Part VII
They drove in silence for a few miles, Liv unusually preoccupied.
"Hey,” Sam’s voice was apologetic. "I'm sorry if I caught you off guard back there."
"Oh," She seemed suddenly startled by her silence, only now realizing they'd not spoken a word since leaving Dean and Isabella.
Liv's eyes flickered to him and he could tell she was tempted to downplay her emotions or not acknowledge them at all. His respect for her increased when she didn't do either.
Her eyes returned to the road, contemplatively. After a moment she spoke. "It does catch me off guard sometimes - how much I miss her."
Sam nodded, subtly turning his body towards Liv but keeping his eyes on the road.
"Jenna is the first thing I think about when I wake up and the last before I sleep. To lose a child..."
She stopped abruptly and Sam lowered his head at the emotion in her voice, giving her whatever time she needed.
"We had such little time together as friends, Jenna and I." Liv's voice was steady again, speaking fondly of her daughter. "There are so many things I find myself wanting to share with her, something adorable that Isabella did or something funny that Dean said."
Sam nodded in the darkness.
"I feel the pain of her absence everyday." She shrugged a little in her seat but didn't glance at him. "For the most part, it's become a dull ache that I've learned to live with, but occasionally, out of the blue...it takes my breath away."
"I'm sorry,” Sam said in response to the emotion that once again filled Liv's voice.
Liv gave him a quick smile, eyes bright. "No, I'm sorry. Here I go unloading on you again." She laughed a little then added, "You, young man, are very easy to talk to. But you don't want to hear this. I'm sorry, Sam."
"Don't be,” Sam assured her sincerely. "It's okay, really." And while his next comment was for levity, it was actually extremely accurate. "I seem to have that effect on people."
Liv laughed again, a little less teary-eyed, as Sam intended. "I'd have to agree with you there," she said.
Despite his genuine fondness for Liv, Sam managed to feel a heel for latching on to the opportunity presented. For weeks he had been waiting for the appropriate time to gather more personal information on Jenna and her relationship with Dean, and now that it was here, he sure as hell wasn't going to waste it.
As they drove through the center of town, Sam casually asked, "Would you like to grab a cup of coffee?" At her sideways glance Sam added, “I’m a great listener."
Liv nodded after a moment and then made the left hand turn that would take them to the local Dunkin Donuts. "I think that's a great idea." And Sam suddenly got the impression, by her tone of voice, that he wasn't the only one with an agenda.
At nearly 8:30 pm, they had the place pretty much to themselves. Once Liv had her small decaf with cream and sugar and he his half-caf, double vanilla latte they seated themselves at a small table near a window in the corner. Sam waited for Liv to either pick up where she left off or take the conversation in whatever direction she wanted.
"Jenna was a nurse. Did you know that?" She asked after a few moments of silence.
"No." Yes. Sam regretfully lied. "I didn't." He wanted Liv to give him as much information as possible with no assumptions as to what he may or may not know.
Liv nodded. "These headaches of Dean's...he hasn't had them for a very long time. Jenna - she'd always been there before. She knew how to deal with them, how to take care of him."
She looked a little uncomfortable sharing things that were considered private, but Sam could tell she was working her way beyond that.
"She was so good with him, Sam. Jenna knew exactly what to do. I guess it just hit me all of a sudden that she won’t be there to help him this time. I just...I don't know what to do."
The admission obviously left her feeling helpless.
"From what I've seen you're quite good with him." Granted it had only been that one brief moment during Sunday dinner that he'd witnessed, but Liv had calmed, soothed and supported his brother through the entire ordeal.
Grateful, she smiled mildly, clearly recalling the incident in which Sam was referring, “That was minor. Sam..." Liv's voice was grave, held a level of fear that put Sam on edge. "They could get much, much worse. If it's anything like before..."
Sam's brows rose nearly to his hairline in frustration when Liv trailed off. Clearly, she wasn't as comfortable with the discussion as he'd thought.
"Before?" he prompted, watching as she hesitated.
"It's complicated," Liv said apologetically, "and not my story to tell." Sam realized that it wasn't that she was uncomfortable, just that she didn't want to betray Dean's confidence. He was fairly certain Liv was aware of the amnesia - something like that was pretty hard to hide - but he was equally certain that she knew nothing of Jenna's deal with John.
Sam did his best to hide his disappointment, not entirely sure he succeeded. He knew what happened to Dean, knew better than Liv did the specifics of his injuries - he'd just been hoping for some details.
"Fair enough," he conceded, letting it go. But he wasn't ready to give up entirely. "So, Jenna was a nurse?"
More than happy to talk about her daughter, Liv's face again lit up at Jenna's name. "She was," she said proudly, and then to Sam's satisfaction added, "in fact, that's how she and Dean met. Jenna was his nurse."
"Really?" Sam leaned forward, elbows on the table, large hands wrapped around his cup, entire body conveying his interest.
"She was good, too." Liv shook her head, as if amazed at that. "The sad thing is, I don't think I ever would have believed it if I hadn't seen her in action with my own eyes."
Sam tipped his head, brows quirking in confusion, at her comment.
"When Jenna was a child we used to have these discussions about what she wanted to be when she grew up," Liv explained. "The answers I got never ceased to amaze me. It was always 'a paratrooper' or something crazy like 'a stunt woman' or a whale trainer at Sea World. I just never knew what she was going to come up with." Sam laughed at that and couldn't help but think of Dean.
"I asked her once 'why not something practical like a nurse?'" Liv looked at him, her eyes sad. "She scoffed at the time, saying it was too ordinary and that she wasn't cut out to take care of other people."
Sam took another sip of his coffee, being careful not to interrupt, letting Liv control the flow of the conversation.
"I never told her so, but I agreed with her at the time." Liv said quietly. "I didn't say it, but I think she knew what I thought."
Liv took a sip of her coffee and looked out the window for a long time.
"I loved my daughter, Sam." Pulling her eyes from the passing traffic, she looked at Sam. "But I spent a lot of time not liking her very much. Jenna was spoiled, self-centered and rebellious. Before Ramsey died, she was already well on her way to trouble, hanging out with the wrong people, getting suspended from school, experimenting with drugs."
She shook her head sadly, admitting, "I don't know how that happened. I mean we did everything right, at least, we tried to. Jenna grew up in a loving home with two parents. We gave her all of things we never had as children, offered her constant love and support, but none of that seemed to matter. Nothing we did seemed to matter. It's like she was hell bent on a path of destruction that we were helpless to stop."
"That had to be rough,” Sam empathized, a little surprised at what he was hearing.
"I never realized exactly how much of a buffer Ramsey was between Jenna and me until he was gone. When he died, everything just sort of fell apart." Then Liv admitted, "I fell apart. I retreated from everyone and everything - including Jenna."
Liv's guilt and shame was obvious. "When she needed me the most, I wasn't there for her."
Trying to be understanding Sam said, "You were dealing with your own grief."
"That's what I told myself, but I knew she was hurting, I knew she needed me." Liv sat back as if distancing herself. "I was the parent, Sam. It was my job to overcome petty indifferences and bridge that gap between us."
There really wasn't much Sam could say to that, so he remained silent.
"I realized that eventually and tried to reach out to her." Liv shook her head ruefully. "It was too little, too late. I'd already lost her."
At the questioning quirk of Sam's brows, Liv continued. "While I was drowning my sorrows in isolation, Jenna turned to more recreational and illegal means of numbing her pain."
"Drugs?" Sam asked, trying to keep his voice non judgmental.
"Drugs and other things I'm sure I'm better off not knowing about." The tone of Liv's voice indicated she knew exactly what, or more likely whom, those other things were.
"She dropped out of school halfway through her senior year,” Liv sighed in remembered disappointment. "We had quite the go-round about that one."
Sam listened to the slow downward spiral of a mother/daughter relationship that had never been all that strong to begin with.
"When Jenna pawned some of my jewelry, most of which had more sentimental than monetary value, to buy drugs - I'd finally had enough. I threatened to have her committed to a rehabilitation facility. She was only seventeen at the time - and very aware that I could do so against her will."
"That must have gotten her attention,” Sam said and then asked, "What'd she do?"
Liv's eyes watered but no tears fell. It took her a moment to answer. "She ran."
Sam's surprise must have been evident.
"For eight months, I had no idea where she was."
"God," Sam said in commiseration. "You must have been worried sick."
That was an understatement by the look Liv gave him.
"To this day I still don't know where she went or who she was with - but I do know that someone took care of her." It was obvious that Liv had mixed feelings about that. "Even years later when we were able to talk about some of this stuff, she refused to elaborate about where she was at that time."
Sam made a small sound in the back of his throat, mirroring Liv's curiosity.
"Then one day I came home from work and there she was,” Liv said, an echo of that long ago surprise evident, “sound asleep on the couch."
Liv took a sip of her coffee only to realize her cup was empty. Sam offered her another but she declined.
"She slept for days,” Liv recalled, a faraway look in her eyes. "When we were finally able to talk, she informed me that she was clean and that she'd managed to get her GED."
Sam heard a sadness in Liv's voice that spoke of another hurdle.
"She told me she wanted to become a nurse and asked for my help in getting into the right school."
"Wow, that's quite a turn around,” Sam noted.
"It was," Liv looked away again, then, "I didn't believe her."
Sam winced inwardly, imagining the conflict that likely arose.
"So much had happened; she'd broken my trust so many times. I wanted so badly to believe her, to believe in her...I just couldn't."
"What happened?" Sam asked softly.
"Jenna didn't react the way I'd expected her to. She was angry and upset, of course, but not malicious or vindictive like she had been. We both said things we shouldn't have, things that haunted me for years, but what I remember most about that conversation is the fire in her eyes." A beat of silence. "I mistook it for more rebellion." Liv gave a small humorless laugh. "In hindsight I realized it was determination."
Sam regarded her curiously.
"One of the last things she said to me was ‘I'm gonna prove you wrong, Mamma’." Liv's voice filled with emotion once again.
There was no blocking the tears this time; they rolled down Liv's face unchecked. "I can't tell you how many mornings I woke up regretting that one." Sam reached for some napkins, handing them to her. She took them with a watery smile and a sniffle.
"When I came home from work the next day, she was gone." Liv dried her tears, eyes red-rimmed as she looked at him. "I didn't see her again for nearly four years, until she showed up on my doorstep one morning with Dean."
"Four years?" Sam's surprise was evident, keeping with the thread of Liv's story rather than fishing for details about Dean that he hoped would unravel naturally. "That's a bit extreme." He ignored his brother's voice in his head. He was not a hypocrite. His situation was entirely different.
Hypocrite.
"That was Jenna,” Liv said with equal parts fondness and exasperation. "My baby never did anything by halves."
Happy to see Liv smiling again, the corner of Sam's mouth quirked in response.
"'Hi, Mamma, this is Dean.'"
"Not so much as a call or a post card the entire time she was gone and she just looks at me, full of hope and fear, and still that damn thread of defiance in her eyes.
The girl had gall, Sam would give her that. "What'd you do?"
"What could I do?" Liv asked. "Jenna offered me the opportunity I'd been praying for every single day since she walked out of my life. I took it. Happily."
Sam nodded but remained silent, waiting for her to continue.
"And Dean...well..." Liv snorted softly, affectionately. "I dare anyone to defy that boys God-given charm," she said with a shake of her head.
"Won you over pretty easily, did he?" Sam's laughter was genuine and warm.
"He did - not that he had to try,” Liv explained. "Jenna made it very clear that they were a package deal. I knew if I wanted my daughter in my life that I had to make room for Dean as well."
"Did she say that?" Sam asked curiously.
"She didn't have to." Liv met his gaze steadily. "I saw it in her eyes when she looked at him, in her touch when she held him."
Despite his best efforts, Sam felt a small, residual flare of jealousy.
"Had I even hinted at disapproval, I'm certain she would have disappeared from my life once and for all. I wasn't about to take that chance."
"I'm glad everything worked out okay." Sam said.
"Oh, it was far from smooth sailing,” Liv continued. "Jenna and I had a lifetime of hard feelings and miscommunication to overcome, and poor Dean ended up taking on the role of referee more often than not. That in itself was a blessing that I soon came to rely on."
"How's that?" Sam asked.
"Dean never took sides. Never raised his voice. And..." Liv's voice and brows rose, conveying her surprise. "He was a voice of reason that Jenna actually listened to."
"Really?" Sam had to admit, it was fascinating to learn about Dean from someone else's point of view.
"It was like Dean was given this instructional handbook for Jenna that I should have been given at birth,” Liv said without rancor. "He could read her better than I ever could. One word from him and her entire demeanor changed."
Sam could tell that this was something that to this day still managed to amaze Liv.
"Of course, they completely turned my life upside down,” Liv said in a tone indicating that she wouldn't have it any other way. "Dean was fresh out of the hospital. Jenna had given up her job in Atlanta. Everything they owned was crammed into the back of the Impala. They stayed with me for almost six months while Jenna looked for another nursing position and they found a place of their own. Then there was the wedding, the pregnancy, the baby..."
Sam responded to the nostalgia in Liv's voice. "Sounds wonderful."
Guard down, he sounded wistful. Sam cursed his lapse when Liv's gaze sharpened imperceptibly.
"It was, it really was. They were so in love, Sam." He dipped his head in acknowledgement, happy for Dean in a way that was almost painful. "Dean showed me a side of my daughter that I'd never seen before. That I don't think I ever would have seen were it not for him. Jenna was loving and gentle and caring, truly content and happy for the first time in her life. All because of Dean. He brought out the best in her." A heartbeat of a pause. "Together - they were beautiful."
The faraway look in Liv's eyes slowly morphed into one of devastation. "And then one night...it was all just...ripped away."
She had to glance away from the sympathy she saw on Sam's face.
"It was a drunk driver?" Sam asked, sensing that Liv needed to talk just as much as he needed to know the details about what really happened.
She nodded. "I've known Ed, Sheriff Lansing," Liv clarified, "since high school. He came to me first. Woke me up just after 2 am Saturday morning."
Liv pulled back, scrubbed at her face, trying to distance herself from the raw ache of too painful memories.
"We went to Dean together." Her voice faltered and she paused for a long time. "Jenna was filling in for someone else, so she wasn't working her usual shift. She'd called Dean on her cell as she was leaving the hospital just before midnight. They spoke until she hit the dead spot on 26." Sam was familiar with the nearly three mile stretch on route 26 to and from Millidge that got no cell reception. He'd lost a call with John, one of the few times he'd actually called, that first time he'd tailed Dean to the university. "The last thing she said to him was 'I love you.'"
Her voice broke again and a few hot tears slipped out. Sam reached for more napkins. Liv sat there, silently replaying the events of that fateful night.
"Dean knew. As soon as he saw my face he knew." Liv met his gaze again. "He was waiting up for her. Whatever he saw in my eyes wiped away any hope that Jenna had merely run out of gas or had a flat tire or encountered some other inconvenience that would explain why she wasn't home yet.
Sam swallowed past the growing lump in his throat.
"It wasn't until he fell to his knees and Bella started crying that I realized she had been sound asleep in the Impala."
Sam tipped his head curiously.
"He was on his way to look for her,” Liv said, mirroring Sam's thoughts with her next words. "Thank God we got there first. If he had come across the accident scene...."
Liv couldn't even finish the thought. Sam didn't want her to. He could only imagine the level of devastation and grief at such a loss.
"If it weren't for Isabella, I really believe I would have lost both of them that night." Liv continued and Sam wasn't sure if he was grateful or disappointed that Liv didn't expand on the details of such a statement. He recalled John saying something similar.
"Izzy is the only thing that kept Dean anchored to the world of the living when Jenna died." Sam noted the affectionate use of Dean's beloved nickname. "He'd have drowned in grief and sorrow if not for her. She was his lifeline."
"Thank God,” Sam choked quietly then clarified when Liv studied him,"...that he had something to hold on to."
"Dean took care of Isabella,” Liv continued matter-of-factly with a little shrug, “and I took care of him."
She looked so tired and emotionally spent that Sam instinctively reached to comfort her, placing his large hand over hers on the table. "I'm sorry." Thank you for taking care of my brother. He was so grateful to Liv for being the loving and supportive presence that she was, that Dean needed her to be.
Liv's other hand covered his, squeezing briefly before Sam withdrew. "We've come a long way since then."
"How long has it been?" Sam asked, knowing the answer, wanting to keep Liv talking. Still feeling guilty about it.
"A year and a half." Liv's voice was returning to normal as she pulled herself together. "Just over a year and a half."
Sam nodded, head lowered.
"It hasn't gotten easier, but each day it's a little more bearable." Liv was fully in control again, emotions tucked safely away. "Watching Isabella grow, seeing Dean smile again...that's what keeps me going."
"It must have been confusing for Isabella. Did she understand what was going on at all?" Sam asked, for the first time truly recognizing the tragic connection they shared.
"She responded to our emotions more than anything. She was still so young - barely eighteen months. She missed her mamma I'm sure, but there was no way for her to fully comprehend what happened."
"Maybe that's a good thing,” Sam said, not really sure of that himself. He had no real memories of Mary, just the knowledge that she existed. It wasn't the same for Dean and especially John. He wasn't sure who was better off in that scenario.
"At the time, it was a blessing," Liv concurred. "But as she grows, it will become less of one. All she'll have of her mama is what Dean and I share with her. She'll never have any real memories of her own. Bella will never remember what it felt like when Jenna held her, or sang to her, or looked at her like she was the most beautiful thing ever created.
Sam didn't have any words of comfort for Liv. He knew all too well that she was exactly right. Isabella would grow up with an idealized version of Jenna that she would never fully understand or relate to, just as he had with Mary.
"It's a poor substitute, but I've been working on a video library for Dean and Isabella for nearly a year now. It's almost finished." Liv said with a sense of sad accomplishment. "I bought a camcorder for the wedding and I don't think I put it down until..."
She trailed off, not bothering to finish. They both knew when.
"Jenna used to get so irritated with me,” Liv remembered with a little laugh. "Every time she turned around - there I was with the camera. It got to be a real sore spot at one point in her pregnancy."
"I bet,” Sam responded thinking of mood swings and weight gain. "How'd you work your way around that?"
"I gave the camera to Dean,” Liv said with a satisfied there's-nothing-she-wouldn't-do-for-him smile that Sam returned.
"I'm sure Isabella will appreciate that one day,” Sam said confidently, thinking of the cherished but faded photo of Mary that he'd taken when he left for Stanford. He would sell that small part of his soul that didn't belong to Dean for just one thirty second clip of his mother doing something as mundane as washing the dishes. Maybe she would seem real to him then - if he could hear the sound her voice, see the light of life in the same long-lashed, beautiful hazel eyes she'd bequeathed to her firstborn.
"Someday," Liv agreed, “when she's ready."
Sam could feel Liv preparing for the shift in conversation during the brief but comfortable moment of silence that followed. Instinctively he straightened from his slouched position over the table, leaning back as far as his seat would allow. He was guarding himself before he even realized what he was doing. If Liv noticed his emotional distancing, she ignored it.
"So," her attempt to lighten the mood after such a heavy conversation was evident, her voice genuinely sincere. "It's been awhile since you've mentioned your family, Sam. How are they?"
Sam hesitated. He didn't want to lie, especially after Liv had been so open with him.
"I'm sorry,” she said, belatedly realizing by his reaction that she was perhaps being presumptuous. "I didn't mean to pry..."
"No," Sam interrupted. "No. It's okay. Really." Liv had shared so much with him, trusted him, invited him in to her life so readily that he found he couldn't not reciprocate.
"They're fine,” he answered, unaware of exactly how vague he was being until he saw it register on Liv's face. Sheepishly, he added, "It's...we're..." He hated to use the same term Liv used on him earlier, but it was entirely appropriate in this instance. "It's complicated."
The wry smile that pulled at the corner of Liv's mouth told him that the irony was not lost on her. Sam laughed when she tossed his words back at him in response.
"Fair enough," she agreed, but wasn't entirely willing to let it drop. He was as touched as he was shocked at her next words. "I'll pray for you, Sam. One of the most precious gifts we'll ever have is family. I hope you find your way back to yours."
"Thanks." More than a little self conscious, Sam lowered his eyes. To his knowledge, no one had ever prayed for him before. "I'm working on it."
"Good." Liv said, pleased. "At the end of the day, the people we love are all that really matters, Sam. When Ramsey died, I had so many regrets - things I wished I had said or done when I had the chance. I'm so thankful that with Jenna there was less of that. I plan on making sure I have no regrets with Dean and Isabella. They are the only family I have left."
Were it not for the subtle and likely unintentional hint of ownership in her voice, Liv's words would surely have warmed him. Instead they made Sam feel like the outsider that he was. Dean was his family. His brother. His love. His life. His…
"What about Dean?" Sam asked, hating the ache in his gut that made him feel as if his brother truly was lost to him. "Any family?"
Liv's searching gaze was brief. "No,” She said finally. "Isabella and I are all that he has."
For now, Sam conceded, feeling sad, determined and grateful all at once.
"Lucky for that,” Sam said genuinely. He could not begrudge this woman for loving his brother.
Liv's smile said she took his words for the compliment they were. Her small hand covered his where it rested on the table. "Thank you, Sam. I didn't realize how much I needed this until now."
His reply was accompanied by a quick flash of dimples, “You're welcome."
-wWw-
The following Friday was business as usual at the garage. With an influx in appointments and Dean's specialty auto show customers, he'd asked Sam if he would be willing to work full days instead of half for the remainder of the summer. Sam didn't even bother to pretend he needed time to think about it.
When Sam showed for work at exactly eight o'clock with a fresh cup of the black sludge for which his brother seemed to have a preference from the Handy Store at the edge of town, Dean was already elbow deep in the carburetor of a '68 GTO and had that intense look of concentration on his face that told Sam he was still assessing a potential problem. When he saw Sam, or more precisely, the cup of sweet nectar Sam was holding, the look morphed to one of exaggerated longing.
Sam watched with undisguised awe as Dean knocked back a large gulp of the molten liquid like it was nothing. Seriously. The tips of his fingers were still numb from transporting the scalding beverage. He shook his head and took a small careful sip of his, because really, for sludge it wasn't half bad. Dean gave him a grin that caused his stomach to flutter before turning back to the GTO.
"Rand has your itinerary for the day,” he called back over his shoulder. "We've got a VIP appointment at noon. You okay with a late lunch?" At this he turned, fully facing Sam.
Sam shrugged. "Yeah, sure." Then, "You still wanna hit the gym?"
The hesitation was minute, noticeable because he'd been watching for it. "Ah,” Dean’s gaze bounced away then came back to him, “rain check?"
Sam couldn't temper his concern, heard it filter into his voice. "Sure."
"Hey,” Dean continued. "Whatd’ya say we check out the new Chinese place over on Mollison instead? I got me a craving for some garlic chicken."
Sam blinked. He'd been expecting more distancing on Dean's part, not a lunch invitation.
Dean's brows drew together at his silence. "My treat for being such a slave driver."
He found his voice when he realized Dean sounded a little uncertain, wondering if perhaps he'd unknowingly offended Sam.
"Sounds great."
Dean nodded, taking another swig of his coffee and was already turning back to the engine he was working on. "Great. It's a date."
Sam took the comment in stride though it did spark a grin that refused to fade and garnered more than one sideways glance from Rand throughout the morning.
Despite the fact that Dean looked perfectly fine, suffering no lingering effects from the severe migraine he'd suffered two days before, Sam kept a close eye on him. They hadn't really talked about what happened at the gym or the migraine that followed since it happened. Not that he hadn't tried.
Yesterday Dean had showed up at his motel room just after seven-thirty in the morning, waking him from a sound sleep. Bleary-eyed and expecting to find the landlord on the other side of the door, Sam had no idea how long he stood gaping at his brother before Dean finally held up his messenger bag and laptop. He had inadvertently left them when Liv offered him a ride back to his car.
Never one to pass up an opportunity when one presented itself, Sam invited Dean in and then excused himself to the bathroom. He left the door open a crack while giving the impression of washing his face and brushing his teeth. Out of habit, he'd taken a room with two beds. The one he'd just climbed out of was unmade; the other was covered with books, clothes and whatever else he'd tossed out of his way. It was exactly like a thousand other rooms they'd shared over the years.
He watched Dean move slowly about the room, curious but trying not to be invasive. He fingered the edge of the gray Henley sticking out of Sam's duffel. Sam wondered if somewhere deep inside Dean knew that it once belonged to him. At some point he looked lost, out of place, unsettled. Sam decided he'd taken long enough, but it was too late. He offered to make some coffee, but his brother declined. He tried to ask if Dean was feeling okay, wanted to work his way up to more probing questions. None of that happened, because Dean was suddenly guarding himself - and it was just as clear that he wasn’t sure why. Their parting was awkward, despite Sam's efforts to put Dean at ease.
It had bothered Sam all day. Despite that, he'd given Dean his space and not called or made any other contact. Thursday was a class day for both of them, but while Dean's was an evening class, the class Sam taught was slated for late afternoon. At best they ended up passing each other on the road as they came and went from their respective destinations. So Dean's warm reception and lunch invitation this morning went a long way in assuring Sam he hadn't alienated his brother.
The morning came and went quickly with the various odds and ends that Dean and Rand had laid out for him. A little after 11 am Dean fired up the GTO, revved it up a few times and eased it out of the bay for a test run. He returned fifteen minutes later with a grin that said loud and clear I am the man. Sam and Rand exchanged indulgent looks. They already knew that.
Dean climbed out of the car but left it idling as he popped the hood. Sam and Rand joined him, all three gazing at the purring perfection before them. Dean's trained ear apparently sensed something still amiss that Sam could not. His brother had just ducked under the hood to make an adjustment when a loud, high-pitched voice echoed through the bay, heard clearly over the running engine, and startled the hell out of all three of them.
"Dean Matthews!"
Dean jumped, hissing in pain as his head collided with heavy unforgiving metal.
“Tell me that wasn’t you that just flew by me going Mach 20.”
They all turned, Sam debating on whether or not he wanted to edge in front of Dean. He wasn’t sure he wanted the look currently trained at Dean focused on him.
Dean smiled, rubbing the back of his head. He looked unperturbed at the ire directed at him. “Mach 20? More like Mach 10. Definitely within legal limits,” he assured.
“I swear. Boys and their toys.” She threw Sam and Rand a guilty-by-association glare. “Tell me you don’t drive like that with that baby girl of yours in the car. “
Sam took offense at the insinuation, but it didn’t seem to bother Dean. “Are you kidding? Izzy B loves to fly. The faster the better.”
“And why doesn’t that surprise me?” their huffy guest responded. “Like father, like daughter.”
“Hey,” Dean looked offended, but didn’t sound it. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”
With those words the woman before them softened, her entire demeanor changing. “Well,” she said in a less demanding tone, “she could do a lot worse than her papa for an example.” Then a reluctant concession, “I guess.”
The beginnings of a smirk played at the edge of her lips. Dean's mouth twitched in response.
“Missouri,” he addressed her affectionately, “you’re early.”
“I’m never early. I arrive precisely when I mean to.” She bustled closer, invading Dean's personal space. "Now come give me a hug, baby. It's been far too long."
Sam stepped back out of the way, brows lost in his hairline. The woman went from sounding like she wanted to turn his brother over her knee to talking to him like he was made of glass. Baby? Who is this woman to call his brother Baby?
Missouri turned a well-timed glare on him that had his eyes widening and he took another step back. Rand's hand on his shoulder blocked further retreat. "That's Missouri," he informed Sam. "She comes through twice a year on her way to see her sister or aunt or someone… She broke down out on route 26 a few years ago and had to get towed in for some repairs. Took quite the shine to Dean. Been coming back ever since."
Sam watched as Dean returned the hug and the two chatted away like long lost friends, until he caught sight of Sam and Rand and suddenly realized he'd not made introductions. Missouri followed his gaze.
"Good to see you, Rand. How's that wife of yours doing? Did she ever get that promotion?" Missouri took the couple of steps that brought her to Sam and Rand, firing off questions quicker than Rand could answer. Inevitably, her gaze settled on Sam.
"And who is this?" she asked, continuing before anyone could answer. Missouri took in the three of them and tsked, her frank gaze sliding head to toe. "My, my, my but the three of you are handsome devils, mmm, hmmm, I’ll bet you get your fair share of female clientele here, don’tcha, Darlin’?” she tossed a look back over her shoulder at Dean and then proceeded to check Sam out in fine order. “Can't say as I blame 'em either." Dean seemed pretty immune to Missouri's rambling and just waited for an opening. "Dean sweetie, you going to introduce me to this young man or not?"
He decided to get both introductions out of the way at once. "Missouri Mosely meet Sam Winchester." Sam was about to extend his hand when the bell above the door in the office signaled a customer.
“I’ve got it,” Rand said with a hand to Dean’s shoulder as he passed.
"I'll let Liv know you're here,” Dean said to Missouri before turning off the GTO and disappearing upstairs.
Sam watched him go before his gaze was drawn back to the woman before him. His small smile disappeared at the somber look on her face. “Ah,” Sam was uncomfortable under such intense scrutiny. He pushed past it, extending his hand, “pleasure to meet you ma’am.”
His discomfort increased when she just looked at him. “Ah,” Sam withdrew his hand and scratched the back of his neck. Rand’s voice was low in the office as he explained a work order to the customer picking up his vehicle.
“What in hell do you think you’re doing, Sam Winchester?” Missouri finally asked, her voice pitched low.
Sam blinked, dumfounded.
"Did you or did you not tell your Daddy you would keep in touch with him?" She glared at him. "He hasn't heard from you in almost a month."
Sam was speechless. "Well?" She looked irritated. "Speak up."
"Ah..."
"You have no idea what you're doing, do you?" Missouri's words were more statement than question.
It was sneaking up on him slowly, but he was getting irritated himself. "How do you know my father?"
"That's a story for another time, Sugar. We haven't got time for that now..." When she would have continued, Sam firmly interrupted.
"Make time." Sam's voice was low, urgent. "Who are you? How do you know my family?"
Missouri reassessed him coolly but with a new measure of respect. Apparently it only went so far. "I used to change your diapers, young man. Don't you take that tone with me."
"Sorry,” he conceded, sensing correctly he would get nowhere with this woman without adhering to proper manners. "Tell me, please."
"Sam,” Her voice lost the chill. "This really isn't the time. You're gonna have to ask your daddy to fill you in. I'm more concerned about that brother of yours right now."
"Dean?" Sam asked surprised. "Why? What do you mean?"
Missouri rolled her eyes. "I know you're playing with fire, Sam Winchester. That boy has been through hell and back and doesn't need you messing with his head. There's no telling what kind of damage will come of this."
Sam took care to keep his tone even. "Look, I appreciate your concern and I can tell you care about my brother, but this is really none of your business. I know what I'm doing."
Missouri looked at him for a long moment. "Well, aren't you just a chip off the old block."
Sam wasn't sure if that was an insult or not; he suspected it was. Was it too much to ask for just a little support? He knew he was doing the right thing. He could feel it in his heart. Some of the helplessness he felt bled into his voice. "I love my brother. I just want to be a part of his life."
"I know you do, Sugar,” Missouri said. "And as careful as I know you're trying to be with him, you're still forcing the issue. Dean may never be ready to face that part of his life again."
"If that's the case, then I'll deal with it." He added with finality, "I'm not going anywhere."
She wasn't happy about it, but Missouri seemed to accept that nothing she said was going to change his mind. "I know he doesn't look it, but he's still very fragile, Sam." She looked deep into his eyes. "He really loved her."
He loved me like that once, too. "I know he did."
"We're going to run out of time here, sweetie." Missouri touched his arm, and something in her voice drew his gaze. "He still loves you, Sam." Her tone was knowing, blessedly understanding, so much so that he completely missed just how intuitive to his thoughts this woman was. "You just keep following your heart. It may take time, but I have a feeling things will work out for the best."
While grateful, Sam was incredulous at the change in her attitude.
"What? I told your daddy I would try and I did,” Missouri said matter-of-factly. "That man's as stubborn as the day is long. Thinks his way is the only way." When she shook her head in true exasperation, it finally sunk in just how well this woman knew his father.
When he would have agreed, she cut him off. "I know it isn't always obvious, but he loves you boys. He's worried, Sam." Dean and Liv were descending the stairs behind them. Missouri dropped her chin and gave him a hard stare. "You call your daddy, you hear?"
"Missouri,” Liv welcomed warmly, giving the woman a brief hug. "How was your trip?"
Sam schooled his expression when Dean gave him a searching look, eyebrows rising in question. You okay?
He smiled and played it off as best he could. The few moments he'd spent with Missouri had both unsettled him and bolstered his determination that he was doing the right thing.
"I've got my cell if you need me,” Liv said as she and Missouri headed out for an afternoon of lunch and shopping.
They were almost out the door when Missouri suddenly paused. "Oh." She turned to address them. "Dean, sweetie, did you ever call that old friend of mine I told you about?"
Dean had to think about it before the light finally went on. "Oh, yeah....ah...." It took him a minute to grasp the actual name. "Singer's Salvage. Yeah, I actually meant to thank you for that contact,” he said a bit sheepishly. "Bobby, he's quite the character."
Missouri pointedly did not look at Sam. "He's a good man, Bobby Singer. He get you that part you were looking for?"
"He did," Dean responded. "And a few others since. If he can't find it, I'm not sure it exists."
Missouri smiled, sparing Sam a glance filled with shared secrets. "You give that baby girl of yours a kiss for me, you hear?"
Dean gave a nod and a wave to them both as he went back to work. "Enjoy yourselves, ladies."
Sam and Rand were an hour into the tune-up on Missouri's car when Dean slammed the hood down on the GTO and joined them. "I don't know about you two, but I’m starving. Let's eat."
Sam had been listening to Rand's stomach growl for the last twenty minutes. His wasn't faring much better.
"Sounds good."
They had all just washed their hands when Dean's cell went off. Sam watched as his brow furrowed at the number.
"Yeah, Chloe, what's up? Everything okay?"
Sam and Rand paused, listening to the conversation.
"How high?"
Dean nodded, his concern noticeably increasing.
"I’m on my way," Dean said decisively. "Can you have her ready for me?" He listened for a few more seconds. "Yeah, I’ll call Dr.Ketner’s office on the way.” Another pause. “Thanks.”
“Everything okay?” Sam asked as Dean slid his cell back into his pocket.
“Izzy B’s got a fever. Chloe thinks she may have an ear infection.”
“Ouch,” Sam said. He’d been prone to them as a child and remembered how painful they could be.
“Yeah. We’re gonna have to hit the pediatrician to see if she needs antibiotics.” Dean was already edging towards the exit and the Impala.
“Want me to call Liv?” Rand asked.
“No. I’ll give her a call later,” Dean said, then ordered on his way out, “Go to lunch!”
“Hey, Dean,” Sam called after him. “Let me know….if, you know, like need…anything. Anything at all.” He hated it when he stumbled over his words, but it was his sincerity that he most wanted to convey.
Dean paused long enough to give him a look and a slight nod. “Yeah, sure.” Grateful, he replied, “Thanks.”
Part VIII