Title: Nothing and Everything

Chapter 12

~~~~~~~~~~

Once Dean and Sam had actually started working on the panic room, it went together quickly. Ellen taking Jack for the rest of the day was a God-send towards getting the major work completed and together, he and Sam nearly finished it over the course of that day and the next.

With it almost completed, Dean took some time to show Bobby the picture of Nicki. All he got was a questioning stare and a ‘what, you think I know everyone?’ response. It did sometimes seem like Bobby knew everyone. His next step was check with Rufus, then start asking around the rest of the hunters he knew. Talking to the older ones was the best bet, he decided.

Rufus agreed to come out, not giving a timeline, though Dean expected him later rather than sooner.

He should have reversed that, because at dusk, there was a knock on the door. “Rufus. I wasn’t expecting you until --”

“You need floodlights.” He pointed in two directions. “There and there, light up the whole outside.” Next, he pointed to the camera over the door. “That thing on?”

“More or less.”

“Which is it? More? Or less?”

“Sam’s been working on it.” He’d been putting up the cameras he’d bought when they’d watched Gwen sleep and discovered the Alp. Dean adjusted Jack in his arms. “You want to come in or criticize the rest of our security?”

“Yes on both counts.” When Dean had been assured it was really Rufus and Rufus was on the couch drinking a cup of coffee, Rufus looked around. “Place is decent I guess. You got a panic room?”

“It’s in the works. Sam’s out getting more supplies. He’ll be back soon.” A little of this, of that, and some groceries.

“Needs to be done, Dean. The inclusion of baby boy there makes it a necessity. You need a safe room to put him in if you’re besieged. Haven’t you had anything run at you here? Usually the first thing that happens when you move in, like a christening ritual.”

“We’ve had two so far.” He explained, giving Jack a bottle as he did so. Jack kept a wary eye on Rufus.

“Trickster and an Alp? Never heard of an Alp, but I’d trust Chris. Good man. Kind of like how your daddy was -- focused and all.”

“You know Chris then?”

“Met him a couple times a long time ago when Sophie was about Jack’s age. She was the cutest little rugrat, too. Blond curls everywhere. Fullest head of hair on a baby I’d ever seen.” He set the coffee aside. “Where’re the two girls in the gang tonight?”

“Out at a Campbell property.”

“Property?”

He explained that too, watching the cynical gleam grow in Rufus’s eyes.

“Watch yourselves. When hunters keep lots of properties, there can be nasty reasons for it.” Rufus cleared his throat. “So…. What was so urgent I had to come by?”

“Let me put him down first.” He laid Jack in the pack and play. Jack fussed a minute, then became distracted by his own feet, kicking them. Dean returned to his chair and sat, stretching his legs out. “Sam and I ran into a woman at an auction. We think she might be a hunter. She alluded to it.”

“And you think I can i.d. her?”

“Sort of hoping you can.”

“What’d she do?”

“Said a few things caught my interest is all.”

“Name?”

“Called herself Nicki, but you and I both know it’s not necessarily her name. Had a man with her named Abe, called him her husband. You heard of them? Older couple?”

“Older than you or older than me?” He raised a brow.

“Than you. She had white hair, a swaggering attitude, and fit right in with the money crowd. Her husband didn’t. Looked like he didn’t exactly want to be there.”

“Nicki and Abe. Nicki and Abe. Nicki and…. You got a picture by chance?”

Dean pulled it up and handed his phone over.

Rufus squinted at it, then chuckled, a delighted grin splitting his features. “Hot damn, I thought she’d up and retired years ago!”

“Who is she?” He took his phone back.

“Veronica Bennett. Real classy dame. Got herself disinherited for marrying beneath her. Way beneath her. She was born to old money and the prejudices that sometimes accompany that status.” He shook his head. “I thought she and Ham retired back in the eighties.”

“What happened?”

“You want to know all about ole Ronnie?”

Ronnie. The name a rang a bell in his mind. Someone had mentioned a ‘Ronnie’ recently. Who had it been and in what capacity? “Might as well. What’ve you got?” Dean reached for a pen and paper.

“Okay.” He freshened his coffee and came back to the couch. “Most of this is straight from her mouth, too. She got talkative one night and I was around to hear the whole story. Her maiden name was Martin, some sort of heiress. She met Ham and it was love and lust at first sight. He did a job for her daddy and she didn’t hesitate to run off with him over her family’s protests. She said it was a big scandal, one the whole town she grew up in talked about. The well-loved heiress marrying the lowly working man who was little more than a drifter. Anyway, her daddy cut her off, but relented enough later to say that if her marriage lasted so many years after his death, she’d get a small trust.”

“That’s a regular fairy tale.”

“Certainly is. Of course, our definition of small and his….”

“Worlds apart?”

“You know it, Dean. If she was smart, she rationed that money, invested, and made it last.”

“I take it you think she’s smart.”

“Not a doubt in my mind.” He gestured towards Jack. “She and Ham had a baby boy, like you and Jo. Apparently there were…complications, at least that was the gist of what she talked about, and Ronnie couldn’t have any more kids. That boy was it for them.” He took a long drink of coffee. “Did I mention he was born with a caul?”

Dean glanced down at what he’d written so far, thinking about what a caul was supposed to mean. Visions and dreams and all the trouble that went with them. “Second sight. Did he have it?”

“She didn’t say anything about that, but the kid was freaky smart. Figured out things other hunters never had before, like how to combine protection spells and things for maximum coverage. God, how Ronnie bragged on him that night we talked! Kid could have written a reference book for hunters on things like that. Good at ferreting out the details.”

That sure sounded familiar. “Like Sam.”

“Maybe Sam’s mind on major steroids. Boy was a genuine genius. Ronnie was real proud of that. Not in good health though, like his mind compensated for what his body couldn’t deliver. Sickly child. Asthma, allergies. You name it he had it as a kid. Always sick with something.”

“You remember his name?”

Rufus snorted. “Nope. When you get to be my age, just learning something new pushes something old out the brain. I don’t know. I do know he died around,” he frowned as he thought, “oh, ‘80 or ‘81.”

Dean looked up and over at him. ‘80 or ‘81. No, it couldn’t be, could it? It wasn’t only Sam and Gwen who had Aaron on their minds, Dean realized as the wheels in his brain clicked a few facts into place. The year, and him being smart and good at research. Could fit. It could. A slight hope began to grow. “You’re sure it was then? ‘80 or ‘81?”

“Course I am. ‘81 I think. It coincided with….” His expression shifted and he quickly shook his head. “Well, that’s not important, just I think it was ‘81 when he died. It about destroyed Ronnie.”

Had the dress, in a roundabout way, led them to Aaron’s family? On the heels of that came another thought. Was that what Abigael had meant with that glitters line? The dress did glitter in the light from the beading and angels were cryptic in the best of times. Maybe she’d thought it was a good clue somehow. Or maybe she’d meant something else. He doubted they’d know unless they cornered her and interrogated her about it. However, sickly didn’t sound at all like Aaron, not from the picture he’d seen. Aaron hadn’t looked sick at all. He’d looked like a muscular guy. But maybe…. Some guys grew out of childhood sickness as they reached adulthood. It could have happened.

“He was her pride and joy. That never changed even when they had their falling out with him and he walked out of their lives.”

“Falling out?”

“Over a woman, Ronnie said. He liked her, they didn’t. Ham delivered an ultimatum that didn’t go over well. Something like that. A piece of normal folks life. After his death, Ronnie and Ham cleaned out wherever he’d been living and disappeared a few months later. It was in those months she told me all this, like a sort of catharsis -- she had to get it out to someone and Ham had his own way of grieving. She said the worst part was not knowing if the baby things they found there were from a grandchild they hadn’t known had been born or if it was stuff belonging to one of his friend’s kids.”

Bingo. Dean about laughed. Abigael had told Gwen the trail was right in front of her. Here it was. Damn. Maybe it wasn’t the trail she meant, but it was a trail.

“I’d thought they retired when they disappeared, guess maybe I was wrong if you ran into her. Maybe they got tired of it or some object caught their eye.”

“Object?” Jack began to make fussing noises and Dean got up to check on him. He managed to wiggle the blanket off him and Dean covered him up before returning to his chair. He picked up the pen and paper again.

Rufus took a drink. “Mmm. Yeah, object. Ronnie and Ham only deal with cursed objects. Have ever since I’ve known about them.”

“She said she knew dad.”

He nodded slowly. “Possible. Could be they pursued the same object and Ronnie has a way with people. They like her. Those big dark brown eyes can pull a guy in, even when she’s bein’ a lyin’ bitch for the job. She remembers faces. Meets someone once and remembers them for life. Hell, I suspect the kid got a lot of his genius mind from her genes. Ronnie’s no dumb broad, but she can play one easy. Don’t underestimate her.”

“You ever meet Ham?”

“In passing. He’s easy to ignore. Ronnie was the face of their team, is the face, though I think he must have been some sort of dashing back when she met him just to catch her eye.”

“No info on the Bennett family then?”

“Never cared enough to look into them. Ronnie though….” He made an appreciative clicking noise with his tongue. “Fine woman.”

Dean flipped to a fresh page on the notebook. “What about their son? You ever meet him before he died?”

“Yeah, once or twice. He and Bill Harvelle were thick as thieves for awhile. Too bad Bill’s gone or he could’ve given you the low-down on Ham and Ronnie’s boy.”

Excitement began to circle inside Dean and he suppressed a grin. While the sickly part didn’t fit, the rest did. He was right, wasn’t he? The flapper dress had led them to Aaron Carys’s parents, Gwen’s grandparents, both of whom were still alive -- an anomaly in their line of work, but something good for Gwen. At least he thought he’d found them. He’d do a bit more study into the matter before bringing it to Gwen’s attention. “Rufus, how long have you been a hunter?”

His glance fell on Jack. “Longer than I care to think about. Enjoy your family while you have them, Dean. Not all of us get the chance.”

Some day, he wanted to hear all of Rufus’s life story, but he suspected that day would never come. “You want to hold him?”

“Do I look like a baby person?”

“Maybe if I squint.”

“Pass. He is cute, though. Looks just like Jo.”

“Will you tell her that? She claims he looks like me.”

Rufus laughed.

He was gone before Sam returned and Dean worked on finding some information on Veronica Martin Bennett. He started in the state he and Sam had met her. She hadn’t been kidding when she’d told them they’d have an easy time finding her once they tried. Very…interesting. As he read, he finally remembered who had mentioned a ‘Ronnie’ recently. It had been Ellen. On her message board was a user calling herself ‘Calamity Granny’.

Her name, Calamity Granny claimed, was Ronnie.

Dean grinned.

Gotcha.

He laid a trail he thought Calamity Granny would follow and sat back. He should know soon enough if she was taking the bait.

~~~~~~~~~~

“Your idea huh?” Gwen cast a glance at Jo, then adjusted her sunglasses against the sunny glare from the snow. The further north they went, the more snow was on the ground, from patches here and there, to a smooth white landscape. Typical this time of year.

Jo grinned. “Totally my idea.”

She laughed. “Liar.”

“Moi?” Jo pointed at herself and, after another laugh, sobered. “No, you’re right, it was Dean’s idea. I mean, after his panic attack, what else could I do? No way he could deal with --”

“Panic attack?” The car hit a patch of ice and swerved before Gwen managed to straighten it out. “When did that happen?”

“You didn’t know?”

“First I’ve heard of it.”

“Sam didn’t tell you?”

“Obviously. He doesn’t tell me everything,” she protested, though he usually did, just like she knew Dean and Jo shared things with each other. She’d always thought it amazing how open Dean was with Jo on things, like he was afraid to leave anything remotely a secret.

“Sure he does. You two are always having these deep, spiritual discussions at two in the morning when normal people are asleep.”

“Hey! Are you saying we’re not normal, because,” she looked at Jo a moment over the rims of her sunglasses, “that’s like the pot and the kettle.”

“I’ll rephrase it then. How about when ‘most people’ are asleep?”

“Better and he really doesn’t tell me everything, Jo. Not all the time. I wonder if that was what he wouldn’t tell me right after they got back. It was something serious about Dean and why they kept traveling.”

“That was it.”

Jo said it with a certainty and Gwen nodded. “Okay. So is he okay then?”

“He will be…as long as I don’t push too hard for field work.”

“Hence our road trips to get this list of properties finished.”

“Hence.” Jo reached into the bag at her feet and brought out the envelope with the information. As she opened it and started looking through the papers, Gwen thought about what they’d learned so far.

The property they were checking out this time was, according to the satellite photo off of Bing maps, a large structure that reminded Gwen of the compound and stirred a faint memory in the back of her mind -- nothing concrete, just a half-buried hazy memory that wouldn’t come in to focus fully. Maybe not as big as the compound Dean had met them all in, but certainly good sized. It was a single structure that they could tell, surrounded by trees, and had a long driveway that might be impassable from snow. She and Jo had both packed their winter hiking boots and coats.

A quick inquiry had told them that the property taxes were paid and current. Gwen wondered where the account was that was giving the necessary taxes and rents to the various properties and how soon until it ran out of money. Another reason for the sense of urgency Jo had imparted to their trip. It’d be a disaster if one of the rented properties was opened up for non-payment and the things inside were sold or thrown out or if one of the owned properties was sold for back taxes. Bad things could be released back into the world. There hadn’t been a Campbell making obvious payments on anything for awhile. Was everything on that list on automatic payments? Gwen hoped so and hoped the account had plenty in it to cover things for awhile.

Why hadn’t Neal and Patricia ever told her any of this? Why hadn’t they mentioned properties? For that matter, why hadn’t anyone else?

Honestly though, she wouldn’t have put it past Christian to have known and thought it was only something certain individuals, namely he and he alone, were entitled to know about. If he had known, it meant there was a chance some demon somewhere also knew about them.

“What’s wrong,” Jo asked.

Gwen shook her head. “Christian was possessed.”

“And?” Her tone indicated she wasn’t following Gwen on that.

“Oh, I was thinking that out of all the Campbell kids, Christian might have been the one to know about the properties. He did have the archives after dad died. Not a stretch that dad told him about the properties, too. The problem is that he was possessed. If he knew about them --”

“Then so did the demon the demon in him worked for,” she mused. “You could be right.”

“We could walk in to a trap.” She had no proof on that, but it was fun to speculate.

A slow smile stretched Jo’s lips. “I bet Dean never thought of that scenario. If he had, I can guarantee you we wouldn’t be on our way out right now.”

They stopped earlier than they usually did and started a bit later in the morning, finding the town by late afternoon. After a drive-through to study it and a quick drive out to where the driveway to the property was, they found a motel and checked in.

Gwen called Sam while Jo took a long shower. “How goes the panic room,” she asked.

“Pretty much done. All that’s left is adding some furniture and a few extra touches. I think Dean wants to out-do Bobby’s panic room, like I‘‘s a competition.”

“He’ll have a hard time doing that. Bobby thought of everything.”

“By the time Dean’s done, so will he. He’s wanting a generator, a mini fridge, and microwave in there now.”

“All the comforts of home.” And how much of that was just to tease Sam? “Can’t wait to see it.” She thought she heard Jack making noises close to the phone and frowned. “Sam? What am I hearing?”

“I’m giving Jack a bottle while Dean takes measurements downstairs.”

She could picture it in her head and smiled. Sam holding the baby was a sweet picture and one she’d never get tired of. Once he’d relaxed, he’d gotten fairly comfortable with Jack quickly. It had only taken a couple days for him to be feeding and changing him like a pro.

“You get out to the property yet?”

“Did a drive-by. Looks like the drive is partially cleared, but we’re going to have to hike the rest of the way in. The trees around the property are just as thick as we thought, too.”

“Well, be careful.”

“You know me.”

“Yeah, I said be careful, Gwen.”

She laughed. “Man, you and Jo are both ganging up on me lately. I’m careful. We’ll be fine.”

They chatted for a short while longer, until Jo was done with her shower and Sam said Dean was bellowing for him.

Jo emerged from the bathroom. She’d put on a whole new set of clothes and braided her wet hair. “I feel warmer now.” She gestured at the phone, then sat and reached for her boots. “How are things back home? Panic room done yet?”

“Just about. Dean’s adding finishing touches.”

“Throw pillows and a couple pretty lamps?”

Gwen snorted. “More like a mini-fridge and microwave. I think if he could put magic fingers on the cot he wants in there he’d do that too.”

“And probably a pantry cupboard filled with snacks, as well.” She reached for her coat. “Let’s go have dinner and meet the natives.”

“You are rarin’ to go, aren’t you?” Gwen got her own coat and they left the motel.

~~~~~~~~~~

The town was sweet in a way that reminded Jo of Norman Rockwell prints and the town Castiel had first discovered her in. It didn’t make her nostalgic. Near as they could figure out, the last time anyone had been out at the building had been 2010. One woman they talked to in the town office remembered the ‘charming bald man’ who’d stopped by and chatted with her about it.

“Samuel,” Gwen said once they were out on the sidewalk walking towards the car. “The bald man was Samuel, though I’d take issue with the charming part of her description. I didn’t find him particularly charming at times. Bossy maybe, old-fashioned, but not charming.”

“What was he doing here?”

“Checking it out, I guess. Maybe eliminating it for a compound location? Looking for something? Who knows. Could’ve been a million reasons he was out here.”

“Makes this property a bit more interesting knowing he was here last.”

Gwen grunted as they got into the car, but didn’t reply.

The drive to the location was pleasant. While the day was cold, it was pretty up there, though isolated. They pulled into the drive as far as they could and got out, grabbing a few things like guns and flashlights. Jo had her knife inside her jacket in a sheath Dean had had specially made for her.

The top crust of the snow crunched beneath their boots as they walked up the rest of the drive. They came to a fence stretched across it, a ‘no trespassing’ sign prominent on it. From above came a cawing sound and Jo looked up, not seeing the bird that had made it. Rather than try and open it, they climbed over it and continued onward. The driveway from that gate had to be at least a quarter of a mile long Jo decided. Quite a haul from the road itself and nicely isolated.

She stopped, turned in a slow circle, and studied the area. Wooded heavily enough that there was protection from the road, but not so much along the driveway. The trees and bushes were more sparse along that line.

“What?” Gwen stopped walking. “You see something?”

“No, just looking.”

They walked the last stretch, a curved portion, and the building was in view. It was what she’d expected from the satellite picture. Big, rectangular, grey, and depressing as heck in the winter daylight. There was a wide barn door on the long wall facing the drive, a smaller, average door on one short end, and no windows that weren’t boarded up. The wide door had a padlock. The key they had fit the regular door.

Inside, it smelled musty and moldy. Most of all, it smelled abandoned. There was a bank of small rooms flanking the door, four on either side down a hallways that led to another door. This one was unlocked. Jo and Gwen went through it, shining their lights all around. At one end were a few old cars old enough to be collector’s dreams if they were in good condition, like a model ‘T’, and a wagon with two broken wheels. Directly behind the vehicles was a wall all the way to the ceiling and another door that Jo bet went to an exact replica of this end of the building.

The large room was cavernous. When Jo raised her light upwards, she saw rafters at the ceiling.

“Let’s look in the little rooms first,” Gwen suggested.

One room was lined with shelves. Items glittered in glass jars and Jo saw a few little wooden boxes with symbols on them that made her smile. Finally. They’d found something. Each room had items of interest in them. After a cursory examination of all eight small rooms, they walked around the edge of the large room, hugging the wall to the other end. It turned out she’d been almost right. There were more rooms at that end, though they were larger and set up like a house, with a living area, dining room and kitchen on the lower level and four bedrooms and a bathroom upstairs. Most of the furniture was still there, beat-up, and a mish-mash of styles.

Jo took two of the bedrooms and when she was done, found Gwen still in a third, sitting on the lid of a wooden trunk, holding a doll in her hands. She looked troubled, staring at that doll and frowning. “Gwen? What is it?”

“This was my doll.” She gestured to the left. “Those were my toys. Mom told me they’d gotten lost in the move. I remember that. She went out and bought me new ones because I was so upset.”

The beam from her flashlight found a small table that still had crayons and a moldy coloring book on it, and a set of Tinker toys. There were other shapes on the floor, other toys laid out there, and Jo moved her light back to Gwen. “You’re sure?”

“We lived in a few different places when I was little. I don’t…. I don’t remember this one as a whole, but I remember the doll, the toys, and the mural. How old was I? Six maybe? Five? Very young.”

“Mural?”

Gwen turned her flashlight onto the wall. The letters ‘G’ and ‘C’ were painted like letters from a medieval book in Bobby’s collection. Fancy. Someone had taken a lot of time and care to do that. A lot of love.

“Who was the painter?”

“Mom. She liked doing things like that and didn’t have the time usually, but for me she did.” With a sigh, she set the doll down. “Nice pick for a property Jo.”

“Seemed like a good idea from the satellite pics.”

“Well, this is definitely a Campbell property.”

“We’ll mark it down. Wonder what Samuel was after here? Something in one of those storage rooms maybe?”

Gwen stood. “If usual methods hold, we’ll find a trapdoor to a lower level somewhere in the main room, something not obvious.”

But they didn’t find the trapdoor. The wooden floor creaked ominously as they walked back and forth across it.

“Are you sure there’s a trapdoor?” Jo turned her back to Gwen, sweeping her light across the floor. She saw no sign of a trapdoor. “Are you sure there’s another level?”

“We always had things like that. Maybe the entrance is in another area? I suppose there could be a whole basement under this.”

Jo heard a crack and gasp, the floor heaving beneath her feet. When she looked back, Gwen was gone, a hole in the floor where she’d been standing. “Gwen? You okay?” Dust billowed upwards. “Gwen?”

She directed the light all over the hole that had appeared in the floor, but there was no sign of her anywhere. She should have been either prone on the earthen floor or getting up and cussing up a storm. Gwen should have been straight down and she wasn’t. She simply wasn’t there anymore. Where had she gone? What the hell was going on?

She took a step closer to the edge. The old floor protested and Jo felt a sickening lurch as it gave way beneath her feet.

Strong arms went around her, dragging her against a body that was too hot, and saving her from falling through the floor as that section slid into the darkness below. She was whirled bodily to face away from the hole and set down, pushed forward so hard that she stumbled against the wall. Jo reached inside her coat for her knife and drew it out, pushing from the wall, turning to face her attacker, ready to fight.…

No one was there. There was no man, no person at all.

“You son of a bitch, where did you go?”

Her flashlight made wild arcs about the room, catching no second person there.

But there had been. The arms around her had been real, the heat of the body, the strong shove she’d been given. Who had saved her from falling through the floor and where had he gone? No way he could have escaped so quickly without her having heard him at least. The floor in this drafty old building creaked something terrible.

“Come out, you bastard!”

Her heart pounded hard in her chest and her breaths were loud.

She heard the fluttering of wings in the upper stretch of the huge room, a thing that was strange at this time of year. It was winter. Bird activity should be next to nothing. Jo stared upwards, training her light there. She thought she saw a black large bird flying about, yet couldn’t get a good look at it.

Jo took cautious steps towards the newest hole in the floor, looking down, shining the light there. Below where she’d stood was a mess of wood and what looked like old traps of some kind. Rusty, spiky metal. If she’d fallen, she would have been killed. She gulped.

“Gwen? Answer me, damn it!”

She explored the rest of the building again, looking for signs of Gwen. There were both their footsteps in the dust, but no others. There was still no sign of her, like she’d ceased to exist. She was just gone. All the while Jo had searched, she’d felt as though someone was there watching her.

Damn, Jo thought. She was going to have to call Dean and Sam.

Not the way she’d wanted her first trip out to go.

~~~~~~~~~~

Gwen had a fraction of a second to hear the creak and feel the floor give and then she was falling, hitting the earthen ground of the basement hard. Dust ballooned up into the air. Gwen coughed, dragging her jacket over her face, trying not to breathe it in.

I found a way into the basement, she thought. Not an exactly an ideal entrance.

The scent was of decay, a putrid mix of rot and earth.

Slowly, she tried to sit, gingerly testing herself, making sure nothing was broken. She was able to raise up onto her elbows, but her right wrist gave a twinge of pain when she tried to put pressure on it to sit. She peered at her wrist. Sprained maybe, she decided, then looked at her equipment, blinking until she could focus on them long enough to check them. Her vision was moving from focused to unfocused and back to focused. Not good. Her camera and phone were both smashed from the fall and her gun was gone.

She pressed a hand to her forehead and laid back again. Another minute. She’d take another minute and then try to sit up again. Gwen closed her eyes. She thought she might have a concussion from the fall.

Where was Jo? Why wasn’t she right there at the edge calling down to her? Had something happened? Under normal circumstances, Jo would be already calling to her, trying to make sure Gwen was okay. Where was she?

A shadow fell over her and she looked up from the hole and into the room. Her vision wasn’t cooperating, everything going all blurry, but one thing she knew. The figure standing at the edge wasn’t Jo.

The figure was a man.

She lost consciousness.