DIVINE HOPE - Featuring the Winchester Boys
(XI)
They meet up at a bar to discuss the matter.
“Are you absolutely sure you shot her, Dean?” Bobby asks.
“Absolutely positive,” Dean says.
“Did you see blood?”
“The kid was dressed in white,” Dean says. “There was plenty of blood all right. I saw the bullet blast right through her middle. She fell at my feet….”
“And the blood didn’t smell like roses this time,” Sam mutters.
“Roses?”
“When she suffers the seizures, the lacerations to her forehead, back, wrists and feet smell of roses or whatever,” Dean says.
“Weird,” Bobby says
“That’s an understatement,” Dean says.
“Perhaps…perhaps Charity had bitten her and for some reason Hope just didn’t die….”
“No, Sammy,” Dean says. “Even if that was the case that Charity had bitten Hope when she dragged the kid out of the window, Hope would still have died. Charity is strong and clever. She manifested in order for me to shoot her sister. Chasing after Charity and her companion was a fruitless exercise. I retrieved the bullet and Hope regained consciousness. The kid was screaming and obviously hurting….”
“Okay, let’s go back to the house….”
“Faith won’t allow us back in, Bobby,” Dean says.
“She might let me into the house,” Bobby says. “I have to see the wounds the bullet left. At the very least the kid will require hospitalisation after being shot, if she hasn’t already bled to death that is. I need to convince Faith that she requires our assistance, Charity failed in her mission to get Hope, she’ll try again.”
(XII)
“Faith, it’s Bobby let me in please,” Bobby shouts at the door knocking at it. They’ve been standing outside the house for twenty minutes and although there’s movement within it, the woman refuses to allow them back in.
“You and your trigger happy maniac friends are unsafe around young girls,” comes Faith’s voice. “Please leave us alone, or I’ll ring the police.”
“Look it was an accident,” Dean says.
“An accident that could’ve cost Hope her life,” screams Faith hysterically.
“I shot her by accident,” Dean insists. “Charity…or what was your daughter Charity deliberately meant your daughter harm, Faith. She’ll come back and finish the job.”
“We just need to check she’s okay,” Bobby says. “Please Faith, you contacted me because you trusted me to help you. For your daughter’s sake open this door. I don’t want to have to break it down.”
“That’s more like the Bobby I know,” Faith says sourly as she opens the door to the three men. “Sensitivity was never your strong point,” Faith adds. “Nor was understanding.” She stands in the doorway unsure whether to let any of them pass.
“Look at it this way, Faith,” Bobby says, trying to remain composed when affronted by his ex-wife. “At the very least, Hope is badly injured, in need of emergency treatment, and your other daughter, Charity, is undead.”
“You’ve been watching too many Dracula movies,” Faith says.
“You heard Charity speak, Faith I know you did,” Dean says impatiently.
“I heard something,” Faith says, “that was not the voice of Hope.”
“She manifested,” Dean says. “You saw this also.
Tears roll down Faith’s face. “I saw you firing that blasted thing at my daughter….” She’s ready to lynch Dean but Bobby restrains her.
“Listen to me, woman!” Bobby says. “You sought help, and whether you like it or not something is occurring right now that has to be investigated. We can’t turn a blind eye to one of your daughter’s returning from her grave nor the fact that the daughter who got shot is still alive….is she still alive, Faith?”
“Yes. Why? Are you going to finish her off?” The woman knows she is powerless to prevent them if they wish to do this and the thought is a terrifying one, she was intending to make a getaway in the morning, hideaway somewhere, hadn’t bargained for the brothers returning with Bobby.
Bobby smiles. “Take me to Hope. I promise we haven’t come to hurt her.”
Reluctantly Faith lets them in. She has a gun, Bobby notes and obviously intends to use it if they do anything to Hope, she might only have chance to shoot one of them before she is shot herself, but she won’t go down without a fight.
“How about one of you boys making us all some nice tea?” Bobby suggests. “I’ll go upstairs with Faith and just take a little look at Hope to see how she’s doing.”
Faith eyes them all wondering whether there’s some sort of sinister coded message in his words. There’s not. Dean flinches as he meets the hatred in Faith’s eyes. The woman turns and Bobby follows her upstairs.
They pass by the girl’s bedroom. The door is open, the shattered window plain for him to see, upon the bedroom floor the mutilated remains of Hope’s beloved pet parrot.
“I’ll have to clean up that mess shortly,” Faith says closing the bedroom door. “She’s in here.”
Faith carried her daughter to her own bedroom and laid her tenderly down. Hope appears to be sleeping peacefully, her face beautifully serene, her braided hair tucked underneath the blankets.
“I need to have a look at her,” Bobby says. “I promise I won’t hurt her.”
He pulls the blankets away before Faith has chance to say anything. Faith changed her daughter and has dressed her in pink satin pyjamas now. The girl reminds Bobby of some kind of Barbie doll what with the thick, Rapunzel length platinum braid and the pink two-piece she’s wearing. He needs to have a look at her midriff and makes to reach under her top.
“What the hell are you doing?” Faith asks moving forward protectively towards her daughter.
“I need to check the wounds,” Bobby says. “Where the bullet entered and where it exited. She could have internal injuries.”
Faith winces. “I dressed her wounds.”
“I need to look at those wounds,” Bobby says.
Sighing, Faith lifts the girl’s top herself, the girl stirs and is now in a semi-conscious state.
“Have you given her something?” Bobby asks.
“I poured some brandy down her throat, if you must know,” Faith says. “She was in pain and doesn’t drink.”
Faith holds her daughter while Bobby unwraps the bandages, Faith certainly wrapped enough on her. It seems to Bobby that Faith was perhaps laying her daughter to rest, suspecting as well that Hope wasn’t long for this world. Midriff exposed now, the girl’s torso is tiny, childlike and delicate. There is evidence of a bullet entering and exiting right through her, but the wounds are not fatal, in fact they are healing before his eyes. He blinks in bewilderment.
“Mum…?” Hope’s eyes open and she modestly seeks to cover herself. “What’s happening…?”
“Nothing dear,” Faith assures her. “Go back to sleep now.”
“How are you feeling, love?” Bobby asks.
Hope doesn’t recognise his voice. “Tipsy.”
“You’re not in pain?”
“I was shot,” Hope says. “Was it just a dream? If it wasn’t I should be dead I think.”
“Don’t say that,” Faith says.
Bobby gets up off the bed and allows the two some privacy and goes to report his findings to the brothers downstairs.
“Well you did apparently shoot her, Dean,” Bobby says. “But the wounds are healing already. My guess is that they’ll be completely closed by morning.”
Dean frowns.
“So she doesn’t even require hospital treatment?” Sam asks.
“No,” Bobby says thoughtfully. “Strange, but that kid should certainly be dead.”
“You sound disappointed that she’s not,” Faith says coldly.
“It’s a phenomenon that we haven’t come up against before,” Bobby says. “Forgive us if we’re sounding insensitive. The gun and its bullets were designed for dealing with spirits like Charity, naturally a human also shot would die. We’re baffled as to why Hope hasn’t died, but that doesn’t mean that we wished she died.”
“Think of it like this,” Dean says. “If you chop off someone’s head that person dies, it’s the same scenario really regarding The Colt, no two ways about it, you’re dead.”
“So is she immortal then?” Faith asks sarcastically.
“I don’t think that to be the case either,” Bobby says grimly.
“What other explanation can there be?” Faith asks.
“The Deity protecting her perhaps?” Bobby says.
“You mean God?” asks Faith.
“It’s beyond our scope of expertise,” Bobby says. “You’ve already been told this. Our speciality lies with malevolent spirits, not benevolent ones.”
“At least you recognise there is benevolence within her,” Faith says.
“All who are present can’t deny this,” Bobby says, he’s speaking for the brothers now, even Dean can’t deny this possibility. “Anything further would have to be confirmed by the Church.”
“They won’t acknowledge Hope has the stigmata,” Faith says then, up until now, she has been reluctant to state this fact. “Simply because she has the wounds through her wrists rather than her hands which are said to be the true of Christ’s crucifixion.”
“Even so,” Bobby says. “It is for the Church to investigate.”
“Our immediate task now,” Dean says, tired of all this mumbo jumbo regarding stigmata, he wants to press on with something he does believe in. “Is to root out Charity. For that, we require the location of her grave, please Faith. It would be a mistake to automatically assume that Hope is immune to any further assaults by Charity or to think that Charity will not pursue another avenue to kill her. Your daughter is still in danger.”
“You will tamper with Charity’s grave?” Faith. “It is sacrilegious.”
“That’s as may be,” Dean says. “But we can’t wait for a priest’s presence, sorry. Time is pressing.”
“Think about who you wish to protect now, Faith,” Bobby says. “Your dead, malevolent one or your living, benevolent one?”
“She’s buried at High Trees,” Faith says. “Here I’ll draw you a quick map…I don’t want you ripping up some other poor soul’s grave in your quest to find her.”