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 time line. 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.
A/N- This chapter takes place over a long period of time. ***** indicates that there has been a time jump, some small, some large.
When It Changes
Chapter Twenty-nine
A Letter Home
...really worried about our eldest. Hearing what Max said has really torn him apart. We always knew he was kind of wild, but lately... Mary, I don't know what to do for him. He's drinking all the time. And the women... Every town we stop in... I tried once to talk to him, to figure out what was going on in his mind. And I think he thinks he's moving on with his life, but he's just wallowing. And there's nothing I can say to him to help. I don't know what to do. More than ever I wish you were here. Each day without you is just another drop in the ocean of my loneliness and pain.
John slowly withdrew the sheet of folded paper from his pocket. He held it in his right hand, not needing to open it. The words were etched indelibly on his soul. They always were. He had never done this in front of any of his children before and wondered what Dean would say. But when his son had turned away to plant the shovel he'd been using on this latest salt and burn into the grassy expanse beside him, John took his chance. He tossed the letter into the flames.
"What was that?" Dean demanded, his voice rough and gravelly. John started and inwardly cursed.
"Nothing," John shrugged. "Just some paper."
"Uh huh," Dean eyed him for a moment and then shrugged. If his father wanted to burn some paper, it wasn't any of his concern, except, why did he wait until now. "Was it information you didn't want found?" he asked tenaciously. There weren't many things about his father that puzzled Dean, but this did.
"Something like that," John grinned softly and Dean found himself examining his father. There was just the most minute bit of softening in the old man's face as he watched the paper intently as it began to blacken, the edges curling as it caught fire.
"Yeah, except the only time you write information down is in that book of yours," Dean persisted.
"That's not the only time," John denied. "And it's better to burn the stuff, instead of shredding it and tossing it."
"Yeah, 'cause anyone can come along and put it back together," Dean recalled. It was a reasonable thing. They already left enough fake paper trails, they didn't need a real one out there. But still, something about his father's countenance was bothering him. "So why did you wait until now? You could have burned it up at any point before."
John just shrugged. Dean grunted, used to but still occasionally annoyed by his father's stoicism. John noticed this and shrugged again. "It was just a paper Dean."
"With what on it?" his eldest demanded.
"Nothing for you to worry about," John shot back quickly. "It was private." That seemed to negate whatever open curiosity was being shown. But John knew that his son could be like a bulldog with some things, like his current behavior when they weren't on the job was showing now. And John wondered how he could answer Dean without really answering him. "Did I ever tell you about your third Christmas?" he announced and his son's face perked up immediately with interest.
"Don't think so," Dean replied cautiously. He waited, wondering if more would be forthcoming and a small sigh of relief escaped him when it seemed his father was in the mood to share. They rarely ever heard tidbits about their early life anymore. Back when they were little, and once John had gotten past the initial shock of Mary's death, he'd told Dean stories, trying to keep some part of Mary alive. But that had ended when Sam was older and had shown little interest. He couldn't equate those stories with anything, because he had no memory of his mother, like Dean did. And eventually, John had stopped trying.
"Oh, your mom was trying to think of some way to tell you about Sammy," John smiled softly, semi-lost in memories. He glanced at Dean and smirked. "You were driving us nuts, asking for a baby brother or sister all summer and then you just quit."
"Huh," Dean grunted, leaning on the shovel handle beside him. He wanted to ask how Christmas played into it, but figured if he did, John might recall himself and realize that he was opening up just a little.
"So when your mom found out she was pregnant, she told you," John grinned. "And you had no clue what she meant." Dean frowned and John chuckled. "You wanted a baby, not a pregnancy."
"Ah," Dean nodded, and grinned a little himself. Yeah, for a kid, there must have been a big difference.
"Well, once your mom got on the subject, you did too," John sighed. "But then she kind of gave up, since you didn't quite get it. But then, at Christmas time, she had this idea."
"What was that?" Dean grinned, getting into the mood of the story, despite their surroundings and activity.
"Well, it used to be a family tradition when she was a little girl, for the kids to write up their wish lists for Christmas," John explained. "But instead of mailing the letters to Santa, they'd burn them in the fireplace instead."
"That's uh," Dean's face contorted for a moment, trying not to knock something about his mother, but really... "kinda stupid."
"Oh no no," John grunted and smiled. "It's actually a ritual that has roots back in-!"
"Okay Dad, I believe ya," Dean hurried to interrupt, before his father could get off track with a lecture.
John's wide smile showed that he knew exactly what Dean was thinking. "Anyway, the point was that the words on the letters would be carried up with the smoke and scatter in the wind and the wind would carry the message to Santa."
"Cute," Dean snorted. John watched him with a smirk on his face. And it dawned on Dean what he was implicating. "Oh don't tell me I...?"
"You sure did," John guffawed. "I mean, your mom had to help you write it out. And then we had to find someone with a fireplace. But Christmas Eve, you sent that letter up the chimney."
"And how did I react when there was no baby brother under the tree?" Dean wrinkled his nose, as he pulled the shovel from the dirt, avoiding his father's gaze.
"You were pissed," John chuckled. "To say the least."
"Of course," Dean grunted, bending over to pick up some other supplies, ready to take them back to the car.
"But we had planned on that," John recalled. "After you'd gone to bed, we wrote out a letter from 'Santa'." Dean's interest piqued again, he watched his father, still staring at the wispy remnants of the letter he'd thrown in the grave. "We had to read it to you, but it calmed you down somewhat."
"What'd it say?" he asked, curious.
"Pretty much, that Santa was sorry and he wished that you'd let him know sooner about wanting a baby, because Santa had to grow them special in a cabbage patch." Dean groaned and John laughed. "And that he went out and got the baby started as soon as he got your letter. And that the baby wouldn't be ready for a while. But if you hung on to that letter, he'd let us know when the baby was ready and you could go to the special place to pick it up.
"Let me guess," Dean frowned in amusement, "the hospital?" John nodded. "And I bet I lost the letter at some point?"
"Actually you didn't," John pursed his lips. "You carried it around in your pocket everywhere. And at night, you'd tuck it in your pillow while you slept."
"I guess I was a pretty determined kid," Dean grinned and John nodded again.
"Yeah, we had a hell of a time convincing you to use Sam's name," he shook his head.
"Oh?"
"Yup," the word popped with evidence of John's bemusement. "Day finally came and when I picked you up from the baby sitter's to go pick up your Mom and Sam from the hospital, you gave the nurse the letter from Santa and then announced that since Sam was your baby, you were calling him Piddles." That surprised Dean and he burst out laughing.
"P-piddles?" he managed to sputter out. "Why didn't you tell me this sooner? Oh man, all the years I could have been..." His choked laughter ended in a sigh. "Where did I come up with that?"
"The neighbors dog," John answered wryly. "He was forever getting into our yard."
"Piddles," Dean whispered once more to himself and then glanced up at his father. "How'd you get me to stop?"
"Your mom convinced you that the real Piddles would feel hurt that you gave Sam his name," John recalled. "So you called him other things and we kept insisting his name was Sam."
"What other things?" Dean demanded, vastly amused.
"I think Piddles was bad enough," John frowned. "I'm not getting into the others. But eventually you kept saying 'Sam is for me-me'. That's what you called yourself. And that dwindled down to Sammy. And that was good enough for us."
Both men stood silent for a few minutes, until John finally straightened himself and began picking up his paraphernalia. He didn't kid himself that his distracting story had worked totally, because he could see the cogs whirling through Dean's mind as his son stared at the point where the letter had burned up and finally began to dissipate. If he puzzled it out, more power to him, if not, John wasn't going to say anything else on the subject.
"So what's out next job?" Dean finally asked as they trudged back to their vehicles.
"Found something in Ohio," John muttered, as he threw his shovel in the back end of the pick-up truck. "Athens."
*****
Dear Sam,
How about that. I'm actually writing you a letter instead of just calling. Things have been boring around here. Working five days a week, sometimes six just for the extra cash. You'd think that Seattle being a big city, there would be plenty of excitement around, but it's strangely quiet. I guess I finally am getting used to the flow of constantly being around people, instead of being on the road all the time. I had a letter from Molly recently. She said to tell you hello and she wants all the juicy details about Jess. So either you need to get a hold of her, or we'll just have to see what my fertile imagination comes up with. (Jess, if you read this, don't worry, I won't be cruel, just... inventive.) But no seriously, I know Molly would love to hear from you if you get the chance.
I also heard from Justine. It sounds like her road trip went really well. I can't believe that she was actually jealous of me over that. But now she's getting her turn to see America and all its selling points. She sent me a picture of the Grand Canyon. What am I going to do with that? Kendra and I have been talking about getting a computer. It would really help out with her translating work and I wouldn't mind being able to email you guys. And other things too I suppose. If we do decide to get one, I'll let you know, if you'll remind me what your email address is again.
I've been getting to know a bunch more people at work. Most of them are pretty nice. I won't get into the evils of the boss. I'm sure you're tired of hearing it by now. Original Cindy (I told you about her before) took me to the place where all the messengers meet to unwind. It's called The Crash, kind of a bar. It's not bad. They play all these old dirt-biking videos. Kind of a specialized America's Funniest. But that was how I found out that one of OC's friends, Sketchy, is into bikes. He loves my Ninja and begs me to take him for rides constantly. OC says that's not all he's sniffing after, but I don't let it faze me. (And no, you don't have to come up here and threaten him Sam. He's mostly just a stoned out teddy bear.)
So did you get the summer courses you wanted? Or did you decide to work again? I'll probably know the answers to those, since I'm sure we'll talk on the phone before you get this letter. Even if I mail it tomorrow on my way to work. And how is Jess doing? Is she still putting up with you? 'Cause if she is, I have to admire her stamina... and that really was not what I wanted to imply. So I'm going to quickly change the subject. Have you decided your plans for after college yet? You know, you could always move up to Seattle and become an overworked, underpaid bike messenger. It's really better than it sounds...
*****
Dear Max,
Thanks for the letter. You had me laughing so hard I ended up spraying soda out my nose. Let's just say my friends were not amused. It did make Jess laugh though. She's doing well. She says she misses you. I do too of course. But not as much, since I know how much of a little brat you can be.
No I'm not taking any classes this summer. I've just started temping in a lawyer's office. Acting as a gopher. And if you want to talk about overworked and underpaid, come on down here and try it. On second thought, don't, because I just can't see you taking orders from my boss. (He's a bit of a pompous idiot and everyone just puts up with him.) You'd probably kick his butt the first time he told you to do something you didn't feel like doing. And then you'd blame me for getting you the job and he'd blame me. And everybody else would, well, they'd probably cheer.
But seriously, we'd love to have you come visit. You'd be welcome any time...
*****
"Hey dad," Max greeted as her father picked up.
"Hey Maxie," John grinned. He knew it was his daughter calling, since her name had appeared across the view screen. "What's up?"
"Oh not much," Max shrugged, even though her father couldn't see her. "I was just wondering how you guys were doing."
"We're doing fine," John answered.
"So were are you at?" was her next question.
"Ohio," John grunted. "Got a hell of a case here. Can't quite figure it out."
"Oh?" Max asked as she settled herself on the couch. Her father began relating the important points of the case, not quite asking for a second opinion, but the feeling crackled down the phone line to her all the same. Once he finished, she searched her mind rapidly, but could discern no pattern or recall if she'd seen anything like that before. "Sorry, nothing comes to mind," she apologized.
"Yeah,' John grunted. "It's got Dean and I stymied as well."
"But you guys are still working on it right?" Max grinned.
"Actually," John drawled softly, his voice hesitant. "Dean's not here."
"Oh," Max's voice was just as soft and then grew stronger. "Is he off chasing a lead?"
John had to bite his tongue about what he really wanted to say. "No, actually, he has a date." The sudden silence over the line made his lips twitch. Somehow, despite what she'd told him, how she had acted, John had the impression that she wasn't quite as disinterested as she had been making herself out to be. He knew that it was an important tidbit to file away and examine at a later time.
"Th-that's good," she finally answered faintly. "I mean, yeah, he should go out. He uh, he can't be cooped up all the time working." John just waited while she verbally and silently worked out how she felt about that. Of course, the down side to Dean's "dating" streak that he'd been on the past few months, was that when Max heard about it, she was probably going to be convinced that any feelings that John had told her his son felt for her weren't sincere. But John was convinced that they were. Dean wasn't looking to consciously replace Max, he simply wanted to push the pain associated with her to a place that wasn't so close to the surface. And beer and other women were the only options he had right now to accomplish that.
"I suppose," John finally agreed laconically. "He's not really himself right now. I've tried to put up with this as long as I can, but much more and I'm going to kick his ass."
"Dad," she protested faintly.
"Because honestly, Cassie is too nice a girl to be used on the rebound," John pressed. There again was that shocked silence. It wasn't so easy for her now that she had a name to go along with things.
"Dad," Max whispered again, "I have to go. Kendra needs the phone." He heard the blatant lie in her voice and he hated doing that to her. But she needed to know the fallout of her decision, of her words. Because John still didn't honestly believe that after all this time, Max felt nothing for Dean. There was something there, it was just a matter of time before she admitted it and embraced it. As he said goodbye and hung up, John fervently hoped that there was something left of the Dean they knew. Not this burned out shell of a man.
*****
"Hello?" Sam asked softly. He'd just gotten home from work and was slightly worn out. There'd been a big meeting at the office and he'd been run ragged getting coffee, tracking down lost files and anything else every member of the association seemed to need from him specifically.
"Sam?" his sister's voice greeted exuberantly. "Oh my God, thank you!"
"Uh, you're welcome," Sam replied automatically, though he had no idea what she was thanking him for.
"I absolutely love them," Max continued. "I've been wearing them all day and they are just perfect!"
"Wearing what?" Sam asked, puzzled.
"The sunglasses!" she burst out. But then she seemed to realize that something was wrong. "You know, the ones you... You did send me aviation sunglasses, didn't you?"
"No," Sam frowned. "What are you talking about?"
"Oh," Max's voice sounded a little puzzled now too. "No, I got to work this morning and Normal said that someone had sent me a present."
"Oh, well it wasn't me," Sam snorted. "I would've just sent it to your apartment. And if someone gave you a present, wasn't there a note with it?"
"No, there wasn't," Max admitted. "Just my name on it. So it probably wasn't from Dad either," she grouched and Sam's lips curved into a grin.
"Uh oh," he chuckled. "I think my baby sister has a secret admirer."
"Oh no," Max groaned. "That's just... oh it's sweet, but Saaam!" she whined.
"What?" he laughed. "It's not my fault you're so beautiful. Blame your parents."
"No, it's not that," she continued to whine. "what if it's... someone I know? And work with? And... and..."
"You think they're from Sketchy?" Sam asked, recalling the co-worker Max had talked about, the one that followed her around like a puppy dog.
"Yeah," Max sighed. "'Cause I mean, I like him. But I just don't like him... that way." She paused. "But I really love these glasses!"
Sam snorted with laughter. "Then you've got yourself a dilemma on your hands."
*****
"Hey Sam, how's it hanging?" Max greeted as she answered her cell phone.
"Not bad," Sam grunted. "How're things going up there?"
"Oh the same old, same old," Max grinned. "Still working away, nose to the grindstone and all that happy crap."
"Oh, I thought you'd be home by now," Sam sighed. "Anyways, the reason that I called was-!"
"Oh hang on a sec," Max interrupted and Sam could hear the noise level on her end had risen suddenly. "Let me get away from this crowd."
"What's going on?" Sam asked, intrigued.
"Oh, just Eyes Only is on," Max answered easily.
"Eyes Only?" Sam asked. Was that some kind of program that he'd never heard of. "What's that?"
"Just a pretty annoying one minute blurb that comes on all the time," Max chuckled. "It's part of the local cable access network. It's actually called Streaming Freedom," she explained. "And Eyes Only is this mysterious guy that rants about social and political injustices around the city and sometimes the country." She glanced back at her friends and co-workers that were gathered around the television set up in the corner of the employee lounge area. "He's got quite the cult following."
"Well," Sam replied slowly, "I guess that's one way to have your opinion be heard."
"Well it's not just that," Max went on. "This guy, he's careful not to name names and all, you know libel and slander suits would be bad for business and all. But you know, if you watch the paper and the news, he's actually onto something."
"How do you mean?" Sam asked, puzzled.
"Well," Max pursed her lips. "He'll talk about some crime that's being committed and a few days after the broadcast, some prominent local businessman or politician will have been arrested for those very crimes."
"Maybe he's some sort of mole for the cops or something," Sam joked. Max shrugged.
"I doubt it," she chuckled. "Be pretty stupid of him to be warning the bad guys before they get arrested. No, I think the guy is one of those political activists who just likes the sound of his own voice."
"Probably," Sam agreed. "Anyway, the reason I called was because Jess and I were wondering if you got that time off and were... hopefully, going to come see us."
"Actually I did," Max declared happily. "Normal gave me a week off at the end of August, start of September. Including Labor Day weekend. I have to be back the Wednesday after."
"Excellent," Sam enthused. "And are you coming down?"
"Well," Max imparted, "my plans were to leave right after work on Thursday, drive down to LA to visit Justine for a while. She should be settled by then. And after that, yeah, destination Palo Alto."
"Hey, that's great," Sam laughed. "Jess'll be thrilled."
"Yeah, I'm looking forward to it myself," Max giggled. "But you know, you're going to have to really knock yourself out to keep me entertained. It is my vacation after all."
"Don't worry," Sam grunted. "We've got plans...
*****
"So what'd you get?" Jess asked, slightly breathless with anticipation. She and Sam had just said goodbye to Max a few days prior as she'd left after her relaxing and fun-filled, for Max at least, vacation. Sam and Jess had had the weekend free, but school otherwise.
"Hang on, hang on," Max mumbled as she fumbled with the gift wrap.
"It was so sweet that it was right there waiting for you when you got to work," Jess sighed. "A nice way to be welcomed back."
"Oh very sweet," Max agreed. "It's a huge box of cherry flavored jelly beans!"
"Ah," Jess cooed. "Is there a note this time?"
"Again nope," Max laughed. "But at least I don't have to be worried that someone broke something. It was supposed to rattle."
"True," Jess agreed and then her attention was diverted. "Hey Sam. Hang on Max."
Max heard Jess covering the phone and after a moment was back on. "I told Sam. You know, he's wondering if maybe it was your boss giving you these gifts."
"Normal?" Max choked out, stunned. "Ew! No!"
"Well I mean," Jess giggled, "Sam's right. He is the first one to work, he has access to the office before anyone else comes in."
"Oh my God," Max groaned. "No, it can't be Normal. He really, really doesn't like me."
"Maybe it's just a front," Jess suggested.
"No no no no no," Max chanted. "Normal'd rather chew off his own arm than be nice to the feckless bums he employs!"
"All right, all right," Jess tried to soothe as she chuckled. "It was just a suggestion."
"A very bad one."
*****
"Hey," Max grinned as she heard someone pick up the phone on the other end.
"Hey Max," Jess voice greeted her, still sleepy. "What's up?"
"I uh... I found out who my secret admirer was last night," Max told the other woman shyly. It had been a very startling thing.
Jess' eyes widened and she leaned over to nudge at Sam. He grunted, but came awake, looking at her puzzled. Jess gestured to the phone and mouthed the word Max. "So who was it?"
"His name is Leo," Max told her.
"Leo?" Jess repeated and noticed Sam's eyebrows furrowing. She put her hand over the mouthpiece and told him, "Max's secret admirer." One of his eyebrows went up and Jess smiled at the innate, big brother, overprotective instinct that he showed. "So did you discover it or did he finally work up the courage himself?" Jess asked of Max.
"He um, admitted it," Max giggled. "We were at Crash, just playing pool and he came over and asked if he could buy me a drink."
"Uh huh," Jess encouraged.
"And well," Max sighed, pushing herself out of bed. She was a little sore. She usually was after a night of heat filled sex. But she wasn't about to relate that to Jess and Sam. "He asked me if I liked those jelly beans and it kinda... all came together."
"Oh, that's so sweet," Jess grinned. "So, is there a chance that you like him back?"
"Well," Max bit her lip. Did she like Leo? He was okay. She knew him from work. And he was amazingly sweet, coming up with all those surprises for her. She supposed she could do worse, especially when she couldn't have who she really wanted. "Actually Jess," she sighed, "don't tell Sam, but Leo just left, um, about half an hour ago."
"Max!" Jess voice was slightly shocked, slightly amused. "You bad girl!" Max heard Sam's voice in the background and heard Jess murmur. "Your sister has a boyfriend. She's gotta grow up sometime Sam." And there was another pause and then her brother's voice came on the line.
"What's his name?"
Max giggled despite herself as she pulled on her robe. "Leo Thayer. We work together."
"Uh huh," Sam grunted. "Yeah. And is he one of Normal's feckless bums, or what?"
'No, he doesn't hang with the deadheads," Max denied, knowing instantly what Sam would worry about. "Don't worry, he's a nice guy."
"He better be," Sam warned, his voice forcefully light, "because if he isn't, I'll come up there and kick his ass."
"Right Sam," Max chuckled. She could hear Jess laughingly protesting in the background.
"No, I mean it," Sam growled. "You make sure and tell this kid that you have a very loving older brother who will make it his life's mission to make sure that his baby sister is treated right. You know what, just give me his number and I'll tell him myself."
"Sam!" both women protested at once and his face softened into a fond smile.
"But seriously Max," he continued. "I just want you to be happy."
"I know that Sam," Max returned, her voice just as soft.
"Anyway, I'll let you talk to Jess again. I have to get ready for class."
"Okay."
*****
"Hey Sam,"
Sam's grin fell instantly as he heard Max's voice. She didn't sound happy. Nowhere close to it. "What's wrong?" he demanded instantly and Jess' head came up from where she was working on her homework.
"Nothing really," she muttered. "Just... do you still feel like kicking ass?"
Sam instantly understood that something was off with her and Leo. "What'd he do?" Jess was shaking her head slightly and mouthing something at him. Sam held up his hand to get her to wait. He wanted to hear what Max had to say.
"He lied to me," Max told her brother with a sigh. "Nothing horrible, you know, but still..."
"What'd he lie about?" Sam wondered.
"Well," Max laughed stiffly. "I still have a secret admirer out there somewhere," she announced.
"It wasn't Leo?" Sam puzzled. He was a little disappointed to find that out. He'd talked to the kid once on the phone and he'd seemed like a decent enough guy.
"Nope," Max grimaced. "Apparently, when he asked me if I liked my gift, he was just wondering, not hinting. And when I assumed it was him, he kind of ran with it."
"So how did you find out?" Sam asked.
"There was another present today," Max told him. "When Leo got to work and saw me with it, he looked kind of panicked. So I um, got all gushy over the gift and said I couldn't believe that he'd get me the gold necklace I wanted."
"You wanted a necklace?" Sam grunted.
"No," Max denied. "You know me, I rarely wear jewelry." Sam nodded. "But he agreed and told me nothing was too good for me. And then I pulled out a bottle of cherry scented bubble bath."
"Busted, huh?" Sam shook his head. "Oh Max, I'm sorry."
"Yeah," Max sighed. "I am too. I thought Leo was a pretty nice guy."
"We all thought so," Sam agreed quietly.
"It's just," Max sniffled and Sam's face clouded over. This was what he'd kick Leo's ass for. Making his sister cry. "I thought that, I mean, it was so special that here was this guy, finding out everything he could about my likes and dislikes and surprising me with such... thoughtful... and then, he was just lying about it all. He didn't care about me, you know. He just used it as a way to..." She trailed off and Sam understood what she meant immediately. Leo had been after something else. He clenched his jaw and forced himself to count to ten.
"Max," he soothed, "he's not worth it. You are a very special woman and if he couldn't see that, then you shouldn't waste your time over him. And," he added, as another thought occurred to him, "look at it this way. There is some guy out there who does think you're special. That you're worth getting to know, since you're still getting gifts that you really enjoy. I mean, I know you love your baths."
Max gave a strained chuckle. "It was actually several bottles of different bubble baths and bath oils and some specialty soaps."
"Oh good God," Sam laughed. "I hope it's still just an admirer and not a stalker."
"Way to scare your sister," Jess protested quietly and Sam made a quick grimace.
"Sorry," he apologized. "I'm sure it's some nice, thoughtful, possibly geeky little computer nerd who's too shy to actually work up the courage to talk to this wildly amazing and outgoing person my sister seems to be."
"Thanks Sam," Max chuckled. She'd been right in her instinct to call Sam. She was hearing exactly what she needed to, to get over this shock.
*****
"Okay, so you call me when you get there," Max instructed as her roommate picked up her carry-on bag and slung it over her shoulder.
"Will do," Kendra smiled. "Are you sure you don't want to come with me?" she asked again as they began to walk to the door. Kendra's cab was ready to take her to the airport. "You'd be totally welcome. And there are a lot of cute lonely guys in my town come Christmas."
Max laughed at Kendra's obvious attempt at what she saw as operation 'getting over Leo'. Honestly, Max had gotten over the guy pretty much after she'd talked to her brother about him. Knowing that her reaction to him had been caused by her heat, she'd re-examined everything else. She'd only stayed with him because it seemed the normal thing to do, she'd thought that he'd given her gifts and everyone seemed to expect it of her. But really, aside from working at the same place, which they didn't anymore since Leo had been fired, they had nothing in common.
"I'm sure," Max assured her friend. "I'll be fine. Besides, Cindy and the gang are all going to be around. I won't be totally alone," she added as she swung open the door for her friend, who had her hands full.
"I sure hope you won't," a new voice interrupted and both females heads swung around. Max let out a startled, excited shriek and to Kendra's surprise, launched herself at the lank hottie standing on their doorstep.
"What!" Max yelped as her arms went around him. He dropped one suitcase to catch her so she didn't knock him over and laughed at her exuberance. "Oh my God! What are you doing here?"
"I missed you," he chuckled, giving her a hug. "Do I really need an excuse?"
"No of course not," Max smiled as she let him loose. "Did you come alone?"
"Yeah," Sam shook his head. "She's at her parents." He shook his head slightly at her sudden small frown. She stepped back and gestured for him to come into the apartment. "Don't worry, every thing's fine. I was going to go with her, but she knew that I would rather visit you, so she told me to come. But I am supposed to call her every single day."
Kendra, who had been watching this interaction with amusement, realized that this guy, whoever he was to Max, was definitely not boyfriend material, since obviously, he had a significant other. But at least he was here for Max, which made her friend happy. And that was all Kendra wanted to see. She cleared her throat delicately. And both eyes swung to her.
"Oh I'm so sorry," Max gasped. "Sam, this is my roommate Kendra Mabaum, Kendra, my brother, Sam Winchester."
"Oh you're Sam," Kendra grinned. "Wow! Max never told me that her brother was such a cutie."
Sam blushed just slightly. He too had heard stories about the insatiable appetites of Max's roommate. "Nice to meet you," he returned. "It's good to finally put a face to the name."
"Wait, Winchester?" Kendra puzzled. Max and Sam exchanged glances, knowing that Kendra was obviously wondering why they had different last names.
"I go by my mom's maiden name," Max explained swiftly, but Kendra waved her away.
"No it wasn't that," Kendra sighed. "While you were at work today, some guy delivered a package here, for an M. Winchester. And obviously, I didn't know... I sent it back. I'm sorry Max."
"Oh," Max frowned and turned to her brother.
Sam shook his head. "It wasn't from me," he denied. He hefted the suitcase before setting everything down. "I brought your presents with me."
"Maybe it was from Dad," Max wondered but then shook her head. "No, he knows I'm not going by that."
"Maybe it was from Bobby, or someone else," Sam shrugged. Before they could puzzle further, they heard a horn honking from a distance and Kendra gave a visible start.
"That's my cab," she chuckled. "I better get going."
"Well here," Sam took the larger suitcase from her hand and turned back to the still open door, "I'll give you a hand with that."
"Thank you," Kendra smiled. "Your girlfriend is lucky to have found such a charming gentleman."
"That's what I keep telling her," Sam smiled as they walked back down the hallway that he'd just passed through. "Unfortunately, she tends to bring out a number of surprising things in me, which well, I'm sure you uh... I'll be shutting up now."
"Which Jess doesn't mind in the least," Max giggled. "Otherwise she wouldn't play with fire."
*****
"Okay great!" Max enthused. "We'll be there. Yeah, eight o'clock." She hung up the phone and turned to her brother, where he was lounging on her couch.
"So what's up?" he asked with a grin.
"We're invited to the Christmas Eve party at Crash tomorrow night," Max announced. "If you feel like going," she added suddenly, a frown line suddenly appearing in her forehead. "I guess I should have asked first before I said we'd go, huh?"
"It's fine Max," Sam chuckled. "It'll be nice to meet your friends. Who all is going to be there?"
"Everyone from work who isn't going home for the holidays," Max shrugged. "But Cindy, Sketchy, Herbal and his girl, Skye, Marina and a bunch of others."
Sam shook his head at the names. Max certainly was living a different life in this city. And by the merriment in her eyes, he knew that it was probably the best thing that had happened to her in a long time.
*****
Dean listened as the phone rang endlessly. Eventually it picked up, and Dean listened to his brother's voice announce over a recording that no one was available to take the call and to please leave their name and number and they would get back to whoever it was as soon as possible. After the beep sounded, Dean licked at his dry lips and hurriedly spoke. "Hey Sammy and uh... Jess? It's me. Was just callin' to wish you a Merry Christmas." He paused for a moment and grabbed at the beer on the bar before him. He took a quick sip. "Hope you're doin' okay," he added and then shut off the phone.
There was noise and merriment, celebration all around him, but none of it really penetrated. The bar was amazingly full for being Christmas Eve and the bartender had assured him that it was even worse on actual Christmas Day. Dean supposed he knew that, having spent that day in rundown joints like this on numerous holidays before. A sanctuary where people went for a few hours to escape the craziness of relatives, the stress of entertaining, all that crap. It was just, always before, he'd had some member of his family with him. And now he didn't. He'd talked to his father the evening before and John had told him he'd be unavailable for the next few days. Dean grunted softly to himself before taking another pull off his beer. His father probably didn't know what month it was, let alone the day. And Dean didn't like feeling lonely. Hence the call to his brother.
There was one other person he could call. Unfortunately, he really didn't know the kind of reception he'd get. He'd been half hoping that she'd take the initiative and call him herself. But so far there had been nothing. He chugged a few mouthfuls of his beer as he contemplated what the hell it all meant. He knew that beyond certain appetites, he still didn't really know how the hell the female mind worked. Was she still mad at him? Was she going to keep up this silent treatment forever?
He realized deep down, that he was just as guilty of avoidance as she was. It wasn't like he ever called her, or checked in to see if everything was okay up her way. He'd gone from being brother, to one night stand, to... nothing. He chewed on his lower lip. And the worse thing about it, was that he'd laid down and let it happen. Or actually, let a certain someone convince him to let it happen. Of course, what his father didn't know...
Decided now, Dean took a deep breath and punched in a telephone number that he knew by heart, yet had never dialed. As he held the phone to his ear, he wondered just what in the hell he was going to say. He took another quick sip as the phone rang and nearly choked on it as someone slapped him on the shoulder. He spun around, just as he heard the answering machine pick up.
"No one's around. Leave a message." The phone beeped at him and Dean hurriedly shut the phone off. There was no way in hell he was going to do this with company.
"Richie?" he demanded, puzzled by his old acquaintances reappearance. "What the hell are you doing here?"
"Lookin' for you man," Richie grinned as he took the seat on the stool next to Dean. He gestured to the bartender and after a moment, had a beer placed before him.
"Yeah, but the question is why?" Dean grimaced as Richie waited expectantly. He pulled a crumpled bill from his pocket and tossed it towards the bartender.
"Thanks," Richie grunted as he took a pull of the beer Dean had just bought him.
"'Cause I'm doin' the honorable thing and returning this to you," Richie announced as he pulled out a small box wrapped in plain brown paper. Dean's heart sank as he recognized the box, addressed in his own handwriting. "You know, I could'a fenced that for some serious dough." Dean didn't reply and his flamboyant little friend set the box down on the bar and slid it towards Dean. "I could see why you were droppin' that kind of money though. Whatever you did must'a really pissed her off if she's still not talking to ya. Man! That sister o' yours?" Richie let out an appreciative whistle. "She's one sexy vixen! But you already knew that, huh?" He nudged Dean with his elbow, but backed off quickly as Dean leveled a glare at him that twisted his insides. Richie took a nervous sip of his beer. "I guess you should'a just sent it to the messenger place where she works, like all the others, huh?"
"Yeah, I suppose," Dean muttered.
"So I'm wonderin'," Richie drawled, "ya think she'd ever go for a guy like-!" He never got the chance to finish his question, as Dean's hand was suddenly cutting off his air supply. His hand clawed at Dean's wrist.
"Don't!" Dean growled shortly, his eyes narrowed and dangerous. And Richie wondered where the hell the fun lovin', free wheeling Dean Winchester he knew had disappeared to. But then, the kid was always protective over family. Richie held his hands up peaceably.
"Yeah, I'm just gonna go, let you figure out how to get back in her good graces," Richie nodded foolishly. "Ya need me to make another delivery, just call." And with that he snagged his beer and disappeared into the crowd.
Dean turned the box over and over in his hands. He'd been so sure that this would have produced some kind of reaction. He knew through listening in to the conversations his Dad had with Max that she'd been thrilled with the surprises he'd had Richie sneak into her place of work. It hadn't been much to bribe one of the guys that worked there. Poor man was a disabled vet who could always use a little extra cash. And best of all, none of the other workers seemed to be aware that the boss had entrusted him with a set of keys to the place. But this had been completely unexpected. The box dropped from Dean's hands, fell to the bar, the words that he hadn't written blaring up at him.
"Bar keep!" he called and as soon as the guy turned his way, Dean pulled out a wad of cash and slammed it down before him. "Whiskey! And keep 'em coming!"
No such person lives at this address.
*****
Max clambered from her bed where she had been reading, trying to catch the phone before it woke Sam up. Kendra had had no problem with Sam using her bed while she was gone, even though Sam had offered minor protests. He'd been fully prepared when he surprised his sister, to camp out on the couch or get a motel room. But the girls had been insistent before Kendra left for her vacation.
They'd been out late the night before, celebrating New Year's Eve with her friends. And even though Sam wasn't such a party animal as some students attending college, he did unwind quite a bit. So Max was pretty sure that he'd be suffering the dreaded morning after hangover. And since he was a guest in her home, Max wanted to try and not let anything aggravate him into throwing up.
"Hello?" she asked quietly, once she'd reached the phone.
"Hey, Happy Birthday Max," her father's voice greeted her.
"Hey Dad," Max grinned. "Thanks."
"I'm sorry I'm calling so early," John apologized ruefully, "but I uh, have some business that's gonna take a while."
"What would that be?" Max asked curiously, with a shake of her head. John just never quit.
"Well, it appears I need to appease a certain bar owner after your brother's behavior last night," John sighed. "Which means time lost while I repair some things."
"Huh?" Max puzzled. She heard her father sigh again and moved to put some coffee on.
"Dean was drunk last night," John told her quietly.
"Yeah, and?" Max wondered. It was the season for it right? New year and everything.
"He was almost arrested on a drunk and disorderly," John grunted. "And you know Dean knows better than that."
"I don't understand," Max replied helplessly. In all the time that Dean had been drinking legally, that she knew of anyways, he'd never gotten so drunk that he forgot himself and got into trouble, unless there was a woman involved. And even then, it usually didn't involve the police.
"I don't either," John scoffed. "He's been like this for the past week and he won't tell me what the hell is going on. He hasn't...?"
"Oh, no, I haven't heard from him," Max denied quickly, ignoring the way her heart clenched minutely for a moment in her chest. "But um, when Sam checked his messages from here, I guess Dean called and wished him a Merry Christmas."
"Really?" John sounded surprised. "Sam's there?"
"Yeah," Max smiled softly as the coffee began to percolate. "He wanted to spend some time with me and Jess insisted. Though everything is okay, she just couldn't get out of going to her family for Christmas, otherwise she would have come too."
"Well, I'm glad you kids weren't alone," John murmured. "I would have called, but I was uh, up to my ears, literally..." he trailed off with a laugh, realizing that to any one else, it would have sounded like a very lame excuse. But Max understood perfectly. "Anyways, don't worry about Dean. I'll figure something out. So, what do you and Sam have planned for today and have you opened your gift yet?"
*****
Sam was just exiting class, juggling a few books in his arms as he tried to reach into his coat for his cell phone. Another one of his professors who believed that classrooms weren't the place for communicating with the outside world. He switched the phone back on and noticed that he had two missed calls. One from Jess and one from Max. After thinking a moment while he retrieved the messages left for him, he realized why Jess had called him when she clearly knew that he wouldn't be able to answer.
"Hey Sam, it's me. Can you call me back as soon as you get this?" That from Max.
"Hey sweetie, it's me. I just talked to Max and she's had some upsetting news. Can you call her back right away? Love you." That one obviously from Jess.
Quickly finding a bench to seat himself on, Sam laid the books next to him and dialed his sister's number. She picked up right away.
"Sam?"
"Hey Max? What's wrong?" he asked quietly, conscious as always of all the people milling around the campus. Family secrecy was still ingrained into him and even if they didn't have the secrets they did, Sam figured that his business was no one else's.
"I just got a letter from Molly," Max sighed and Sam could hear the tremble in her voice.
"Is she okay?" Sam asked cautiously.
"No," Max choked out. "Oh Sam, her doctors found a mass in her upper abdomen."
"Oh man," Sam groaned. That definitely wasn't good.
"So I called and talked to her daughter," Max went on. "They're doing the biopsy today."
"Okay," Sam let out a small steady breath. While he wasn't as close to Molly Gallagher as Max had been, he still really liked the old lady who had been extremely kind to their family.
"The thing is though Sam," Max went on, the quiver in her voice belying her nerves, "Her daughter Jeannie said that even if it turns out to be malignant, they may still not be able to operate because of Molly's other health issues."
"Oh Max," his head drooped. That was not the kind of news anyone liked to hear. "I'm sorry sweetie."
"So am I," Max uttered. There was a slight pause and then she spoke again. "I have to go Sam, Dad's calling on the cell."
"Okay," Sam nodded abruptly. "Keep me posted."
"I will. Bye."
Sam hung up, put his phone in his pocket, gathered up his books and headed home to his girlfriend.
Max, mimicking one of her brother's action, snapped her cell phone open even as she hung up the land line. "Dad?"
"Hey sweetie, what's going on?" John asked and Max managed a smile at the similar endearments she'd received from father and son within moments of each other. But remembering her news to impart, her smile faded. She quickly informed her father of what she'd just told Sam. John took a few minutes to take in what she'd told him, sighing heavily. "I'll tell you what," he said finally. "We're heading that way soon. I'll stop in and check up on her. How does that sound?"
"That would be great Dad, thank you" Max felt immediately as if a weight were lifted. She knew that really, there was nothing that John could do for their friend, but to know that someone would be there to relate the truth of the matter back to Max was a relief.
"All right, I'll call you after I see Molly," John told her and they then hung up.
*****
"Hey Dad, How's it going?"
"Not bad," John grunted and Max could tell immediately that he was in the middle of something physical.
"Are you working right now?" she asked, slightly amused.
"When aren't I?" John asked wryly. "Hang on a sec." She heard him lower the phone, the receiver rasping against the stubble on his chin. "Dean, check over there!" The rasp came again. "What's up?"
"Well, I think I finally found a fairly trustworthy PI to look into finding my family," she related quickly, bracing herself for any backlash John might give.
"Uh huh," he grunted again. "How trustworthy?"
"He comes highly recommended," Max offered dryly. "At least that's what his business card says," she joked. John groaned softly.
"What's his specialty?"
"Um," Max bit her lip, knowing that John would scoff. "Missing pets and extracurricular tail."
It did get a laugh out of him, but then he sobered up again. "Are you sure you really want to do that?"
"Well, I''m not having much luck on my own," Max sighed. "All I've found out was that yes, someone matching Seth's description was in town, which I already knew. And he was apparently working for someone else before he disappeared."
"I'm sorry," John huffed, "it's just, if you've figured out that much yourself, I don't see that a PI will get much further. You know, I do know someone else that might be able to help you."
"Who's that?" Max wondered, thinking of all of John's contacts that she'd met and wondering why he hadn't offered before.
"No one you know," John declaimed. "He's just done some work for me recently. Good kid. Knows his stuff. If I asked him, he'd be totally discreet."
"Well," Max pondered it over. "You know what? Let's see if Vogelsang can come up with anything and if not, we can give your friend a call."
"All right sweetie," John conceded, fairly easily for him, which was a surprise. "No, not that one," he called and Max heard a disgruntled reply and a thump. "Sorry, I gotta go Max."
"That's fine," Max smiled. "I understand. You guys... take care of yourselves," she whispered and hung up before as she heard Dean calling his father for something.
John shook his head. This stand-off between Dean and Max had spun so far out of control he didn't know what to think about it. Days, weeks, months would go by with nothing. No overt signs of interest, care, anything. But the moment one heard the others name or voice and they were spooked. And yet, John saw the way Dean's eyes followed him any time he was on the phone with Max. And there was Max including Dean in her concerned murmurings, even if she didn't say his name. Dean looking around every time he heard a motorcycle engine roaring by. Max listening to Dean's favorite music. Pressing his lips together, John wondered again, not for the first time, if there was something more he could do to get his kids together. He chuckled under his breath as he realized how... disturbingly that would be taken by a normal person. But when had his family been normal? Not for a very long time.
*****
Jess tapped her fingers idly on the kitchen counter while she waited for Sam's sister to pick up. She checked the clock on the wall and knew that Max should have been home from work a while now. When the phone finally picked up, she realized instantly that it wasn't Max, but her roommate that Jess had only talked to one other time. "Kendra? It's Jess. Sam's girlfriend."
"Oh right, hi," the other woman's voice softened in recognition. "How are you/"
"We're doing good," Jess smiled. "Yourself?"
"Well I'm okay," Kendra sighed and Jess could hear the difference in inflection. Something must be up with Max.
"Is Max okay?" she wondered, thinking that maybe the girl was sick or something.
"Actually," Kendra grimaced, her tone dropping conspiratorially, "she's not." She continued on before Jess could ask. "She just got home a little while ago. Poor kid. She walked in on Darren screwing someone else."
"Oh no," Jess breathed out quickly and softly, her hand fluttering up to cover her mouth. "Is she-?" She cut herself off, again going to ask if Max were okay. But obviously she wouldn't be. Jess could just imagine the pain of being betrayed that way. It didn't matter that Max had only been going out with Darren for a few months. Betrayal was just that. "Do you think she'd like to talk?" she asked instead.
"I can ask," Kendra informed her. "Just a minute." Jess heard nothing but muffled sounds and after a few minutes, her boyfriend's sister, her friend, was on the line.
"Jess?"
"Hey Max," she greeted softly. "Kendra told me what happened. Feel like talking?"
"What's there to talk about?" Max sighed angrily.
"I can only imagine," Jess replied, feeling incredibly put out on her friend's behalf. "I mean, I know Sam would never, but my ex? Used to be a complete flirt. I never was sure about him."
"It's not just that," Max muttered and Jess thought she detected a sniffle in there somewhere.
"What is it sweetie?" Jess murmured encouragingly. The other woman sighed and Jess waited for her to either continue talking or put off the conversation.
"I didn't tell Kendra everything," Max finally informed her. Jess wisely waited. From the sound of it, Max was willing to impart to her, for whatever reason she felt and Jess was patient enough in a situation like this. She'd been through it herself and with other friends in similar situations. It was just best to let Max tell her. "The other woman?"
"Uh huh?"
"It was Justine."
"Wait," Jess gasped. "Your friend Justine? From LA?"
"The very same," Max confirmed.
"Oh my..."Jess trailed off. So Max hadn't just been dealing with Darren walking all over her, but her best friend as well. She didn't know what to say, so she just listened as Max poured out the story of how she'd gone to Darren's apartment after work, walking in as she normally did, to find her boyfriend and best friend together in an extremely compromising position in his living room. And through the whole story, Jess got the sense that it wasn't Darren who had upset Max, but Justine. The girls had been friends for years and it had hurt Max so badly, she couldn't stand to be around the other girl. She'd left, with Justine chasing after her, trying to explain. But Max was just not in the proper head space to listen.
After she'd talked herself out, Jess made sympathetic noises and offered the same advice that Sam had given her before, when she'd broken up with Leo. Max had chuckled mirthlessly and told Jess that after Sam, they'd broken the mold. There was probably very little chance that Max would ever find a guy half as wonderful as her big brother. Jess could hear the wistful tone in the other woman's voice and once again was thankful that she had Sam.
"Speaking of, do you want me to tell Sam?" Jess asked, quietly and seriously. "Or did you want to give it a few days?"
"I don't know," Max debated. "If you tell him what happened, he'll just get really angry, which is not a good thing. Maybe just tell him that we broke up and I don't feel like talking about it."
"Okay," Jess conceded. "Max, the reason I was calling in the first place, was because I was wondering if you wanted to spend your vacation down here again. We really enjoyed having you here last year. And I wanted you to know that you can come see us at any time. You know, if you just need a few days away. You're always welcome."
Max smiled at that. Trust Jess to know that she needed a little time to lick her wounds. Sam would have picked up on that too. "You know," she grinned, feeling a little more lighthearted already, "I get two weeks this year, but that's not until the end of August..."
"Remember, anytime," Jess chuckled. "And you could always fly down, instead of driving."
"That's, yeah, I think that would be nice," Max inhaled contentedly. "Would, um, would this weekend work?"
"It'd be perfect," Jess enthused. "Oh, I know Sam's been missing you. I have too."
"Me too," Max laughed and then they continued to plan the short trip.
"Just one other thing," Jess finally said.
"What's that?"
"I think you should reconsider letting me tell Sam," Jess decided. "The reason being, if he finds out this weekend, he'll just spend the whole time being pissed off. Why don't you let me tell him now, so that he'll get it out of his system before then."
"That actually makes sense," Max grinned. "You know Jess..." she trailed off, blushing and ducking her head, even though the other woman couldn't see her. "You know how I'm... looking for my family?
"Yeah," Jess nodded. "Sam's told me."
'Well, um," she wondered if she should say it. But Jess was so much more than just Sam's girlfriend to her. "Well, whenever I think of what... my sisters would be like... I um, I always think of you."
"Oh Max," Jess was touched, deeply. She grinned and ducked her chin down, having to quickly press her lips together, trying to stem the sudden glimmer of tears in her eyes. "You know, you're like a sister to me too."
*****
Once Jess got out of the bath that evening, she found that Sam had finally made it home. She knew he'd be later than usual, since he'd had study group that night. She wasn't looking forward to telling him about Max and Darren. And for good reason. Once she'd gotten through all the rough details, sitting beside him on their couch, she was completely stunned when he jumped up from his seat and began pacing around the room as he plotted out loud, the most painful tortures he could come up with to do to the bastard that had done this to Max. He stopped once he saw the shock on her face and mumbled an apology. Jess accepted it and Sam pointed out that normally he wouldn't have been so mad. But nobody, nobody hurt his baby sister that way and got away with it. And upon reflection, Jess decided that she was right there with him. But at least it did accomplish what she wanted and that was to get the anger out of the way so that it wouldn't mar Max's visit, which Sam was extremely happy to hear about.
*****
"Hey Max," John greeted when his daughter finally picked up her cell phone. He'd tried it and the apartment several times that day. No one had answered at home and he'd been getting the message from the cell service provider that Max was unavailable. He hadn't panicked, but he had wondered. "You're finally answering, huh?"
"Oh, sorry Dad," Max huffed. "I just got off my flight to LA."
'What are you doing in LA?" John demanded. He could see from the corner of his eye, Dean's interest perk up.
"I'm visiting Sam and Jess this weekend," she informed him promptly.
"I thought you were going out at the end of the month," John puzzled.
"I still am," Max declared. "I just... needed to get away for a few days."
"What happened?" John growled, on edge from something in the tone of her voice. His daughter sighed and he could see that Dean was sitting up straighter now. There was barely any pretense in his son now that he was really watching the television.
Max bit her lip as she headed over to the luggage carousel where she was supposed to meet Jess and Sam, the three of them having decided to bum around LA for the weekend and mini-vacation their stresses away. She couldn't really tell her father that she wanted to get away from Seattle for a few days because a guy she had ripped off had found out the truth about her heritage as a Manticore alumni and as a result, she'd almost been grabbed up by her arch nemesis Lydecker and she felt that it was too hot to stay in the city at this point. Especially since Vogelsang had told her that his office had been bugged. So she went with the other story.
"I found Darren," she almost spat the name, before she pulled back. No need to lay it on too thick. "Cheating on me."
"What?" John roared, startled by what he'd just heard. Even though Dean was trying to pretend that disinterest, even his head snapped around to look at his father. "You actually...?"
"Walked in on him... and Justine," Max confirmed, a slight tinge of bitterness coming to the forefront. Justine had finally convinced Max to listen to her side of the story, of how she'd met Darren online and when she'd decided to surprise Max, she met him first at a little coffeehouse, never knowing that he was Max's boyfriend. But still, even understanding that didn't make the pain go away.
"Justine?" John repeated, ignoring his son's questioning glance. "Protsma?"
"Yeah," Max grunted and then proceeded to tell her father, while leaving out the more explicit details, how it had come about.
"Well, I hope you informed the little bastard that I will kill him," John sneered.
"You know what Dad," Max chuckled weakly, noticing finally Sam's tall figure making it's way through the slight crowd. "He's just not worth it. He actually came running back to me, trying to make it out to be my fault because I didn't share enough with him."
"Share what?" John snorted. "Your past?"
"Exactly," Max confirmed. "Hang on, Sam and Jess just arrived." She lowered the phone to greet her brother and his girlfriend. As he listened to her lighthearted tone, John realized that Max wasn't nearly as devastated by this as he might have thought she would be. He wondered how Dean would feel about it. Even if the boy wasn't still crazy in love with her, they'd be planning a little trip to Seattle, with or without Max's approval, because seriously, you just didn't mess with their family. "Anyways Dad," Max continued making her point. "What I found out from Justine was that Darren met her online and got involved with her only four days after he and I started going out. So I really think we all know who is to blame."
"You keep telling yourself that," John nodded. "Because sweetheart, you did absolutely nothing wrong."
"I know Dad." And for one brief moment, she sounded like his little girl again. John smiled fondly.
"Oh, reminds me why I called," he gasped. "Dean and I just got back from visiting Molly at the hospital."
"Oh you did," Max grew excited. "How is she?"
"Doing good," John grinned. "The surgery went well and her doctors are confidant that they got everything. One day after her surgery and she's already back to her feisty old self."
"Oh I'm so glad," Max whispered. "I wish I could have been there."
"I know," John sighed. "And she missed you too. But, she has a little time, oh for a few hours, if you want to call and talk to her. She's looking forward to hearing from you."
"I'll call as soon as we're on the road," Max promised. "Sam can talk to her too, if they want."
"That'd be fine," John agreed. "I'll let you go now."
"Okay, bye Dad," Max chuckled.
John gave his own farewell and hung up the phone. He turned to his son, reached over the back of the sofa and grabbed the remote. Dean just watched him warily.
"What's up?" he asked.
John clicked off the television and tossed the remote back to his son. "Feel like going to Seattle for a few days?"
*****
"...no, he's a reporter," Max informed Sam as she set about making herself some dinner. Kendra was out on a 'date' with one of her myriad boy toys.
"But I thought you had the private investigator looking into things," Sam puzzled.
"Sam," Max sighed, "I gave Vogelsang information four months ago. All he was able to find out was that it was a dead end. This guy just can't do a thing for me, unfortunately."
"But a reporter?" Sam muttered again. "Why is he going out of his way to offer you his help?"
"Because I'd be working for him on the side," Max explained. "Kind of a quid pro quo deal."
"I don't like the sound of that," Sam frowned as he paced around the apartment.
"It's no big dealio Sam," Max chuckled. "The only reason I'd be helping, aside from getting information, is because the guy can't exactly do everything for himself."
"What does that mean?"
"He's paralyzed," Max told him quickly. "From the waist down. He was shot in the back, a few months ago."
"So he's not exactly in a safe line of work," Sam pointed out just as quickly.
"He was car-jacked Sam," Max told him with an absolutely straight face, her tone even and steady to convince him that no harm would befall her.
"Oh," was her brother's short reply. "Well what's his name?"
"Logan," she muttered. "Logan Cale."
Chapter Thirty
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