Author: Restive Nature
Genre: Crossover
Type: WiP
Shows: Dark Angel and Supernatural
Disclaimer: Neither show represented in this fiction belongs to me. Dark Angel is the product of Cameron/Eglee and Fox, whereas Supernatural is the product of Kripke and The CW. No profits are made from this fiction and it is intended for private enjoyment only.
Story Rating: PG-13 up to NC-17 for language, violence and sexual situations. (All higher rated material will be contained in its own chapter and clearly marked at the beginning of the chapter. PG versions of these chapters will also be available.)
Chapter Rating: PG-13 for language.
Timeline/ Spoilers: This story takes place predominantly in the Supernatural timeline. This means that the Dark Angel structure of post-pulse America does not fit in. The massive changes will be that Manticore is decades ahead of itself and the characters from DA are born much earlier than portrayed on the show. There is no Pulse occurring. Any other changes to the structures or episodes of the shows will be (hopefully) explained within the story itself.
Pairing: None at this time. (The pairing will become evident as the story progresses, but much further down the road.)
Summary: Change can be a choice and you never know where the road you choose to take will lead you.
A/N- Just to let you know, the town mentioned here, does exist. Since I’m familiar with it and some of the surrounding countryside, I decided to use it as is. However, all the characters that are in this town are purely my own, not representing anyone who actually resides in the town or surrounding area.
When It Changes
Chapter Eight
Fading Into Normalcy
“So what do you think Jim?” John asked in a heavy voice. Pastor Jim, one of his oldest and dearest friends, sat on the other side of the desk. He was leaning back in his chair, thoughtful. He’d listened to John’s story without interruption. And he agreed with John, Max couldn’t stay with the Winchesters. It was hard enough for John, going after the demon that killed his wife with the two boys in tow. But to add another child to the mix, even one as adaptable as Max had proven to be, was just unthinkable.
“Oh, I can certainly find her a family to live with,” Jim sighed. That was what John had been after. But Jim also saw signs that it wasn’t really what John, or the boys wanted. After meeting Max, the first day they’d arrived, Jim had seen the camaraderie between the children and the special affinity John held for the little girl. “But is that what she wants?”
It was John’s turn to sigh. “I don’t think so,” he admitted slowly, staring vacantly at a point on the wall just over Jim’s shoulder.
“Well, what does she want?”
“She wants to find her family,” John told him, stressing the word her. Jim nodded. That was very understandable. “But she won’t tell me anything about them, other than vague things the kids used to do when there were no adults around.”
“Like what things?” Jim asked in mild concern. John waved one hand, apparently picking up on Jin’s apprehension immediately.
“Just pranks they pulled, stories they told each other,” he explained. “The usual kid stuff.” But even as he said it, he knew that there was nothing usual and typical in the specific information he’d garnered.
“So what’s her plan?” Jim asked after a moment. John shrugged.
“I think she’s just going to roam around until she finds one of them to hook up with,” he frowned. That idea didn’t sit well with him, just like any other decent man. It certainly didn’t with Jim.
“Does she realize just what kind of people are out there?” Jim demanded in shocked tones. “What predators are so eager for the chance to take advantage of a young kid like that? Not to mention anything in your line of work, since she knows about it now.”
John ducked his head. He really, really hadn’t meant for Max to discover the supernatural. Although in some ways he felt better that she knew. She wouldn’t be able to casually dismiss things the way other humans did and so become susceptible to the otherworldly forces that disrupted life on earth.
“She knows,” John said heavily, his voice deep and regretful. “She keeps trying to tell me that she can take care of herself.”
“Physically, she may be able to defend herself,” Jim conceded. “We’ve certainly seen proof of that.” Both men smiled as they recalled a moment earlier in the day where Max had whooped another child’s butt, when the older girl just wouldn’t leave her alone. John had been astounded at her skills. Heck, for that matter, everyone had been impressed. Max on the other hand just shrugged off the praise and tried to make herself scarce. “But what will a ten year old child do to survive?”
“I know,” John nodded. “It’s either call the authorities, or find someone ourselves to take her in.” Jim nodded.
It didn’t work out that way, of course. As soon as John and Jim had decided to go ahead and locate a family willing to take Max in, and then inform her, Max had disappeared. Sam and Dean had been frantic when they couldn’t find her. John cursed himself up and down as only a marine could, for not expecting this. They’d left Jim’s earlier than planned to try to find her. They could only hope like hell that they caught up to her before someone or something else did.
And on the entire ride John was treated to two distinct diatribes from his sons about keeping Max with them and making her a Winchester.
She was loyal, she was brave, and she’d fought those creatures and protected Sammy. They needed her, she trusted them, and she couldn’t be on her own. And the more the boys repeated this, the more John began to believe it too. So when they finally found her, by simple chance, sitting on a bench in front of a small town barbershop, John was ready to open up the family door and let her walk in. If she wanted it.
He remembered Dean’s shout when the teen had spotted her. He’d braked hard and looked to where his son was pointing. He pulled over and the boys were scrambling out of the car before he’d even turned it off. They’d both run across the street, heedless of the cars and other people around them, calling her name.
Max had looked up from her miserable little huddle, her head rising from her drawn up knees. When she had realized who it was calling for her, she’d thrown herself into Dean’s arms. John had followed behind them quickly. And joined in their care and concern. Max had sobbed out to them that she thought she had found her big brother Zack. But it wasn’t him. It was never him. That was all John needed to hear. He’d scooped her up and carried her back to the car as Dean and Sam eagerly followed behind. He didn’t speak as he drove away from that barbershop bench. He didn’t speak to the kids as he stopped to make a phone call from a pay phone. He didn’t speak until he had the information he needed and told them where their next stop was.
They drove most of the night, the kids dropping off slowly. John pulled off the road finally when he could drive no more. He’d woken Dean and got a few hours of shuteye while his eldest drove on. When they reached the destination that John’s informant had provided, finally he spoke. He’d told Max that they were at the place of someone that could forge papers for Max. All she had to do was tell him the name that she wanted on the papers. His suggestion was Maxine Winchester. Her eyes had shone brightly when he made that announcement. There was no containing the excitement.
She had agreed and that was how they came to be moving into a partially furnished three bedroom house in Geraldine, Montana. He was starting work there in a garage the next day. And in less than a week’s time, the kids would be starting school. John had been of two minds when it came to settling down. But it was Dean’s last year of school and he felt he owed it to Mary’s memory to at least try and garner some normal memories for the kids. And normal meant school, parties, graduation. And Sam and Max would benefit as well.
“So who gets what room?” Sam asked as he carried his sleeping bag and duffel into the living room. John had surveyed the house by himself while the kids waited at the motel. After living so long in tiny apartments and motels, they weren’t overly particular. All John really cared about was the house being defensible, having enough room for them all and that all the necessities worked.
Dean followed after Max, who was also lugging in her bag and sleeping bag. They entered the front door and were immediately in a long rectangular living room, with only an exit to their left, which led to the hallway and kitchen. A few steps brought them into the small dimly lit kitchen. John led them through the hallway. Directly ahead of them was the bathroom. There were stairs to the left, behind the kitchen wall. Between the stairs that must have turned to make it all the way upstairs and the bathroom, was a door.
“Boys, you take the biggest room upstairs, since you’re sharing,” he instructed. He then pointed back to the first room on the kid’s right. “I’ll take this one. Max, you can have the other room upstairs.” He jerked his thumb over his shoulder at the staircase. As one, the family nodded and separated to put their belongings in their designated rooms.
As John took his bag into his room, he took a mental inventory of what the house came with and what he’d still need to get. The kitchen came with a table and four rickety old kitchen chairs from sometime in the sixties. There was a dilapidated sofa in the living room. There was an abandoned washer and dryer that sort of worked in the basement, left behind courtesy of the last tenant’s. John figured that they could use the camp kit in the kitchen. Two small frying pans, two stew pots and two coffee pots, made up their cookware. And each person was allotted a camp cup, plate/bowl and a set of utensils. True, they’d have to wash dishes after every meal or snack, but they could survive that.
Next on his mind were hangers. There were no dressers, so everything would have to be hung up, put on a shelf, or left in the duffel bags until they figured that situation out. And maybe they could find a small desk for the kids to take turn using when they needed to do their homework. Although John wasn’t sure if it would be used. Sam generally tended to stray to the table with his books and Dean just flopped down wherever he felt comfortable. Perhaps Max would like a desk. Which brought up another thought. The kids needed school supplies. And some school clothes. Gym shoes were needed and backpacks. John rubbed at his forehead as a mild headache threatened to settle in. Maybe he could get an advancement on his paycheck.
The next morning, he woke to the smell of eggs cooking in the kitchen. He scrunched up his nose and shimmied out of his sleeping bag. After their quick and easy unpacking, he and the boys had gone through the house, setting up every protective device they could think of. Max had trailed along behind them, absorbing it all. John had sent them to bed, promising that he’d leave them money to go out for breakfast. He wasn’t sure where at that point, but figured they’d find something. So when he stumbled into the kitchen to see the three children preparing a breakfast of pancakes and eggs, he was, needless to say, stunned.
“What on earth?” he managed to get out. Dean glanced up from the pan where he was stirring the scrambled eggs. Max was beside him, anxiously checking on a pancake. Sam was setting the table.
“Hey Dad,” Dean smiled. Sam called out his greetings as well, but Max was more worried about her pancake flipping skills.
“Should I flip it?” she asked Dean worriedly. He glanced at the underside of the pancake that she was holding up the edge of.
“Is it brown?” he asked, full of unexpected good humor. She nodded. “Then flip it!”
Dean watched as Max carefully flipped the pancake as best she could with a fork, and then turned to his father. “The Hutterite’s were in town, dropping off their eggs at the store,” he explained. John nodded, perking up some as he smelled coffee. He ambled over to the stove and Dean, already prepared, handed his father a cup of the steaming brew. “Max woke up early and convinced us to take a walk with her.”
“Why didn’t you wake me up?” John demanded.
“We wanted to let you sleep,” Sam answered simply. John sighed. He knew that he was going to have to lengthen the leash at some point. “Don’t worry dad,” Sam continued with a wry smile. “Dean was armed.”
“Good boy,” John grunted and took his coffee to the table. The kitchen was crowded with all four of them in there and even more so at the stove. He watched as Max poured another batch of pancake mix into the pan and carefully set the two she’d retrieved onto a plate warming in the oven. “So how’d you get the pancake mix?”
“Maxie here sweet talked the store manager into letting us set up a charge account at the grocery store,” Dean smiled. “Hundred dollar limit, payable at the end of each month or whenever we feel like it.”
“Okay,” John agreed. He could handle having a credit account at the store.
“Actually,” Max leaned back to look at him, “Mrs. Gallagher said that if we prepay them a hundred dollars, they give you a bonus ten dollars.”
“That’s an idea,” John mused. It was certainly an incentive to buy locally, but in small towns, the general store and gas stations were higher priced than in the bigger towns.
“Their prices on basic items, bread, milk eggs, stuff like that was good,” Max continued. “But the other stuff is a little expensive.”
“So we thought that we’d keep the account for basic stuff and emergencies,” Dean finished for her. John smiled. The kids were certainly of a like mind today. It was almost scary. But he certainly appreciated it this day when he was served another cup of coffee and a good fresh meal to start the day.
The days passed comfortably as John got used to his full time job that turned out to be mainly repairing tires. The kids roamed the streets, learning the town, although there wasn’t much to see or do. Dean had taken the initiative and started the paperwork for school. The principal understood that John, as a single father, had to work and arranged to be in his office during the lunch hour so that John could come in and sign the final papers to get the kids enrolled in the school. No one batted an eye at Max’s forged paperwork.
The last Sunday of August came and John had arranged with the kids to go school supply shopping in the city. They spent an arduous day roaming the city, filling in the list of what they needed. And the next day was their last day of freedom. Tuesday, school began.
Dean and Sam were settled quickly into their twelfth and eighth grades. The secretary took pity on Max and walked her to the fifth grade room. There she was introduced to her teacher, Mrs. Kirkegaard. She was a formidable woman, who towered over her students, with a graying head of hair, swept back into a tight bun at the back of her head. Her eyes were a clear blue that snapped with seeming irritation. She greeted Max quietly, took the papers from the secretary, who bid Max goodbye sweetly, and directed Max to the only available seat at the back of the room.
Max, as she took her seat, was unsure of what to expect. She had only the training rooms of Manticore and her brief sojourn into Lucy’s school to go by. They were worlds opposite. In short order, the teacher took attendance and Max busied herself with identifying each child in her class as that child’s name was called. She was startled at the end of the list when “Winchester, Maxine!” was called. The old woman knew she was there. Why did she have to ask again? Max wondered if maybe the old woman was senile. But she raised her hand like she’d seen the other children do.
Mrs. Kirkegaard began the school day by outlining their lessons for each day. Composition, reading and writing, followed by mathematics in the morning. Lunchtime followed by social studies and sciences in the afternoon. Four times a week, they would cut their science short for music class or physical education. On Fridays, they would attend the library during their social studies hour, in which they would have computer classes and then if they behaved, would have the privilege of signing out a book or two from the library.
Max learned that the teacher’s expectations were high. Her classes traditionally scored well on tests, led the rest of the elementary in fundraising efforts and were the best readers around. Max had no problem at all with that. But when the teacher handed out the first of their class worksheets, found that while the teacher espoused her own efficiency, she didn’t seem to appreciate it in her students. At least not to the extent that Max showed.
It took only ten minutes for Max to complete her assignment. Mrs. Kirkegaard, who was walking up and down the aisles to correct students gone wrong, stopped beside Max. “Maxine, please do not sit idly,” she chided on an even voice. “Finish your work.”
Max twisted around in her seat to look up at the older woman. “I’m already done ma'am,” she answered as politely as she could. “And my name is Max.”
The teacher leaned over, bracing one hand against the back of Max’s chair. “Thank you for telling me that Maxine,” she announced primly, her lips thinned at slightly whitish. “However I do not hold with nicknames, abbreviations or any other such shortcuts.” She straightened up again and took Max’s paper from her. She scanned it over quickly, her thin lips parting slightly in surprise. “Did you excel in composition at your last school?” she asked tightly. Max shrugged. She hadn’t had much chance to do a lot of writing at the last school, although she did a lot of writing at Manticore. But she didn’t think that writing mission reports counted.
“Please don’t shrug Maxine,” Mrs. Kirkegaard reprimanded. “When someone asks you a question, the proper thing to do is answer verbally.”
“I don’t know ma’am,” Max answered promptly. “I wasn’t there for very long.”
“I see,” Mrs. Kirkegaard’s lips thinned once again. She set the paper back down in front of Max. She continued on her way and Max amused herself with running through the list of children’s name alphabetically by last name, and matching the child with the name.
Soon the lessons turned to mathematics and again, Max was ahead of the class. She snorted quietly as she took the paper and looked it over. Simple mathematics of multiplication and division. It took her less time to complete this than it did the writing. But the teacher was sitting at her desk, staring at Max who had finished and folded her hands on top of the desk.
Mrs. Kirkegaard finally gave them leave to attend the lunchroom to eat. Max followed after the rest of the children. Seeing the posted lunch schedules on the wall of the cafeteria area, Max realized that Sam and Dean wouldn’t be out until later to eat. Since John had decided that it was just as cheap for them to eat the cafeteria meals, as it was to bring their own lunches, Max followed after the kids joining up the lunch line. This at least she was used to. She gave her name and grade to the lunch lady at the beginning of the line, noting that the woman greeted most children by name. The woman had looked her over, given her a wide smile and marked down Max’s first meal in the school. After she’d been given what defined the nutritious meal, Max looked around for a place to sit.
Her heart ached a little. Here and there were her classmates sitting together. It reminded her sharply of her unit back at Manticore. They’d done everything together. Eat, sleep, bathe, and train. There were no secrets from one another and Max wished sharply that even one of them were here with her now. But the feeling was soon shoved to the back of her mind when one of her classmates, Justine Potsma waved her over.
“Sit with me Maxine!” she called. Max grinned and carried her tray to the fold down table. She slid into the end seat across from Justine, balancing her tray until it was settled properly on the table.
“You can call me Max,” she offered shyly, wondering if she’d be reprimanded again.
“Okay Max,” Justine smiled. The two eyed each other nervously and began eating their meal. After a few moments, Justine began asking questions about where Max was from. And Max very well couldn’t answer honestly, so she gave the answers that the Winchester’s had cooked up for her. She was from a small town in Kansas. Her mother died this past February. Yes she liked writing and math. She wasn’t sure what she thought of their teacher. And her favorite thing to do in the world was read.
In turn she learned that Justine had lived in Geraldine all her life. Her parents had a farm outside of town. She had four older siblings and another one younger than her. Her grandmother took care of the younger children after school sometimes. And her favorite thing in the world was listening to music. Although the children were opposites in some ways, it didn’t matter to them and they found common ground to talk about.
That all changed once they reached the playground. In the first recess, Max had watched the other kids playing, unsure where to go and what to do. For most of the time, she’d sat on the swings while she tried to order things in her mind. But this time, recess seemed like such a better prospect now that she had someone to hang out with. But as Justine and Max were trying to decide what they both wanted to do, they were approached by some of the other girls in their class.
Max looked at them one by one. Courtney Kimble had led the trio over and Max could see that she was the undisputed leader of the three girls. Following behind her were Leanne Becker and Misty Patterson. Max almost snorted as she took them in. The girls were copies of each other. They wore everything similarly, from their clothes, to blonde hairstyles, shoes to painted fingernails. But most especially were the supercilious sneers on their faces.
“What are you doing Justine?” Courtney trilled in a falsely pleasant tone of voice.
“Max and I were figuring out what we wanted to do,” Justine answered honestly. Max noticed that she seemed extremely pleased to be noticed by Courtney.
“Oh,” was Courtney’s curt reply. “Wait” she said slowly as she pondered Max’s face. “You moved into that dingy little house on Main Street, didn’t you?” Before Max could answer, she continued. “My daddy owns that house and decided to rent it out again this year.” Max simply nodded once. John had never said who he was renting the house from. Courtney smiled and Max felt like creeping back. The girl looked like she was going to snarl and Max certainly didn’t like the feeling that Courtney was closing in on the kill. “It’s just filled with cockroaches, you know.”
“I haven’t seen any,” Max stated quietly, trying to figure out what Courtney was really trying to say. The mystery was solved for her when Leanne muttered under her breath.
“Just look in the mirror then,” the girl whispered. Max wasn’t sure, but she thought that she was meant to overhear that. Leanne and Misty giggled together and Courtney smiled at them. Justine looked uncomfortable.
“So what does your dad do?” Courtney continued, planting one hand on her hip. The other, she held up to inspect.
“He works at the garage on the highway,” Max answered. She really didn’t like this girl or her little cronies. Courtney nodded in a bored manner.
“And what about your mom?” But before Max could answer, Courtney was talking again. “My mother is a doctor. She commutes between here and Fort Benton. But she volunteers every other week in the clinic. She says it’s so important to give back to your community.”
Max didn’t have an answer for that. And she was starting to lose patience with the girl and her now obvious game of one-ups-manship. But Justine surprisingly tried to come to her defense. “Max’s mom died this year.”
“Oh that’s too bad,” Courtney crooned, fake sympathy written all over her face. Max kept her face calm and knew that what Courtney wanted most was a reaction from her. She refused to give it. There was a staring contest between the two girls while Justine, Leanne and Misty twittered nervously around them. Finally defeated, Courtney turned away as imperiously as a ten year old could manage and spoke to Justine.
“Justine, you have to come with us,” she demanded. “Mrs. Kirkegaard told me that tomorrow we’re going to start choosing our candidates for grade 5 representative. We need to talk about it.” She turned back to Max. “Sorry,” she said in falsely apologetic tones, “but you wouldn’t know anybody that we’re going to discuss.”
Justine looked back and forth between the two girls, her mind divided. Max realized that she wanted to stick up for Max and stay with her, but the lure of being invited by the popular girls was strong. Max smiled a little and nodded. “Go ahead,” she offered magnanimously. “I’ll talk to you later.” Justine gave her a grateful smile and walked off with Justine and her entourage.
Max retired once more to the swing set and watched with a faintly jealous heart as Justine spent the rest of the lunch recess with the other girls. As soon as the whistle called them in from the playground, Max lined up at the head of the class to go inside. She found that the afternoon went much like the mornings. She knew all the work and finished it so quickly that she was absolutely bored. It was a sweet relief when the final bell rang and class was dismissed.
Max gathered her belongings together and rushed to meet Sam and Dean at the junior high/ high school entrance. The boys, having a shorter distance to walk, were waiting for her. She was happy to see them and all three headed out. They only had two blocks to walk to reach their house and after finding out that none of them had homework, decided to make a brief visit to their father at the garage.
He was pleased to see them and happy to hear them talk about their first day. He knew that Mary would have been pleased to see her boys so easy going, fitting in and enjoying something normal in their lives, even if it was as mundane as schoolwork. He also noticed that Max was fairly quiet. All he garnered out of her was that she did well with the work and did it quickly. She’d met their landlord’s daughter, who had warned her about cockroaches and a girl named Justine played with her.
The kids sat around at the garage until it was time for their father to punch out. All four walked back to the house and John made the decision to take the kids out for supper. He wanted to wash up first and after doing so, told them to choose a place to eat. They had little choice. There was the restaurant/bar a few buildings down, or the bar/restaurant one block further. They eventually decided on the restaurant, since it was closed off from the bar adjoining it. Where as the bar had booth seats in the main room. But seeing how this was small town life, no one would object to the kids being in the bar, as long as their father was with them.
They continued their family discussion. Both Sam and Dean had been asked to try out for the football teams. Dean on varsity and Sam on junior varsity. Both were inclined to refuse. Sam because it just wasn’t his thing and Dean because he knew there would be times when he couldn’t make practice because of their hunts, or caring for Sam and Max. John was of two minds of that. Sam he could understand, but knowing what a small team the high school had, figured that Dean would be needed. But he decided to leave it up to the boy to decide. Talk continued to swirl around after they’d ordered and even as their food was brought. Max ate mostly in silence, but it wasn’t noticed since the others were full of what their days had been like.
Days and events continued to march on. The family started to get into the swing of small town life. They attended homecoming, riding in the floats they’d helped their classes build in the parade, while John watched them with pride. They voted for class representatives, even though they had only the vaguest sense of the people they were voting for. They went to the library on Saturday mornings and in general settled in.
Max was finding that where Courtney Kimble led, others followed. After taking Justine away that first day, she’d shown Max that she was the outsider. True, some kids would occasionally buck the system and ask Max to play with them at recess. But usually, unless they were playing on the playground equipment, Max didn’t understand their games. Who wanted to pretend to be horses? Who really wanted to talk about making Christmas ornaments to sell during lunch hour? And when Max made suggestions of things to do, like her favorite game, escape and evade, they looked at her as if she were a space alien.
Though Max was finding school to be unpleasant, she knew she was required by law to attend so she made no protest or outcry each day. Soon September passed into October and the kids in her class began getting excited over something called Halloween. Max, not wanting to showcase her ignorance and invite the ridicule of her classmates, looked it up in the library. And what she learned startled her enough to ask John about it at home.
Sam and Dean were shocked to learn that she’d never been trick or treating, had never dressed up in a costume. John explained to the girl that the holiday had evolved into a mass push by the candy industry. Yes, there were supernatural happenings on that day, just like any other. But most people didn’t notice a thing. John also informed them that he’d gotten some information about a haunting in the area. They would be going to take care of it the weekend before Halloween, so that no mischief of the evil kind would take place on the All Hallowed Eve.
So with only five days to get through before they went on their fist family hunt since settling In Geraldine, Max was in a pretty good mood when she ran down to the general store to pick up some bread. She’d developed a good relationship with the store owner, Mrs. Gallagher. The older woman’s children were all grown and she was a widow. She was impressed by all three of the Winchester children, who always treated her politely and with respect. But she seemed to have a soft spot for the youngest.
Upon arriving in the store, with its tinkling bell to announce arrivals and departures, Max noticed the cart that Mrs. Gallagher used to restock her shelves. She heard a grunt of pain and moved around the corner and saw Mrs. Gallagher clutching her elbow, grimacing in pain.
“Are you okay?” she asked swiftly, moving forward in concern.
Mrs. Gallagher straightened up and looked in surprise at Max. “Oh, I’m all right dear,” she smiled, still rubbing at her elbow. “I just pinched a nerve in my shoulder and I can’t reach my arm up over waist height.”
“Oh, I’m sorry,” Max sympathized. She could only imagine how a pinched nerve felt. Probably worse than a nerve deadened from blood loss, like when your foot fell asleep.
“It does make re-stocking hard though,” the older woman admitted.
“Can you do anything for it?” Max asked solicitously.
“Oh, I have an appointment with my massage therapist,” Mrs. Gallagher admitted. “She’s worked on it this last week. Eventually the swelling will go down and I’ll be okay. It acts up every few years.”
“Can I help you restock?” Max asked, realizing how hard it would be for the woman to accomplish that.
“Oh sweetie,” Mrs. Gallagher was slightly taken aback at the innocent offer. She was still impressed by how thoughtful these Winchester children were. It was a rarity among most children these days. “I would love the help.” She paused thoughtfully for a moment. “I’ll tell you what. I can pay you five dollars an hour.”
Max’s eyebrows shot up. She hadn’t been asking for a job. She just wanted to help the sweet old lady that had helped her. “You don’t have to pay me,” she protested quietly. Mrs. Gallagher wrapped her good arm around Max’s shoulders.
“Oh yes I do,” she stated firmly. “I am always a fair-minded woman. If you work for me, then I pay you!” Max giggled a little. Then her face fell.
“I’m supposed to get my dad a loaf of bread,” she informed the store owner. Mrs. Gallagher nodded.
“Well, you go ahead and get it and then you can ask your father if it’s okay for you to work here,” he woman decided. Max nodded happily and ran to get the bread John had wanted. Mrs. Gallagher added it to their tab as Max waved goodbye. The girl ran home and burst in the front door and right into the kitchen, past the startled boys. John just turned an inquisitive eye on her for her strange behavior. Max held the loaf out to him and he took it, set it on the counter and then turned back to her.
“What is it?” he asked with a hint of amusement in his voice. He could see that she was bursting to tell him something.
“Um,” Max bit her lip. “Mrs. Gallagher hurt her shoulder and can’t restock her shelves. She asked me to ask you if I could work at the store to help her. She said she’d pay me five dollars an hour.”
John was impressed how she got all that out in one breath. “How long would she need your help?”
“A few weeks,” Max shrugged. “Until her shoulder is better.”
John considered it a moment. He’d met Mrs. Gallagher on a few occasions and liked the older woman. She always complimented him on the fine job he was doing raising his kids. A father couldn’t help liking a person like that. But he also knew that she employed two other people in the store. He realized that this was more for Max’s sake than for Mrs. Gallagher’s. “Okay,” he said slowly. “Since you always have your schoolwork done, you may work there after school, nothing past five-thirty, since I want you home for supper. Understood?”
Max nodded happily. “Yes sir!”
“You’re letting her get a job?” Dean demanded in surprise from the kitchen doorway. John smiled at his eldest son.
“Yes Dean,” he answered with a sarcastic tinge. “I’m letting her take a temporary job, helping out an elderly woman who has no one else to turn to.” Dean looked a little chagrined. John realized that it wasn’t really jealousy that prompted Dean’s reaction. He looked at both his boys. “If you boys found a situation like that, I wouldn’t mind you making some extra money. But you should all know that schoolwork and hunting have to come first.” He included Max in that look. She nodded in understanding. John made a shooing motion and happy again, she raced back to the store to tell Mrs. Gallagher that she could indeed work for her, under certain conditions. It proved to be a good afternoon.
It went slightly sour for Max the next afternoon when Courtney Kimble made her excursion to the store for her daily dose of candy. Upon learning that Max was now working there for an hour a day after school, she had a whole new load of ammunition against the outsider. But Max put up with the not so subtle taunting that came with her after school job, because she really enjoyed working. And meeting people and learning how to organize the bulk of Mrs. Gallagher’s world. And when she managed to garner Sam and Dean some jobs doing yard work for the elderly folks that lived in the community still, everyone al around was happy.
The Friday before the Winchester’s were heading out ghost hunting, turned out to be a miserable day for Max. Mrs. Gallagher told her the evening before that she wouldn’t need her Friday afternoon, since she had a doctor’s appointment and her employees, Shannon and Tony, were both scheduled to work and would be able to handle everything. School had been abysmal as well. All the kids could talk about were the Halloween parties they were attending. Justine had tried to invite Max to her house for a sleepover, but Max had been forced to decline. Justine had been giving her the cold shoulder all day. There was an incident at recess. One of the boys in fourth grade had bet Max that she couldn’t do a trick on the monkey bars. Unable to pass up showing off just a little, Max had done a handstand across two bars, and held the position for a little over three minutes, when her teacher, on recess duty that week, had come charging over.
After being berated, in front of all the students, Mrs. Kirkegaard had grabbed Max by the ear and marched her off to the class room for another good talking to. After being told that she was irresponsible, a show off and a danger to herself and possibly others, Max really wanted to put her early childhood training to use.
Normally, her hatred was reserved for the good people of Manticore that had created and then tortured her and her siblings. But this old bat was coming closer than any other being under the sun. The rest of Max’s day was spent in misery as Mrs. Kirkegaard found the most horrible punishment she could for Max.
Subsequently, when Max arrived home with the boys, who were brimming full of excitement about their weekend hunt, she couldn’t find it in herself to match their level of excitement. She went up to her room and lay down to wait until dinner. Through dinner, a quick affair of macaroni and cheese and little hot dogs with green beans on the side, Max was quiet and withdrawn. John wondered what had happened to put her in a funk, but didn’t say anything in front of the boys.
When he asked Max to help him wash up after dinner and dismissed the boys to get their homework done before they left the next morning, he asked her carefully what was bothering her. She admitted that Mrs. Gallagher had a doctor’s appointment and she wasn’t sure if the older lady would need her help any more. John thought he’d reached the crux of the problem, knowing the bond between child and older woman. He tried to reassure her that things wouldn’t change that much. She could still help out Mrs. Gallagher in other ways, like helping the boys keep her yard neat. Max simply nodded and continued drying the dishes.
Later that night, Max was unable to sleep. She could hear, with her extra sensitive ears, the not quite snoring rumble that John emitted when he slept. And she wasn’t sure about going to him either, when she’d seen how he reacted when one of the children was in trouble. Crazed maniac was how Dean liked to call it. Thinking of Dean and then of Sam, Max found herself thinking of Zack and Ben. Her big brothers were always there at Manticore to help her, no matter if she was scared or couldn’t sleep. She wondered if Dean and Sam would be the same. She thought they would, since they’d given every indication that she was one of them now.
Taking the chance, Max slipped out of her sleeping bag and gathered it up in her arms, along wither pillow. She crept out of her room on silent feet and down the hall to Sam and Deans’ room. She knocked as quietly as she could. She was surprised when she heard Dean give a sleepy, startled, “what?”
She poked her head into their room. “Dean? You awake?”
In the dark, Dean struggled to identify what was going on. “Max?” He sat up in his sleeping bag, rubbing his eyes. He glanced at Sam, but the younger boy was still asleep. “What’s the matter?”
“I can’t sleep?” she admitted softly. “Can I sleep in here?”
“Sure thing,” he mumbled, the smirked as he realized that she had already brought along her sleep gear. He scooted closer to the wall so that she’d have some room between him and Sam. Max laid her sleeping bag down and climbed in, setting the pillow down and laying her head back. “Okay?” Dean asked and she nodded. “M’night,” he mumbled drowsily.
As he waited for Max to drop of to sleep, Dean wondered at her behavior. She hadn’t ever come into his and Sam’s room before, respecting their privacy in an unusual manner. At least he assumed it was unusual. All the guys he knew talked about what a pain their little siblings were. And he could agree somewhat. Sammy could be a pain in the butt when he wanted to. Dean opened one eye to find Max watching him.
“This is where you’re supposed to go to sleep,” he whispered to her with a smile. Max nodded and then glanced away. Dean was surprised to see a tear glistening at the corner of her eye. He could just barely make it out by the moonlight moving through the room. He sat up, immediately concerned. It was even rarer to see Max in tears. He hadn’t seen it since they’d rescued her on the streets and asked her to be part of their family. “What’s wrong?” he asked harshly. Max sniffed once and shook her head. He realized that he was being gruff and tried to nullify the concern welling up in his chest. “Max, what happened today?” He knew that something was wrong, since his father had been talking with her earlier.
“Just a bad day,” she answered softly and swiftly, but Dean could hear the tension underlying those words. His hand moved to push the hair back from her eyes.
“We all have ‘em,” he told her philosophically. “What happened?”
So Max proceeded to tell him about her bad day, but when she reached the part about her teacher she paused. She bit her lip and sighed. “I don’t think my teacher likes me,” she finally admitted to her pseudo brother.
Dean smiled. The kid was too much like Sammy, always wanting the teachers to like them, striving to impress them. “I’ve had some teachers like that,” he told her. “Don’t worry about it. Some people just don’t like kids. I don’t know why so many of them seem to be teachers. But that’s just the way it is.”
“I know that,” Max told him defensively. “But she…”
Dean grew concerned then, seeing that perhaps this problem went deeper than he realized. His voice grew hard as he asked her, “what did she do Max?”
When the girl didn’t answer, Sam who’d woken up and listened to his little sister’s woes, answered for her. “She grabbed her down off the monkey bars today and yanked her around, then dragged her off back to the school by her ear.”
“What!” Dean exploded. His fury mounted quickly. Nobody, but nobody manhandled his family. Especially a little girl who wouldn’t fight back. Sam sat up as well, realizing that they were going to be up for a while. Now that he was thinking about it, he could recall the moment with ease. He’d been doing his work, along with the rest of his eighth grade class, when something had caught his attention outside. He could hear from his seat by the window, muffled yelling from outside. He realized that the elementary was on their recess break. Glancing out, he saw the commotion surrounding Max. He took it all in, until Max and her teacher were out of sight. And then his attention had been called back to his work by his teacher.
He’d bent his head back to his paper, but when he looked up again a few minutes later, he saw his teacher, Ms. Fowler standing at the window, staring out with a concerned expression her face. She frowned and tugged thoughtfully at one earlobe before giving a sigh and moving back to her desk. Sam had wondered then if she’d seen what had happened as well.
He told this to his older brother and Dean’s face was thoughtful as well. “All the other kids say that Kirkegaard’s an old ogre,” Sammy finished up with this pronouncement.
“Yeah,” he grunted. “The kids in my class have a few other words for her. But that sure as hell doesn’t give her the right to be pushing kids around.” He looked down at Max. “Has this ever happened before?” She shook her head no.
“Should we tell Dad?” Sam asked, knowing with absolute certainty that John Winchester would blow a fuse. Dean considered and then shook his head in the negative.
“Only if it happens again,” he decided. “But until then…” he trailed off, grinning evilly. Sam started to grin as well. Max looked back and forth between them.
“What?” she asked, starting to smile herself. She could almost see the thoughts flying back and forth between them.
“You know what supernatural hunters do to mean old ogre lady teachers?” Dean asked, his voice dripping with amusement. Max’s eyes lit up a little and she shook her head again. “You prank them!”
“Yeah!” Sammy agreed enthusiastically. Max giggled.
“Come here,” Dean commanded, scooting over so he could wrap an arm around the little girl. She snuggled into his embrace, resting her head on his shoulder. He motioned to Sam to scoot closer as well. “This is what we’ll do,” he began and for the next hour, until they dropped off, the threesome planned what revenge they would exact on the evil teacher, Mrs. Kirkegaard.
John listened with a smile to some of the more evil of Dean’s plans. That kid could get crazy and almost psychotic with his pranks when he wanted to. He rolled to his side, hoping that the kids would never realize that their voices carried through the heating duct and filtered right down to his room. He wasn’t surprised that they weren’t going to tell him about the teacher. They were getting independent in a way that he wanted to encourage. They needed to learn to fend for themselves at some point. And he was absurdly pleased how they rallied for one another. He’d always seen the boys do it and now they were doing it for Max.
He bit his lip to stifle a laugh at Dean’s latest suggestion, but his eyes widened when he heard Max’s addition. His little girl was just as bloodthirsty as the boys. He shook his head in wonderment and checked his watch. He hoped they’d drop off soon, since they had to make an early start. And to his relief they did. He fell asleep not too long after them, thinking the whole time that Mrs. Gallagher was right. He really did raise a hell of a family.
Chapter Nine
No comments:
Post a Comment