MaryJohn AU -- Mama Bear 1/1
SUMMARY: Staying behind while your heart's children go into a dangerous situation is never easy. Knowing they're heading to a Bermuda Triangle of a world is excruciating. The waiting truly is the hardest part.
Ellen Harvelle was many things. She was a widow. She was a businesswoman. She was an information broker and a supplier of many goods and services.
But above all that? Ellen Harvelle was a mother. And not only to the daughter she gave birth to.
Somehow, she had realised she had become a maternal figure to three trouble-prone brothers. When they were out of touch for awhile, she found them dominating her thoughts.
And that was exactly where she found herself right now. She paced from one corner of the Roadhouse's bridge to the other, fretting and worrying and getting madder and madder.
Bobby Singer had contacted her three days earlier and told her that the Winchester brothers were heading to investigate one of the Alliance's biggest mysteries - a Bermuda Triangle of a world called Lankeer.
Nobody had heard from the Winchester Three since.
Together, Bobby and Ellen had worked out a "Worry Deadline" - wait a week and then launch all resources to finding the trio.
But Ellen was worried now. Her female intuition - and her mother's intuition - were screaming at her that something was very, very wrong with this situation.
After one final circuit of her bridge, she made a decision. Turning to her navigator she demanded, "I need us to set down on the nearest world."
She nodded and called up a display. "Closest world is Dorlan, two days' journey out. But, ma'am, it would be more profitable if we waited until we could put down on Sparat. It's another week's ride, but we would make --"
"Vahra, I don't care about profit right now. Set us down on Dorlan." As the navigator turned to obey, she drifted over to her second, her heart squeezing slightly as it did every time she looked at the young man.
Her own adopted son had been killed when demons had firebombed the original Harvelle's Roadhouse back on Earth. But she had been in this new, mobile Roadhouse for only a week or two when she had encountered an oddly familiar face when he had stumbled in, looking for a job.
Born and raised on a world populated by Removed from Roman-occupied Britain, Kray Marin had a head for the business and an affinity for computers. He had quickly made himself indispensable to Ellen. He looked exactly like her Ash, down to the short, spiky bangs he wore though his long blond hair was pulled into a perpetual ponytail.
After she had called him "Ash" by mistake twice, Marin had adopted that as his new nickname, waving aside her apologies and telling her it suited him.
So now she no longer hesitated. "Hey, Ash! I need to talk to you."
"Coming." He stood and met her halfway. "What's wrong? You've been pacing like a caged terkasha all day."
"Walk with me." They fell in step and left the bridge, moving down one of the access hallways. "We need to set down and restock and call Singer."
"I'll run inventory," Ash said with a nod, already understanding what she was about to ask him. Then he demonstrated just how well he had come to know her. "Has there been any word from the boys yet?"
She turned to face him. "How do you do that?"
He shrugged, a smile teasing at his lips. "It's a skill."
"Clearly," she laughed softly. "No, there hasn't. Has JoannaBeth been in contact?"
"Not yet. I was going to suggest contacting her if we haven't heard anything by tomorrow."
"Agreed - but I'll contact her after we put down. Let her know where we've camped awhile."
He nodded and turned down the "rabbit trail" that led to one of the many storerooms, beginning the inventory she'd asked for.
Ellen sighed and drifted toward her quarters. She knew she'd be hearing from Ash as soon as the inventory was done. Vahra wouldn't bother contacting her unless there was a problem.
Now, there was nothing to do but think.
And worry about her kids - all four of them.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Two uneventful days passed, until Ellen's communications console beeped in her quarters. She activated it and blinked to see Vahra's felinoid features filling the screen. "Vahra? What is it?"
"Recommending you batten the hatches, ma'am," came her calm tones. "We have reached Dorlan. Planetfall in thirty."
"Thank you, Vahra. I'll be on the bridge once everything is secure. Go ahead and set us down as planned, then send out the signal."
She nodded and the screen went dark.
Ellen sighed and moved to make up her bed and make sure her few precious things were secure and would not break. She was nearly finished when her console let out another beep.
Frowning, she activated it again. She sat down hard in her chair when Bobby Singer's grizzled features filled her screen. "You've heard from them." It was not a question.
"I have. They need a place to hole up and heal. Are you still spaced?"
"No, we're actually just making planetfall. Dorlan."
"Dorlan." He looked away and she could hear his fingers clicking keys. For someone who so doggedly preferred books to computers, Singer had adapted well to the differences living in space instead of having a permanent planet to call home required of him. "Okay, Dorlan." He chuckled. "Better make sure your earth-grav generators are up and working, or the boys will be smashin' glasses again."
"Lighter gravity, huh? Dean seems to enjoy that." She grinned at the memories - Dean moving heavy loads with just his own strength and poor Sam off to the side afraid to touch anything at all until she got the generators that compensated for any gravity, making the planetside Roadhouse constantly Earth-normal.
Nothing made any difference to Cas - his body compensated automatically for any gravity. The Impala's life support web enabled her to automatically adjust to any situation, so every road or off-road for the brothers was like riding down an ordinary road anywhere in the USA.
Ellen shook off the memories and nodded. "I'll make sure Ash gets them set to normal. You said they need to heal?"
"There was.... a bit of trouble on Lankeer." Something in the way Singer said that sent ice slithering down Ellen's spine. "Heard from Jo?"
"This morning, actually," Ellen said. "She's talked the B'Shain into Removing someone to help you out."
"I don't need any--" But Singer looked away and sighed. "Who? Not some greenhorn I have to train from scratch, I hope."
"Not from scratch," Ellen grinned. "And I ain't gonna be the one to tell Turner you called him a greenhorn."
Singer's eyes widened. "Turner? Rufus Turner?"
"The one and the same bastard."
Singer sat back. "Well, damn!" Then he started to laugh.
Ellen grinned - she'd had a few hours to adjust to the idea. "Talk about out of his depth!"
"Oh, this is going to be fun. Have you told her to bring him to the Roadhouse?"
"I have. You comin'?"
"Soon as I wrap up affairs here. If I beat the boys there, let me know."
"Will do. See you when you're here."
"See you then, Ellen." And the screen went dark.
Ellen made her way to the bridge and sat beside Vahra as the massive ship settled its way through the atmosphere and then anchored itself into the soil of a new world.
Three hours later, the protective shields were lowered. Double doors opened and plates slid up, exposing lighted signs that were automatically translated into every dialect.
Harvelle's Roadhouse was open for business on Dorlan.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Three more days passed. Slowly, the Roadhouse stocked its larders with supplies of any and every stripe.
Patrons drifted in, as did information. Word was now out that a red-and-silver cruiser had escaped from Lankeer and had reported that the inhabitants were rabid xenophobes who routinely slaughtered the crews of any ships that entered their system.
Ellen relaxed marginally, hearing that. That ship matched the Winchesters' MaryJohn. And if anyone could escape alive with that kind of information, it was John Winchester's boys.
Now, if only they'd show up, she could start breathing again.
She was working behind the bar when she heard a familiar growl. "What's a guy gotta do to get a decent beer around here?"
"Get yourself up to the bar, Singer," she called with a smile. "How the hell are you?"
"Good. Mind if I crash here for a day or two?"
She nodded. "You can bunk in the quarters part of the ship."
"Thanks." He sipped the beer she poured for him. "Now that is some good stuff! Where'd it come from?"
"Milwaukee." At his expression, she grinned. "Jo brought back a hundred cases from her last visit to Earth."
Bobby smiled back and nursed his beer.
Ash leaned his head in. "Ma'am, Vahra reports an incoming message. She transcribed it for you." At her nod, he read, "'Tell Mama Bear her cubs are comin' in.' That's the extent of the message."
Ellen and Bobby's eyes met and she thanked Ash. As they walked out of the Roadhouse, Ellen shaded her eyes and watched the sky for a moment.
"There!" Bobby called, and she followed his gaze to see a red-and-silver streak glide across the sky from west to east, waggling its wings in reply to Ellen and Bobby's waving arms.
The MaryJohn had arrived on Dorlan.
END
Ellen Harvelle was many things. She was a widow. She was a businesswoman. She was an information broker and a supplier of many goods and services.
But above all that? Ellen Harvelle was a mother. And not only to the daughter she gave birth to.
Somehow, she had realised she had become a maternal figure to three trouble-prone brothers. When they were out of touch for awhile, she found them dominating her thoughts.
And that was exactly where she found herself right now. She paced from one corner of the Roadhouse's bridge to the other, fretting and worrying and getting madder and madder.
Bobby Singer had contacted her three days earlier and told her that the Winchester brothers were heading to investigate one of the Alliance's biggest mysteries - a Bermuda Triangle of a world called Lankeer.
Nobody had heard from the Winchester Three since.
Together, Bobby and Ellen had worked out a "Worry Deadline" - wait a week and then launch all resources to finding the trio.
But Ellen was worried now. Her female intuition - and her mother's intuition - were screaming at her that something was very, very wrong with this situation.
After one final circuit of her bridge, she made a decision. Turning to her navigator she demanded, "I need us to set down on the nearest world."
She nodded and called up a display. "Closest world is Dorlan, two days' journey out. But, ma'am, it would be more profitable if we waited until we could put down on Sparat. It's another week's ride, but we would make --"
"Vahra, I don't care about profit right now. Set us down on Dorlan." As the navigator turned to obey, she drifted over to her second, her heart squeezing slightly as it did every time she looked at the young man.
Her own adopted son had been killed when demons had firebombed the original Harvelle's Roadhouse back on Earth. But she had been in this new, mobile Roadhouse for only a week or two when she had encountered an oddly familiar face when he had stumbled in, looking for a job.
Born and raised on a world populated by Removed from Roman-occupied Britain, Kray Marin had a head for the business and an affinity for computers. He had quickly made himself indispensable to Ellen. He looked exactly like her Ash, down to the short, spiky bangs he wore though his long blond hair was pulled into a perpetual ponytail.
After she had called him "Ash" by mistake twice, Marin had adopted that as his new nickname, waving aside her apologies and telling her it suited him.
So now she no longer hesitated. "Hey, Ash! I need to talk to you."
"Coming." He stood and met her halfway. "What's wrong? You've been pacing like a caged terkasha all day."
"Walk with me." They fell in step and left the bridge, moving down one of the access hallways. "We need to set down and restock and call Singer."
"I'll run inventory," Ash said with a nod, already understanding what she was about to ask him. Then he demonstrated just how well he had come to know her. "Has there been any word from the boys yet?"
She turned to face him. "How do you do that?"
He shrugged, a smile teasing at his lips. "It's a skill."
"Clearly," she laughed softly. "No, there hasn't. Has JoannaBeth been in contact?"
"Not yet. I was going to suggest contacting her if we haven't heard anything by tomorrow."
"Agreed - but I'll contact her after we put down. Let her know where we've camped awhile."
He nodded and turned down the "rabbit trail" that led to one of the many storerooms, beginning the inventory she'd asked for.
Ellen sighed and drifted toward her quarters. She knew she'd be hearing from Ash as soon as the inventory was done. Vahra wouldn't bother contacting her unless there was a problem.
Now, there was nothing to do but think.
And worry about her kids - all four of them.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Two uneventful days passed, until Ellen's communications console beeped in her quarters. She activated it and blinked to see Vahra's felinoid features filling the screen. "Vahra? What is it?"
"Recommending you batten the hatches, ma'am," came her calm tones. "We have reached Dorlan. Planetfall in thirty."
"Thank you, Vahra. I'll be on the bridge once everything is secure. Go ahead and set us down as planned, then send out the signal."
She nodded and the screen went dark.
Ellen sighed and moved to make up her bed and make sure her few precious things were secure and would not break. She was nearly finished when her console let out another beep.
Frowning, she activated it again. She sat down hard in her chair when Bobby Singer's grizzled features filled her screen. "You've heard from them." It was not a question.
"I have. They need a place to hole up and heal. Are you still spaced?"
"No, we're actually just making planetfall. Dorlan."
"Dorlan." He looked away and she could hear his fingers clicking keys. For someone who so doggedly preferred books to computers, Singer had adapted well to the differences living in space instead of having a permanent planet to call home required of him. "Okay, Dorlan." He chuckled. "Better make sure your earth-grav generators are up and working, or the boys will be smashin' glasses again."
"Lighter gravity, huh? Dean seems to enjoy that." She grinned at the memories - Dean moving heavy loads with just his own strength and poor Sam off to the side afraid to touch anything at all until she got the generators that compensated for any gravity, making the planetside Roadhouse constantly Earth-normal.
Nothing made any difference to Cas - his body compensated automatically for any gravity. The Impala's life support web enabled her to automatically adjust to any situation, so every road or off-road for the brothers was like riding down an ordinary road anywhere in the USA.
Ellen shook off the memories and nodded. "I'll make sure Ash gets them set to normal. You said they need to heal?"
"There was.... a bit of trouble on Lankeer." Something in the way Singer said that sent ice slithering down Ellen's spine. "Heard from Jo?"
"This morning, actually," Ellen said. "She's talked the B'Shain into Removing someone to help you out."
"I don't need any--" But Singer looked away and sighed. "Who? Not some greenhorn I have to train from scratch, I hope."
"Not from scratch," Ellen grinned. "And I ain't gonna be the one to tell Turner you called him a greenhorn."
Singer's eyes widened. "Turner? Rufus Turner?"
"The one and the same bastard."
Singer sat back. "Well, damn!" Then he started to laugh.
Ellen grinned - she'd had a few hours to adjust to the idea. "Talk about out of his depth!"
"Oh, this is going to be fun. Have you told her to bring him to the Roadhouse?"
"I have. You comin'?"
"Soon as I wrap up affairs here. If I beat the boys there, let me know."
"Will do. See you when you're here."
"See you then, Ellen." And the screen went dark.
Ellen made her way to the bridge and sat beside Vahra as the massive ship settled its way through the atmosphere and then anchored itself into the soil of a new world.
Three hours later, the protective shields were lowered. Double doors opened and plates slid up, exposing lighted signs that were automatically translated into every dialect.
Harvelle's Roadhouse was open for business on Dorlan.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Three more days passed. Slowly, the Roadhouse stocked its larders with supplies of any and every stripe.
Patrons drifted in, as did information. Word was now out that a red-and-silver cruiser had escaped from Lankeer and had reported that the inhabitants were rabid xenophobes who routinely slaughtered the crews of any ships that entered their system.
Ellen relaxed marginally, hearing that. That ship matched the Winchesters' MaryJohn. And if anyone could escape alive with that kind of information, it was John Winchester's boys.
Now, if only they'd show up, she could start breathing again.
She was working behind the bar when she heard a familiar growl. "What's a guy gotta do to get a decent beer around here?"
"Get yourself up to the bar, Singer," she called with a smile. "How the hell are you?"
"Good. Mind if I crash here for a day or two?"
She nodded. "You can bunk in the quarters part of the ship."
"Thanks." He sipped the beer she poured for him. "Now that is some good stuff! Where'd it come from?"
"Milwaukee." At his expression, she grinned. "Jo brought back a hundred cases from her last visit to Earth."
Bobby smiled back and nursed his beer.
Ash leaned his head in. "Ma'am, Vahra reports an incoming message. She transcribed it for you." At her nod, he read, "'Tell Mama Bear her cubs are comin' in.' That's the extent of the message."
Ellen and Bobby's eyes met and she thanked Ash. As they walked out of the Roadhouse, Ellen shaded her eyes and watched the sky for a moment.
"There!" Bobby called, and she followed his gaze to see a red-and-silver streak glide across the sky from west to east, waggling its wings in reply to Ellen and Bobby's waving arms.
The MaryJohn had arrived on Dorlan.
END