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. There is also some information taken from or based upon the Dark Angel books, which do not belong to me. No profits are made from this fiction and it is intended for private enjoyment only. Also, some ideas and happenings were taken from the Dark Angel books, which belong to the author of said books and not to me.
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: Dean/ Max, Sam/ Jess
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-eight
The Good Father
John swore to himself as he heard his cell phone ringing. Wasn’t it just typical that it rang when he wasn’t in any position to get to it? “Dean?” he called, wondering if his son was back from retrieving a take-out lunch yet. But he hadn’t heard the car return, or anyone moving about in the motel room they’d taken.
Normally John wouldn’t have been in the bathtub, but the morning’s fruitless efforts had ended up in a sewer. John had borne the stink long enough to magnanimously allow his son to use the facilities first. But then he’d sent Dean out and allowed himself a luxurious half-hour after a desperate shower to rid the majority of the stench and gunk from his body.
Hearing it ring again, John sat upright and wondered if he had time to get out and get it before whoever was calling was transferred to voicemail. It was set to ring five times before that occurred and it had ringed twice. It was almost fruitless to try. But at the same time, John would need to answer, because it might be something important. So he went ahead in the process of getting out of the tub and finding his towel and heading out to the main room.
It was almost comical, the way the bathroom door and the front door opened at the same time. Dean and John stared one another for a moment before Dean entered and kicked the main door shut behind himself. John didn’t worry about the bathroom door, just padded over on bare feet to the table where he’d left his phone. He didn’t care one whit that he was leaving wet footprints everywhere he stepped.
“Heard the phone,” Dean commented absently as he set the take-away box on the table. John could smell the prominent flavors of Mexican food wafting over to him. Judging by that the food was in boxes, instead of bags, John figured Dean must have found a more authentic restaurant than the fast food chain.
“Couldn’t get out of the tub in time,” John explained curtly as he anchored his towel before picking up the phone. The view screen informed him that he had missed a call from a number he didn’t recognize and that he had one new voicemail.
“Who was it?” Dean asked, noting his father’s frown.
“Don’t know,” he shrugged. “I’m sure I’ll find out.” All he did recognize about the phone was that it had a California area code. It crossed his mind briefly that perhaps Max had been unable to use her cell phone and was calling from elsewhere. He pushed the appropriate buttons, completely shocked to hear his youngest son’s voice. Dean made another noise, preparing to ask something, but John waved a hand at him with quick, sure motions. Effectively telling him to shut up while John listened to the startling message.
As the information Sam was passing along began to come together for John, he crossed the room to the television and switched it on. He muted the sound and began flipping through the channels, obviously looking for something. But whatever it was, it wasn’t there and so he shut the television off again, just as he shut off the phone. The snap of the plastic meeting plastic echoed loudly in the room.
“Son of a bitch,” John swore softly.
“Everything okay?” Dean asked laconically, digging into his food. “Who was that?”
“It was Sammy,” John replied, momentarily amused at Dean’s shock, despite the information he’d just been given.
“Ah, is everything okay?” Dean hesitantly repeated his original question. He’d stopped all motion, knowing the enormity of his younger brother voluntarily contacting their father. It could only be bad news.
“No it’s not,” John sighed heavily. “They’re all okay,” John assured his eldest as quickly as he could, knowing how Dean could jump to conclusions, or storm off half-cocked. ‘But it’s bad news nonetheless.”
“What’s going on?” Dean demanded, leaning forward to encourage his father to hurry up and tell him before there was trouble of the temper tantrum type.
“Sam said that Max saw a news report from Seattle,” John explained, going over the points Sam had made in his mind again. “Someone died and she’s convinced it’s her brother Seth.” He paused to let that sink in. “She’s on her way there now to find out what happened.”
Dean’s eyes fluttered close as he threw his fork down. “Oh son of a bitch,” he groaned. John half-smiled. His sentiments exactly. “Hell, she’s gotta be going nuts.”
John had realized that as well and he had dialed his daughter’s number, saying to Dean as he put the phone up to his ear, “Sam said she’d call us when she got there.” Dean nodded and picked up his fork to toy with the food. John waited as patiently as he could, but Max’s phone continued to ring. Finally it kicked him over to voicemail. Taking a deep breath, he listened to her strong voice directing him to leave his name and number.
“Hey, it’s Dad,” he finally spoke after the beep indicated it was time. “I just heard from Sam. Call me as soon as you can and we’ll figure out what to do, okay? Love you and take care.”
“She took it off auto-answer?” Dean surmised, looking a little disappointed.
“Or it’s shut off so she won’t be distracted,” John figured. Suddenly he slammed his hand on the table. “Damn it! We need to finish this case, on the double.”
Dean was about to argue, but his mouth closed as he realized that his father was right. If Seth were dead, there was nothing they could do about that particular fact. Yes, he, they wanted to be there for Max, whatever she had to deal with. But at the same time, this thing they were hunting had killed in the past and by all indications would kill again. They needed to take care of it. Now, if Max or Sammy were in danger, Dean knew that both he and John would say to hell with everyone else. But that hopefully wasn’t the case, nor at any time would it be.
*****
It took them longer than they’d hoped to get done with their current case. John had heard from Max, telling him that she’d finally reached Seattle. The body had been taken already from the medical examiners office, had already been claimed. Whoever had done that had also taken all records of the incident. She’d been thinking of talking to the police, but if whoever had taken the body had been able to command the files, then the police might be out of the loop. And then there was also the fact that she didn’t know what name Seth had been using. Without knowing that, there was no way that she could prove her relationship to him and therefore, no reason that the police would talk to her about an ongoing case. She had joked with John that she could always break into police headquarters and steal whatever information they’d compiled that was off the record. John had the sensation that she wasn’t actually totally joking about that. So he’d simply warned her to be careful and let them know what she found out.
Two weeks after that, John had called her again, asking how things were progressing. Aside from the fact that Max believed that Seth may have been working for someone else, after all, why would her brother have been in a situation like the one that had led to his death, there was nothing new on that front.
It was… interesting at least, to hear that she’d made friends already. And had gotten a temporary job.
“Well how on earth did that come about?” John asked about the roommate, slightly amused. Max had explained that she was working a normal job because she needed to make some cash and didn’t have time to set up any scams and didn’t feel that using her credit card for so long in one place was a good idea. John had agreed with her there.
“Well,” Max drawled, amused as well. “I stopped for a coke at this roadhouse bar. And some guys were giving me trouble.” She stopped and chuckled. John’s eyes met Dean’s, both of them wearing identical smirks. Dean bit his lower lip so that he wouldn’t make the smart ass remark that was hovering on his lips. John had asked Max once and only once if she wanted to talk to Dean. She really wasn’t ready yet. But John didn’t feel like replaying every nuance of every conversation that he had with Max for his son. So whenever they talked in general, he let Dean listen in.
“So what did you do?” John asked wryly. He could almost see the scene playing out in his mind. His daughter walks in. Kicks ass, has a coke and merrily goes on her way.
“Well, there was another girl there, just got out of the Marines,” Max explained. John made an approving sort of gurgle. “We pretty much kicked ass, had a drink and talked.”
“And what did you end up talking about?”
“Well, her name is Cindy McEachin,” Max explained. “She was heading back to Seattle, where she’d lived before. I told her I was on my way there too. So we decided to travel together.”
“Okay,” John sighed. He knew that there was no need to remind Max to watch what she said; it was so naturally ingrained in the girl.
“So we stopped again, that night, just on the outskirts of Seattle,” Max continued. “There was a little diner and we were hungry. Anyway, there was this big trucker manhandling the waitress. And her boss was giving her a hard time. Well, it kind of pissed me off, so OC and I got into it again.”
“OC?” John questioned, even as Dean was mouthing the same thing.
Max laughed gaily. “Yeah, her Originalness.” She paused and then explained further. “That’s what her friends call her. Original Cindy.”
“Oh, okay,” John shook his head at how outlandish it all seemed.
“Anyway, long boring story short, Kendra, the waitress got fired, didn’t really care and as a thank you for defending her honor, extended the offer to stay with her while we tried to find a place to live or whatever.”
“So you’re staying with Kendra?” John asked carefully.
“Yeah, Kendra Mabaum,” Max clarified. “OC already had a crib to go to, but she’s the one that hooked me up with a job.”
“And what job is that?” John demanded.
“Bike messenger,” Max replied with a harsh snort. “Minimum wage, slave driving boss who ‘bips’ at me and crappy tips. I even had to get my own bike.”
“Why don’t you use your motorcycle?” John asked curiously.
“Because it made Normal crap his pants the first time I rode up on it,” Max chuckled.
John heard the inflection, indicating that Normal was some sort of person. “And who is Normal?” he asked with a grin.
“Oh you’ll get a kick out of this,” Max giggled. “Normal is my boss at Jam Pony. His name,” she paused for the theatrical value, “is Reagan Ronald. And his idol… is George Bush Sr.”
“Reagan Ronald?” John repeated dubiously.
“Uh huh,” Max confirmed. “Yeah, I heard from the other workers that he’s been writing to the government, trying to get Bush Sr.’s birthday declared a national holiday. Except then he realized that he’d have to give everyone that day off, so now he’s trying to get it made into national work-a-holic day or something. You know? What his idol stands for or something.”
John just shook his head. “Like an anti-Labor Day holiday?”
“Exactly,” Max crowed triumphantly. “But anyway, I scared him riding into the building with OC and he banned my bike from work ever since.”
“Well that’s not fair,” John growled softly. “Just because he’s a pansy ass…” He had to pull the phone away as his son choked on some subdued laughter.
“Totally agreeing with you there,” Max responded. “But it’s not so bad. Keeps me busy when I’m not looking for information about Seth.”
“Any more leads on that?” John asked, switching topics with her easily.
“Nothing yet,” Max sighed. “But someone did recommend a P.I. to me.”
“An investigator?” John didn’t quite like the sound of that. He’d learned over the years that it was better to find the information yourself. That way you had it all and didn’t have to rely on hoping that the other person wasn’t working their own agenda.
“I know,” Max seemed to understand his hesitation. “But I’m thinking, I keep hitting dead ends. The problem is I don’t know who knows what around here. I don’t know whose palms to grease. This guy might have better luck with that.”
“That’s true,” John conceded. “Oh, one reason I called,” he continued, switching topics again. “We’re going to be up your way next week. Did you want us to drop off the rest of your stuff?”
“My stuff?” Max asked, sounding a little alarmed.
“Your books and things that wouldn’t fit on your bike,” John clarified. He glanced at Dean, who seemed to be holding his breath as he waited for Max to answer.
“Oh, yeah,” she murmured. “That’d be fine. I gave you my address, right?”
“You did,” John nodded. “But I’m not too familiar with Seattle.”
“Well, why don’t you give me a call when you hit town and we can go from there,” Max decided. John and Dean heard a slight beeping noise in the background on her end. “Shoot, I gotta go. Normal’s paging me.”
“You have a pager now?” John asked, vastly amused by that for some reason.
“We all do,” Max chuckled. “He’s a little anal when it comes to controlling us deadbeat anti-work morons.”
“Since when have you ever been against working?” John growled, outraged that someone could lump his child into that assumption.
“If given the choice between being Normal’s lackey and being a deadbeat like the others,” Max explained, “well, it’s obvious what I’ve chosen. Unfortunately, it’s a commission type job. If I want to get paid, I deliver the packages. I just rebel in my own way, you know?”
“I can just imagine,” John smirked. Dean was nodding his head slightly, definitely agreeing with his father. “Okay, so we’ll see you some time next week.”
There was just the most infinitesimal pause on her part. “Yeah, sounds good. Bye Dad.”
“Bye honey.” John disconnected the call and set his phone on the table, watching as his son abruptly turned away from him and moved over to his bed to fiddle with his duffel bag.
“Sounds like she’s settling in, huh?” Dean asked, his tone brighter than it usually was.
“Sounds like,” John confirmed.
“An apartment, a job, friends,” Dean continued, his shoulders starting to slump with each admission. John could hear the unspoken desperation in his son’s thoughts. With all that, what would she need them for?
“But not her family,” he argued softly. “And you and I both know that means more to Max than anything else on this planet.”
“Yeah,” Dean agreed, turning his head to regard his father over his shoulder. “But which family?”
John blinked slowly. Maybe Dean was right. Blood always told. If she had the choice, would Max walk away from them if she found someone from her past? He’d like to think that she wouldn’t. That she would make the choice to blend those lives together somehow. But given what they did, what motivated them, how could she explain that to one of her siblings that had no idea what went on in this world? John was still feeling the loss of Sammy, he just wasn’t ready to let go of Max yet.
He inhaled deeply, wondering if ever there would be a day that he’d lose Dean like this as well. Regarding the man his son had become, he didn’t think it likely. But in a way, he wished that he would. Out of all three of his kids, wasn’t it Dean who deserved most a home he could call his own? He’d been forever following after John on this quest, this hunt. He’d rarely ever complained that he missed things in his life that other kids took for granted. Didn’t the kid deserve to have a little normal for himself now and then? The answer was hell yeah, but John just couldn’t see how he’d ever accomplish that.
*****
Max was jittery. There was no use denying it. When people she barely worked with commented on it, she knew that she wasn’t hiding it well. John had called just ten minutes ago, asking where she wanted to meet them. Them! Meaning that Dean was most definitely with him. This, of course, was obvious, since John had never made a secret of the fact that he and Dean would be coming together. But Max, by concentrating on other things, had managed to put off thinking about the arrival of her… What could she call him? The sibling bond they’d established had been thoroughly destroyed by her actions that night. Perhaps the friendship as well. Although, from the way John had spoken, Dean didn’t feel that way. She couldn’t call him lover or boyfriend, since, well heat, it was more like one night stand. And while it was exactly that, never before had Dean thought of the woman he had engaged in said activity with, the next morning. And since John had asked her if she wanted to talk to Dean and she had heard no protest on their end, Max had to assume that Dean was still thinking about her. Unless of course he’d been making a silent protest that of course, being on the other end of the phone, she wouldn’t have been able to see. But there had been no covering or hurrying on of the conversation on John’s part at that point. Unless John was trying to get them talking “for their own good”. He did things like that occasionally. Max sighed. She was just going to give herself a headache thinking like this. All she could do was wait for them to show up, see how Dean acted and take it from there. She just hoped that she could handle a cut direct from him. Well, she consoled herself, even if she lost this brother, she still had Sammy.
Thoughts of losing family naturally turned her mind back to Seth and her search for information on her lost transgenic brother. She’d managed to find a fence that had mentioned that a kid who used to bring him cherry items had recently disappeared. So when Max had brought him a few nice items, he was happy to accept a new “business associate”. Max wondered if maybe she could entice the guy into having a few beers with her. Maybe get him to loosen up some. Her attention to that problem was dragged away as she heard a familiar voice calling her name. Sketch and Theo had ridden up and were snapping their fingers in her direction.
Max grinned as she took in her new friends. Inside and out, they were totally different from one another. Different ethnic backgrounds, social backgrounds. Sketch was a total lanky assed stoner, while Theo was a more compactly built muscular guy. And while Sketch roamed the streets like a mangy tomcat on the prowl, Theo was a totally devoted family man. This reminded Max of the reason she wanted to talk to Theo today.
“Hey man!” she greeted.
“Hey Maxie,” Theo returned. Sketch added his own greetings before excusing himself to go talk to another new hire, Dahlia. She wasn’t giving him the time of day, but poor Sketch just couldn’t resist. “You up for lunch? Jacinda made extra.” He told her, referring to his wife.
Max began to gather some items out of her locker. “Actually, I’m meeting my dad and brother. They should be here soon.”
“Ah cool,” Theo grinned. Ever since he’d been assigned by Normal to show the new girls the ropes, he’d learned very little about Max. Cindy had done plenty of talking for the both of them. A naturally affable and outgoing guy, Theo had been with Jam Pony for years and tended to take the newcomers under his wing. “So, do we get to meet them?”
“If you want,” Max shrugged, though inside it sounded like a wonderful idea. No one could make a scene that way. Theo would act as an excellent buffer. “I’m gonna wait outside for them though. Don’t want Normal scaring them off.”
“Good idea chica,” Theo grinned. He took a moment to hang his bike on the rack provided and retrieved his own lunch from his locker and then followed her outside after they both informed Normal that they were on lunch. As Theo took a seat on a discarded stool in the alleyway, Max leaned against the wall.
“So I was looking for you earlier,” Max opened up a new topic. Theo glanced up at her from where he was laying a sandwich across a paper napkin on his lap. His politely interested face encouraged her to continue. “You know those neighbors of mine?”
“Those loud party animals?” Theo grinned. He’d heard Max complain once or twice about them, more so from Kendra when she joined them at the crew’s favorite bar, The Crash.
“Yeah,” Max confirmed, wrinkling her nose slightly. They didn’t bother her so much, as she didn’t need quiet to sleep on those rare occasions that she did sleep, but tripping over their guests passed out in the hallway wasn’t fun. “Well, the Super finally evicted them.”
Theo’s interest went from conversational to bloodhound in less than a second. “You serious?” Max grinned as he couldn’t hide his eager tone.
“Yeah,” she nodded. “I talked to him this morning. Told him that I had a really good friend, excellent work ethic, family man with a little boy who would love to move in immediately.”
“Oh man,” Theo breathed. He looked as if one of his dreams was coming true and in a way, it was. But like many other people he had learned… “That’s too good to be true. What’s the catch?”
Max tilted her head. “Well, there was some damage to the master bedroom wall and some trouble with the piping in the bathroom.” Theo’s eyes darkened slightly as he tried to figure out where she was going with that. “So I convinced my Super that it would be a hell of a lot cheaper to waive the deposit fee and have the new tenant fix and clean the place up than to contract a crew to fix it.” Theo’s face brightened again. “So if you want to move in, just give me the go ahead and I’ll call him.”
“Oh my God Max,” Theo’s grin covered his entire face, is whole countenance beaming like the sun. “Oh Jacinda’s going to flip! We’ve been trying to move into a bigger place ever since before Omar was born.”
“I know,” Max drawled laconically.
“This is awesome!” Theo continued to enthuse. Lunch forgotten, Theo jumped to his feet to engulf Max in a huge hug. Max returned it easily, chuckling at his excitement. Being cramped in a tiny one bedroom apartment hadn’t been easy for the young family, even though they never complained. Nearly crushing her with one last squeeze, Theo pulled back slightly. “You are the best girl ever Maxie Gueverra!” And still unable to contain his enthusiasm, Theo planted a huge kiss on her cheek.
“Easy Theo,” Max laughed. “You’ll give people the wrong idea.”
“Exactly what I was thinking,” interrupted a new voice. Max turned her head, as did Theo to regard the newcomer. The way Max’s face lit up, Theo could only assume who this person was, although his years and slight frown of suspicion gave him more clues.
Max extricated herself from Theo’s hug and turned to greet her father. “Hey Dad. This is my friend and co-worker, Theo. Theo, my dad, John.” Theo politely extended a hand which John shook briefly.
“Nice to meet you sir,” Theo nodded. He turned back to Max. “Hey, Crash tonight? Drinks on me.” He turned to include John. “Everyone’s welcome.” John gave a non-committal smile and glanced at Max.
“We’ll see,” she said.
“All right!” Theo crowed. “If you’ll excuse me, I have a few calls to make. Max, you rock!” Both John and Max watched as Theo scooped up the lunch that his wife had lovingly prepared and hustled himself back into the building they’d so recently exited,
John turned to his daughter, noting the look of apprehension on her face. He decided to go with the easy one first. “Gueverra?” he asked.
Max’s face cleared and she shook her head once while shrugging one shoulder. “I used a fake id at the bar I stopped at. Cindy saw it, so I kept using it. When we got here to apply, she introduced us and I’ve been using it ever since.”
John nodded. “And Theo?” was his next query.
“Was just informed that a sweet apartment in my building opened up, so he, his wife and their son can move in and finally have some more space, since they’re in a one bedroom now” commented Max with a smile
“Ah,” was his only comment.
“So,” Max swallowed around the lump that was in her throat. It was now sinking in that her Dad was really here. And where John led, Dean would always follow. “Where’s um… Dean?”
John frowned down at her, his face puzzled and quickly glanced around. He had thought that Dean had been following just after him. Since John knew sort of where to go, Dean had allowed him to lead in his truck. When they’d arrived, John had paused momentarily at the mouth of the alleyway to the entrance of Jam Pony so that Dean could see where he was heading while he’d parked the Impala. But perhaps he’d remained in his car. His eldest hadn’t said so, but John knew that the boy was nervous about seeing Max again. Excited but nervous.
“He’s probably still in the car,” John shrugged. “Shall we go?”
“Yeah,” Max nodded, silently exhaling a breath of relief. Another moment in which she could put off confronting that huge white elephant. She followed after her father as he led her to the truck.
*****
Dean sat motionless in the driver’s seat of the Impala. After John had turned down the final street on their way to their destination and pulled into an empty spot at a curb, Dean had pulled a quick u-turn and managed to park across the street. He’d gotten out of the car, seen his father paused at the alleyway and he’d quickly jogged across the street to follow, but what he’d seen as he had glanced down the alley had stopped him cold.
He’d been too far to hear the words passing between his girl and another guy and immediately jealousy reared its ugly head. Dean’s jaw had tightened as he saw Max receive a kiss from the bastard, with no protest on her part. Just a laugh. He automatically took one step forward, not even realizing that his body was reacting in accordance of age old proprietary male countenance of protecting what was his. But once it did register with him, he stopped himself short.
He had to stop. He had to think. John had warned him so many times about going off half-cocked, with only partial information. All he had seen was some guy getting enthusiastic with Max. She obviously had to know him, since she hadn’t kicked the guy’s ass all over the street. Realizing that, Dean knew that he needed a moment to think this through. With another glance at Max hugging his dad, a smile gracing his face for a moment, Dean retreated to the car. Besides, his mind taunted him; wouldn’t a private reunion with Max be far better than one in an alleyway? At least that way, no one would be around to see him humiliated if she rejected him.
The thought left him breathless and he gripped the steering wheel, hating himself for giving into the negativity. He winced as he realized how much of a pansy ass he was turning into over this girl. But unfortunately, since she had run off, leaving him with memories of a night he had dreamed of for years and nothing else, could anyone blame him? Dean hated not knowing where he stood. He hated vacillating between being sure of his love for her to questioning if any existed at all on her part. Moment from moment doubts had plagued him, none of it getting any better or easier the longer she stayed away. Hearing her voice when she called John had been bittersweet. He couldn’t laugh and joke with her, confide in her, couldn’t say one damn word for fear that she’d freak out and stop calling. What he needed to do was confront her once and for all. Get it all out in the open and figure out where to go from there. Because no matter whom the girl in question was, being a twenty-four hour a day, romantically driven sop was not Dean Winchester’s style.
And for all that decisiveness, Dean missed the tense, hopeful smile and small wave that Max had thrown his way when she’d spotted him across the street from John’s truck. Had missed the way the smile had slowly faded from her face at being so totally ignored. Had missed the heavy swallow of disappointment as she climbed into the passenger side of the truck. What he didn’t miss was his father honking the horn at him to catch his attention that they were once again on their way.
Max directed her father to her apartment building with short monosyllabic directions. John puzzled at her sudden abrupt behavioral change. And he was pretty sure that he knew why that was. He’d also seen Dean, wrapped up in some thought, totally ignoring them. He’d honked at his son when he’d been ready to pull out, saw the startled features glancing their way. He’d pulled out, moving slowly to allow his son time to get turned around. And then they’d been off. Max would tell him when to turn, but that was about it. And since John figured that he was getting too old and frustrated to play mediator between the kids, let her have her silence. But by hell they were going to get this settled and damn soon.
They pulled up to, well it wasn’t the nicest apartment building in the word, but it was serviceable. There were faint marks of graffiti that had obviously been painted over adorning one wall of the building. And there was a chain link fence surrounding it. Not that it did any good, since the gate stood open. There was no parking in the immediate vicinity for the tenant’s that John could see. But the street was fairly empty for that time of day and John pulled in and cut the engine.
“So how far do we have to lug these boxes up?” he asked genially.
“Oh, um, third floor,” Max replied, coming out of her funk when she realized they were there.
“Is your roommate home?” John continued to ask as he climbed out of the truck and moved around back to retrieve one of the boxes of books that he’d been hauling.
“Not today,” Max shook her head. “She’s got a gig temping at the elementary school today. Apparently you don’t need your teacher’s license here to sub.”
“You don’t in a lot of places,” John answered. “Is that what she does?”
“Actually, for a while yeah,” Max nodded. “But then she decided that she had a better head for languages and decided to become an interpreter. Only problem is, the jobs are kind of slow in that field at the moment.”
“Well I’m sure it’ll pick up eventually,” John nodded as he dropped the tailgate to allow easier access. They were both aware of the Impala coming along the street towards them.
“Why don’t I go ahead and get the doors,” Max decided hurriedly, not giving John a chance to argue. She was off like a shot. John sighed heavily. He was about at the end of his patience with the pair of them. If this kept on much longer, he was liable to bang their heads together and hopefully knock some sense into them.
Dean watched Max hurry off to the building, pulling her keys from her pocket as she did so. He pulled in smoothly behind his father’s vehicle.
Climbing out of the Impala, he met his father in the road.
“What’s up?” he asked, a little harshly.
“She’s going to open the doors,” John replied calmly. “Look, Dean, let me talk to her alone for a few minutes. I’ll leave the door open. Third floor.” He made to follow his daughter while Dean glared at him, frustrated.
“And what the hell am I supposed to do?” he demanded loudly.
“Pack her stuff in,” John swung around and favored his eldest with a smirk, before turning back. He carried with him one small box of forgotten clothing. After he caught up to Max, who was holding the door open for him, he held it out before himself. “Is it okay if we wedge the door open? That way Dean can get everything in and then we can move it up.”
“That’d be fine,” Max nodded, glad at the momentary reprieve. “I didn’t think there was that much I’d forgotten though.”
John shrugged. “Well… I was kind of hoping I could leave some of my stuff with you. Gets kind of annoying packing along tons of books and crap that we seem to keep accumulating.”
“Your stuff?” Max smiled. Since when did her father carry extraneous things along with him on the hunt?
“Hey, I read too I’ll have you know,” John teased and then sobered. “Actually, I never realized how many books I found, read and then threw in the back of the truck once I was done.”
“How many?” Max asked as she led him to the elevators.
“Couple boxes,” John shrugged. “You can read any that you like if you want. Or hell, throw them out. I guess I really don’t care.”
“Why waste good money,” Max grinned. She was always on the prowl for something new to read. She pressed the button for the third floor, the ride not as quiet as some she’d had, but it accomplished the goal. She led John to her apartment, once again employing her keys. The door opened immediately into the entryway with the kitchen off to their right. John could see that it was typically West Coast small. But then, two girls on their own didn’t really need much.
“Bathrooms over there,” Max pointed out, gesturing to the closed door just behind the kitchen. “That’s my room,” she told him, pointing next to the open door past a short wall at which a table and a few chairs had been set. “Kendra’s room over there,” she swung her arm and pointed to the only other door just to their left. That left the living room which contained a sofa, a chair and a desk pressed up against the large bay window.
“Not bad,” John smiled. He stepped all the way in, leaving the door slightly ajar, an indication for Dean of which apartment he was to come to.
“So did you want to eat here or go out?” Max asked breezily. “I think I can throw something together. In fact it might be better, ‘cause I’ll have to be back to work before too long.”
“Yeah, that’s fine,” John replied hastily. He really wanted to settle a few things with Max. And the more he saw her in these surroundings, the more he believed that he was going to be getting answers he might not like. He followed her to the kitchen, going the opposite way around the island that separated kitchen and living room. He found several stools under the counter ledge and pulled one out to perch on. “Max, what’s going on? What are you doing?”
Max flinched at the question, but determinedly pasted on a bright smile as she straightened up from the refrigerator. “I’m making lunch. What does it look like?”
“No,” John’s voice was quiet. “I mean, what are you doing here? You’ve really settled in. Is this what you really want?”
Max turned to face her father, setting the lunch meat, tomatoes and margarine she’d gathered on the island between them. “I don’t know,” she answered quietly, honestly. She fiddled with the packages a moment. “Maybe,” she admitted hesitantly. She echoed John’s sigh, realizing that at this point, there was just no more putting it off. No more chances to evade the issue. “When I was in California, with Sam and Jess,” she began slowly,” we talked about this.”
John held his silence, waiting to see where she went with this. He assumed that she must have been referring to Sam, because she’d never discussed things like this with him.
“Sam wanted to know too if I was ready to settle down,” she gave John an apologetic smile. “I think it all boils down to… Seth.”
“What about him?” John asked cautiously. Had she learned something new about her brother that she hadn’t shared yet with him?
“Dad,” Max began with a pained look on her face. “This is the first time that I’ve ever had any clues about where they might be. And I have to know. If I stay here…” she took a deep breath. “I think I might have better luck finding my family if I’m in one place.”
“We’ve never stopped you from looking for them before,” John pointed out, slightly hurt.
“I know,” Max hastened to reassure him. “But I think that’s why I failed to find them.”
“What do you mean?”
“We were always moving around,” Max shrugged awkwardly. “And that was fine. But I was never in one place long enough it seemed to ever find anything out. If I stay here, then I’ll have the time to look. It won’t always be…”
John knew exactly what she would have said. The same thing Sammy had said. With him, it was always about the hunt. He glanced away, knowing the heaviness in his heart, knowing that once again he was losing another child. But this time, having learned from his mistakes with Sam, he knew that he had to handle it different… better.
“Max,” he began,
“Dad, ever since we met, I’ve been looking for them,” Max interrupted quickly, her eyes beseeching. “You can’t ask me to give that up.”
The words hung unspoken between them. Just like I wouldn’t ask you to give up looking for the thing that killed your wife.
John nodded slowly. “I understand. But, what about Dean?”
“What about him?” Max asked harshly, bluntly. Tensing at the moment.
“Hell Max,” John gave a low grunting laugh, “The boy’s dead gone in love with you.”
Max was startled at the word John had thrown out and felt a brief soaring in her soul. Love, he was in…But just as quickly she shook her head. No, it couldn’t be true. There would have been signs of it, wouldn’t there? It had just been the pheromones. He’d been reacting to the apparently irresistible scent she’d been emitting. It was just… “A mistake Dad,” she snarled. “That’s all that night was. A huge mistake. It shouldn’t have happened, but it did. And maybe...,” her voice softened as tears threatened. “Maybe saying that it was love was just the best way to make it acceptable. But it’s not acceptable and it won’t ever be. I can’t…”
John was on his feet and around the counter separating them in a heartbeat. He pulled the girl to him and felt her lean into his strength for a moment before she pulled herself together.
“Is that the way you really feel about it?” he asked gently.
Max drew a shaky breath, .pressing herself to meet her father’s eyes. “Yeah Dad, it is. If I had known that that would have happened, I would have left…”
John never had the chance to respond as they were both distracted by a loud thump outside of the apartment. Neither was expecting it and threw each other curious glances. And then John realized what it had been. Dean must have heard… “Damn it,” he swore softly. This surely wasn’t the way he’d wanted Dean to hear that Max wasn’t interested in a relationship with him. No man wanted his feelings to be called a mistake.
Max also, must have realized what was going on. “Dean?” she asked of her father and John nodded. She sighed heavily. “You should go.”
John glanced down at her. “He’ll be okay for a minute,” John assured her. But in truth he was torn. Both his kids were hurting and there didn’t seem any way to make this better. Not now when Max had rejected the one thing that Dean had hoped for. In a way John had hoped for it too. A little bit of normalcy for his kids that wouldn’t cost them their sanity trying to hide parts of who they were from a person who couldn’t possibly understand their lives.
“Dad,” Max’s shoulders dropped and she moved away from him to lean against the counter behind her. “Things got out of control that night. It wasn’t Dean’s fault and maybe I should have stuck around. But I didn’t. I made this choice and I’ll live with it. I have been living with it, but I… Dean didn’t know and he’s your son. I’m just…”
John could see on her face and was startled that she really thought that there was still a difference between her and his ‘real kids’. With a rueful snort he moved forward to put one hand on her shoulder. “Max, you are my daughter because I love you. And nothing is gonna change that. Not now, not ever.”
“I know Dad,” Max whispered, though he could tell that a huge weight of concern was lifted from her shoulders by that, though the sentiment didn’t seem to reach to her eyes. “What I was trying to say though, is I’ll be okay. I think Dean might need you more right now. So you should go.”
John debated her words. This was one of the hardest things about being a parent. How did you choose between your own children? Well, truth of the matter was, you didn’t. But since Max had pushed him that way, John knew he had to go where he was needed. With a kiss to her forehead and an admonition to call him whenever she needed and a promise that he’d always be there for her if he could, John walked away from his daughter, wondering what the world would throw at them next.
Chapter Twenty-nine
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