Hit the Road and Go
word count: 1075
rating: PG
characters/pairing: Sam, Dean, Lady Toni Bevell, references to Jody and Mary
warnings: spoilers for season 12 episode 22
summary: Driving to Sioux Falls in the rain expecting to find someone you care about dead gives you too much time to think. Missing scene from Who We Are.
A/N: Title from the Johnny Cash song of the same name, which contains the line "The windshield wiper's rhythm keeps me singin' down the pain."
also on AO3
Forty five minutes or so into the trip to Sioux Falls, just outside Hastings, it started raining.
The rhythm of the windshield wipers seemed to mock them.
she's / dead / she's / dead / she's / dead
Sam in the passenger seat burned through whatever battery they had left in whatever cell phones that worked.
He had gotten in touch with Claire, who was in Racine, and sent her to Donna. But Jody still didn't answer, and Alex didn't answer. Of course, Alex might be at school, if they were lucky.
He called the station, to find out that Jody wasn't scheduled to be in that day. Of course the police wouldn't tell some random caller if Jody was on a stakeout or working undercover or if there was a legitimate reason why she couldn't answer her phone.
Sam fired off texts and sent emails and left voice messages, warning Jody to be careful and pleading with her to make some contact, just let us know you're okay.
Sam was doing his best to hold it together, but with every passing mile without a response from Jody, his hands shook a little more as he dialed again.
Angry Spice in the back seat had the sense to keep her mouth shut, or maybe it was because Dean had threatened to gag her and put her in the trunk the first time she smarted off after they left the bunker.
Dean prayed silently, to Chuck and Amara if they were listening, to Cas if he could help, to please spare Jody. He knew all the Winchesters' favors were long ago used up, but he wasn't asking this one for himself.
He asked for Alex, and for Claire, who had been through so much in their lives and needed a mom like Jody, someone who could hold them through the nightmares and smack them upside the head when the teen angst got the better of them.
He asked for the people of Sioux Falls and the surrounding area who needed Jody to protect them.
He asked for Sam, even if he was jealous sometimes of the bond Sam had with Jody. By the same token, he knew Sam needed someone else, someone besides Dean who was a total fuck up sometimes (most of the time) and might not be there for Sam one day, other than Mom and Cas who were both apparently out of their minds currently and might not ever be there for Sam again. Jody had been there when Dean was in Purgatory, when Dean was zapped into the 1940's, when Dean was off banging a porn star in the middle of a case and got caught by the monster.
If Dean could just speak to Jody one more time, he would thank her. Thank her for everything she had done for Sam. Thank her for everything she had done for Alex and Claire. Thank her for always picking up the phone when they called (before now) and not running off to be Lucifer Junior's personal bodyguard or to be an assassin for the Brits or whatever and for always being on their side.
Sam pressed the end button after the latest voice mail, and said hoarsely "The battery is getting pretty low. I better save some juice for when she calls back." like they didn't have four other phones plugged into portable chargers right now.
Sam didn't deserve this. He had lost Eileen and Mom in the past few days. He couldn't lose Jody too.
Sam would suck it up and carry on, like he always did, because they had Brits to handle and the Devil's Baby Mama to find.
But son of a bitch, couldn't it just stop sometimes? Couldn't Sam catch a break?
The rain came harder and Dean had to turn the wipers to high and flip the defroster on.
She's/dead/she's/dead/she's/dead/she's/dead
They rode in silence for a while, Sam staring straight out the windshield, his back ramrod straight and jaw clenched so tight that he's going to have a bitch of a headache in an hour.
Dean forced himself to turn off his brain, to not think about Jody and whether she was safe and whether, if she wasn't, if Mom or Ketch or someone else was responsible.
Because if Mom was the one to kill Jody ... Dean couldn't even finish the thought.
So instead, he mentally counted kinds of pie, wondering if he could think of 50 different kinds of pie.
Sam's main phone rang.
His hands fumbled as he picked it up from the seat between them, and he gave an almost breathless sigh of hope as he muttered "It's Jody." before answering.
"Jody?"
"Are you okay?"
He looked over at Dean and nodded somewhat hysterically, giving a thumbs up, and the knot in Dean's chest eased a little.
"Listen, lock all the doors and windows. She may not be working alone. There's a British guy, Ketch, about Dean's size, dark hair, clean shaven, usually wears suits but might wear all black if he's on a mission. He's a professional assassin, and he and Mom have been working together."
Son of a bitch.
"No, she's not a demon. She's under some kind of mind control by the British Men of Letters. Yeah, really. Mind control. She shot at Dean and she and Ketch locked us in the Bunker. Yeah, he's okay. I'm okay. We're on the way. We'll be there in, uh, three hours or less, okay? Just sit tight and keep her there, and watch out for Ketch, and we'll be there as soon as we can."
Sam said goodbye and ended the call and Dean clenched the steering wheel tighter so his hands didn't shake.
"They sent Mom after her." Dean said, and even to himself, his voice didn't sound right.
"Yeah, she showed up at the door and Jody let her in. Mom surprised Jody when she attacked because Jody trusted her, but Jody and Alex overpowered Mom and have her tied up." Sam replied, his posture already relaxing and his voice almost back to normal. "Jody's going to call for a deputy to watch her house until we get there."
"Good." Dean told him.
The rain was slacking off again as they approached the left turn toward Monroe. Dean turned the wipers back down to low, and now the rhythm didn't bother him.
not / dead / not / dead / not / dead / not / dead
rating: PG
characters/pairing: Sam, Dean, Lady Toni Bevell, references to Jody and Mary
warnings: spoilers for season 12 episode 22
summary: Driving to Sioux Falls in the rain expecting to find someone you care about dead gives you too much time to think. Missing scene from Who We Are.
A/N: Title from the Johnny Cash song of the same name, which contains the line "The windshield wiper's rhythm keeps me singin' down the pain."
also on AO3
Forty five minutes or so into the trip to Sioux Falls, just outside Hastings, it started raining.
The rhythm of the windshield wipers seemed to mock them.
she's / dead / she's / dead / she's / dead
Sam in the passenger seat burned through whatever battery they had left in whatever cell phones that worked.
He had gotten in touch with Claire, who was in Racine, and sent her to Donna. But Jody still didn't answer, and Alex didn't answer. Of course, Alex might be at school, if they were lucky.
He called the station, to find out that Jody wasn't scheduled to be in that day. Of course the police wouldn't tell some random caller if Jody was on a stakeout or working undercover or if there was a legitimate reason why she couldn't answer her phone.
Sam fired off texts and sent emails and left voice messages, warning Jody to be careful and pleading with her to make some contact, just let us know you're okay.
Sam was doing his best to hold it together, but with every passing mile without a response from Jody, his hands shook a little more as he dialed again.
Angry Spice in the back seat had the sense to keep her mouth shut, or maybe it was because Dean had threatened to gag her and put her in the trunk the first time she smarted off after they left the bunker.
Dean prayed silently, to Chuck and Amara if they were listening, to Cas if he could help, to please spare Jody. He knew all the Winchesters' favors were long ago used up, but he wasn't asking this one for himself.
He asked for Alex, and for Claire, who had been through so much in their lives and needed a mom like Jody, someone who could hold them through the nightmares and smack them upside the head when the teen angst got the better of them.
He asked for the people of Sioux Falls and the surrounding area who needed Jody to protect them.
He asked for Sam, even if he was jealous sometimes of the bond Sam had with Jody. By the same token, he knew Sam needed someone else, someone besides Dean who was a total fuck up sometimes (most of the time) and might not be there for Sam one day, other than Mom and Cas who were both apparently out of their minds currently and might not ever be there for Sam again. Jody had been there when Dean was in Purgatory, when Dean was zapped into the 1940's, when Dean was off banging a porn star in the middle of a case and got caught by the monster.
If Dean could just speak to Jody one more time, he would thank her. Thank her for everything she had done for Sam. Thank her for everything she had done for Alex and Claire. Thank her for always picking up the phone when they called (before now) and not running off to be Lucifer Junior's personal bodyguard or to be an assassin for the Brits or whatever and for always being on their side.
Sam pressed the end button after the latest voice mail, and said hoarsely "The battery is getting pretty low. I better save some juice for when she calls back." like they didn't have four other phones plugged into portable chargers right now.
Sam didn't deserve this. He had lost Eileen and Mom in the past few days. He couldn't lose Jody too.
Sam would suck it up and carry on, like he always did, because they had Brits to handle and the Devil's Baby Mama to find.
But son of a bitch, couldn't it just stop sometimes? Couldn't Sam catch a break?
The rain came harder and Dean had to turn the wipers to high and flip the defroster on.
She's/dead/she's/dead/she's/dead/she's/dead
They rode in silence for a while, Sam staring straight out the windshield, his back ramrod straight and jaw clenched so tight that he's going to have a bitch of a headache in an hour.
Dean forced himself to turn off his brain, to not think about Jody and whether she was safe and whether, if she wasn't, if Mom or Ketch or someone else was responsible.
Because if Mom was the one to kill Jody ... Dean couldn't even finish the thought.
So instead, he mentally counted kinds of pie, wondering if he could think of 50 different kinds of pie.
Sam's main phone rang.
His hands fumbled as he picked it up from the seat between them, and he gave an almost breathless sigh of hope as he muttered "It's Jody." before answering.
"Jody?"
"Are you okay?"
He looked over at Dean and nodded somewhat hysterically, giving a thumbs up, and the knot in Dean's chest eased a little.
"Listen, lock all the doors and windows. She may not be working alone. There's a British guy, Ketch, about Dean's size, dark hair, clean shaven, usually wears suits but might wear all black if he's on a mission. He's a professional assassin, and he and Mom have been working together."
Son of a bitch.
"No, she's not a demon. She's under some kind of mind control by the British Men of Letters. Yeah, really. Mind control. She shot at Dean and she and Ketch locked us in the Bunker. Yeah, he's okay. I'm okay. We're on the way. We'll be there in, uh, three hours or less, okay? Just sit tight and keep her there, and watch out for Ketch, and we'll be there as soon as we can."
Sam said goodbye and ended the call and Dean clenched the steering wheel tighter so his hands didn't shake.
"They sent Mom after her." Dean said, and even to himself, his voice didn't sound right.
"Yeah, she showed up at the door and Jody let her in. Mom surprised Jody when she attacked because Jody trusted her, but Jody and Alex overpowered Mom and have her tied up." Sam replied, his posture already relaxing and his voice almost back to normal. "Jody's going to call for a deputy to watch her house until we get there."
"Good." Dean told him.
The rain was slacking off again as they approached the left turn toward Monroe. Dean turned the wipers back down to low, and now the rhythm didn't bother him.
not / dead / not / dead / not / dead / not / dead