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: If you don’t know after this chapter…
Summary: Change can be a choice and you never know where the road you choose to take will lead you.
When It Changes
Chapter Twenty-two
It Ain’t Much
Dean stumbled slightly as he navigated the road back to the motel. He certainly wasn’t drunk, he assured himself. Just sort of… pleasantly tipsy. It was just lucky for him that the Impala and truck were still parked where the family had left them, or Dean might never have remembered which room they were in. And he could easily explain that away as well. They stayed in so many different places; the numbers to all those rooms got jumbled up in his head. That the number of the room was written on the key tag for the door never occurred to him. He was just… pleasantly tipsy.
Dean could see no lights on, but consulting his watch once again, knew that even his father would give up waiting for him after two-thirty. Dean snorted softly. Dad probably thought he’d scored with some hot chick tonight and was crashing at the ladies place. While there’d been a few members of the opposite gender present at the bar, there were none that Dean could quite lower himself to be with. It wasn’t that they were ugly, just a little off-putting. Of course, in one case, it was the wedding band that had turned him off.
No, his evening had been spent playing pool, listening to music, drinking beer and between these things, listening to the locals chat. In all, it had been a pretty boring evening, although it did serve its purpose. Dean knew when he left that he needed either a quiet place to think, or to be distracted entirely from the matter at hand. And that was whatever secret that Sammy had been keeping from him.
It was obvious to everyone that Sam was hiding something. That little envelope that never left his grubby little hands or duffle bag was a big clue. And the kid was extremely careful never to let anyone catch sight of what could be in that envelope. At first, Dean had feared that it contained some sort of blackmail material. He’d had fun planning retaliation for that. But when no pranks were forthcoming, he felt let down. And then he had begun to watch his brother more closely.
The problem had been pushed to the back of his mind with Max’s disappearance. And now that the rest of her story was out in the open, there’d been a huge weight lifted off of Dean’s shoulders over his stomach clenching, finger numbing guilt he felt over allowing it to happen. And no matter what anyone said to him, he would always flagellate himself for letting his sister go off on her own and get kidnapped. Hell, he’d do the same if it had been Sammy or his dad. But with Max, it was just different.
But back to Sammy and whatever secret he was keeping, Dean was willing to bet cash money that Max was somehow now in on it. The looks that had passed between his siblings that day, after Max had returned from Lawrence, were not quite subtle enough. Or maybe Max’s were, because all Dean ever caught was that slightly panicked look in Sam’s eyes as he’d carefully shake his head or glance away, flushed slightly.
Now it was for Dean to decide if Sammy had told Max what was going on, or the more likely route, that Max had stumbled upon some clue and reasoned things out. Dean figured it was that way, because there hadn’t been any kind of confrontation on his younger sibling’s part. But that didn’t necessarily mean that there would be. Knowing how girly his younger brother could get in some ways, Dean figured that the pair of them were more likely to go off and have a deep meaningful talk, filled with bunny rabbits and rainbows. He snorted to himself once again. Whatever Sam was keeping secret, Dean probably didn’t care to know. It was just the fact that Sam, his baby brother Sammy was keeping secrets from him.
It only took Dean one try to fit the key into the door lock. He’d long ago learned to perfect this technique, having come back enough times to a motel room in this condition to know that repetitive tries would wake everyone up and then there’d be hell to pay. As soon as he had the door open, Dean slipped inside and toed off his boots while he carefully shut the door.
Pushing the boots to the side, Dean glanced around the room. There was a faint light gleaming from under the bathroom door, since whoever had hung the door had overestimated the length and cut the frame too high. A glance at the empty couch told Dean that his father was probably in there. He shrugged his coat off and laid it gently over the table. Suddenly, he was tired enough that all he felt like doing was dropping into the bed and drifting rapidly off to lala land. But it was for naught when he was confronted by two large lumps in the bed that he and Sam had snagged.
Even as he stared down at the larger form, the blanket moved and Dean found himself staring down at his father. “Hey Dad,” he whispered. A wry grin graced John’s face for a moment and his hand moved out from under the blanket so he could check his watch.
“Sorry Deano,” he grunted, also quiet, “you’re on the couch tonight.” Instead of arguing about it, Dean just nodded and began to move away. It was rare that John succumbed to the lure of a bed and Dean hardly could begrudge him this time. “And turn off that damn light, will ya?” John’s voice followed after him.
Dean grunted an unintelligible response, but his father was already snoring again. With his jaw cracking on a huge yawn, Dean made his way to the couch across the room, pulling the t-shirt from his torso. He threw it to the end of the couch where his feet would probably hang over, then sat to peel his socks off. They chased the shirt, one of them rolling to fall to the floor. Dean rubbed at the bridge of his nose and sighed. He didn’t really feel like getting back up to go and shut the light off, but his very vocal bladder easily changed his mind.
With the carpet muffling his bare feet, Dean padded back across the room. The glare of light was a little brighter the closer he got and he squinted his eyes against it, knowing that if he didn’t he’d be in trouble. He pushed the door open, but the sight inside was enough to widen his eyes and make his slack jaw gape.
Time seemed to slow for Dean.
There was his sister, his little sister, stark nude in the shower stall. One leg up, foot resting on the rim of the tub, her body bent over as her hands smoothed something or other down her toned calf muscle. He must have made a noise or something as suddenly Max’s head snapped up and panic flew through her face.
“Dean!” she screeched and time seemed to snap back into its proper stream. Max’s hands scrabbled for the towel that was hung over the bar and Dean had the fleeting image of the rest of her body before his own hand clapped over his eyes.
“Sorry,” he shouted out, “Damn it, I’m sorry! It was an accident!” He whirled around, intent on giving his nude sibling some privacy, only to be delayed by running into the door frame. He staggered to the side and something caught him in the back of the head as he tried to right himself. It probably was a towel thrown at him by his irate sister. Feeling for the door or the opening, anything with his free hand, Dean finally made it out to the main room. Still with his hand over his eyes, he reached back to pull the door shut, luckily snagging it with the first try.
He finally dropped his hand down and winced at the sudden glare from two lamps that had come on with Max’s screech. Both Sam and John were sitting bolt upright, alerted by Max’s voice that there was trouble. John was searching the room, pistol in hand, while Sam merely glared sleepily at his brother.
“It’s okay Dad,” Dean caught his father’s attention. He jerked one thumb over his shoulder. “I accidentally walked in on Max’s shower.” A puzzled look came over his face. He turned his head towards the door. “Speaking of which,” he began loudly. “What the hell were you doing taking a shower at three in the morning?”
“I was shaving my legs you jerk!” came the agitated reply. Dean’s right eyebrow quirked up.
“So why didn’t you lock the door?” he demanded.
“Because Dad and Sam were asleep and I didn’t think you were coming back tonight idiot!”
“Ah, did you miss me?” Dean teased, having heard the hitch in her voice.
“Like a hole in my head moron!”
“Oh you’ve got nothing to be ashamed of Max,” Dean chuckled. Now that the moment of panic was over, he had quickly reverted back to his fairly easy going nature. “You’ve got a nice figure, pretty face, maybe someday down the road; you’ll find a guy as wonderful as your big brother. You know, like in thirty years or so.”
“You looked at her?” Sam demanded incredulously, his face flaming in embarrassment for his siblings.
“Yeah,” Dean shrugged. “What part of ‘it was an accident’ didn’t you understand?” He turned fully and knocked on the door. “Can you hurry it up Max; I need to take a leak.”
“You can go piss in the kitchen sink for all I care you pig!”
Dean grinned, and then turned back to his brother. “I think she’s just pissed off ‘cause I can finally start teasing her about the rack she’s developing.”
“Oh my God,” Sam groaned, burying his face in his hands. That was another something about his sister that he really didn’t want to think about. “Shut up Dean!”
“What’s wrong with that?” Dean chortled evilly. “I tease you all the time.”
“Because she’s your sister maybe,” John put in dryly. He had, until now, been watching the scene unfold fairly impassively.
“Well it’s not like we’re biologically related, right?” Dean smirked. “I can look!”
Both Sam and Max’s voices rang out together.
“For the love of God, stop it Dean!” that came from Sam.
“I’m fifteen you pervert!” came from Max.
“God, you guys can’t take a joke,” Dean huffed, though his eyes were still twinkling. He turned back to the bathroom door. “I only tease you because I love you. And I didn’t see anything Max. Whatever I did see, was promptly forgotten and with as much as I drank tonight, will never be recalled. Okay?”
That seemed to mollify her as she finally came out of the bathroom, fully dressed in a long nightgown. Dean spared her a tight smile and dashed into the bathroom, slamming the door shut behind him. As he took care of business, he concentrated on anything but the scent her soap had left behind in the room.
He quickly washed his hands and opened the door. He shut off the light, glancing once towards Max’s bed. She was under the covers, with the blanket pulled up high to her chin. John had already turned his lamp off and Sam was waiting until Dean had made it to the couch before he’d turn the other off.
There was still though, one more thing puzzling Dean. As he spread out the sheet to lie over the couch, he glanced at his sister. “How come you were shaving your legs at three in the morning? Couldn’t sleep?”
“When would you prefer me to do it?” she groused sarcastically. “Maybe at eight in the morning when three other people need to use the bathroom? Or maybe the moment we check in when everyone wants to leave to go eat? Or maybe I should just do it in the Impala when you’re driving ninety miles an hour down the road like a bat out of hell.”
Dean chuckled. She did make a good point. He lowered himself to the couch, kicking one end of the thick blanket to the end of his couch, not caring that it was tangled around. “All right Sammy,” he muttered and his brother obligingly shut off the lamp. Dean closed his eyes, but unlike what he’d said before, the golden image of his lithe sister refused to be dismissed.
*****
John was grumpy. After being woken up the night before, he had a slight headache from the interrupted sleep. Not to mention the fortunately brief screaming from his daughter. Of course, it was completely understandable. Nobody liked being walked in on in the bathroom under the best of circumstances, not that he could imagine any. Of course it didn’t help that Dean had been teasing Max all morning. And it didn’t help that Max had noticed Dean’s slight hangover and had hid the acetaminophen and was making as much noise as possible. John was just glad that they had no neighbors in the motel who could have and would have been very justified in making a complaint.
To that end, he’d instructed the kids to pack up. They were getting out of there before any more damage could be done. And when they were finally ready to go, he’d tersely barked out the rides. Max with him and Sammy with Dean. There was no protest at all from the children. No, that all came later.
They’d gotten about twenty miles down the road, when Max’s new cell phone rang. She frowned at the number on the display, then snapped open the phone with no small amount of irritation.
“What?” she demanded. Her eyes widened, then narrowed and without further words, snapped the phone shut again. She turned to her father. “Have you ever noticed that your eldest son is a complete ass?”
John had to duck his head quickly so that she wouldn’t see the grin on his face. He quickly schooled his features before clearing his throat and mumbling a reply. Her phone rang again and after checking to see that it was Dean calling again, Max left it in her lap. John knew better than to ask her to answer it. Max had figured out pretty quickly that the quickest way to get Dean to stop picking on her was to not give him the reaction he was looking for. It was something John had tried to impress upon Sam to very little avail.
Once she was sure it had gone into voicemail though, Max checked and sure enough there was a message. She listened to it, sighed and rolled her eyes.
“There are not enough words in this world to describe what a jerk he’s being,” Max announced theatrically, all the while calmly setting the phone back down. She turned around in her seat after unbuckling, wrenched open the back window and casually stuck her hand out to give Dean a very familiar one finger salute.
John’s lips twitched as he checked in his side mirror to see Dean returning the favor. He shook his head as Max buckled up again. The phone rang again immediately but Max ignored it.
He glanced at the mirror again to see that this time it was Sammy frantically, politely, saluting them. “Better answer that, it’s Sam,” he instructed.
“Probably with a message from Dean,” Max sighed, though she did as she was bade. “What?” she snapped again. She listened as Sam spoke rapidly, a grin tugging at the corners of her mouth. “Yeah I’m sorry that dumb ass put you in this position, but you’re a grown boy Sammy. Nobody’s putting a gun to your head.” She listened again and then she laughed. “Look Sam, just tell Dean that if he doesn’t quit bugging me, I’m going to drug him, douse his sensitive anatomy with ice water, and take a picture of it…”
“… and show it to every single girl you ever come across,” Sam dutifully recited to his brother. He waited for his older brother’s reaction. True to form Dean snorted and shook his head.
“Yeah, like that’ll happen,” he scoffed. “You tell little missy that it’ll be a cold day in hell before she’s anywhere near my boys.”
Sam sighed and rolled his eyes. He didn’t have to repeat it though, since Max heard it loud and clear. “Before you guys get going again,” Sam interrupted his sister’s rant, “can you ask Dad where we’re going to stop? I’m hungry.”
Sam listened and then shut the phone off. “Dad said that the next diner we hit, we’ll stop.”
Dean nodded and then turned contemplative eyes upon his brother. “So,” he began conversationally, “since you and Dad have put the kibosh on my fun this morning, why don’t you tell me what it is you’ve been hiding away in your duffel?”
Sam stared at his brother, trying to keep his expression calm. “I haven’t been hiding anything,” he denied. Dean scoffed.
“Right,” he drawled. “And I’m the friggin’ tooth fairy. You have so been hiding crap. In a manila envelope. Come on Sam, we’ve all seen the damn thing. What’s in it?”
“If everybody’s seen it, then how have I been hiding it?” Sam demanded with a smile. “And putting it in my bag doesn’t count. That’s packing.”
“Well, seeing as how every time someone got within ten feet of your precious envelope, you’d disappear and ‘pack’ it away.”
“And?” Sam stalled. He should have realized that his brother probably had an inkling that something was up.
“I want to know what’s in there,” Dean informed him slowly. He grinned in answer to the smile his brother still wore. “Come on Sam, what is it? Blackmail pictures of Dad? Sweet love letters from a damsel in distress? Or is it-?”
“Has anyone ever told you that you have an overactive imagination?” Sam sputtered through a short laugh.
“Yes they have,” Dean confirmed with a manly, yet self-satisfied smirk. “And believe me that imagination comes in extremely handy.”
“Argh!” Sam groaned, thumping his head upon the back seat rest. “I don’t want to hear about your sex life.”
“Well you got to hear it from somewhere bro,” Dean sassed. “Because yours is from what I can see, sadly lacking.”
“Something I can live with,” Sam murmured. But unfortunately, that can of worms was not enough to deter Dean from his curiosity.
So which is it?” Dean tried again.
“Which what?”
“Don’t play dumb with me,” Dean growled playfully. “Remember, I know your I.Q.” He paused, his next words a little more quiet. “You know, the thing that you obviously felt more comfortable telling our adopted sister than you did your own big brother.”
Sam stared at his brother, unbelieving that he’d actually heard the pain and jealousy in the older man’s tones. He couldn’t believe that Dean was… hurt over this. “I didn’t tell Max anything,” he corrected softly.
“Really?” Dean scoffed disbelievingly. “So what was with all the pointed looks and silent communications?”
Sam sighed, wondering how much his brother was going to force out of him. He wouldn’t even put it past Dean to pull the car over and wrestle the truth out of him. “Look, Max found out one little thing and came up with some ideas. I haven’t said anything because I wanted to talk to Dad about it first.”
“Oh,” was his brother’s soft reply. There was silence in the car for a little while.
“It’s not anything bad Dean,” Sam tried to assure his brother. “If it was, do you really think I’d leave you out of the loop?”
“Nah,” Dean grinned, though it seemed to Sam that it was forced. “It’s just strange, you know. Ever since you were little, you told me everything. There were never any secrets we kept from each other.”
“Believe me, I know,” Sam chuckled. “I gave you enough dirt on me to scare off every potential girlfriend I could ever find for two lifetimes over.”
“Now would I do that?” Dean smirked. Sam was just glad that things were back to their usual relationship.
“Penny Seifert dude, that’s all I have to say.”
Dean had to think for a moment. “Oh yeah! Pigtail headed Penny.”
“She didn’t always wear pigtails Dean.”
“Every time I saw her, she was,” Dean laughed. “Man, that was the only way you could tell she was a chick.” Suddenly he snapped his fingers. “Oh, I got it. Call Max up and tell her that if she even dares to try and carry out that last threat, I’ll tell every guy that she meets that she’s… oh hell, what’s the word?”
Sam narrowed his eyes. They had been talking about Penny looking more like a guy… “Androgynous?” he asked.
Dean spared him a quick grin. “Is that where the kid has both body parts?”
“No that’s hermaphroditic,” Sam grimaced.
“Yeah,” Dean snapped his fingers. “I’ll tell them all she’s a hermaphrodite and that she’s just saving up enough money to get her wee willy lopped off.”
“Dude!” Sam protested. “You’re sick!”
He may have been sick, but at least it passed the time until they pulled in after John’s truck to, as promised, the first diner their father saw.
*****
Tonight was the night, Sam decided as he saw the camaraderie with which his family was engaged in. Dean and Max, who’d both eaten a boatload of food, were now fighting over who got the last slice of apple pie in the place. The waitress was kind of enough to try and point out the other selections and by some grace, there was a slice of cherry that caught his sister’s attention. His father was leaning back in the booth, sated from his own dinner.
Unconsciously, Sam’s fingers were rubbing along the pocket seam of the jacket nestled behind him. The letter, he still couldn’t believe that Stanford had accepted him, was resting inside. Though slight of weight, it had been weighing heavily on his mind since the moment he’d received it.
“So are you ever going to come right out and say it?” John interrupted his thoughts, a bemused look upon his face. It was enough to startle Sam out of his reverie.
“What?” he demanded in surprise. Max and Dean exchanged glances and immediately stopped their squabbling. Now they were both leaning forward, though Max had turned so that she could see Sam, whom she was sitting beside.
“Oh don’t act so surprised,” John huffed, waving one hand slightly. “You’ve barely talked at all tonight, you’ve been picking at your coat every few minutes. You’ve been staring at us all when you think we haven’t noticed.”
“Do we finally get to learn that deep dark secret you’ve been hiding?” Dean teased.
“I guess so,” Sam breathed out on a sigh. A glance darted in Max’s direction bolstered his suddenly flagging spirits. If only he knew for sure how his father and brother would react, then he would know how to handle this. Pulling his jacket around, he withdrew the heavy envelope that held his future.
“Dude!” Dean protested. “That’s it! Another envelope. That’s lame.”
Sam laughed huskily, thankful that his brother’s impatience served to break the tension. “It’s not what it is, but who it’s from,” Sam instructed him quietly.
John reached out slowly and turned the envelope to face him. He read the return address and whatever fear he had in him seemed to evaporate. It made Sam wonder what had passed through his father’s mind. “Stanford?” he questioned. Sam nodded.
“I uh, I applied there and a couple other places,” he explained. Then with a sheepish grin, told everyone, “that’s what was in the other envelope. All the brochures and stuff.”
“Well, what does it say?” Dean demanded, his eyes also bright. Sam could literally see the waves of pride aching to burst forth.
“I got in,” Sam replied softly, his eyes back on his father. The complete joy that transformed the older man’s face was an amazing sight to behold. It went from disbelief to pride to something that Sam could honestly say that he’d never seen on his father’s face when aimed in his direction.
“Sammy!” John exclaimed. He pulled himself out of the booth his arms reaching for his son. Stunned, Sam felt the sharp nudge of Max’s elbow in his side and he stood to meet the arms that wrapped around his shoulders. “My boy!” There followed some energetic thumping on his back and when Sam finally was let loose, he was stunned to see the hint of a tear in the corner of his father’s eye. It was quickly dashed away as Dean took his father’s place.
A quick hug and a murmured “I knew it. No way would some brainiac college turn my baby brother down.”
Max just sat, smiling beatifically at them, but before John could question her restraint, the waitress chose that moment to appear, two plates of pie in her hands. John rounded on her and Sam could have sworn that his chest was puffed up like a proud peacock.
“My son got accepted to Stanford,” he announced distinctly, just as if he were any other overly proud father. The waitress, who until those words had been uttered, was eying them suspiciously, transformed before them. She slid the two plates on the table and held out her hand to Sam.
“Oh that’s wonderful,” she crooned. “Congratulations! This deserves to be celebrated. Tell you what, dessert on the house, all around.” They could hardly say no to that. The woman peeked around at Max and Dean. “And I’ll bring you some ice cream for that pie. Got to do this up right.”
As soon as she left, John, Dean and Sam resumed their seats. “This is what Max knew, isn’t it?” Dean demanded, a grin still on his face.
“I am the one that picked up the letter dumb ass,” she snorted through her own smile. “They don’t send you fat letters like that to say ‘rejected’.”
Before another teasing argument could break out, Sam cleared his throat and his family dutifully turned their attention to him. “That’s not all,” he smiled. “Um, what I didn’t tell Max was, well, they not only accepted me, they’ve offered me a scholarship.”
John’s eyes widened at that announcement and he scrambled to pick up the letter. Pulling it from its moorings, his eyes quickly swept over the initial page, confirming for himself that Sammy was correct. The paper fluttered back to the table. “That’s wonderful,” he finally managed to get out.
“Oh Sammy,” Max squealed, throwing her arms around his neck. “That is so awesome!”
“Yeah it is!” Dean concurred. The family continued their outbursts of happiness and appreciation until the waitress brought back more dessert. John chose from the tray another slice of pie, but declined the ice cream. For Sam, she’d brought out a large slice of chocolate cake on which someone had hurriedly piped in the word ‘Congrats’ in whipped cream. Sam graciously thanked her and the family settled in to eating.
Finished before the others, John leaned back in his seat and wiped his mouth with the paper napkin. He sighed contentedly and stared at Sam. The young man, wondering if he had whipped cream somewhere embarrassing on his face, hurriedly swiped his hand down his chin. “What?” he demanded with a laugh.
“Nothing,” John just shrugged. “It’s just… this is a good thing Sammy. A good dream to have. Something in the future to look forward to.”
And despite the warmth of the restaurant, the happy sounds of people chattering around them, the general air at their table of contentment, Sam felt a chill shiver run up his spine.
*****
The next morning found both John and Dean up early. After tossing and turning most of the night, Sam had finally fallen into slumber towards dawn, a fact not missed by the other members of his family. And so they had by mutual unspoken consent, decided to let him sleep in. Max was padding softly around the room, wondering what her father and brother were up to.
When John finally re-entered the room, he motioned Max over to him and informed the girl that Dean needed to talk to her. She found him sitting on the hood of the Impala, a bright grin across his face. Recognizing immediately, that he was up to something, she approached him with a measure of caution.
“What’s the matter?” he demanded brightly, knowing exactly where her train of thoughts led.
“You’ve got that look,” Max scowled. Dean chuckled and motioned for her to join him. Max came in as close as she dared and leaned one hip against the car.
“I’ve got a favor to ask,” Dean began honestly. Max quirked an eyebrow up. “Can you keep Sammy busy this morning?”
“Why and what’s in it for me?” Max demanded swiftly.
“’Cause I asked you to and the satisfaction of knowing that I’ll owe you one,” Dean answered just as quickly, placing his hand on his chest in a cheeky ‘heartfelt’ gesture.
“Tell me, or I’ll blow the whistle on you,” Max grinned. She loved having her big brother in this position. Dean regarded her seriously for a moment, but his face broke out in smiles again. It wasn’t that big a secret. Just one to be kept from Sammy for a little while. He gestured her in closer.
“Dad and I want to get something for Sammy,” he informed her. “You know, to celebrate this school crap. But it’s gonna take a little time to do, hence the distraction.”
“Well why didn’t you just say so,” Max rolled her eyes. “What do you want me to do specifically?”
“Well,” Dean scooted closer to his sister as he began to fill her in on the details. “We found the place we want. It’s over in Oklahoma City. So we’re going to head up that way today. When we get there, we’ll split up to do some shopping. Just keep Sam with you until we’re done. I’ll call you and then we can meet up. Okay?”
Max shrugged her shoulder. “Easy peasey,” she confirmed. “Um?”
“What?” Dean asked as he began to carefully scoot off the car.
“Does this mean I should get him something too?”
Dean looked thoughtful for a moment. “If you want to you can. What Dad and I are doing is kind of a, well no offense, but it’s a Winchester thing.”
Max smirked at her brother. It certainly didn’t hurt her feelings to point out that she wasn’t blood kin. They all were well aware of the fact. But now that meant she had to come up with something and she wasn’t always the best at picking out gifts.
“Is there anything I shouldn’t get him?” she asked easily, meaning what were John and Dean giving to him so that she wouldn’t duplicate it. Dean also obviously caught her meaning.
“Just stay away from the store we go in and you should be fine,” he instructed. Max nodded and followed her brother back into the motel room.
In less than an hour, they were on their way. Sam had protested until Dean pointed out that he could just as easily sleep in the car. They snagged some drive through breakfast and continued down the road. Max once again rode with John so that she could discuss gift ideas for Sam. Eventually, she decide that she’d just do some browsing in the shops Sam was interested in and then pick something out that caught his eye. John figured it was as good a plan as any.
They hit Oklahoma City in the early afternoon and once John figured out were they were going, found the shop they wanted was located in a mall. This suited their purposes well, since the family wouldn’t get too separated. Especially since they hadn’t chosen a motel yet as a rendezvous point.
Dean pulled the Impala into the empty spot beside his father as Sam looked around.
“What are we doing here?” he demanded of his brother, Dean seemed absorbed in shutting off the car and gathering his essentials.
“Max needs some stuff,” Dean answered distractedly. “And I wanted to get a new belt. Mine’s starting to get worn through. So Dad figured we’d stop and do some shopping. Didn’t he tell you?”
Sam thought about it for a minute. Maybe Dad had said something. He’d been pretty out of it that morning. He sighed and mentally shrugged. It wasn’t hurting anything to stop. “I suppose I should get some more socks.”
“Well if you’d trim your toenails once in a while Sammy,” Dean taunted, “then maybe you wouldn’t go through them so quick.”
“Ha ha Dean,” Sam retorted softly as he clambered out of the car. He stretched his long frame and smiled as his sister rounded the car.
“Come on,” she grinned, grabbing hold of his jacket and tugging at it. “Let’s go.”
“What’s the rush?” Sam whined, deliberately dragging his feet.
“Tacos!” Max told him triumphantly. “I’m starved and they’ve got a taco place here.”
Sam glanced at his watch. He was only mildly hungry, but he was thirsty. “Okay,” he conceded and followed after her. Tacos didn’t sound too bad. But after three steps or so, he noticed that Dean and his Dad weren’t following. He halted Max and turned back. “You guys coming?”
Dean grimaced and rubbed one hand against his stomach. “Those little McEgg craps aren’t sitting pretty right now bro. I’m gonna pass.”
Sam turned to his father. “I’m not hungry yet. You two go ahead. Just meet us back at the food court in three hours.”
“Yes sir!” Max and Sam chimed together and once again Max was dragging Sam off.
“And don’t turn your cell phones off!” John called after them. “And call me if there’s trouble!”
“Yes sir!” they called again, totally unconcerned about their father’s admonitions. Max was almost jogging in her haste. Sam chuckled as he reached for her arm.
“I think we’re safe now,” he told her.
“We were in danger?” she quipped back to him.
“Of being detained for an hour long safety lecture, of course,” Sam snarked happily. Max giggled and slowed to a more sedate pace.
After the pair ate, they took their time ambling through the mall, seeing what it had to offer. Max had convinced Sam to go into a shop with her and help her pick out some new boots. He gave a fairly indifferent opinion on everything she tried on and she finally settled on picking out her own without help from him.
In the time they had left, they managed to hit the book store, a music store and an electronics store. It was there that Max felt inspiration come upon her. Noting the time, she pointed out to Sam that they only had a few minutes before they were supposed to meet John and Dean. Reluctantly, he pulled himself away from the displays and they headed out. Halfway down to the food court, Max stopped near the restrooms.
“Go ahead,” she instructed. “I need to make a little stop.”
“It’s okay,” Sam grinned, seeing what she was referring to. “I can wait.”
“I’m a big girl Sammy,” she grinned. “Don’t need you to hold my hand.”
“Yeah, but I might need you to hold mine while Dad kicks my butt for leaving you alone.”
Max snorted out a laugh and then pulled out her cell phone. She dialed her father’s number and waited for him to pick up.
“Yeah Max?”
“Hey Dad,” she smiled, glancing up at Sam. “We’re on our way to the food court.”
“Sam still with you?”
“Yeah, he’s right here,” she answered honestly. “We’ve been together the whole time.”
“Did you find something you want to get him?”
“Yep I did?”
“Were you able to get it, or do you need to go back for it?” John asked and then answered for himself. “Scratch that, you probably need to go back for it. Right?”
“Yes sir,” she answered softly.
“Okay,” John decided rapidly. “Tell him to wait there. We’ll come to him. Dean wants to show off the belt buckle he wants to get. We’ll distract him and you can slip back and get whatever it is. Will you need to stash it in the truck?”
“Yeah, I should probably do that,” she chuckled. Sam was glancing impatiently down towards the food court.
“All right, we’ll give you time,” John laughed as well. “See you in a few.”
Max hung up her phone and stashed it back in the pocket of her jean jacket. “Dad and Dean are meeting us here,” she informed her brother. “And I really need to pee.”
Sam just shook his head and leaned back against the wall, scanning the crowd for two familiar faces. Max hurried down the short hallway and rounded the corner. She turned and watched from her slight vantage point. Soon enough Dean and John had arrived and she watched as Dean dragged his brother off. John called something out after them. Max hurried, but was careful to make sure that Sam’s back was still turned away from her.
“All clear,” John whispered. “Meet me at the food court. Go. Go!”
Max dashed towards her intended store and as quickly as possible bought the items that Sam had been interested in. Using as much speed as she possibly dared, she hurried out to the truck, stashed the large items behind the seats, locked up and made it back to the food court where John was waiting with a nice cold soda for her. She was just in time too, since Dean and Sam had just rounded the corner and immediately saw them.
The three conspirators shared triumphant grins while Sammy seemed completely oblivious to it all.
*****
As per John’s instructions, Dean and Sam led the way to find a motel room for the night. Not caring either way, Dean had pulled into the first motel he found and discovered that there were a few vacancies. They weren’t able to get another with kitchenette as they had the past few places they’d stayed. But they did get a double suite. After furnishing yet another fake credit card, he and Sam proceeded to unload their gear.
A hasty phone call to his father to let him know their location let Dean know that John and Max had found a place to gift wrap the gift Max had purchased. Ostensibly, he could tell Sam that they were picking up take-out and would be there soon.
And not half an hour later, the pair pulled into the motel. Dean met them at the door, taking the food and conveying it to the small table. Max jerked her head towards the truck and Dean easily took the hint. Outside, he found a pile of things still in the cab of the truck. Max’s hands had been full of her purchases and her duffel bag. She’d left behind the soda, Sam’s present and obviously what she wanted him outside for. On top of the present was an open card, with a pen laying across it.
“I felt kind of silly,” Max chuckled from behind him. “You know, being the only one with a present.”
“Why is it silly?” Dean smiled at her. “Ours just won’t be ready for a while.”
“Yeah, but Sammy would be hurt if I got him something and you guys blew it off,” Max pointed out reasonably. “So Dad and I decided that this can be from all of us and when your present is ready, just explain what happened.”
Dean mulled that over and couldn’t see anything wrong with it.
“Besides which,” Max continued, “I will be more than happy to take full credit for picking this out.”
“What is it?” Dean asked as he signed his name to the congratulatory card that surely Max had picked out. His father inelegant scrawl was already there, under Max’s.
“You’ll see,” she replied softly, reaching around him to grab the bag of drinks. “Can you carry it in? And don’t drop it!”
“Yes ma’am,” Dean quipped even as he hefted the moderately weighted box in his arms.
Sam was waiting impatiently for his siblings to come in so that they could eat. He’d indulged in one taco with Max earlier and was feeling as if his stomach thought his throat had been cut. But John had admonished him to wait, so wait he did. He certainly didn’t expect to see them come back in with a gift.
A confused apprehension filled him as he wondered if he’d forgotten some special anniversary, but nothing came to mind. When Dean set the gift before him and he caught his own name on the card envelope, the confusion cleared. In its place a curious lump formed in his throat. He glanced up at the expectant faces, waiting for his reaction.
He picked up the card and slid out the card emblazoned with words of congratulations. Flipping it open he read the typed note inside, as well as the three signatures beneath. The lump grew a little wider.
“You guys didn’t have to do this,” he told them softly.
“You should always open the gift before you say that Sammy,” Dean teased. “’Cause maybe we really shouldn’t have.”
Sam smiled ruefully at his brother and laid the card on the table. Taking a small quick breath, he reached for the expertly wrapped gift. He wasn’t sure when they had done this, aside from it being some time today. He knew John hadn’t wrapped it, for the corners were not crisply creased. And it wasn’t Dean, since there wasn’t a multitude of tape everywhere. And that left Max, though this was way neater than her last attempt.
With the first tear and familiar words catching his eyes, excitement filled the young man.
“You guys got me a laptop!” he exclaimed, a mixture of disbelief and excitement tingeing his voice. There were appreciative chuckles as he pulled the electronic accouterments he’d been drooling over, from the rest of the wrapping paper. “Oh man,” he continued, checking it over. “I was just looking at this today.”
“We know,” Max grinned. Sam glanced up at her as understanding dawned on his face.
“That’s why you were dragging me into all those different stores,” he smiled. Then he turned to his brother. “And that’s why you took me to that store to show me that god awful belt buckle. So Max and Dad could get this.”
“It wasn’t god awful,” Dean laughed. “Dude, it was classy.”
“It was a rhinestone encrusted cowboy boot the size of the state of Texas!” Sam protested, a huge grin on his face. Even as he teased his brother, his fingers were busy trying to peel the safety tape from the box. John simply pulled out his pocket knife and helped.
“Yeah, but it was classy,” Dean protested.
“It was fugly!” Sam retorted. “I nearly went blind looking at it.”
“Maybe that was the whole point,” Max joined in. “That much bling was bound to stun the ladies into insensibility.” She glanced at her eldest brother. “Sort of Dean’s version of the caveman’s old ‘knock the lady out cold and drag her off to his den of iniquities’ type thing.”
“Ha!” Dean snorted as he moved the wrapping paper from the table and reached for one of the boxes of take-out. “You guys never have appreciated the subtlety in which I work my charms.”
“There’s nothing subtle about it son,” John laughed as Sam pushed his hands out of the way so that he could get at the computer. He clicked his knife shut and pushed it back into his pocket. “Flash a big old’ smile, tell her how pretty she is and how lonely you’ve been and they’re a puddle of goo.”
Dean shook his head. “Nobody ever appreciates me,” he whined. He took a bite of the concoction in the box while he leaned towards his brother, who was currently going over the user’s manual.
“Hey, get that away from her,” Sam protested, shoving his brother’s shoulder. Dean gave him a blank look and Sam gestured at the laptop. “I don’t want you spilling your crud on her!”
Dean, in typical fashion made a great show of almost dropping food on the precious new gift until finally John cuffed him lightly on the back of his head. “Looks like Sammy’s finally found his baby,” he commented with a wry grin at his sister.
“Looks like,” she agreed mildly.
Sam, still studying the manual, glanced up and took in their happy faces. They were pleased because he was pleased. “This is just… so awesome,” he murmured, then carefully set the manual down. “Thanks you guys!”
There was a chorus of you’re welcomes and Sam resumed his seat to keep reading. Dean pushed some of the food his brother’s way and snorted to himself as Sam was very careful to keep the food away from his new toy. John and Max each took some food and found perches on the beds. There was little silence as they talked over their day and Max pulled out the boots she’d chosen to show them.
Soon talk turned to the next hunt they would be going on. John had received some information about another spirit haunting in the Hot Springs National Park over in Arkansas. The info was spotty at best and Sam happily piped up that once he had everything installed, hooked up and taken care of, he’d be able to surf the ‘net to find out more information. John looked pleased at that, until something troubling crossed his face.
“Maybe the first thing you’d better do is send a letter to Stanford,” he commented quietly. Sam glanced at him, puzzled and then his face suddenly cleared.
“Oh yeah,” he muttered.
“I mean, I don’t know the correct protocol for this,” John continued. He took a bite of his meal and chewed thoughtfully. “Maybe just let them know that you’re really honored about the scholarship, but you just can’t accept it at this time.”
“What?” Sammy voice was deadly quiet, his face stern as he tried to integrate what his father was telling him.
“Yeah,” Dean chimed in. “Just make sure to word it politely. Don’t want them to think you’re ungrateful.”
“I’m not ungrateful,” Sammy replied quietly. His glance flew back and forth between his father, Dean and Max, but his sister seemed to be just as puzzled by this turn of conversation as he was.
“Maybe you can tell them too that you’ll reapply down the road,” John mused thoughtfully. “They admitted you once; I can’t see why they wouldn’t later.”
“But why would I…?” Sammy trailed off.
“I don’t know how long it will be,” John admitted softly. “We’ve been hunting for this demon for a long damn time.” He paused, his eyes unfocused on anything in the room. “But as soon as we find the bastard and make it pay…”
“Then it’ll be school time for Sammy,” Dean finished happily, seemingly oblivious to the undercurrents emanating from his little brother.
John turned back to his younger son. “So it’s probably better that you get that taken care of as soon as possible,” he instructed. “They’ll probably want to award that scholarship to the next most deserving person, right?”
“Right,” Sammy whispered, swallowing heavily around the lump in his throat.
*****
The first of many fights between father and son broke out the next morning. Sam had stayed up late, tinkering with the laptop. John had simply asked him if he’d sent the email to the school and Sam replied that he hadn’t. It touched off a small fight about responsibilities. John was of the opinion that the sooner he took care of this matter, the better. Sam seemed to want to hold onto this dream just a little longer.
The next fight wasn’t over the laptop, or school, it was Sam picking a fight with his father because he never let any of the kids go out of sight for more than ten seconds. They all knew that it wasn’t true, at least not to the extreme that Sam was taking it. But Sam seemed to have the need to rail at his father for something. The shouting had gotten on Max’s nerves and she’d ducked out of the hotel room, thus proving Sam’s point when John went immediately after her.
They managed to restrain themselves for another two days, until they figured out the spirit they were hunting for in Arkansas. This time, Dean and Max were drawn into the fight. Dean was right there with his father, wanting to just hunt down the spirits bones, salt and burn them. But as Max and Sam pointed out, that could take a long time, since the grave wasn’t marked and Sam had discovered an Indian ritual that might prove to be more effective. It ended as the two parties went their separate ways.
From then on, it seemed to escalate, where they couldn’t get through one day without the two stubborn mules arguing about something. It was putting an extreme strain upon the family and Dean and Max were faring the worst from it. If they only could have understood what Sam was so upset about, it would have made things easier in their opinion, to deal with.
It wasn’t until Max noticed that Sam had composed the required letter to Stanford. He sat staring at the screen for a long while. And then, with one sweep of a long finger, destroyed the letter from existence. As soon as she told Dean about it, they understood. Sam wanted to go. He wanted to leave them. To say that Dean was hurt was an understatement. But like the good big brother he was, he put his own feelings aside and demanded to know what was up with his brother.
Max and John weren’t privy to that conversation, but Dean came out of it feeling a little more sympathetic to Sammy’s position. But at the same time, he still wholeheartedly supported his father’s stance. The demon that had struck their family so many years ago was still out there, not to mention all the other spirits and letting Sammy go away from them was not acceptable. Even Sam’s half-formed plan of the family settling down around Palo Alto like they did when he was younger, in Geraldine, was not acceptable.
Something that they’d all noticed, but never seemed to speak of, was that supernatural occurrences seemed to be on the rise. They barely had time anymore between hunts. There was always something else occurring and John was relentless in his drive to save as many people as he could.
So the days continued on and the fights tapered off. But the silence in which the group lived was putting more strain on them than anyone could have believed possible. Sam refused to ride with John. John refused to let Sam ride with Max on her motorcycle, since he felt it was bad enough that she was still riding it. Max understood that John feared that Sam just might subvert her since she appeared the most sympathetic to Sam’s cause. Dean was torn between following his father’s directions and protecting his brother.
Finally, two weeks after the very first fight between father and son, a call came in to Dean’s cell phone. It was one he’d been expecting and one he wanted to deal with immediately. After gaining permission from his father, Dean got ready to leave. John headed out before he did, to do some more solitary research. Dean noticed all right that there was interest in what he was up to from Sam and Max. But when he told them that he’d join up with them again in a few days, there was outright indignation from Sam.
Why now, after all of John’s rantings, was Dean allowed to leave? Maybe it was because Dean was going to pick up something they needed. Could Sam go? No. What was so important that Dean needed to leave immediately for? None of Sammy’s business. What were they going to do in the meantime while they waited for him? Dean didn’t really care at that second.
As the eldest Winchester child stepped to the door, he glanced back at his quiet siblings. An idea formed in his mind, one that he knew might backfire heavily on him, but it was the only thing he could think of to do. “Max!” he called. The girl glanced up, her face questioning. “Get your stuff.”
Max turned shocked eyed to Sam, who immediately understood what Dean’s game plan was.
“Taking her with you is not gonna make me talk to Dad,” Sam ground out.
“Maybe not Sammy,” Dean sighed, shifting his bag from one hand to the other. “But something’s gotta give and as long as Max and I are around playing referee, it ain’t gonna happen.” He turned to his sister once more. “So let’s go.”
Max bit at her lower lip. She knew that what Dean was saying was the absolute truth. But that didn’t mean that she liked it. But again, she just didn’t see how they could go on with all this tension and bad feelings. Maybe Dean’s way was the best. Decided, she jumped up, grabbed her bag and hurriedly stuffed her belongings that had come loose, into it. She knew that if there was anything she had forgotten that John or Sam would grab it. She made sure that she had her keys, her phone, her wallet and that her tryptophan was securely in her bag and then followed her oldest brother out of the room.
Sam sat, dumbfounded, watching them leave, with only a whispered goodbye trailing in the air behind them.
*****
“All right!” Dean crowed as he took back the receipt that the pretty red-headed cashier handed him, along with a not so covert slip of paper with her phone number on it. The tension that they’d been living with the past few weeks had been abated with his and Max’s abrupt departure from the scene. The last day had been spent driving, teasing, laughing over jokes, fighting over music and just generally relaxing.
Dean had let his father know immediately that he’d taken Max with him and aside from an angry grunt at his son’s presumptiveness; there was only a warning about the pair being even more careful. An adult male traveling with an underage girl didn’t look right at first sight, especially when the pair didn’t have obvious familial connections. Dean hadn’t worried over it too much because their good natured bickering wherever they went and Max’s obvious affection for him told most outsider’s that the relationship was in some way, okay.
“You ready to go Max?” Dean questioned as he slipped the small box into his jacket pocket. He turned his head, but his sister was no longer at his side. He wondered where she had slipped off to. “Max?” He turned around completely; glad to catch sight of her at another counter. Where some creepy middle-aged dude was holding her hand. Dean’s brow furrowed and his lips thinned, pressed together harshly as he took in his baby sister leaning in to hear what the old fogy was saying. With determined strides, he made his way over to him, completely forgetting about the red head he had just been flirting with.
“And you can see, can’t you,” the old geezer was saying, “the identical cuts of each diamond? Which is why this is a premier piece of our newest collection.”
“It’s gorgeous!” Max enthused. She also happened to notice her brother storming over to them. She leaned back, though not enough to encourage the salesman to let go of her hand. “Look Dean!”
He glanced down once at the diamond bracelet adorning her wrist, the pink tinged jewels winked in the light as the silver setting gleamed. “Yeah, pretty,” he commented in a monotone. “Come on, it’s time to go.”
“Oh,” Max pouted as prettily as she could. “Armando was just teaching me about diamonds.”
Good old Armando beamed up at Dean. “Yes, quite,” he spoke in a slightly lisping tone. “You know what they say,” he paused and let out a slight giggle. “Diamonds are a ladies best friend.”
“Yeah,” Dean snorted as he tried to pull Max’s hand away. “Maybe when she graduates out of the tomboy teenager phase, then she’ll be ready for that.” He was aware of Max’s eyes twinkling as she regarded him, but it did little to dissuade him that he needed to get her away from this smooth talking fop. He felt her tugging her hand away and with ease, once she had it loose, had removed the diamond bracelet and handed it back to Armando. She sighed as she watched the man expertly replace it in its box and bend over to return it to the locked display case. Dean caught her arm and began to tug on it, eager to get her away from the flirtatious fogy, for reasons he didn’t care to examine to deeply.
“Sorry about him,” Max chuckled, catching Armando’s eye again. The man just waved one long finger at her.
“Nonsense,” he smiled. “I never regret imparting my knowledge. Now, don’t forget what I taught you about the all important C’s when shopping for diamonds.” His hand dipped smoothly into the breast pocket of his suit jacket and extracted a card. He held it out to Dean. “And if you’re ever in the market, please, do think of me.”
Dean stared at the card, one eyebrow raised, until Max stepped in and took the card with a grin. Dean never saw the wink that passed between them, just eager to get on his way again.
They left the store, once again retracing the path taken two weeks prior when Dean and John had been shopping for Sam’s gift. Dean heard his sister giggling and was a little miffed that she found something, most likely something he had said or done, to be funny.
“What?” he demanded, slightly irritable at not being in on whatever was causing her so much humor.
“I was just about to ask you the same thing,” Max replied. Dean grunted and continued walking. Max caught up after a moment and tugged on his sleeve. He glanced down at her, his strides never failing. “Dean? Were you… jealous?”
The word exploded in his brain as horrified eyes widened and stared down at the little imp who was his sister. The one who had just stopped him dead in his tracks. “Wha-?” he demanded, slack-jawed. “Jealous of what?” He closed his eyes and tried to focus. When he opened them, he’d regained a measure of control.
“’Cause he wasn’t flirting with me,” Max continued, her lips twitching, trying not to smile.
“Yes he was,” Dean argued, scowling again as he recalled Armando rubbing his fingers allover Max’s hand. Caressing her. Lisping at her. He shivered in mild disgust.
“Actually,” Max drawled, pulling out the card that the salesman had given her. “I do believe he was more interested in you than in me.”
“What!” the words penetrated Dean’s brain and finally Max let loose her guffaws. She pressed the card into her brother’s hand.
“Yes, he said something about the handsome young stud who was chatting up Andrea and I happened to mention that that was my brother and he started pumping me for information and I told him that as far as I knew, you didn’t swing that way, but he thought that he had some mighty fine powers of persuasion…”
Dean tuned her out as the phrase Armando had used floated through his mind once more ‘if you’re ever in the market…’ And he obviously wasn’t talking about jewelry. Feeling his face flame, Dean dropped the card as if it were a snake.
“Oh my God!”
His bewilderment only caused Max to laugh harder. Dean spared a harrowing glance at the business card on the ground and then grabbed his sister’s arm once more. “Let’s get the hell out of here.”
“Oh Dean,” she pouted mockingly. “I think Armando has more class than to run after you through a mall.”
“I wouldn’t put anything past that old …”he glanced down at her, biting off the term he was going to use as he realized it probably wasn’t suitable for her ears.
Max, noticing the red tinge of embarrassment around her brother’s ears, decided to be kind and let the matter drop. “So what are the plans now?” she demanded as Dean finally let loose her arm.
“We’ll head back to the motel, maybe order a pizza and then head out tomorrow once we find out for sure where to meet Dad and Sammy,” Dean decided. He knew Max already knew this, but was grateful that she was willing to be distracted.
They made it out to the car and Max didn’t bother to wait for him to unlock her door, but did it herself with her spare key. As Dean started up the engine, Max reached for the jeweler’s box that he had lain on the seat beside him.
“Can I?” she asked softly. Dean glanced down at the box and shrugged. Max took that for allowance. Carefully pulling the lid off, she stared down in surprise at the contents. She giggled and tilted the box to get a better view. “You got Sam a ring?” she demanded. Somehow, she just didn’t see her brother as a ring-wearer, unless it was a specific finger on the left hand. And even then she wasn’t so sure.
“Not just any ring,” Dean replied quietly, his attention seemingly on the traffic that flowed out of the mall parking lot. There was a long pause and Max waited for an explanation. “It was my mom’s ring,” he said finally.
“Your mom’s?”
“Her wedding band,” he clarified, carefully looking straight ahead.
“Oh,” Max sighed softly, pursing her lips in thought. “I uh, I guess I just assumed that, well, that it was lost in the fire,” she said in a rush. She chanced a glance at her stoic sibling.
Dean heard the sympathetic sorrow in her voice and had to swallow once before he could respond. “Not every thing was burned up,” he told her quietly. “The firemen got there pretty quick, I guess.” Max sat quietly, not knowing what to say next. Dean’s voice took on a slow lilt as he recalled as best he was able those fateful moments and the days that followed. “A few days after the fire, Dad and Sam and I were at a motel. We weren’t talking much. We kind of had our hands full taking care of Sammy, since he was only a baby. The fire marshal showed up at our door to talk to Dad about what they found out about the fire.”
“They thought it was bad wiring, right?” Max interjected. Dean nodded.
“But Dad knew better,” he continued. “Anyways, he, the marshal, said that they had managed to recover some stuff from the house. There were, uh, pictures, some of our clothes that had been in the basement, in the laundry. And mom’s ring. They found it on the floor of Sammy’s nursery. It was… really mangled. I guess the fire was hot enough to soften it and something fell on it…” his voice trailed off and Max felt her heart begin to thud as she considered what exactly that thing might have been.
Dean cleared his throat after a moment. “I remember Dad just… if the bed hadn’t been right behind him; I think he would have fallen over. He had Sammy in his arms and after the marshal pulled the ring out, all he could do was stare at it.”
“But he must have finally taken it, right?” Max pressed gently, but Dean shook his head.
“No. I took it,” he recalled. “I don’t know why. I think I remember feeling that I didn’t want this guy touching my mom’s ring. It was so special to her. She never, and I mean never took it off.” He heaved a long sigh. “I’ve carried it ever since.”
“Dad never wanted it back?” Max questioned softly. Dean gave a short derisive laugh.
“He could barely stand to look at it,” Dean growled.
“But he agreed that you should give it to Sammy,” Max pointed out.
“Yeah,” Dean agreed. “I told him that Mom would be so proud of Sam. That she’d want him to have something special to celebrate this. And truthfully, I’ve been thinking about this for a while.”
“Why’s that?”
“Well, I had four years with Mom,” Dean pointed out reasonably. “Sam wouldn’t know her from Eve if it weren’t for pictures. I just thought that he should have a little something of hers.” After finally getting that off his chest, Dean glanced at his sister and almost did a double take. His eyes snapped back to the road to make sure that he wasn’t veering off course, even as his right hand left the steering wheel to grasp her hand. “Hey,” he tried to soothe. “I didn’t tell you this to make you cry.”
“Oh it’s not that,” Max denied immediately, trying to wipe the tears away surreptitiously. “It’s just…”
“Just what?”
“You’re lucky,” Max declared. “In a way,” she hurried on at the frown on his face. “To at least have something of your moms.” She sighed and glanced out her window. “I don’t have anything…”
“Hey,” Dean whispered. He nudged her hand and she glanced back at him as he pushed her fingers apart so that he could hold them loosely in his own. “You’ve got us, right?” Max slowly gave in to a half-smile that crept along her mouth.
“Yeah, and I’m a lucky kid,” she muttered, and then gave a short laugh. Dean grinned as the moment passed, though he didn’t let go of her hand. It was a comforting feeling, her slight hand in his own larger one. There was silence as Dean continued to drive, but it wasn’t long before Max broke it once again.
“So your Mom’s ring is pretty cool,” she declared. “I like the style.”
“Actually, it’s different from what Mom wore,” Dean informed her. “That’s why it took so long. They had to melt it down and reshape it. Use a little more silver.”
“And who paid for this masterpiece?” Max teased, wondering which credit card Dean had put it on. But he looked genuinely surprised as he answered.
“Me, I paid for it,” he snorted. He softened under her quizzical gaze. He shrugged. “It just didn’t feel right to, you know. And with the way Sammy feels about our scams…” he left off, knowing that Max was fully aware of Sam’s moral high ground rants.
“Well I’m glad you changed it,” Max chuckled. “I just couldn’t see Sammy wearing a woman’s ring.”
“Do you really think I’d be so cruel?” Dean laughed. “I mean yeah, Sammy’s effeminate, but that’s just pushing things too far.”
“Oh you would so,” Max retorted. “If it were any other ring, you would. I think you changed the style so that Dad wouldn’t hurt so much every time he saw it.”
Her statement hung in the air between them for a moment and Dean absorbed what she had said. It was the exact reason. He turned to grace her with a wistful smile as he squeezed her hand. “You know me well kiddo.”
*****
With the windows rolled down, the whipping breeze rushing through their hair, Dean and Max were more relaxed than they’d been in a long time. Max let her eyelids rest at a fluttering half-mast as Dean completed the drive to meet up with their father and Sam. She’d written down the directions that John had given them the evening before when they’d called him, even though they weren’t difficult. Dean had read them over once and was confidently now pulling into the motel that John had checked into under the name Don McMillan.
But even as the Impala rolled to a stop, they were instantly on alert as very familiar, very angry voices disturbed the air around them. The pair shared a glance as fissions of panic swept through them. The door to their family’s room was ajar and they could hear Sammy shouting. But as they clambered out of the car, John’s raised voice answered and their panic turned to resignment.
‘Not again,’ was the unspoken declaration they shared.
Max followed behind her brother, just on the off chance that it wasn’t what they thought, but the scene that greeted them was so much more disturbing. John was standing at the foot of the bed, farthest from the door, facing off with his son, who stood at the head of the bed, throwing things in his duffel bag.
“… live with this obsession of yours any more!” Sam was yelling.
“This damn thing killed your mother!” John roared back. “And we have no idea why. We have no clue who it will hurt next. Samuel, it’s not safe!”
Max heard Dean’s indrawn breath. In the whole time that Max had lived with the Winchester’s, she’d never heard John use Sam’s full name like that. It didn’t bode well.
“No!” Sam railed back, not even seeming to notice his sibling’s entrance. “It killed your wife! She was only my mother for a few months and in eighteen years of life, that ain’t much!”
The vituperous words stunned them all, Sam included. His eyes flickered away from his father, seeing the stunned hurt in his brother’s face and then glancing guiltily down at the floor. But the words were said and he couldn’t take them back. Recovering whatever determination that was giving strength to this latest episode, Sam gathered up the handles of his bag.
“I’m going!” he declared and pushed past his dumbfounded father. But as he made it to the doorway, where Max and Dean instinctively parted, John’s strangled voice made him pause.
“If you walk out that door,” John growled. “If you leave us… don’t even think about coming back.”
Max could see Sam’s jaw clenching and unclenching as he was thrown the most damning of options. His head turned slightly to look, to plead silently with his brother. And Dean, still trying to process the anger, the hurt, couldn’t give Sam what he needed. Without another glance around, Sam left.
Max watched forlornly as the family split apart. Sam had gotten no more than half a block away as she and Dean stood numbly in the doorway, when John shouldered past them, threw himself into his truck and pealed out, in the opposite direction.
She stared; fear gnawing in the pit of her stomach as Dean slowly sank to the floor. Nervously nibbling on the inside of her cheek, she knew that she couldn’t stay still. Throwing herself towards the Impala, she impatiently yanked open the back door. She rifled through her pack and once she’d found what she wanted, slammed the car door shut and raced after her brother.
She caught up to him at the corner, softly calling his name. He paused and when she reached him, he refused to turn back. So she simply stepped around him, stunned to see the tears streaming freely down his face. Feeling the tears welling up in her own eyes, she stepped forward, her arms open in acceptance and Sam gratefully engulfed her with his larger frame.
“I’m sorry Maxie,” he cried harshly.
“It’s okay,” she tried to soothe.
“I’m so sorry,” he repeated. “But I have to go.”
“I know,” she responded, even though the words felt just plain wrong to her. It didn’t feel right and went against everything she had hoped for. It went against all the feelings inside her about family staying together. But she also knew that she couldn’t stop him. Sam was slowly dying, poisoned on the inside from his father’s vendetta. “I know.”
She pulled back from him and when Sam dared raise his eyes to meet hers, she smiled tremulously at him. She held out the wad of cash that she’d grabbed from her bag and offered it to him. Sam just stared down at it for a moment.
“Max,” he whined softly. “I can’t take this.” He pushed her hand away.
“Yes you can,” she told him sternly, pushing it back towards him. “Please Sam,” she uttered, softening her tone. “I just need to know that you’ll be okay. The semester doesn’t start for a while and I really don’t want to think about you starving in the street because you were too proud to take help from your baby sister.”
That got a strangled laugh from him.
“It’s all straight up winnings,” she promised. “No scams.” Still he hesitated. Max pulled his hand up and placed the money in it. “For me? Please?”
Finally his fingers closed around the cash. “Just for you,” he agreed. Without bothering to count the amount, knowing by the feel of it that there was a lot there, Sam stuffed it into his pocket. His arms wrapped around Max’s slight frame again as he pulled her in close for another hug. “You understand, right?” he whispered into her hair.
She didn’t. But at the same time, she did and so she nodded, her throat too tight for words. When the moment and his arms eased from around her, she smiled bravely up at him. “Now,” she sighed, “you know my number and I have yours. You promise to call me as soon as you’re settled? So I know you’re okay?”
“I will,” Sam assured her.” I promise.” He glanced back at the direction they’d come from. “I have to go. The bus leaves…” Max nodded and Sam licked at suddenly dry lips. “Take care of them. Of Dad and Dean? And yourself of course.”
“I will,” Max vowed. She reached up on tiptoe to kiss her brother’s cheek. “You go make us proud, okay?” Sam nodded once more and then slipped away.
Max watched him cross the street before she forced herself to turn around and head back to her other brother. The one that possibly needed her more right now than the hurting Sammy did. As she approached the motel, she was stunned to see Dean still hunched to the ground, in the doorway of their room.
She stepped carefully over his legs, and then crouched down beside him. She noticed immediately, the jeweler’s box that must have slipped from suddenly nerveless fingers. She scooped it up and held it out to him.
“Dean, there’s still time,” she whispered, but Dean cut her off.
“It doesn’t matter,” he whispered back, not looking at all at her, but unfocused at the door frame opposite him.
“It does so,” she snapped back, more harshly than she had intended. Her brother’s eyes flashed angrily and he snatched the ring box from her hand and threw it across the room.
“It doesn’t matter!” he yelled before he jerked his head away again.
Stunned, Max fell back, sitting completely. She had heard the dull thump of the box hitting the wall, but more was the small whimper of internal aching pain from her brother.
She crawled over to where the ring box had fallen. Thankfully, it wasn’t damaged. She scooped it back up and returned to her brother. “It does matter Dean,” she tried again. “It matters because he’s still your brother. He’s still your mother’s son. No matter what, she loved him, just like you do. If you didn’t, then his leaving wouldn’t hurt you so bad.”
“Max don’t,” Dean moaned.
Max pulled open the box and removed the ring from its nestled setting. “Everything you told me about your mom,” she continued, holding the ring up. “And about this ring, one day you’ll tell him.” She sighed as he didn’t respond. Suddenly inspired she grabbed his right hand, the one that only a day before, had held hers in sympathy, in caring and carefree and slowly slid the ring home. “And Dean, she’s your mom too. She’d understand that you have the right to feel hurt about what Sammy did. She’d understand.” Her brother’s fist closed reflexively, feeling the new weight adorning it. “He’s only gone if you let him go from your heart Dean,” she whispered.
And at last she seemed to have reached him as he crumpled forward into her arms. It took every strength and every power she never knew existed inside her not to howl like a baby as her beloved older brother, her rock and the best friend she knew she could ever have, broke in her arms.
Chapter Twenty-three
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