Crossover Fic: In a Hand-basket (5/13) Supernatural/Veronica Mars

Oct 09, 2011 14:13


** See Part One for full story notes and disclaimers.

PART FIVE NOTES: After a bone-headed move where I managed to destroy almost a week's worth of work, I'm calling the day a loss. I'll start over tomorrow and hope I can recreate at least a bit of what I had. Too bad they were extensive notes on plot and character arcs for a nice, long work. (sigh) I'll give my thanks here for the lovely comments on Part Four. With any luck, I'll get my head back on straight and return to business as usual. Huge thanks go to Jack and Lyn for their amazing, super-speed beta work. You both were life-savers! Any remaining mistakes are purely mine as I tend to fiddle up until the very last minute. And I mean that literally this time. (vbg) As always, any and all feedback is appreciated.

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Part Five

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THEN...

Forcing a deep breath into his lungs, Dean shook off the memories. His skin was clammy with sweat, his eyes leaking wetness down his cheeks. He allowed himself one more minute to enjoy the simple pleasure of respiration then pushed to his feet. His muscles shook as if he'd tried to bench press his beloved Impala. His clothes were soaked with perspiration. He hadn't experienced a full-on flashback in months. It was something he was sure he could live without ever again. Another two measured breaths and he locked the wall back up. With luck it would stay that way this time.

He quickly gathered what he needed for a shower and slipped into the bathroom. He doubted he'd sleep after his return to Funsville, but at least he could lie down clean for a little while. Maybe the nightmares would leave off their relentless chase for once.

NOW...

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Veronica stared after him long after the sound of Dean's footsteps vanished. There was a huge piece of the puzzle she was missing. She didn't need their covertly traded looks to figure that out. Her old instincts were clawing their way back to life with every passing hour she was free. It was both liberating and frightening at the same time.

"Veronica?"

She snapped around to meet Jo's honey-brown eyes. She got the feeling it wasn't the first time the other woman had called her name. "What? Sorry. What did you say?"

Jo laughed a little though the amusement never reached her eyes. "I'll admit he's worth a lingering glance or two, but it's easier to do when he's still in the room."

"That's not what..." She cut herself off with a shake of the head. There was no reason to go into defensive mode. However, Jo had given her the perfect out. What remained of her pride simply wouldn't let her take it. "I know you two gave me the bare bones version. I'm sure it would take longer than any of us want to go into everything that's happened. But I'm going to go out on that limb again and say he's a lot more involved in what happened than either of you said, wasn't he?" It was purely a guess, but from Dean's relentless attitude toward demons and the search he was all fired up to get back to it wasn't a shot in the dark either. He hadn't gotten that monster of a scar by sitting around knitting sweaters from the comfort of his living room.

A long silence filled the air between them. Jo didn't so much as blink while Veronica waited patiently for her to decide what she was going to say. She had to admit the other woman was good. There wasn't the slightest hint she had more than air floating between her ears when Veronica knew more thoughts were flying through there than a Cray supercomputer. She didn't begrudge Jo. If it was her friend, she would be just as protective. Under normal circumstances she never would have said anything, but her instincts had a mind of their own now they were awake and were quite happily dragging her along for the ride. The only reason she didn't muzzle them was the fact they'd never purposely hurt her or anyone else in her life. Somehow she had the feeling she needed this information. Dean needed her to have this information. The thought sent a shiver of apprehension down her spine. She didn't have time to analyze it because Jo was already speaking.

"That's not my story to tell, Veronica."

"But that is a yes."

"That's a 'Dean's the only person who can answer it.'" Her eyes sharpened into hawk-like focus, narrowing ever so slightly. "Any particular reason you're asking or is it just morbid curiosity?"

It was one of those times she was perfectly happy to let her mouth take over. She had a vague sense of necessity, but it wasn't anything concrete yet. She could only hope what came out would be coherent enough to satisfy Jo. Hell, she was hoping it would clear up her own confusion. She almost winced at the expression. She'd have to find a new invective. That particular one had lost all enjoyment for her suddenly. "More than once Dean's mentioned getting back out there to search for someone. I can help him."

"Really? And how's that? Veronica, you're walking bait." She didn't say it with intent to be cruel. It was more a statement of fact; one Veronica had no intention of denying.

"I was a private investigator before all-" She cut herself off and this time she did wince. "Just before. I wasn't half bad at tracking people down."

Jo leaned forward over the table, the intensity shifting. "We don't have all those nice little tools you were able to access before. No Internet. No phones. We barely have electricity. Still think you can track someone?"

Her heart thumped against her ribs in sudden double-time, the old thrill of a new case working through her veins before she was even hired. "I'm also really good at reading patterns. And I have one thing neither of you do." Jo didn't ask, just raised an eyebrow. In response, Veronica tugged up the sleeve of her stiff shirt. A series of letters and numbers scrawled their way across the tender inner skin of her forearm. Her tag. "I have this." Jo stared at the mark as if it was just waiting for her to blink so it could strike. She had to have seen one before, but her reaction was grossly out of proportion with what Veronica thought it should have been. "You did mention something about bait?"

"Yeah, but that wasn't exactly what I was referring to."

She still couldn't seem to look away so Veronica removed the offending sight by sliding her sleeve back down to her wrist. "I figured. And I'll be the first to admit I'm not much of a physical person, but I do know how to run and I'm not too stubborn to listen to the people shouting at me to do so."

Something in her words seemed to strike a chord deep inside Jo. Her mouth tightened, lips rubbing together in a way that looked painful. Her fingers tapped a rhythm on the table. Veronica kept silent. Whatever Jo was thinking, she needed to work her way through it without interruption. Even years out of the game she could recognize the look. After a few more minutes, Jo stood, one hand waving her down. "Stay here. I'll be back in a second."

It was more like five minutes, but she didn't mind. It gave her extra time to identify the fuzzy dots in her head. Connecting them would take a whole lot of alone time and a whole lot of luck mixed with a healthy dose of intuition. Hopefully it would come out of hiding as strong as her instinct had. She drank the last few drops of water in her cup and refilled it from the pitcher on the counter. The long drive had done nothing to help her dehydration. She had a feeling it would take a week at least for her body to forgive her for the abuse of the last year. It hadn't been her fault, but there was no convincing the miracle that was the human machine. It wanted what it wanted and to hell with anything else. And that should be a big 'h,' she told herself, settling herself back at the table.

When Jo reappeared, she was calmly sipping water and not having a minor panic attack as her brain finally digested the reality of Hell being a physical place and not just somewhere parents all over the world frightened their children with into doing the right thing. Thankfully the panic had settled into a stunned numbness. She knew it would wear off sooner rather than later, but she'd enjoy it while it lasted.

Setting a thick blue folder on the table, Jo sat across from her once again. She laid one hand protectively over the top, fingers splayed wide. "This is everything I have on paper. If you can find something new in here, something that will give Dean a new lead, I'll do everything I can to convince him to let you tag along."

That was quite possibly the very last thing Veronica thought she'd hear out of Jo's mouth. She knew her face resembled a gaping fish, but she couldn't seem to get it back under control. The spreading grin on Jo's face helped her enough to stutter out, "Why? I mean, thank you, really. But why the offer?" She doubted it was because they needed new information that badly. She was already going to give him everything she could strain out of her brain about the camps. Jo didn't need to bribe her into it and the other woman had to know that.

"Because I have to stay close to the Roadhouse. And Dean doesn't do alone well."

Without asking, Veronica knew this would be another case of Dean-only answers. She pulled the folder closer and flipped open the cover. Handwritten notes scrawled their way over the entire page. Even the margins were filled with numerous lines of script. Each page was the same. Some were listings of camps, others cities and towns. Still others had nothing but names and dates, columns long enough to raise bile in her throat. Maps filled the last half of the folder, pencil marks and highlighting more prevalent than the roads themselves. "This is a lot. It's going to take me more than a few hours to sift through it all. Is there any way you can stall him? Keep him here long enough to let me have a real crack at this?" If there was something to find she'd wrench it out, but she had no illusions it was going to be easy. Jo and Dean had obviously been working on it a long time.

Apparently it was right thing to say. Jo's eyes softened as she smiled, leaning back in her chair. "I can probably get you two days. Guaranteed if you string something together by tomorrow night."

It wasn't long, but it wasn't impossible either. She'd performed greater miracles in her Neptune days. She set the pages back into the folder and closed it. "You got it. Thank you, Jo. I need to... Well, this is something I have to do."

"Trust me. I understand. We've all lost in this war. It's only a matter of how much and if a person can survive it."

There wasn't much to say after Jo's synopsis. Veronica headed up to the room Jo had assigned her, the well-used blue folder carried protectively against her chest. The room was simple and functional. A twin bed, chair, small dresser and smaller closet completed its tally of amenities. It was absolutely beautiful. The overhead light was a muted glow above her, comfortably bright without the harsh glare she'd grown to despise in the camps. She changed into the sleepwear the other woman had set out on the bed and slid beneath the sheets. The cotton was cool on her exposed skin and the blanket was a comforting weight over her legs. She sat up against the headboard, setting the folder on her thighs.

It was an all too familiar feeling, despite its absence over the last five years. She'd spent more time going over cases before she went to sleep than the reading she'd always sworn she was going to get to. Now, staring down at the words that would hopefully lead Dean to the end of his search, she was glad she'd never bothered with the books. This was far more important.

She read until her eyes were taking longer and longer blinks and she woke with her chin bouncing off of her chest. Reluctantly, she set the folder aside on the small night table. Her brain would mull it all over while she slept and then she'd feed it more. She'd ask Jo for some paper in the morning. Already she'd seen curious connections she needed answers for. As she got up to turn out the light, a slight flicker from the window sill underneath the heavy curtain caught her attention. She tugged aside the cloth and a grin filled her chest with warmth.

A thick line of salt protected the window.

She set the curtain carefully back into place, ensuring the line was unbroken. The last thing she needed to do was make such a huge mistake just as she was trying to convince Dean she wouldn't get either of them killed.

Her last waking thought revolved around the incredible sensation of the pillow against her cheek and then there was nothing.

The sun stole through the tiny space between the curtain and the window to shine across her eyes. She rolled over, frowning, one arm struggling free of the covers to drape over her face and give a blessed return to darkness. Stupid sun. She just wanted a few more minutes.

The sun.

Shining on her face.

She sat upright between one adrenaline jolted heartbeat and next, the blankets and sheet puddling over her legs. The small room was just as she'd left it the night before and all the more stunning because of it.

It hadn't been a dream. The accident, Dean, Jo. All of it was real. Tears welled in her eyes and she swiped them away impatiently. It was quite all right to feel relief, but tears were not acceptable. She was free. What could she possibly have to cry about? She dressed quickly, ran fingers through her hair to straighten the probable mess and went down the hall to brush her teeth. The smell of coffee assaulted her nose as she climbed down the stairs. For once the thought of freshly brushed teeth flavor and coffee didn't bother her in the slightest. At least there was coffee.

"Morning, Veronica," Jo said from her place at the table. Veronica wondered idly how much sleep the poor woman had gotten. She hadn't heard her steps in the hallway before she'd dropped. Then again, a herd of elephants could have paraded by and she might not have noticed. "Coffee's in the percolator, food's on the stove. Help yourself."

She appreciated the make-yourself-at-home atmosphere. Without doing a thing Jo had given her something much more than merely a place to stay, even if it was only for a few days. "Thanks. What time is it?"

"A little past nine. Dean's out working on the truck."

It wasn't going to be her next question, but it might have been her third or fourth. As long as he hadn't left, he could be planting daisies for all she cared. No, she corrected herself, she would care, it just wouldn't make any difference to her if he was planting happy little flowers. She had to admit mechanic was an image that came to mind much easier than gardener. Steam curled invitingly up and over her hand as she poured a mug of coffee. The scent hit her with the full weight of memory. She could almost see the Java Hut logo emblazoned on the utilitarian tan mug in her hand. Except there was no Logan waiting at the table for her and no Mac or Wallace ready with teasing grins about her caffeine addiction, one they shared equally between them. She blew across the top of the liquid before taking a tiny sip. It burned all the way down yet she nearly groaned as the flavor slapped across her tongue. "Thank God we still have coffee beans."

"Enjoy it while you can," Jo said, a note of reality in her tone Veronica had no love for. "Because unless you can grow and roast your own beans, this'll be my last batch. My supplier is tapped out."

"That's just mean." It came out without thought and sounded as juvenile as it had when she'd said the same thing to her father.

Unlike her dad, however, Jo grinned, her shoulders shrugging up once. "I agree. But coffee doesn't grow so well up here without a greenhouse and our supply routes have taken a beating over the last couple of months. They're working on new ones."

She didn't have to say it wasn't going as well as hoped. Veronica could read it on her face. "I guess I'll have to make each sip count then."

"That's a healthy way to look at it."

"Well, that's me, Healthy-Girl." Sitting at the table with her plate of eggs and roasted vegetables, she almost felt like she had a five-course meal in front of her. The smells alone were enough to send her stomach into spasms of happiness. Jo let her eat without interruption. Once the last morsel of fluffy egg was carefully scraped up, Veronica sat back with a smile. "That was awesome. Thanks."

"You're welcome. I'm glad you enjoyed it." One corner of her mouth twitched up slightly. "Although I'm sure it could have been burned beyond belief and it'd still taste pretty good right about now."

"You're the one who said it." They both laughed and Veronica was pleasantly surprised to find hers wasn't forced. The memories, while they'd always be with her, were already fading into just that. "You have a chicken coop hidden out back as well?"

Jo nodded, taking another long pull from her mug. "And a vegetable garden. It's easiest to be as self-sustaining as possible. Dean and I are able to trade for some of the things I can't make or grow here. Surprisingly enough there are still a few stores out there that haven't been completely looted. He finds one every now and then."

It was a totally different world than the one she'd been living in for so long. Though the food had been miserable, she'd been fed twice a day. She'd never had to wonder where she'd sleep at night and she knew she'd always have at least the coveralls for clothing. Dean and Jo had to grow, find or make everything they had. It made her all the more determined to help in any way she could, to repay them for taking her in without question and sharing their limited supplies. "I went over as much of the file as I could last night. If you have some scrap paper, I could really use it." There was a pattern hidden in the lines, she was sure of it, but it was buried beneath too much extra information.

"Sure. I may even have a highlighter that still works."

"That'd be great." She glanced around the kitchen, taking in the second door leading into what appeared to be an old-fashioned mud room. "Where's the best place for me to work?" Veronica had no idea if Jo was keeping her research from Dean and if she was, she wanted no part of letting him in on it.

Jo drained the last drops from her mug and stood. "This is the best place. It's the only flat surface large enough. Spread out as much as you need to. Let me deal with Dean."

It sounded good to her, but something told her Dean already knew.

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continued in Part 6

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Thanks for reading!

(go to Master Post)

( Part 1) ( Part 2) ( Part 3) ( Part 4)

apocafic, crossover fic, in a hand-basket, supernatural fic, veronica mars fic, challenges

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