounded slightly amused now. “Otherwise, you wouldn’t have called.”
“True,” Jim smiled. He sighed himself, and launched into the explanation of the picnic disaster. “Sam and some of the other kids were kicking around the ball this afternoon, down by the lake.”
“Sam’s kind of soccer obsessed right now,” John chuckled ruefully. “Let me guess, something in the water got him?”
“Yeah,” Jim confirmed. “He and Tim Shewchuk’s boy, Mark, were both pulled under.”
“They’re both okay, aren’t they?” John demanded all business once more. His care and concern were centered on his children, but he never wanted anyone else to know the pain of losing a loved one, especially a parent losing a child.
“Mm-hmm,” Jim nodded, even though he knew John couldn’t see him.
“Who saved them?” John demanded to know.
“Well that’s the thing,” Jim sighed heavily. John waited for an answer that didn’t seem forthcoming. He made an impatient noise and Jim carefully broached the delicate subject. “Just how much do you know about that little girl you got?”
“Max?” John was surprised to hear the suspicion in Jim’s voice, yet not surprised in another way. “What did she do? Is she okay?”
“Oh she saved those boys all right,” Jim confirmed. “It’s just how she did it that’s got me wondering.”
“Why don’t you tell me the whole story,” John suggested in a crisp, no-nonsense voice, very similar to the one Pastor Jim used when needed.
“Well as I said, the kids were down by the lake,” Jim recounted. “Somebody, I don’t know who, kicked the ball out of bounds and it headed for the lake. Sam and Mark went after it, but it rolled into the water. Now John, we’d checked that lake out before and there was nothing there that we could tell.”
“But Max knew, didn’t she?” John surmised, surprising Jim.
“How did you know?”
“She’s done it before. Go on.”
“Well John, we were running down to the waterfront, the kids were yelling. Mark got pulled under first. He’s smaller than Sam. And Sammy was fighting it hard. And then Max…” Jim still wasn’t sure quite how it happened. “Well John she wasn’t anywhere around. And then she was just there. She showed up out of nowhere and yanked Sam out of the water. She threw him up onto the bank.”
“Max did?” John was surprised, knowing that Jim wouldn’t use those words unless that was exactly what Max had done. He hadn’t thought that his tiny girl could heft around Sammy’s larger form, much less throw him. But perhaps the strength had been fueled by fear and adrenaline. He knew of situations where that had happened. Hell, it had happened to him on occasion.
“But then she went after Mark,” Jim continued. John could tell by the lengthy pause that Jim was still running the information through his mind, trying to get it straight and make some sense of it. “John, she dove under the water, going after Mark. Me and some others went in too when she and Mark didn’t resurface.”
“What?” John was alarmed, even though Jim had assured him Max was well.
“John, we were in that water for over three minutes looking for them and the next thing I know, they’re coming up in the middle of the lake,” Jim’s voice reflected the astonishment that he still felt. “Considering that she dove for Mark before we even got to the water, she had to have been underwater for over five minutes! Now how on earth can anyone hold their breath underwater for five minutes, especially when they’re swimming and dragging a child to safety?” Jim sighed and rubbed at the tip of his nose. “And what’s more, when we got out to them, she was breathing for Mark, mouth to mouth, you know. And she wasn’t even fazed. She wasn’t panting or gasping for air.” He paused, waiting for some reaction from John.
It was a calmness that he wasn’t expecting. “What did Max say about it?”
“Not much,” Jim admitted. “Only that she’d been practicing holding her breath for longer increments ever since she was little. And that she’s a real strong swimmer.”
“That she is,” John agreed, knowing from witnessing her down at local outdoor swimming pools from time to time. “I think Jim,” John continued after a moment. He wanted to say this as carefully as possible. “I think that it was probably a combination of adrenaline, fear and level headedness. Max seems to have a good bead on where demons are. Some sixth sense or something.” He could imagine Jim nodding, which the man actually was. “She is a strong swimmer, like I said. Did she say if the sprite had dragged them out to the middle of the lake?”
“No she said she swam away from it,” Jim clarified. He inhaled deeply. “You know, she wasn’t exactly in the middle of the lake. But she and Mark were a good distance from the shore.”
John chuckled. “There you go then Jim. You just got too excited over this whole thing and your memory’s playing tricks on you.”
“Oh don’t pull that on me,” Jim growled. “My memory is as good as it ever was. But I suppose you could be right. I just didn’t look forward to having to explain to you how I promised I’d look after your kids and then this happens.”
“It would probably have happened if Dean and I had been there,” John stressed. “It’s not the first time the kids or I have gotten in the way of demons or ghouls.”
“Amen to that,” Jim smiled. “So, how’s the job going?”
“We’re about wrapped up,” John replied, easily shifting conversational gears. “Dean found the grave and we’re heading out as soon as it’s fully dark to salt and burn the bones.”
“Why didn’t you do it immediately?” Jim questioned.
“Funeral,” was the succinct reply. Jim nodded again. Talk turned to more mundane things and Jim never noticed as a pair of small feet crept away from the window, where a little figure had listened to the entire conversation with enhanced hearing.
*****
“Everything okay Dad?” Dean asked sleepily. The phone call had woken him up, but after John had received confirmation that Sam and Max were okay, he’d dozed off again, knowing that they had a long night ahead of them.
“Everything’s fine son,” John confirmed. He quickly explained all the pertinent details to his son. And even though he didn’t say so, Dean saw immediately that Pastor Jim had raised some valid concerns about Max, no matter what John might have indicated to the contrary.
“You know, it might be just like you said Dad,” he shrugged. “Adrenaline can do amazing things for a body. In fact, Max has probably crashed and is sleeping like the dead, right now.” Little did he know that that was the furthest thing from Max’s mind right then.
John nodded ad then glanced at his watch. They wouldn’t be able to solve anything right then. Sundown would be soon and they’d be on their way. “Feel like getting some grub?”
“Why not?” Dean grinned. He pushed himself off the bed and pulled his jean jacket off the opened weapons bag. They had John’s bag already in the car. Dean zipped up the bag and hefted it to his shoulder. They probably wouldn’t be returning to the hotel room, so it made sense to pack the stuff out to the car.
Neither man said much over dinner. One, for fear of getting caught discussing paranormal matters and be thought of as nuts. Two, there wasn’t really anything to discuss. They both knew very well what they were doing and worked well together.
*****
They’d been digging for nearly two hours, getting more disgruntled as time went on. Dean’s quips about bodies ‘six feet under’ were now more of a complaint. Aside from the occasional grunt and the sound of metal sliding through rock and debris, the night was quiet. Until John’s cell phone rang, startling them both. Dean was so surprised; he whirled around, until he recognized the familiar chirp of technology.
John was surprised himself. He’d only given this new cell phone number to one person, Pastor Jim. And checking the screen, that’s who the call was from. But the familiar little voice on the other end of the line wasn’t what he expected.
“Max?” he glanced worriedly at Dean, who returned the look. “How did you get this number?”
“I watched Pastor Jim punch it in,” Max lied. There was no need to reveal to John that she’d used supersensitive hearing to accentuate the beep tones that Jim used.
“You were spying on him?” John demanded. Dean smirked, knowing that Max was in for a talking to. Dean never liked being on the receiving end of his father’s displeasure, but he sure didn’t mind when his dad gave it to someone else. Especially one of his sibling’s.
“I was not,” Max denied hotly. “If he’d looked, he would have seen me standing right there!” Of course Max didn’t designate where the there was. It wasn’t her fault that Jim hadn’t looked out his window.
The indignation in her voice knocked the wind out of his anger. “What did you need Max?”
Max decided to get right on with it. “When are you guys coming back?” she demanded, though her voice was off. John sighed. He knew when they’d driven off that Max didn’t want to stay behind. But he’d felt that the time with other people would be good for her. He knew that Sam was eagerly looking forward to it. He supposed, with the look of defeat and abandonment he’d seen in his rearview mirror as he and Dean had pulled away, he should be glad that she hadn’t taken off again.
“Well, we have to finish robbing this grave,” he enumerated for her, “then salt and burn the bones. We’ll check to make sure that got it and then we’ll be on our way back.”
“So tomorrow then?”
John chuckled. “Yes Max, tomorrow, if all is good here. If not we might be a few more days.”
“But salting and burning should do it?” she demanded, trying to pin him down. Max knew from experience that if John said something definitive then he’d back those words up.
“Do you really miss us that much?” John smiled into the phone. There was a warmth spreading through his chest that had nothing to do with the physical exertion of the last few hours.
“No,” Max whispered. “Well yeah. I mean of course we miss you guys. It’s just…”
“What’s going on?” John demanded, alert to his daughter’s tendency to bluntness. This wishy-washy crap was not her nature.
“Well,” she hesitantly tried again. She really didn’t want John to be offended. “I just, don’t really know anybody.”
“That was the point of you staying behind,” John reminded her gruffly. “So you could meet new people.”
“Well…”
“Let me talk to her Dad,” Dean grunted, holding out his hand for the phone, while he rested his forearm on the tip of his shovel handle. John rolled his eyes. Somehow over the year that Max had been with them, she and Dean had formed an unholy alliance. Somehow, Dean just got her. He knew what to say to her to get her to admit what was bothering her. It shouldn’t have surprised him though. Each child had their strengths. Dean’s was his flirtatious manner and amazing good looks. Not that any of the children were ugly. It was just that Sam managed a lost puppy dog look that had older ladies melting over him. And Max, well her blunt announcements, coupled with the innocent little face made people want to shelter her from ever realizing just what the little girl was saying. After a moment’s hesitation, he handed the cell over to Dean.
“Hey Max!” he said excitedly, obviously glad for a short break. “Is it true you threw Sam out of the water?”
“Hey Dean,” she grinned. She knew her big brother was going to relish this.
“’Cause if you did, kudos,” Dean continued. “I can’t believe you managed to get your arms around that pudge of his.”
“Actually I didn’t,” Max corrected him, then realized how bad that made Sam’s baby fat look. “I mean, I didn’t have time to. I just kind of grabbed his belt with one hand and threw.”
“Oh man,” Dean was truly astounded. That admission just made Max all that much cooler in his estimation. Then Max laughed. “What? What is it?”
“Actually Sammy’s kind of pissed at me,” Max admitted. Dean waited to hear what she’d accomplished in his absence. Her voice was faint with uncertainty, but there was a hint of amusement there too. “See, when I grabbed him, I kind of got more than his pants.”
“Oh oh,” Dean cackled, knowing precisely what she meant. “You wedgied him!”
“Almost atomic,” she purred. Dean was laughing so hard at the thought of the look on Sammy’s face when she did that. Especially in front of other people. Then Max was serious again. “But now he’s not talking to me.”
With that admission, Dean thought he might have the crux of the problem. “And you don’t know any of the other kids?” He heard her soft grunt of assent. “And I bet you really don’t feel like hanging out with the old fogy’s, huh?” Dean felt a light slap on his arm and glanced at his father, giving him a teasing grin. John glared at him for a moment, before going back to digging, muttering ‘old fogy, my ass’, under his breath. Dean grinned more widely.
“No,” Max was glad to finally be able to get this off her chest. “All they wanna do is talk about old wars and police actions and political stuff. And making babies, and what tastes good in a pie and sewing.”
“Woah! Woah there!” Dean shouted, his mind fixing on one thing. “Who’s been talking to my baby sister about making babies?” he demanded heatedly. John’s head shot up and he stared intently at his son.
“No one,” Max giggled. After her health classes the previous year, she knew some of what was entailed in procreation. “But the women were talking to each other.”
“Oh, that’s okay,” Dean relented. “Just as long as some pimply faced kid isn’t trying to lure you behind a woodshed.” John relaxed and again began digging.
“I’d kick his butt,” Max replied drolly. And she would have.
“Oh speaking of,” Dean recalled something. “Isn’t the martial arts seminar tomorrow?”
“Yeah,” Max sighed. “But I don’t need it.”
“Hey now, don’t say that,” Dean whined. “I love those seminars.”
“Then why aren’t you here for it?” Max demanded, suddenly petulant. But then she was immediately repentant. “I’m sorry. I know you guys had to take this job.”
“Damn right we did,” Dean agreed easily. He knew that Max wasn’t upset with him. “So I’ll tell you what you do. Tomorrow morning, get up, stuff your face, march into that seminar and kick all the other kids’ butts. Including Sammy’s.”
“I can’t.”
“Yes you can Max,” Dean encouraged her. It had been a long time since she’d been so shy.
“No really I can’t,” she chuckled. “Sam took his name off the list.”
That caused Dean’s eyebrows to shoot up. “Uh oh,” he muttered. “Dad’s not gonna like that.” John glanced up again, slightly irritated at the constant interruptions to his rhythm. Dean dropped the phone away from his mouth and repeated to his father what Max had just said to him. John shrugged and went back to digging.
“Tell Max to tell Sammy boy that I said to take the class or I’ll be kicking butt,” he said loudly. Dean grinned and pulled the phone back up to his mouth.
“Did you hear that?” he asked of Max, but her giggling confirmed that she did. “But seriously Max. Take the class, even if you think you don’t need it. If nothing else, it’ll give you something to do while you wait for us. You won’t have to sit with the old goats, or listen to any more Holly Homemaker shit.”
“Dean! Language!”
“Sorry sir!”
“I guess that’d be okay,” Max sighed, giving in.
“So what are you gonna do tomorrow?” Dean pushed.
“I’m gonna get up.”
“Yeah.”
“And stuff my face,” she giggled again.
“And then what?”
“Then I’m gonna kick the other kids butts,” Max recounted.
“That’s my girl,” Dean crowed. “I’ll tell you what; the old man’s starting to fade here.” He deftly turned his back on the momentary glare from his sire and continued talking. “I’ll call you once we’re on our way, okay?”
“Okay,” Max sighed. “Say goodbye to Dad for me.”
“Will do kiddo.” Dean hung up the phone and tossed the phone to the bag near his feet.
“Faded huh?” John grunted as he threw another pile of dirt out of the hole. “Get your ass over here and I’ll show you who’s faded!” Dean grinned and jumped back into the hole.
“Yes sir!”
*****
The next morning, reports of the strange disturbances plaguing the town had been reported as having suddenly ceased shortly after midnight. Talk ambled around town, as it has a way of doing, stopping in at coffee shops, diners, the local barber shop, and all places where the entity known as gossip resided. At once such diner, John and Dean were enjoying not only their breakfast, but the far-fetched, at least to them, theories blazing around about what had caused the disturbances. Dean’s favorite by far was that it had been the weather. John was more inclined to go with troubled teens acting out their Gothic fantasies. That one was much more believable. Though if it held, then he was sure that there was a pack of teens somewhere in this town, already targeted for reprimands.
He waited patiently for Dean to finish mopping up his egg yolk with the last of his toast. He took one last swallow of coffee and threw the paper napkin he held onto his plate. “Ready to get out of here?” Dean nodded, also finishing his coffee. John exited the booth they had chosen and moved to the counter to pay the bill. Dean grabbed up some sugar packets, stuffing them in his jacket. He knew his father wouldn’t comment, because he did the same thing. Every little bit helped.
They crossed the parking lot to the Impala and John threw Dean the keys, also while fishing out his cell phone. They got in the car and Dean started the engine while John dialed the number to Jim’s place.
“Hello?” Jim’s voice was bright and alert, as it usually was at all hours of the day.
“Jim, it’s John,” he announced unnecessarily. “How’s it going?”
“Oh John, not bad,” Jim replied. “What’s up?”
“I was wondering if you could get Max for me,” John asked. “Dean promised her last night that we’d call to let her and Sam know when we were headed back.”
“Yeah, sure thing,” Jim agreed, and then paused. “Wait. Last night?” John grinned, knowing that it would give his friend pause.
“That’s when it was,” John grinned, loving getting the better of his old friend. “I also thought I asked you to keep this number private.”
“I did!” Jim protested. “I didn’t tell anyone.”
“Well, maybe not told,” John teased. He could see Dean grinning out of the corner of his eye. “But Max sure as hell saw you.”
“She saw me?” Jim demanded. “But how? I checked…”
“Apparently not well enough,” John chided. “Sounds to me like you’re slipping, old timer.”
“I-!” Jim was at a loss for words. He knew very well that he’d checked before dialing John’s cell. He’d even placed a few other calls immediately after so someone couldn’t come along and hit redial to find John.
“It’s okay,” John relented. “Just as long as it was one of my kids.”
“But I still can’t see how she did it,” Jim protested. “I checked.”
“Is she around?” John reiterated. “You can ask her yourself.”
“I- yeah, she’s around,” Jim remembered. “She and the other kids just finished breakfast. We’re starting the seminar soon.”
“Can you get her for me?”
“Sure,” Jim agreed. “I’ll call you back.”
“Or Max can,” John couldn’t resist one more dig. He wasn’t sure, but he thought he heard a very offensive word as the phone was hung up. He let out a bark of laughter and Dean answered with his own, knowing very well what had his father so amused.
“So ol’ Pastor Jim’s finally losing it?” he queried. John shook his head.
“Not at all,” John shrugged. “But sometimes you got to get your kicks when you can.”
“Right on.”
They drove on in silence, since John didn’t feel like letting Dean listen to any of his punk rock right then. Dean didn’t mind, he was planning on waiting until after Max called them anyway. What was the point of turning on some good tunes only to have to turn them back off right away? And sure enough, Max didn’t disappoint. She called back almost immediately.
“Hey Max,” John greeted her. “Just lettin’ you know we’re on our way. We should be back by this afternoon.”
“Okay,” Max chuckled. “I kind of figured that out for myself.”
“I know, but Dean promised he’d call and he’s busy driving right now,” John explained. “So, are you looking forward to the martial arts seminar?”
“Yeah,” she sounded almost bored. “Hang on.” John waited for a few moments before she came back on the line. “Sorry,” Max apologized. “Lindsey asked me a question.”
“Who’s Lindsey?” John tried to remember someone by that name but he was drawing a blank.
“Matt Shewchuck’s sister,” Max told him. “She asked me to sit with her at breakfast, last night.”
“Finally made a friend, huh?” John smiled, glad that she was at last at ease.
“Yeah, she wanted to thank me for saving Matt yesterday,” Max said. “Even though he’s an annoying little rodent. Her words, not mine!” she exclaimed before John could berate her. “We ended up talking about how annoying brothers can be.”
“And did you do anything else?” John wondered. It was nice to have this mundane reality to fall into once in a while. It helped give him a time out, a moment to recharge his batteries and let go of the fierceness once in a while. It terrified him that maybe one day, this business; this revenge would consume him so completely, as he’d seen it do to others in their line of business.
“We had hot chocolate,” Max recounted, her voice light and happy. “And then we got into a pillow fight. Then we watched some movies with Owen and Marianna.” There was a muffled noise. “Oh, Sam wants to talk to you.”
“Put him on sweetie.” He waited for Sam to take the phone.
“Dad?” John was surprised at how much whine he could already hear in Sam’s tone. “Do I really have to take this seminar?”
“Yes Sam, you really have to,” he answered sternly. He continued, heading off Sam’s put-out protest. “Before you even start that, because I said so, because I’m your father and because it’s for your own good! Understand?”
“Yeah,” Sam mumbled. There was just something about his attitude, his tone that snapped at John. It was almost verging on disrespect and it angered him much more than anything else Sam could ever do.
“I said do you understand, Sam!” his voice mustered all of the steel edge of anger that coursed through him and he wasn’t surprised to notice Dean snapping to attention behind the wheel. At least his eldest responded to the authoritative ring in his command.
“Yes sir!”
Once he had Sam’s capitulation, he allowed himself to soften once more. “Look Sam-!” he began, but his boy cut him off.
“We have to go Dad,” Sam interjected quickly, his voice quavering slightly. “Bye.” John heard the distinctive click of the phone in his ear and with a sigh, turned off the cell phone. He slid it back into his jacket pocket and leaned back against his seat. He had the nauseating feeling that another war was about to start on his home front. One that he wasn’t sure he could win.
After another brief pit stop, Dean and John pulled into the parking lot of the city park, the place where Jim Murphy rented out and arranged hunting seminars. Everyone knew that although Jim’s church was a safe place to be, the Pastor couldn’t always explain to the more unenlightened members of his church, just what they were up to. Hence the need to find other places to explore the depths of their jobs. Dean and John grabbed their bags, since they never knew what to expect exactly and it didn’t hurt to be prepared, and headed towards the largest congregation of people.
This park was ideally suited to Jim’s purposes. There was a wooded area that partially surrounded a lake. But all along the waterfront, gazebos and natural amphitheaters had been set up. People could gather to talk about weapons, curses, exorcisms and be able to see anything coming from a long distance off. And since the park was regularly used for such things as birthday parties, graduation celebrations and picnics, certain spaces had to be rented out or reserved. And once they were, most townspeople were good about not disturbing the area, since it was the height of rudeness to crash someone else’s party. Not that it hadn’t happened occasionally. But the womenfolk who weren’t hunters, just married to them, were getting awfully good at distracting those folks.
John waved at a few people he knew, but ignored their shouts to join them. No one took offense, knowing that John would want to check on his kids first. That too was established routine. So they simply offered, then turned back to continue what they were doing as John passed them by.
They headed deeper into the woods, to the west of the lake, where there was a clearing. That’s where the seminars would be taking place. If the weather was inclement, then Jim usually allowed the seminars in the church basement. But as they neared the clearing, the sound of bodies thudding against one another was heard. There were shouts of encouragement growing clearer as well. Finally, they stepped out of the shady woods, into the slightly filtered light shining through the sky.
John scanned the crowds, sectioned off into three groups. It looked to him as if the beginner’s class had some new additions this year, none that he recognized, even though there were a few adults there. That group was closest to where he and Dean had come out. His eyes moved onto the next group.
“There’s Sammy,” Dean announced. He gestured and John could see Sam’s tow-colored head, as he sat among a group of boys, paying minimal attention to the instructor. “I don’t see Max, though.”
“Neither do I,” John grunted. To be sure, he continued scanning the other crowd, the advanced class, which comprised of a few adults. They were moving around the demonstration that was going on for the beginners, heading towards Sam. He should know where Max was at.
Both men tried to skirt as many kids as they could, but in the end, they had to walk in front of a few to reach Sam. He glanced up behind him, just before they reached him and a grin broke out on his face.
“Finally,” he grunted in obvious relief. He made to jump to his feet, but John motioned him to stay put as he hunkered down beside the boy, unwilling to disrupt the instructor. Dean followed suit. Sam leaned close to his father. “Can we go then?”
John shook his head. He knew Sam wasn’t eager for the classes that he insisted upon, but he figured that at this point, the boy should know better than to even ask. “Where’s Max?” John asked quietly. Sam’s eyes grew dark and John thought he saw a flash of something. Anger? Jealousy perhaps? The younger boy jerked his head towards the advanced group and turning, John could just make out Max’s slight form wedged between some adults. From the direction they’d waked in at, both John and Dean had missed seeing her.
“She’s in advanced already?” Dean asked with a low whistle. It had taken him some years to attain that level and he’d only passed the instructor’s final test two summers before, though he had encouraged Dean to continue working on the moves.
“Yeah,” Sammy admitted petulantly. “They started her in beginners, but it took like five minutes and she had Mrs. Gambon on her butt.” Dean smiled; proud that Max hadn’t exaggerated her accomplishments. He made a slight gesture with his hand.
“I’m gonna go check on how she’s doing,” he whispered to his father. He moved swiftly and silently away from them. John, although he wanted to check on Max too, thought that Sam might take his leaving as an offense, or an excuse to leave the group as well. Besides, he could see Max from where he was at.
Since the instructor, Alex Cardston for the intermediate’s, was simply talking and demonstrating things that John already knew; he let his eyes follow his eldest son. Although Dean tried, he was unable to sneak up on Max. The little girl twisted around when he was within five feet of her vicinity and a huge grin broke out on her face. Mindful of the talking instructor, Mr. Lang for the advanced group, she simply scooted to the side and waved for Dean to join her. They whispered together for a moment and Max leaned back and waved at John. John returned her wave with a small salute, and then turned his attention back to Alex. He wondered if he was going to get to see either child in action, since he wanted to evaluate their skills for himself.
It didn’t take long for Lang to see that Dean had joined them. He welcomed his old student back with a few choice jokes. Most everyone in that class knew or knew of Dean Winchester, though some hadn’t yet made the connection when Max had announced her surname. There were some quick murmurs about the hunt John and Dean had completed and he confirmed for them that it was successful. There were congratulations and then the class continued.
Towards the end, Lang announced that the advanced class would be demonstrating the moves they’d learned that day, for the beginner’s class. Sort of like encouragement for what those people would learn down the road if they chose to hang in there and stick to it. He even asked Dean if he’d like to participate, which Dean, never one for giving up an opportunity for showing off, accepted.
And then John and Sam made their way over. Sam was still looking disgruntled and John mulish. Dean and Max sensed immediately that there had been a few harsh words between them. But Martin Lang dispelled that mood, at least on John’s part with his swift praise of Max.
“Hey John! How the hell are you?” he greeted, holding out his hand. John shook it and nodded.
“Just fine,” he answered. He took his hand away and held out his arm to give Max a hug, to which she seemed to be squeezing him a little harder than usual. It seemed she really had missed him and Dean. He couldn’t say the same for Sammy. “So how’d Max do?”
“Honestly,” Martin paused. He had been a teacher, both of martial arts and high school physical education, before his brother had succumbed to the mischief of a poltergeist. And now, as then, he was slow to praise, rather wanting to always encourage his students to go further, try harder. But when praise was due, he couldn’t deny it. “Max is the most naturally gifted student I’ve seen in my life.”
Hey,” Dean protested mockingly, even though most of them knew how hard he’d had to work at first to get through Martin’s grueling sessions. “Even better than me?” he demanded teasingly. Martin smiled and nodded. He looked down at the girl, who didn’t seem to be paying any attention.
“She doesn’t need my class John,” he told him truthfully. “Not only does she know the moves, but she was able to improvise her way out of situations, using her opponent’s weaknesses and in some cases, their strengths against them. And nothing I said seemed to ruffle her feathers. She definitely was keeping a cool head while she was fighting.”
John, who succumbed to the same line of reasoning that Martin did on teaching, just nodded. “That’s great to hear. But there is a difference between fighting in a controlled environment and fighting for your life.”
“That’s very true,” Martin agreed. He’d said the same thing to all his classes.
“Actually, there’s no such thing as a controlled environment,” Max interjected, proving that she was very much aware of the topic of conversation.
Martin, intrigued by the child that seemed way too advanced for her age, slouched down a little to look Max in her eyes. “What do you mean by that?”
“Exactly what I said,” Max declared with an impish grin. “Even in the classroom setting, like you had, you didn’t have control,” Max pointed out. “The only reason that nothing bad happened, was because each person participating made an active choice to confine themselves to the rules you presented before the fighting started.” Both Martin and John were nodding. Martin made a rolling motion with one hand, indicating that she should go on. “As soon as one person was pushed far enough, they’d begin reacting, instead of acting. When you react, the parameters of your choices begin to change, influenced by emotion, mindset and other things. That’s when things get ‘out of control’.” She made air quotes as she said the last.
“So if you were in a real fight,” Martin asked, “what would you do? How would you try to remain in the parameters I set up for you?”
“First of all,” Max drawled, “I wouldn’t get into a situation where the rules were set in stone. Things happen, things change and I have to be ready to roll with the punches. You have to know how you’re going to react in any given situation. And then that way, if a situation presents itself, you won’t have to stop and think things out. When the parameters change, you automatically change with them.”
“So like if you’re fighting one guy,” Dean offered up an example, “you’d fight in one style, but if two other guys with weapons showed up, you need to use a different style?”
Max half shrugged. “It’s not really about styles. It’s like, if I’m fighting a single guy and then a guy with a knife shows up, I know that I have some time to work it if he’s in front of me. If he comes in behind me, he needs to be dealt with immediately. And then if another guy comes in and he has a gun, then I’d want to use the first guy as a shield. And then depending on what’s around me, find a weapon of my own. And if another guy shows up,” she continued, but John held up his hands, a wry grin on his face.
“That’s a lot of guys,” he sighed. “But I think we understand what you’re saying. Stay fluid.” Max nodded.
“But you know,” Sammy finally spoke up, “it’s not like your going to be attacked by a gang of street thugs,” he pointed out. Martin was already shaking his head.
“In this day and age, you never know,” he groused.
“Yeah, but with Dad and Dean around, who’s going to attack us kids?” he demanded.
“They aren’t always around Sam,” Max pointed out quietly. John and Dean glanced at one another, both hearing the disappointment in Max’s voice still over being left behind. John wondered just how long Max would hold a grudge about this. And why he was worrying it like a dog with a bone. Max was just going to have to face facts and see that there were times when they couldn’t always be together.
“You know,” Martin, not really oblivious to the undercurrents, but more than willing to move past them, was thoughtful. “That is an element of fighting that I should broach. When your outnumbered, what to do.” He turned to Max. “Is that something you ever worked on before? In your previous classes, I mean?”
“All the time sir,” she answered with a small grin.
“Maybe we could make that part of the demonstration,” Martin mused. Something for the other advanced members to look forward to.” He turned to John. “If you don’t mind, that is.”
“If Max is up to it, then certainly,” John allowed. He looked down at Max, but her face was lowered. He nudged at her shoulder and she gave a short, jerky nod. He knew that he’d have to talk to her later. Sammy however, was not so timid about making his voice heard in this instance.
“But I thought we were leaving tonight?” he sounded eager, yet disappointed. John turned to his son.
“Sam, we drove like bats outta hell to get to that job. We spent all night at it, barely got any sleep, and then drove back here. I’d like at least one night to relax, as much as I can before we take off again, okay?” It wasn’t really a question and Sam knew that. But the boy nodded anyway.
“Well good,” Martin clapped one hand on John’s shoulder. “I hear we’ve got spare ribs for dinner tonight.”
Dinner was indeed spare ribs and potato salad and all the typical accoutrements that went with such a dinner to feed so many people. John and his family had found a small table to sit at and though there were only four chairs, people who’d already finished eating, would drag a chair over to talk to John for a few minutes.
In truth John was enjoying himself. The food was good, the company comfortable and nothing seemed to be going to bother them this night. After dinner, there were the different demonstrations from the martial arts classes and then people would head off to find their beds, wherever that ended up being. John knew that they had the option of pitching a tent or finding a motel, and Jim had offered a room in his small parsonage, adjacent to the church. It was such a nice night out that John was seriously considering the tent option.
But as all was well with John, the children were not so content. Sam was still upset with his father for some imagined transgression. Max was alternating between chatty and silent. And Dean was trying to figure out what the hell was going on with his siblings. He knew that he’d kick Sammy’s butt later, for acting like such a little brat. And Max, he put her behavior down to that hopeless shyness that seemed to take hold whenever a newcomer was in her vicinity. He wasn’t sure that there was anything that anyone could do about it. But he would have thought that after a year living with them, she would have felt more secure about things. But that obviously wasn’t so.
And then things got turned on their head. Another hunter, Dean couldn’t quite recall his name, had come up to talk to John about an old job. He’d encountered something similar and had wanted to know if John knew a better way of handling the spirit. Before they got heavily into the discussion, John had introduced the children. And Dean noticed that Max was completely at ease with the guy. He wondered if she’d met him earlier, but their manner seemed to indicate that they hadn’t.
So Dean spent the rest of the meal and desultory conversations watching her. Sometimes, more often than not, she’d freeze up. And Dean was wracking his brain trying to figure out what the catalyst was for her behavior. It was only when a younger man, on leave from his first tour of duty overseas, stopped by the table, still in his fatigues, did Dean realize how it all came together. He could almost see Max shrinking in her chair, trying desperately not to be noticed by this guy. It flashed in his brain. Every single person that Max had shied away from had some sort of military background or connection.
Dean turned his eyes to his little sister. She was resolutely avoiding contact. It finally made sense, her behavior, now. He remembered that she had once told him that her family was all Army. How terrified she must be that maybe someone would recognize her. That maybe someone, feeling that old loyalty to a unit member, ignoring a child’s accusations, would send her back to that monster of a father. He wasn’t sure that she had a legitimate cause for worry around these people, but looking at it from her point of view, knew that she would worry. Dean knew himself that fear wasn’t rational.
“Hey Max,” he whispered, poking her in the shoulder. “Why don’t we go see if Martin needs a hand setting anything up?” Her head shot up so fast and she was nodding before Dean had even finished the question. He smiled and pushed his chair away from the table. John stopped in mid sentence and looked enquiringly at his son. “We’re gonna go help set up,” he informed his father, and then turned to his brother. There was no time like the present for that butt kicking that Sam seemed to need. “Come on Sam.”
Sam’s eyes darted back and forth between his father and his brother. He didn’t want to stay with his father right then, but he saw something flash in Dean’s eyes and he didn’t want to go with his brother either.
But at least with Max there it would be the lesser of two evils. If Sam was quick, he could abate whatever Dean was pissed off about. He stood and skirted around the table, leaving his father to talk. The kids hurried back through the woods, not quite needing flashlights yet, though it was darker now in the trees than it had been earlier. There were floodlights set up in the clearing and the light of those coming on beckoned them forward. But just as they were about to break through the canopy of foliage, Dean gestured for Max to go on. She glanced at Sam, shrugged and continued walking. Sam sighed.
“What?” he demanded of his older brother.
Dean didn’t waste any time. “What the ell’s the matter with you? I understand Max giving us some grief, but what the hell is up with you?”
“What?” Sam felt his only option, like any other teenaged boy was to go on the attack. “Max gets to be pissy but I don’t? She’s the one that signed up for the stupid course. I didn’t. Dad made me. He never listens to me Dean. He just makes me do what he wants and then tells me all that crap about it being for my own good!”
Dean just lifted one eyebrow, crossing his arms, his hips shifting with the indignance he felt on his father’s behalf. “That’s because it really is for your own good,” he defended heatedly. “You heard us earlier. Do you really want to be snatched by someone or attacked and have no way of defending yourself. Even if Dad and I are with you. What if something happens to us and you’re the only one left?”
“And what about Max?” Sam demanded, his own arms crossing. “Surely the little golden girl will save us all.”
“Are you still pissed about that?” Dean demanded incredulously. Yeah, he could see where the pride might be stung by being saved by a younger child. Maybe even because Max was a girl. “Damn it Sammy, you should be down on your knees thanking God that Max was there! From what Pastor Jim said, everyone else was too far away. You and that kid could have drowned!”
The words seemed to take some of the steam from Sam’s anger. He seemed to deflate a bit and his arms dropped to his sides. “I know,” he whispered brokenly. “It’s just…”
“Just what Sam?” Dean sighed, trying to soften his tone. Whatever happened, he couldn’t stay mad at his brother forever.
“We were just, kicking the ball around,” Sam frowned. “And then that was happening. It was so freaky. To be so normal and then having that thing shoved in my face.”
“We’re not normal Sam,” Dean pointed out quietly. Sam glanced away, looking out at the people starting to gather in the clearing.
“But why can’t we be?” Sam protested. “Bad things happen to other people all the time, but they go on living their lives. They don’t live for revenge.”
“You think that that is what Dad’s doing?” Dean asked, any hint of jocularity gone from his features. His hazel eyes bored straight into Sammy’s. “You think that after all we’ve seen, and all the stuff that Dad knows about, that it’s just vengeance for him?”
“Isn’t it?” Sam demanded, a hint of uncertainty tingeing his voice.
“I can’t lie,” Dean sighed. “It’s part of it. But Sammy, this is who Dad was before that damn thing took Mom. Why do you think he became a Marine? ‘Cause he looks good in a uniform? ‘Cause he thought what a perfect way to catch the babes?” Sam smirked at that thought. “No Sam, Dad just needs to help people. And there are tons of policemen, firemen and military types out there. But not so many who know the truth, like we do. And it’s a real threat.”
“I know that Dean,” Sam pouted. “It’s just…” he trailed off again, unable to explain the conflict gnawing at his mind. But Dean, smart big brother that he was, knew exactly what Sammy needed. He uncrossed his arms, taking a half step forward. He wrapped one arm around his little brother and tugged him forward.
“I know kid,” he sighed. “Just take things as they come, okay?” Sam nodded and they let the matter drop.
Chapter Sixteen
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