In the Belly of the Whale 2/3
Previous
Chapter 2
Muted
Morning arrived with Henry jerking awake, sitting up in an unfamiliar room, his skin tingling with the aftermath of the nightmares.
He was still trying to catch his breath when he heard a knock and Tricia poked her head into the room. “Papa Henry? You all right?”
“... T... Tricia?”
With a concerned look, Tricia opened the door further and came in. “Hi. I was just coming to tell you that breakfast is ready.”
“Right... breakfast....” He scrubbed a hand over his face and stood up.
“D-do you need anything?”
“I’ll be down in a few minutes.”
She nodded. “Okay. Take your time; I have the day off.”
“Thanks.” He watched her go, then pulled on his clothing and opened his palm to make the sigil that would return him to 1958-only to watch, wide-eyed, as the cut closed.
“Oh, no, you don’t,” said Bill Cooper.
He spun. “Christo!”
“That would be my boss.”
He took a deep breath. “I need to get back.”
“No.”
“Look, I can stop all-”
Cooper snapped his fingers, and Henry’s voice cut out. “No. You. Can’t. You don’t even have the right idea of when Abaddon grabbed Josie. And even if you did, too many of the players who are invested in this destiny scam are still alive and able to stop you in a heartbeat.”
Henry slumped. ‘I just... want to help,’ he mouthed.
Cooper chuckled fondly. “Winchesters.” And he vanished.
Henry tested his voice and then sighed, finding it not working. He headed downstairs, head low.
“Hey,” Sam said brightly as Henry reached the bottom of the stairs.
Henry just looked at him.
“Pancakes okay for breakfast?”
Henry nodded.
Sam frowned a little. “You okay?”
Henry licked his lips. Knowing his grandson knew ASL, he raised his hands. I cannot speak.
Sam’s frown deepened. “O-kay. Well, at least you can sign.”
He nodded. Cooper did it.
Sam snorted. Figures. I talk to him. Think you can eat?
Henry nodded and followed his grandson-good night, his grandson! a grown man, a father, taller than he!-to the kitchen. Tricia was loading plates with pancakes, Mary half-hiding behind her leg. Henry spared a smile at them and sat down.
How you take coffee? Sam signed to him.
Black, thank you.
Sam nodded and poured him a large mug. “Runs in the family, I guess,” he said aloud, since his hands were full. “You, Dad, Dean.”
Henry shrugged.
“You sleep okay?”
He shrugged again, looking at his hands.
Sam set the coffee in front of him and sat down across from him. “It’s a lot. I get it.”
Henry looked up at him and sighed.
“It can’t be easy, having to live with those memories, and then having to adjust to... all this on top of it. I get it, I do. I just... want you to know we’re here for you.”
A smile was Henry’s answer. He nodded.
“Listen, why don’t you let Trish give you the grand tour today? You don’t have to stop in and see Dad or Daphne, or even me and Dean, unless you really want to. But maybe you should take a look at what we’ve built here in Cazadore, meet people, hear stories. It might... I dunno, give you some perspective.”
After a moment, Henry gave a slow nod.
“Pancakes!” Tricia sang out then and brought two plates to the table, setting one in front of Henry and the other in front of Sam.
Henry smiled at Mary and tapped his knee in invitation. Hesitantly, she crawled up in his lap. He hugged her and held her loosely but steadily while he ate, feeding her a few bites. When he was finished, she leaned her head against his shoulder. He lowered his cheek to her hair and just rested for a minute, soaking up the innocent affection of a child.
Sam smiled as he watched them, then cleared his throat and stood. “I’d better go finish getting ready. Starting the World War I unit today in European History; should make for some interesting discussions.”
Tricia snorted. “I know, right? Just don’t act out the blinded Hitler again. One bruised forehead from you walking into a wall blindfolded was enough.”
“Hey, it made the kids laugh, which meant they remembered it, which was the whole point.” He kissed her. Then he looked back at Henry. “You know, we’ll be getting to the Depression here in a few weeks, if you want to come give a guest lecture.”
He pointed at his throat.
“Ah, I’ll get Bill to give it back by then.”
Henry’s expression was sheer relief.
“You know he’s a Trickster, right? If he left you on mute, there’s something he wants you to learn from it.”
What? he signed.
Sam shrugged. “Beats me. Guess you’ll have to find out for yourself.”
Henry nodded and stood up, picking Mary up as he did so.
Tricia stood as well. “Why don’t I run next door and see if Dean has anything you can borrow for the day?”
A final nod.
With that, Sam jogged back up the stairs while Tricia cleared the plates and then went through the same door Dean and Daphne had left through the night before, leaving Henry alone with his... his great-granddaughter.
He just looked at her. How do you talk to a two-year-old?
She looked at him for a moment, then squirmed to get down. Once he’d set her on her feet, however, she took his hand and pulled him over to the couch, then toddled over to the TV. This he could do.
Until she came back handed him a stick with buttons on it.
He frowned down at it. She crawled up beside him and pointed to one red button. He pressed it and jerked in surprise when the TV turned on with a flurry of noise and light.
“D,” she said and pointed to another button.
He pressed it. There was a quiet whirring noise from somewhere, and the picture on the screen changed-to animated figures that looked like green onions bouncing up and down singing, “Bungee, bungee, fungee-wungee-wungee, here we go, bungee, come on!”
“Ip,” said Mary, pointing to another button with two arrows on it.
He pressed it and waited.
JONAH: A VeggieTales Movie, announced the next screen to come up, over a swashbuckling theme that would fit an Errol Flynn movie and an animated galleon bounding over the waves toward the viewer. As it sailed and pushed the title off the screen, however, the camera zoomed in to show party lights strung between the masts and a ratty easy chair stationed behind the wheel.
He frowned, but Mary climbed up beside him and it seemed like this was what she wanted to watch... so he settled in and, after a moment’s searching, found how to activate the “Play Movie” command.
And he really didn’t know what to think when the opening titles gave way to a bus full of vegetables driving through the night while everyone but the driver-a tomato-sang a song about “Billy Joe McGuffrey was a really clumsy kid....”
By the time the “poking or non-poking” joke rolled around, however, he was starting to chuckle at the silliness, and Mary seemed more delighted to watch his reactions than the movie. He got the sense that the movie aimed to teach a lesson about compassion, especially when Junior Asparagus found it mysteriously listed in the menu of a seafood restaurant. About the time Jonah arrived in a flashback and kicked the movie into higher gear with “A Message from the Lord,” however, Henry got the idea that Mary hadn’t wanted to watch this for the moral of the story. She was trying to cheer him up.
He hugged her one-armed, wondering how a child so young was so perceptive.
Just about the time he was laughing silently but helplessly at “There’s nothin’ like a crrruuuuise to get the sand ou’ o’ yer wickets, aye?” Tricia finally returned.
He waved helplessly at the movie.
“Oh, wait and watch it again once you’re more caught up on the stuff it’s referring to,” she chuckled. “We all love VeggieTales.”
He laughed again, then nodded at the bundle in her hands and raised his eyebrows.
“I’ll go set these on your bed. There’s no rush.”
He nodded and turned his attention back to the movie, looking away again only to wave goodbye to Sam as he left. But between the comfort of the humor and the comfort of Mary snuggling beside him, Henry fell asleep in the middle of Jonah, Khalil, and the Pirates Who Don’t Do Anything playing Go Fish to determine who was at fault for the storm.
He woke with a start when he felt Mary being lifted from his arms. ‘... no, she’s fine....’ he mouthed, forgetting that his voice was still gone.
“She needs a diaper change,” Tricia replied quietly. “I didn’t mean to wake you, though, Papa Henry.”
Just Henry, he signed, leaning back into the couch. We almost same age.
“You’re still Papa John’s father.”
He smiled and then realized his own bladder was shouting for attention. He groaned as he stood and followed his... granddaughter, good Lord above... her instructions to the water closet. By the time he'd attended to biological necessity, he was wide awake. So after collecting his borrowed clothes, he followed Tricia's instructions to the guest bathroom, showered, shaved, and got as ready as he could to face the day.
He was combing his hair when he suddenly saw Dean standing behind him. He hadn't even heard the door open.
When he turned around, however, he realized that this wasn’t Dean. His hair was platinum blond, for one thing, and his eyes were blue. Henry knew he’d seen this guy before, but he was having trouble putting a name with the face.
“I came to see how you were faring,” the gentle voice of an angel said, and the name Michael flared into Henry's mind.
Henry tried to think of an answer past the way his heart was pounding. Okay, I think, he finally signed.
“Ah, I see my baby brother silenced you.”
Henry nodded sheepishly.
“Why?”
I want to go back, to fix everything.
“Not possible.”
Henry's mouth fell open. But-
“Release your mind of that want and just enjoy your life here with your family. What is done has been done. Leave it.”
But it wasn’t supposed to be this way.
“I know. But this is the way it is. To kick against the goads will only cause you more pain.”
Henry sighed, his shoulders slumping.
Michael put his hand on the bowed shoulder. “Know that the only one who blames you is yourself.” And then he was gone.
And John, Henry thought morosely as he turned back to the mirror.
All too soon, it was time to leave. Tricia decided they should leave early enough for her to give him a quick tour of the town before lunch, pointing out the high school where Sam and Dean taught, the library where Daphne worked, the jewelry shop that sold protective charms, the gun shop that sold specialty ammunition to hunters, the feed store that always stocked extra rock salt and salt-packed shotgun shells.
The whole town helps hunters? Henry signed. But everyone is so nice....
“Well, of course. We’re Texans.” Tricia waved to a woman who wore an anti-possession charm that stood out against her dark turtleneck.
She waved back.
Henry sighed. So much I need to learn.
Tricia smiled at him as she pulled into the parking lot of a diner. “Give it time. You’ll get there. By the way, I’d already promised Daphne I’d bring Mary to have lunch with her and Michelle, but Sam and Dean are planning to meet you here at Maggie’s.” She pulled to a stop in front of the door.
He nodded, climbed out, and watched her go, returning Mary's wave. It was a little too chilly to wait outside, though, so he went inside.
But before he even had a chance to look for the boys, the waitress said, “You must be our visiting Winchester!”
He cracked a slight smile.
“Dean told me to watch for you. They’re not here yet, but I can go ahead and seat you at their regular table.”
He nodded and followed her to a booth, where she left him with a menu and a glass of water. A few moments later, he saw Dean’s powerful black car drive up, and the boys came in with Cooper, laughing and talking. The waitress took their orders before they’d even passed the counter but waited to take Henry’s until she brought the others their drinks. Dean covered for him by saying he had laryngitis, and he opted to order by pointing to what he wanted (a short stack of blueberry pancakes-good as the diner food smelled, his stomach was still in as much turmoil as his emotions were). His companions more than made up for his silence, however, exchanging stories of crazy things their students had been doing that day.
“C’mon, man,” Sam pleaded with Cooper toward the end of the meal. “Give his voice back.”
“Not yet,” Cooper answered. “He’s got a lot of listening to do first.”
“Listening?” Sam frowned. “To what?”
“People here in town. Your dad, for one. And really, just about anyone who’ll shake up some of the things the Men of Letters drilled into him that are... ahhh, short-sighted?”
Henry glared, frowning. What did he mean?
Cooper continued, “He especially needs to get over this notion that he can fix anything by going back to ’58-’cause that kind of fix would also fix stuff that’s not broken.”
“Like what?” Sam asked.
“My family.”
Sam’s eyes lit with comprehension. “I understand.”
Henry frowned deeper.
Sam turned to him and said, “We’re good now. We built a good life. You don’t need to go change any of it.”
Henry raised his hands to object, but Dean held up one of his to cut him off. “Seriously. And not just ours. This town’s totally different now than it was before we moved here. Now, you can get hung up on the bad stuff and say it wasn’t supposed to happen like this, but we matter to these people.”
Sam nodded. “And they matter to us.”
“You can say that again,” said the waitress, Garnet, returning with pie.
Dean smiled at her.
“Can I get y’all anything else? More coffee or anything?”
“Yes, please,” Dean smiled.
“Sam?”
“No, I’m good, thanks.”
“And for you, sir?” she asked Henry.
He hesitated, then pointed at his mostly-gone pancake.
“More pancakes? Syrup?” She paused. “You can sign if you need.”
His eyes widened. A pancake, please.
She nodded. “Just one?”
He nodded.
She nodded back, then looked at Cooper with a teasing twinkle in her eye. “And you want the extra sour lemonade, right?”
“Evil woman,” he teased back.
She laughed. “Sweet tea refill, coming up.”
Cooper laughed softly as she walked away.
Sam nodded after her. “There’s one story that would be a lot worse if we’d grown up in Illinois.”
Henry frowned.
“Well, in a couple of ways,” Dean added. “Former student of mine. That’s how she knows Sign.”
Henry smiled. I need to know more about this time.
Sam did most of the talking, since Dean was busy scarfing down the daily pie special (Maggie’s famous Bayou Mud Pie), but they explained more about how times had changed, especially in Cazadore. Too soon, though, Sam looked at his watch and declared that he and Dean needed to get back to the high school. Henry nodded, hugging them as they left.
On their way out, however, they passed and exchanged greetings with Carol Cooper, who was just coming in. Henry’s eyebrows rose when he saw her. Michael had called her something else, but he couldn’t remember what it was now.
She put in an order at the counter, then came straight to the Winchesters’ table. “Up to your old tricks again?” she asked Cooper pointedly. When Cooper opened his mouth to play innocent, she scoffed and sat down. “I mean that band around his throat. Don’t think I didn’t notice.”
“He needed to listen, not argue.”
“You’re pathetic,” she said fondly.
“And you love me.”
Henry rolled his eyes.
Then she turned those unsettling dark eyes of hers to him. “Henry. I have a proposal for you.”
He tilted his head.
“I have been... curious about the Men of Letters for many years now. Suppose, when you have learned all that Bill has to teach you for the moment, I help you find what you’re looking for.”
Henry gasped.
“I ask only to be allowed free access to whatever scholarly resources you may find.”
He raised an eyebrow. Catch?
Her eyes flashed. “I am a goddess. I do not employ catches.”
Bill’s hand curled around her wrist, a reminder they were in public.
Henry frowned. Goddess?
She glanced around to make sure no one was watching, then manifested another arm to take Bill’s hand off her wrist.
Henry caught that motion and sucked in a breath, realizing who she was.
“I’m on your side,” she said quietly, making the extra arm disappear before anyone saw it. “Or rather, I’m on your grandsons’ side. You have nothing to fear from me.”
His chin lifted. Very well, he fingerspelled. Deal.
She smiled. “Good.”
It was probably just as well that Tricia and Mary arrived at the same time as Carol’s burger. The meat looked just a little too raw.
Henry looked at Mary and realized that this was his great-granddaughter. And if he went back to ‘make it right’-she wouldn’t be born.
“Ready to go see some more sights?” Tricia asked him.
He nods, his eyes not leaving Mary. And that was the moment he knew-beyond a doubt-he’d stay.
Mary seemed to know it, too, and held out her arms to him. “Papa?”
He smiled and picked her up.
She kissed him and put her head on his shoulder.
He rocked her and closed his eyes.
“Hey, no more naps,” Tricia teased, “or she’ll never get to sleep tonight.”
Henry laughed.
It wasn’t audible, but Mary felt it and giggled. “Go Pa!”
He shook his head. ‘Stay,’ he mouthed.
“I think she means she wants to go see Papa John at work,” said Tricia.
Henry nodded and looked back at Cooper. He pointed at his own throat.
Cooper’s smile was kind, but he shook his head. “Not yet, kiddo. You’re on the right track, but go see John first. Then we’ll see.”
He nodded and left with Mary in his arms. He knew he was beginning to understand this town-and his family.
Henry walked into Mercer’s and saw John bent over a car, singing along, not particularly tunefully, to the song blaring on the radio-something about “playin’ in a travelin’ band.”
“Papa John?” Tricia called.
John stood up and smiled. “Tricia, hey.”
Tricia smiled back. “Brought someone to see you.” Then she signed something Henry didn’t catch because Mary was squirming in his arms, wanting down.
John nodded and wiped his hands. “Pops.”
Henry nodded once, but even if he had been able to say anything, it would have been drowned by Mary’s squeal of “PAAA!”
“Mary!” John held out one arm for her, crouching.
Henry set her down, and she ran to John, squealing with delight as he scooped her up in a hug.
“Hey, sweetie,” he kissed her forehead.
Mary babbled something in which “Pa” and “Papa” featured prominently and ended with “YAY!”
“Say it again, honey, slower?” John laughed.
While Mary was trying again, an older man came out of the office. “Tricia! This is a surprise!” he said.
“Mr. Mercer,” she smiled.
“Who’s your friend?”
“This is John’s-” she began.
But John interrupted. “This is my father.”
Mr. Mercer’s eyebrows shot up. “Your father? He looks like he’s the boys’ age!”
“You know our world,” John said. “He fell through time.”
“Just when you think you’ve seen it all.” Mr. Mercer offered Henry his hand. “Tony Mercer.”
Henry shook hands quickly and signed, Henry Winchester. If it would make it easier... I could pretend to be their cousin...
“It might. Especially if you intend to stay. Folks around here have seen their share of weird, but at least Samuel Campbell looked old enough to be John’s brother when he came back from the dead.”
He nodded and grinned. Cousin Hank, at your service.
John groaned. “Pops, you couldn’t pass as a Hank down here to save your life. Hank Williams, Hank the Cowdog-but Hank Winchester?”
Mary giggled.
Sure, why not?
“It’s a redneck name. You’re anything but.” John paused. “H-i-it’s a hunter’s name.”
Henry’s shoulders stiffened.
Mercer looked from father to son and back. “I... take it you’re not a hunter, then?”
Tricia snorted. “He thinks hunters basically are rednecks.”
Henry would later swear the temperature dropped five degrees.
“Let me tell you something, Mr. Winchester,” Mercer said, eyes narrowed. “What your son and grandsons do has saved this town more than once. We’ve returned the favor more than once. And you can believe we’ll do it again.”
Henry nodded automatically.
“I don’t think you quite understood me. We’ve protected the boys from John.”
Henry frowned and looked at his son.
John nodded. “It’s true. All but ran me out of town when I came down to try to get them to go back on the road with me. Probably would have run me out when I came back for the wedding if Dean hadn’t killed the demon I was after before I got here.”
John... why?
“I had my head on backward. Got so hung up on avenging my wife that I couldn’t see what I was doing to my sons. Wasn’t until the demon was dead that I could start to see things clearly.”
Mary whined and laid her head on his shoulder.
“I’d... I’d messed up a lot. Forgot a lot of the things that were important.” John looked at Tricia and smiled a little. “But now that I’m stuck here... the kids have helped me remember. Can’t fix the past, but we’ve made the present a whole lot better.”
Mary patted his stubbled cheek and muttered, “...ave.”
He looked at her. “What’s that, bug? You don’t think Grandpa needs a beard?”
“Atch.”
He teased her by rubbing his cheek against hers.
“NO!”
John laughed. “All right, all right, I’ll shave. Just for you.”
She smiled at him.
“We’re glad he’s here-now,” Mercer said. “But he had to make the choice to change, to put his family first. Even if it meant hanging up his spurs and accepting house arrest.”
Oh, John.... Henry sighed.
“The boys and I are okay,” John stated, a hard edge coming into his voice. “The jury’s still out on you.”
Mary leaned against him again, as if the toddler was lending him her strength.
Henry gulped as he finally realized just what Mercer had been trying to say. Just staying in this year wasn’t going to be enough. He needed to make amends with John and his family... or risk being considered an enemy by the entire town.
How? he asked, turning to Mercer.
Mercer blinked, startled. “How what?”
How I make amends?
Mercer shook his head. “I don’t know enough about you, son-sir. You’ll have to figure it out for yourself.”
Henry sighed. Then he looked at John and opened his mouth without thinking. “John, I-” He broke off in shock.
His voice had come back.
John frowned. “What?”
Henry took a deep breath. “I’m... I’m sorry for disappearing all those years ago. I meant to come home. But now-I-I can’t go back. And I want to stay and make it right, but... I don’t know how.”
John sighed. “Well, for one thing, you can stop acting like this Men of Letters thing is more important than we are.”
“I.... I was taught that it was. You were supposed to have been one. We were the elite, the-” His eyes widened. “We were in our ivory towers. And that was our downfall.”
Tricia cleared her throat. “You know... Papa John kind of is a Man of Letters now, if I’m understanding you right. Now that he can’t hunt, he does all our research.”
Henry smiled. “It’s in your blood.”
John ducked his head a little, but Tricia continued, “What I mean is, maybe whatever this thing is that you’re supposed to protect is something you could bring back here, and-I dunno, maybe you and Papa John can work together.”
Henry’s smile grew. “I’d like that.”
John looked at Mary, clearly hesitant.
She patted his cheek and nodded.
John sighed. “Maybe. Guess it depends on what you find.”
“All right.”
Then John looked at Mary again. “Okay, baby girl, Grandpa’s gotta go back to work now.”
She hugged him and sighed, reluctantly letting him go.
When he set her down, Henry held out his hand to her, and she toddled over and took it. Then Henry looked at John again. “Carol Cooper has offered to help me find what I’m looking for. I suppose I’ll need to get some clothes and things of my own first, but....”
“Trust her,” John interrupted. “She can do it.”
Henry blinked. “You... you trust her?”
“She saved my boys’ lives.”
Henry tried to say something, but all that came out was, “Oh.”
John smiled.
Henry took a deep breath and let it out again. “Well. I guess we ought to let you get back to work. Nice to meet you, Mr. Mercer.”
“Likewise,” Mercer nodded, more cordially.
Next
Chapter 2
Muted
Morning arrived with Henry jerking awake, sitting up in an unfamiliar room, his skin tingling with the aftermath of the nightmares.
He was still trying to catch his breath when he heard a knock and Tricia poked her head into the room. “Papa Henry? You all right?”
“... T... Tricia?”
With a concerned look, Tricia opened the door further and came in. “Hi. I was just coming to tell you that breakfast is ready.”
“Right... breakfast....” He scrubbed a hand over his face and stood up.
“D-do you need anything?”
“I’ll be down in a few minutes.”
She nodded. “Okay. Take your time; I have the day off.”
“Thanks.” He watched her go, then pulled on his clothing and opened his palm to make the sigil that would return him to 1958-only to watch, wide-eyed, as the cut closed.
“Oh, no, you don’t,” said Bill Cooper.
He spun. “Christo!”
“That would be my boss.”
He took a deep breath. “I need to get back.”
“No.”
“Look, I can stop all-”
Cooper snapped his fingers, and Henry’s voice cut out. “No. You. Can’t. You don’t even have the right idea of when Abaddon grabbed Josie. And even if you did, too many of the players who are invested in this destiny scam are still alive and able to stop you in a heartbeat.”
Henry slumped. ‘I just... want to help,’ he mouthed.
Cooper chuckled fondly. “Winchesters.” And he vanished.
Henry tested his voice and then sighed, finding it not working. He headed downstairs, head low.
“Hey,” Sam said brightly as Henry reached the bottom of the stairs.
Henry just looked at him.
“Pancakes okay for breakfast?”
Henry nodded.
Sam frowned a little. “You okay?”
Henry licked his lips. Knowing his grandson knew ASL, he raised his hands. I cannot speak.
Sam’s frown deepened. “O-kay. Well, at least you can sign.”
He nodded. Cooper did it.
Sam snorted. Figures. I talk to him. Think you can eat?
Henry nodded and followed his grandson-good night, his grandson! a grown man, a father, taller than he!-to the kitchen. Tricia was loading plates with pancakes, Mary half-hiding behind her leg. Henry spared a smile at them and sat down.
How you take coffee? Sam signed to him.
Black, thank you.
Sam nodded and poured him a large mug. “Runs in the family, I guess,” he said aloud, since his hands were full. “You, Dad, Dean.”
Henry shrugged.
“You sleep okay?”
He shrugged again, looking at his hands.
Sam set the coffee in front of him and sat down across from him. “It’s a lot. I get it.”
Henry looked up at him and sighed.
“It can’t be easy, having to live with those memories, and then having to adjust to... all this on top of it. I get it, I do. I just... want you to know we’re here for you.”
A smile was Henry’s answer. He nodded.
“Listen, why don’t you let Trish give you the grand tour today? You don’t have to stop in and see Dad or Daphne, or even me and Dean, unless you really want to. But maybe you should take a look at what we’ve built here in Cazadore, meet people, hear stories. It might... I dunno, give you some perspective.”
After a moment, Henry gave a slow nod.
“Pancakes!” Tricia sang out then and brought two plates to the table, setting one in front of Henry and the other in front of Sam.
Henry smiled at Mary and tapped his knee in invitation. Hesitantly, she crawled up in his lap. He hugged her and held her loosely but steadily while he ate, feeding her a few bites. When he was finished, she leaned her head against his shoulder. He lowered his cheek to her hair and just rested for a minute, soaking up the innocent affection of a child.
Sam smiled as he watched them, then cleared his throat and stood. “I’d better go finish getting ready. Starting the World War I unit today in European History; should make for some interesting discussions.”
Tricia snorted. “I know, right? Just don’t act out the blinded Hitler again. One bruised forehead from you walking into a wall blindfolded was enough.”
“Hey, it made the kids laugh, which meant they remembered it, which was the whole point.” He kissed her. Then he looked back at Henry. “You know, we’ll be getting to the Depression here in a few weeks, if you want to come give a guest lecture.”
He pointed at his throat.
“Ah, I’ll get Bill to give it back by then.”
Henry’s expression was sheer relief.
“You know he’s a Trickster, right? If he left you on mute, there’s something he wants you to learn from it.”
What? he signed.
Sam shrugged. “Beats me. Guess you’ll have to find out for yourself.”
Henry nodded and stood up, picking Mary up as he did so.
Tricia stood as well. “Why don’t I run next door and see if Dean has anything you can borrow for the day?”
A final nod.
With that, Sam jogged back up the stairs while Tricia cleared the plates and then went through the same door Dean and Daphne had left through the night before, leaving Henry alone with his... his great-granddaughter.
He just looked at her. How do you talk to a two-year-old?
She looked at him for a moment, then squirmed to get down. Once he’d set her on her feet, however, she took his hand and pulled him over to the couch, then toddled over to the TV. This he could do.
Until she came back handed him a stick with buttons on it.
He frowned down at it. She crawled up beside him and pointed to one red button. He pressed it and jerked in surprise when the TV turned on with a flurry of noise and light.
“D,” she said and pointed to another button.
He pressed it. There was a quiet whirring noise from somewhere, and the picture on the screen changed-to animated figures that looked like green onions bouncing up and down singing, “Bungee, bungee, fungee-wungee-wungee, here we go, bungee, come on!”
“Ip,” said Mary, pointing to another button with two arrows on it.
He pressed it and waited.
JONAH: A VeggieTales Movie, announced the next screen to come up, over a swashbuckling theme that would fit an Errol Flynn movie and an animated galleon bounding over the waves toward the viewer. As it sailed and pushed the title off the screen, however, the camera zoomed in to show party lights strung between the masts and a ratty easy chair stationed behind the wheel.
He frowned, but Mary climbed up beside him and it seemed like this was what she wanted to watch... so he settled in and, after a moment’s searching, found how to activate the “Play Movie” command.
And he really didn’t know what to think when the opening titles gave way to a bus full of vegetables driving through the night while everyone but the driver-a tomato-sang a song about “Billy Joe McGuffrey was a really clumsy kid....”
By the time the “poking or non-poking” joke rolled around, however, he was starting to chuckle at the silliness, and Mary seemed more delighted to watch his reactions than the movie. He got the sense that the movie aimed to teach a lesson about compassion, especially when Junior Asparagus found it mysteriously listed in the menu of a seafood restaurant. About the time Jonah arrived in a flashback and kicked the movie into higher gear with “A Message from the Lord,” however, Henry got the idea that Mary hadn’t wanted to watch this for the moral of the story. She was trying to cheer him up.
He hugged her one-armed, wondering how a child so young was so perceptive.
Just about the time he was laughing silently but helplessly at “There’s nothin’ like a crrruuuuise to get the sand ou’ o’ yer wickets, aye?” Tricia finally returned.
He waved helplessly at the movie.
“Oh, wait and watch it again once you’re more caught up on the stuff it’s referring to,” she chuckled. “We all love VeggieTales.”
He laughed again, then nodded at the bundle in her hands and raised his eyebrows.
“I’ll go set these on your bed. There’s no rush.”
He nodded and turned his attention back to the movie, looking away again only to wave goodbye to Sam as he left. But between the comfort of the humor and the comfort of Mary snuggling beside him, Henry fell asleep in the middle of Jonah, Khalil, and the Pirates Who Don’t Do Anything playing Go Fish to determine who was at fault for the storm.
He woke with a start when he felt Mary being lifted from his arms. ‘... no, she’s fine....’ he mouthed, forgetting that his voice was still gone.
“She needs a diaper change,” Tricia replied quietly. “I didn’t mean to wake you, though, Papa Henry.”
Just Henry, he signed, leaning back into the couch. We almost same age.
“You’re still Papa John’s father.”
He smiled and then realized his own bladder was shouting for attention. He groaned as he stood and followed his... granddaughter, good Lord above... her instructions to the water closet. By the time he'd attended to biological necessity, he was wide awake. So after collecting his borrowed clothes, he followed Tricia's instructions to the guest bathroom, showered, shaved, and got as ready as he could to face the day.
He was combing his hair when he suddenly saw Dean standing behind him. He hadn't even heard the door open.
When he turned around, however, he realized that this wasn’t Dean. His hair was platinum blond, for one thing, and his eyes were blue. Henry knew he’d seen this guy before, but he was having trouble putting a name with the face.
“I came to see how you were faring,” the gentle voice of an angel said, and the name Michael flared into Henry's mind.
Henry tried to think of an answer past the way his heart was pounding. Okay, I think, he finally signed.
“Ah, I see my baby brother silenced you.”
Henry nodded sheepishly.
“Why?”
I want to go back, to fix everything.
“Not possible.”
Henry's mouth fell open. But-
“Release your mind of that want and just enjoy your life here with your family. What is done has been done. Leave it.”
But it wasn’t supposed to be this way.
“I know. But this is the way it is. To kick against the goads will only cause you more pain.”
Henry sighed, his shoulders slumping.
Michael put his hand on the bowed shoulder. “Know that the only one who blames you is yourself.” And then he was gone.
And John, Henry thought morosely as he turned back to the mirror.
All too soon, it was time to leave. Tricia decided they should leave early enough for her to give him a quick tour of the town before lunch, pointing out the high school where Sam and Dean taught, the library where Daphne worked, the jewelry shop that sold protective charms, the gun shop that sold specialty ammunition to hunters, the feed store that always stocked extra rock salt and salt-packed shotgun shells.
The whole town helps hunters? Henry signed. But everyone is so nice....
“Well, of course. We’re Texans.” Tricia waved to a woman who wore an anti-possession charm that stood out against her dark turtleneck.
She waved back.
Henry sighed. So much I need to learn.
Tricia smiled at him as she pulled into the parking lot of a diner. “Give it time. You’ll get there. By the way, I’d already promised Daphne I’d bring Mary to have lunch with her and Michelle, but Sam and Dean are planning to meet you here at Maggie’s.” She pulled to a stop in front of the door.
He nodded, climbed out, and watched her go, returning Mary's wave. It was a little too chilly to wait outside, though, so he went inside.
But before he even had a chance to look for the boys, the waitress said, “You must be our visiting Winchester!”
He cracked a slight smile.
“Dean told me to watch for you. They’re not here yet, but I can go ahead and seat you at their regular table.”
He nodded and followed her to a booth, where she left him with a menu and a glass of water. A few moments later, he saw Dean’s powerful black car drive up, and the boys came in with Cooper, laughing and talking. The waitress took their orders before they’d even passed the counter but waited to take Henry’s until she brought the others their drinks. Dean covered for him by saying he had laryngitis, and he opted to order by pointing to what he wanted (a short stack of blueberry pancakes-good as the diner food smelled, his stomach was still in as much turmoil as his emotions were). His companions more than made up for his silence, however, exchanging stories of crazy things their students had been doing that day.
“C’mon, man,” Sam pleaded with Cooper toward the end of the meal. “Give his voice back.”
“Not yet,” Cooper answered. “He’s got a lot of listening to do first.”
“Listening?” Sam frowned. “To what?”
“People here in town. Your dad, for one. And really, just about anyone who’ll shake up some of the things the Men of Letters drilled into him that are... ahhh, short-sighted?”
Henry glared, frowning. What did he mean?
Cooper continued, “He especially needs to get over this notion that he can fix anything by going back to ’58-’cause that kind of fix would also fix stuff that’s not broken.”
“Like what?” Sam asked.
“My family.”
Sam’s eyes lit with comprehension. “I understand.”
Henry frowned deeper.
Sam turned to him and said, “We’re good now. We built a good life. You don’t need to go change any of it.”
Henry raised his hands to object, but Dean held up one of his to cut him off. “Seriously. And not just ours. This town’s totally different now than it was before we moved here. Now, you can get hung up on the bad stuff and say it wasn’t supposed to happen like this, but we matter to these people.”
Sam nodded. “And they matter to us.”
“You can say that again,” said the waitress, Garnet, returning with pie.
Dean smiled at her.
“Can I get y’all anything else? More coffee or anything?”
“Yes, please,” Dean smiled.
“Sam?”
“No, I’m good, thanks.”
“And for you, sir?” she asked Henry.
He hesitated, then pointed at his mostly-gone pancake.
“More pancakes? Syrup?” She paused. “You can sign if you need.”
His eyes widened. A pancake, please.
She nodded. “Just one?”
He nodded.
She nodded back, then looked at Cooper with a teasing twinkle in her eye. “And you want the extra sour lemonade, right?”
“Evil woman,” he teased back.
She laughed. “Sweet tea refill, coming up.”
Cooper laughed softly as she walked away.
Sam nodded after her. “There’s one story that would be a lot worse if we’d grown up in Illinois.”
Henry frowned.
“Well, in a couple of ways,” Dean added. “Former student of mine. That’s how she knows Sign.”
Henry smiled. I need to know more about this time.
Sam did most of the talking, since Dean was busy scarfing down the daily pie special (Maggie’s famous Bayou Mud Pie), but they explained more about how times had changed, especially in Cazadore. Too soon, though, Sam looked at his watch and declared that he and Dean needed to get back to the high school. Henry nodded, hugging them as they left.
On their way out, however, they passed and exchanged greetings with Carol Cooper, who was just coming in. Henry’s eyebrows rose when he saw her. Michael had called her something else, but he couldn’t remember what it was now.
She put in an order at the counter, then came straight to the Winchesters’ table. “Up to your old tricks again?” she asked Cooper pointedly. When Cooper opened his mouth to play innocent, she scoffed and sat down. “I mean that band around his throat. Don’t think I didn’t notice.”
“He needed to listen, not argue.”
“You’re pathetic,” she said fondly.
“And you love me.”
Henry rolled his eyes.
Then she turned those unsettling dark eyes of hers to him. “Henry. I have a proposal for you.”
He tilted his head.
“I have been... curious about the Men of Letters for many years now. Suppose, when you have learned all that Bill has to teach you for the moment, I help you find what you’re looking for.”
Henry gasped.
“I ask only to be allowed free access to whatever scholarly resources you may find.”
He raised an eyebrow. Catch?
Her eyes flashed. “I am a goddess. I do not employ catches.”
Bill’s hand curled around her wrist, a reminder they were in public.
Henry frowned. Goddess?
She glanced around to make sure no one was watching, then manifested another arm to take Bill’s hand off her wrist.
Henry caught that motion and sucked in a breath, realizing who she was.
“I’m on your side,” she said quietly, making the extra arm disappear before anyone saw it. “Or rather, I’m on your grandsons’ side. You have nothing to fear from me.”
His chin lifted. Very well, he fingerspelled. Deal.
She smiled. “Good.”
It was probably just as well that Tricia and Mary arrived at the same time as Carol’s burger. The meat looked just a little too raw.
Henry looked at Mary and realized that this was his great-granddaughter. And if he went back to ‘make it right’-she wouldn’t be born.
“Ready to go see some more sights?” Tricia asked him.
He nods, his eyes not leaving Mary. And that was the moment he knew-beyond a doubt-he’d stay.
Mary seemed to know it, too, and held out her arms to him. “Papa?”
He smiled and picked her up.
She kissed him and put her head on his shoulder.
He rocked her and closed his eyes.
“Hey, no more naps,” Tricia teased, “or she’ll never get to sleep tonight.”
Henry laughed.
It wasn’t audible, but Mary felt it and giggled. “Go Pa!”
He shook his head. ‘Stay,’ he mouthed.
“I think she means she wants to go see Papa John at work,” said Tricia.
Henry nodded and looked back at Cooper. He pointed at his own throat.
Cooper’s smile was kind, but he shook his head. “Not yet, kiddo. You’re on the right track, but go see John first. Then we’ll see.”
He nodded and left with Mary in his arms. He knew he was beginning to understand this town-and his family.
Henry walked into Mercer’s and saw John bent over a car, singing along, not particularly tunefully, to the song blaring on the radio-something about “playin’ in a travelin’ band.”
“Papa John?” Tricia called.
John stood up and smiled. “Tricia, hey.”
Tricia smiled back. “Brought someone to see you.” Then she signed something Henry didn’t catch because Mary was squirming in his arms, wanting down.
John nodded and wiped his hands. “Pops.”
Henry nodded once, but even if he had been able to say anything, it would have been drowned by Mary’s squeal of “PAAA!”
“Mary!” John held out one arm for her, crouching.
Henry set her down, and she ran to John, squealing with delight as he scooped her up in a hug.
“Hey, sweetie,” he kissed her forehead.
Mary babbled something in which “Pa” and “Papa” featured prominently and ended with “YAY!”
“Say it again, honey, slower?” John laughed.
While Mary was trying again, an older man came out of the office. “Tricia! This is a surprise!” he said.
“Mr. Mercer,” she smiled.
“Who’s your friend?”
“This is John’s-” she began.
But John interrupted. “This is my father.”
Mr. Mercer’s eyebrows shot up. “Your father? He looks like he’s the boys’ age!”
“You know our world,” John said. “He fell through time.”
“Just when you think you’ve seen it all.” Mr. Mercer offered Henry his hand. “Tony Mercer.”
Henry shook hands quickly and signed, Henry Winchester. If it would make it easier... I could pretend to be their cousin...
“It might. Especially if you intend to stay. Folks around here have seen their share of weird, but at least Samuel Campbell looked old enough to be John’s brother when he came back from the dead.”
He nodded and grinned. Cousin Hank, at your service.
John groaned. “Pops, you couldn’t pass as a Hank down here to save your life. Hank Williams, Hank the Cowdog-but Hank Winchester?”
Mary giggled.
Sure, why not?
“It’s a redneck name. You’re anything but.” John paused. “H-i-it’s a hunter’s name.”
Henry’s shoulders stiffened.
Mercer looked from father to son and back. “I... take it you’re not a hunter, then?”
Tricia snorted. “He thinks hunters basically are rednecks.”
Henry would later swear the temperature dropped five degrees.
“Let me tell you something, Mr. Winchester,” Mercer said, eyes narrowed. “What your son and grandsons do has saved this town more than once. We’ve returned the favor more than once. And you can believe we’ll do it again.”
Henry nodded automatically.
“I don’t think you quite understood me. We’ve protected the boys from John.”
Henry frowned and looked at his son.
John nodded. “It’s true. All but ran me out of town when I came down to try to get them to go back on the road with me. Probably would have run me out when I came back for the wedding if Dean hadn’t killed the demon I was after before I got here.”
John... why?
“I had my head on backward. Got so hung up on avenging my wife that I couldn’t see what I was doing to my sons. Wasn’t until the demon was dead that I could start to see things clearly.”
Mary whined and laid her head on his shoulder.
“I’d... I’d messed up a lot. Forgot a lot of the things that were important.” John looked at Tricia and smiled a little. “But now that I’m stuck here... the kids have helped me remember. Can’t fix the past, but we’ve made the present a whole lot better.”
Mary patted his stubbled cheek and muttered, “...ave.”
He looked at her. “What’s that, bug? You don’t think Grandpa needs a beard?”
“Atch.”
He teased her by rubbing his cheek against hers.
“NO!”
John laughed. “All right, all right, I’ll shave. Just for you.”
She smiled at him.
“We’re glad he’s here-now,” Mercer said. “But he had to make the choice to change, to put his family first. Even if it meant hanging up his spurs and accepting house arrest.”
Oh, John.... Henry sighed.
“The boys and I are okay,” John stated, a hard edge coming into his voice. “The jury’s still out on you.”
Mary leaned against him again, as if the toddler was lending him her strength.
Henry gulped as he finally realized just what Mercer had been trying to say. Just staying in this year wasn’t going to be enough. He needed to make amends with John and his family... or risk being considered an enemy by the entire town.
How? he asked, turning to Mercer.
Mercer blinked, startled. “How what?”
How I make amends?
Mercer shook his head. “I don’t know enough about you, son-sir. You’ll have to figure it out for yourself.”
Henry sighed. Then he looked at John and opened his mouth without thinking. “John, I-” He broke off in shock.
His voice had come back.
John frowned. “What?”
Henry took a deep breath. “I’m... I’m sorry for disappearing all those years ago. I meant to come home. But now-I-I can’t go back. And I want to stay and make it right, but... I don’t know how.”
John sighed. “Well, for one thing, you can stop acting like this Men of Letters thing is more important than we are.”
“I.... I was taught that it was. You were supposed to have been one. We were the elite, the-” His eyes widened. “We were in our ivory towers. And that was our downfall.”
Tricia cleared her throat. “You know... Papa John kind of is a Man of Letters now, if I’m understanding you right. Now that he can’t hunt, he does all our research.”
Henry smiled. “It’s in your blood.”
John ducked his head a little, but Tricia continued, “What I mean is, maybe whatever this thing is that you’re supposed to protect is something you could bring back here, and-I dunno, maybe you and Papa John can work together.”
Henry’s smile grew. “I’d like that.”
John looked at Mary, clearly hesitant.
She patted his cheek and nodded.
John sighed. “Maybe. Guess it depends on what you find.”
“All right.”
Then John looked at Mary again. “Okay, baby girl, Grandpa’s gotta go back to work now.”
She hugged him and sighed, reluctantly letting him go.
When he set her down, Henry held out his hand to her, and she toddled over and took it. Then Henry looked at John again. “Carol Cooper has offered to help me find what I’m looking for. I suppose I’ll need to get some clothes and things of my own first, but....”
“Trust her,” John interrupted. “She can do it.”
Henry blinked. “You... you trust her?”
“She saved my boys’ lives.”
Henry tried to say something, but all that came out was, “Oh.”
John smiled.
Henry took a deep breath and let it out again. “Well. I guess we ought to let you get back to work. Nice to meet you, Mr. Mercer.”
“Likewise,” Mercer nodded, more cordially.
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