Title: Nothing and Everything

Chapter 20

Rating: T

Disclaimer: Supernatural was created by Eric Kripke. No disrespect is meant with this work of fan fiction.

~~~~~~~~~~

The year was passing quickly, almost too quickly in Dean’s opinion. February was almost over. The building in Montana had been another dead-end, much to all their frustration. It, too, was in rubble, but had been for a very long time. Jo and Gwen had reported there wasn’t anything there to see, making it a likely candidate to be sold off, since it was one they owned outright. When he and Sam had left, Jo and Gwen were navigating the real estate waters, to get the process going.

They appeared to be no closer to finding the box with the Trickster’s magic. Dean sent a query to Ronnie, reminding her that he and Jo had asked her about it, receiving an email with only an address in it in return. It was the cabin she and Ham owned, the one he’d already hunted down and planned to visit. He guessed that meant she’d be expecting them to pop in, so he and Sam were en route.

He’d talked to Sam as they drove about what he now knew about Ham and Ronnie. Out of the four of them, it was just Gwen now who didn’t know.

The days passing were like seconds ticking by on the clock of Gwen’s timeline. Dean felt the anxiety of that like he had his own wait for hell. If Sam lost Gwen…. He didn’t want to think what the loss of her could do to Sam, what with him finally opening up and starting to let himself feel again. This was a delicate time for Sam emotionally, Dean knew that and did everything he could to shore him up and keep him steady.

The cabin was off a private road out in the middle of nowhere. As they drove up the driveway, he noted a fence and cameras placed in strategic points in the trees.

“They’ll know we’re coming,” he said.

“Ronnie invited us. That’s what the address she sent was, an invitation.”

“You think her husband knows?”

Sam shrugged. “Maybe. You’re sure this is the right place?”

They parked beside a Suburban and got out. The cabin was two stories and not exceptionally large. Dean thought their base was bigger than the cabin. He studied the clearing. There were more cameras and as they walked up the steps, the devil’s trap in front of the front door became visible. “I think it’s the right place.”

The door opened. Ronnie stood there, elegant in slacks and a sweater. “Well don’t just stand there in the cold, boys. Come in. Have some coffee.”

She’d been watching for them. How long had she been standing at the front windows, Dean wondered. “Coffee sounds great.”

“Who is it, Nic,” a gruff voice called.

“Guests, dear,” she called back.

As they followed her into the cabin, he heard paper rustling. “Guests. Right. Care to be more specific?”

The air smelled of pine, citrus, coffee, and what smelled like…coffeecake? Dean perked up. Fresh coffeecake to go with the coffee sounded like a good idea, too.

“It’s the Winchester boys.” She said it like it was ridiculous it’d be anyone else and gestured for them to follow her through a door. “I just took out a cinnamon chip coffeecake if you’d like some?”

“Sounds great, Ronnie,” Dean told her.

“The Winchester boys? Pray tell, who are the Winchester boys, Nic?” The words were careful, as though he knew very well who they were and hadn’t considered they’d ever be in his house.

“Hunters, Ham. Remember? We met them over that silly dress? The boys who know our granddaughter? Don’t you remember?” She busied herself pouring coffee and putting the cups on the table, then getting out plates and silverware. She dished up generous portions of the cake.

Dean took a minute to look around the room. There was a fireplace on one wall that had probably once been used for actual cooking. On the mantel were a few framed pictures. There, on the end, by the picture of a teenage boy, was the picture of Sam and Gwen, in a nice frame. He smothered a pleased smile and glanced at Sam to see if he’d noticed the picture yet.

He hadn’t, his attention alternating between Ronnie and the doorway.

Abraham Bennett appeared in the doorway. He took off his glasses and shoved them in the pocket of his shirt. “Oh. Them.” He looked less than thrilled to have them there. “What do you want,” he asked in a decidedly ungracious tone.

“Come have some coffee with us,” Ronnie cajoled with a smile. “The cake is ready.”

“Well, if the cake is ready, I guess we’ll all have coffee.” He joined them in the room itself and went to the table. “Go ahead and sit. Won’t get Ronnie to until you do.”

She brought them cake, set the coffeepot in the center of the table on a hot pad, and began to eat her cake, pausing to make introductions. “Ham, the boy on my left is Dean, the boy on the right is Sam.”

He flicked a glance at both of them without saying a word and went back to his cake.

This couldn’t be much more awkward, Dean thought, digging into the slab of cake on his plate. It was every bit as good as that bakery stuff Jo and Gwen liked to pick up.

Ronnie cleared her throat. “Is your wife at home, Dean?”

“She is. Working on a business matter.”

“Ahh. How’ve you been, Sam?”

He seemed surprised she’d even ask. “I’m fine. Thanks.” He wasn’t eating the cake or drinking the coffee.

Ronnie adhered to the pleasantries of company, chatting on light matters until the cake had been eaten. “There. I suppose we can discuss business now.”

“Fine.” Ham shoved his plate aside. “What sort of business do we have to discuss?”

“The box,” Sam reminded him. “The one with Trickster magic in it? Dean and Jo talked to Ronnie about it?”

“That box.” Ham nodded and crossed his arms.

“You have any idea why a Trickster would be interested in your granddaughter?” Dean accepted more coffee from Ronnie.

Ham sighed. “Aaron could be a hotshot at times, too clever for his own good. A Trickster would be something he’d think he could take on. Look boys, I see you’re just as clever as Aaron was. You tracked down this property and I thought I’d had it pretty well hidden.”

Ronnie was carefully not looking at any of them, fussing with the coffee pot and the placement of it on the hot pad on the table.

Dean found it interesting that Ham wasn’t aware she’d sent him the address. “We must be clever,” he agreed.

“Things we’ve heard? You are. However, I’d just as soon you forget you found us alive. Tell the girl --”

“Gwen, dear,” Ronnie interrupted. “Her name is Gwen.”

He shot a cool glance her way. “The girl. Tell the girl you found a couple of graves.”

“You don’t want to meet your granddaughter?” Sam was offended by that attitude, Dean could see it in the way his nostrils were flaring, hear it in the almost cautious way he said the words.

“I didn’t approve of her mother, wasn’t welcome once she realized I was on to her and my son cut me out of his life.”

“Us.” Ronnie whispered. “He cut us out.” Her glance back at Ham held hurt that was personal, old, and deep.

“I couldn’t save him. If we’d gotten the call sooner, maybe I could have.”

What could Ham have done? How could he have saved him? The sort of wounds Aaron had died from weren’t the kind that could be stitched up and healed over. Even if they’d gotten him to a hospital, chances were that Aaron would have still died. From the account they’d found, Mia had ripped him open, doing a good imitation of a female Jack the Ripper.

“I could have saved him,” Ham repeated.

The guilt that ran rampant on his face for long seconds fascinated Dean and he filed that and Ham’s certainty away to look at later. Perhaps Abraham Bennett deserved a closer look. He made a mental note to dig a bit into Ham’s family and find out why he was positive he could have saved his son.

“Mia separated him from us.” Ronnie twisted her wedding ring on her finger, around and around. “She did it effortlessly. He walked away from us.”

There was a division in their grief, Dean saw. Ham regretted having been cut out of Aaron’s life and somehow not saving him and cut Ronnie out of his grief, while Ronnie…. She felt the pain of losing her son and losing a part of her husband as well. A double whammy still felt after all these years.

Maybe the two were fine everywhere else, but when it came to Aaron’s death, they were a ton of messed up.

Dean could relate.

Ham poured himself more coffee. “When a man’s caught in a deceitful woman’s web, ain’t nothing releasing him until it’s too late one way or another. His was the permanent way. My son had a big problem thinking with the wrong head where women were concerned.”

With a glance at Sam, Dean nodded. They could relate to that, too.

“He was a sick child, not strong,” Ronnie explained. “Billy was his only real friend for years. Our families worked well together many times. We enjoyed having Billy around. He encouraged Aaron to work on building himself up. He got Aaron into things Ham and I couldn’t. Children never listen to their parents, you know. We never know what’s best.”

Dean shifted uncomfortably in his chair.

Ham snorted. “Aren’t you forgetting Billy’s flaw, Ronnie? He introduced Aaron to Patty.”

“Who introduced him to Neal, I’m guessing, and they hit it off?” Dean watched Ham’s expression closely. He saw anger beginning to build there, tiny flickers catching into flame.

“They did. God knows why. Aaron knew very well what those Campbells were capable of.”

“What were they capable of,” Sam asked, setting his cup down without having had a single sip. He was going through the motions, pretending.

Ham sneered. “The Campbell family is a bunch of backstabbing thieves out for number one. They’ll screw anyone over, even their own kin, to get what they want in this life. Scum of the earth. If that girl was raised by one of them, then she’s lost to us.”

“You’re going to completely dismiss her because of a prejudice against an entire family?”

“You think that’s stupid, Sam? How about having your ancestors betrayed and murdered by one of them? Slaughtered by Campbell greed. They stole books from us, important books, and I’d never trust one of them. Betrayal, murder, and stealing are just a few of their sins.”

“And I’m sure your family is lily white,” Sam snapped.

“Well, ain’t that too bad,” Dean drawled over him. “You’re missing out, Ham. Gwen’s a good woman and from what we’ve learned, Patricia and Neal treated her right. They raised her well.”

“It’s not too late,” Sam started.

“It is,” Ham insisted. “It was too late when they stole her instead of bringing her to us. If we’d known about her, we would’ve raised her proper.”

Ronnie stared at the coffee pot. “Is it too late though? Is it really?”

“She has questions and you’re the only two people who can give her answers.”

“She’s a Campbell, boy. I don’t give answers to Campbells.”

“Too late.” Sam stood. “There’s two on their mother’s side right here in front of you and I can tell you, if this is your attitude? I don’t want Gwen to meet you. I don’t want her to deal with your bullshit. Your granddaughter is a good woman and a good hunter. She’s beautiful and smart and you’re crazy not to want to get to know her, but hey….” He spread his arms. “No skin off my back. I’ll gladly tell her we found graves. The shit she’s found out the past year and the things she’s dealt with? No way she needs to come up against your stupid prejudice. Patty and Neal loved her like she was their own. They took her in and raised her the way Aaron wanted her raised. Maybe them taking her was best.”

“What things,” Ronnie asked, turning her attention to Dean. “What’s happened to her?”

“Mia tried to sacrifice her to bring Molek out of hell.” Dean hurried to finish his coffee. It looked like Sam was working up to one final bit and then he was sure their welcome would be completely worn out.

“Molek was the demon you told me she raised?”

“Yes.”

Ham shook his head, still glaring at Sam. “Insanity runs in that family. We’re pretty sure of it.”

“How awful!” Ronnie leaned forward.

“Tell me about it. I was there. That woman was bat shit, over the bend, looney tunes crazy.” Dean drained his cup. “We’re talking pissing in her own Wheaties here.”

“Terrible.” Ronnie shook her head. “Just terrible.”

Ham cleared his throat. “Ronnie, you wanna quit talking? They’re Campbell boys -- in case that’s escaped your notice, dear?”

Ronnie was ignoring Ham, which was fine with Dean, as she appeared to be in the middle of forming one hell of an attachment to Gwen without having met her yet. “She’s okay now, right?” The concern in her voice was maternal, anxious. “I mean, no health troubles? She’s fine?”

“Oh yeah. Clean bill of health.” Dean nodded. “Well…once we got the Alp Mia had created detached from her and destroyed.”

“Those things are fiction,” Ham spat out looking very much like he was sulking.

“Hell they are,” Sam snapped.

“Tell that to our base. Had a whole room destroyed trying to kill the thing.” Dean set his mug down, putting a hand over the mouth when Ronnie reached for the pot. “No thanks, Ronnie. I’ve hit my limit. Great coffee, by the way, and the coffeecake was delicious.” He turned his attention to Ham. “Then there was the Trickster that abducted her. You know, the Trickster we came to see you about? How about that box? You two seen it or are we wasting all our time here?”

“Just like a Campbell,” Ham snorted.

“Excuse me?” Sam’s hands came to rest on his hips. “What’s that supposed to mean? We’re here to try to find that box and save her life.”

“You’d use us to do it.”

Sam blew out a frustrated breath. “We’d use the box Aaron filled with Trickster magic. How is that using you?”

“If it’s in our possession.”

“We’re asking for it.”

“And you’d steal it if we have it and say no.”

“I want my girlfriend to live without fear of a Trickster kidnapping her again!”

Dean cleared his throat. “Wouldn’t you, Ham? If Ronnie was in Gwen’s place and you were in Sam’s? You’d do what you had to. You know you would. Don’t stay married to one woman as long as you have without occasionally doing whatever you have to to keep her safe.”

“Yeah? Why are you so keen to save her? She’s not your girlfriend.”

“But she’s Sam’s and that makes her one of my own. See, that’s what I was taught. You protect your family. She’s family as much as my brother, my wife, and my son, and even my wife’s mother and a few other people. I’ll do what I gotta, Ham. I protect my own.”

Sam snorted. “Come on, Dean, we’re leaving. They won’t help us. How could they possibly? We’re Campbell blood. Ooh, must be evil through and through. Don’t touch anything on the way out, we wouldn’t want to contaminate their space with our Campbell cooties.” Sam turned on his heel and left.

Dean had to admire the use of sarcasm and stood. “Nice to see you again, Calamity. Ham, I won’t say it’s been a pleasure to meet you, but it’s been…interesting. Thanks for the hospitality. I’ll see myself out.”

As Dean closed the door, he heard Ronnie’s voice say, “Abraham Alan Bennett, you get your head out of your ass! She’s Aaron’s child!”

In the car, he looked at Sam, who was still seething. “Well, that was a hoot.”

“Idiot.”

“Now I know I’ve done some stupid things in my life --”

“Not you, Dean.” He sighed. “Bennett. Idiot. Prejudiced old --”

“Resource?”

“Jackass.”

“Don’t hold back, Sam. Tell me how you feel.”

“He won’t even think about helping her, his own blood!”

“Sounds disgustingly familiar, doesn’t it?”

“Tell me all old hunters aren’t like that with their families.”

“All old hunters aren’t like that with their families.” He started the car.

“You’re just saying that.” Sam tapped his fingers on his knees.

“Yup.” Dean was about to put the car in gear when Ham appeared at the window. He rolled it down. “Yeah?”

Hem bent and proffered a business sized envelope. “Here.”

“What’s this?”

“When Aaron went into the business, I got him a storage unit to put things in. Family tradition of sorts, older generation helping the younger ones just starting out. I never looked in it to see what he put there and I’m sure he gave those Campbells a copy of the key.”

Sam snorted and Dean tried to keep his own temper down. “So?”

“So, Ronnie is right. Like who raised her or not, she’s kin and she’s in the family business. Aaron wasn’t around to get her a storage place, so she can have his. I’ll keep paying on it like I have been.”

It was a weird sort of olive branch and probably all Ronnie could get him to agree to at present. He didn’t want to meet her, but he’d help her in the family business. Dean took the envelope and handed it to Sam.

“Look, boys, I know the sort of good you two have done. It’s been all over and reached us out here.”

“Just for the record, there aren’t many Campbells we claim as kin ourselves.” Dean held his gaze a long moment. “We’ve had our own trouble with that side of the family.”

“We’re Winchesters,” Sam told him. “That’s who we are and that’s how we were raised.”

Slowly, Ham nodded. “I think I remember your father. John, wasn’t it? Ronnie liked him.”

“Ronnie seems to like a lot of people,” Dean pointed out.

Ham’s expression softened. “It’s that sunny side she has. She sees the glass half full every time.” He half laughed. “Pollyanna morning, noon, and night. Woman’s a regular sunshine factory most days.”

Dean blinked and glanced at Sam in time to see Sam’s surprise at the name. Interesting. Pollyanna was what Sam called Gwen and had since before he’d gotten his soul back.

“Hell, maybe Gwen is worth knowing and meeting, but I’m old and set in my ways. She’ll never miss not knowing my crusty old ass.”

“Will Ronnie miss not knowing her?”

Ham’s lips tightened into an annoyed frown and he tapped the car door lightly with his fist. “You give her that information.” Turning, he stalked back into the house.

Dean maneuvered them back onto a main road. Sam was already looking up the address. He’d find out everything there was to know about it and when they got back, they’d present it to Gwen. Dean hoped they’d finally hit pay dirt. At this point, he was beginning to think the box was unreachable.

Before they’d even gotten their bags from the car, Sam was going into the house through the kitchen door, calling for Gwen. Dean followed him.

She appeared from the living room, putting a finger to her lips. “Quiet. Jo’s on the phone.”

“Here.” Sam thrust the envelope with the information and key at her.

Gwen took it and opened it, frowning in confusion. “What’s this?” She drew out the key and held it up.

“Another storage unit.”

“Another one?” She returned the key to the envelope. “You found a key and directions at the place you two went to check out?” Her eyes narrowed, suspicion in her eyes, and a half smile on her lips. “Is this some kind of elaborate joke? Just tell me now and we can all pretend I ran around like an idiot and you got a good laugh.”

“It’s not a joke. We did find it there. Why don’t you check it out for us?”

“What, like now?”

“Why not?”

“Well, because Jo’s on the phone with Sophie and we’re thinking about meeting up with her and giving her moral support.”

“What’s going on,” Sam asked. He took a couple steps towards the living room.

“Mick showed up.”

“Wait, what?” Sam peered into the front room at Jo. She was pacing, talking in hushed tones. “What do you mean he showed up?”

Dean’s question exactly. What had Mick been doing for three months?

“I mean he showed up. She said he just knocked on her motel room door and gave her some song and dance about not knowing where he’s been since Christmas.”

Sam glanced at her, then returned to watching Jo pace. “He’s been missing for three months.”

“Uh…I know.”

“Demon,” Dean asked. “He get jumped?”

“He told her he doesn’t remember anything and she’s all upset and wants us to come give her moral support while they talk things through.”

“Seriously?” Dean took off his jacket. “You’re thinking of driving hours to wherever they are just to watch Sophie grill Mick?”

“We are.”

“Jo can handle it.” Sam turned to face them. “Let her go and you go to the unit.”

Gwen groaned, her shoulders slumping. She leaned against the counter. “Sam, I’m tired of searching storage units. I need to go do something completely unrelated to supernatural trouble. This is a domestic thing.”

“I’d take the storage unit,” Dean interjected.

She eyed him a long moment. “You know something I don’t?”

He thought about giving her a smartass answer and changed his mind at the last second. “There’s a good chance the box is there is all. Come on. Hidden key and directions? How could it not be something special?”

Gwen sighed. “You’re going to keep bugging me until I go, aren’t you?”

“Possibly.”

She rolled her eyes. “Fine. I’ll go get packed.”

Dean stepped into the living room to listen to Jo’s end of the conversation with Sophie. He moved to the crib and picked up his son.

~~~~~~~~~~

Sam was heading into his room to help Gwen pack when Dean put a hand out, stopping him.

“Go with Jo. Please?”

“Um…yeah. Sure. Why?”

“Do the tests on Mick.”

“I’m sure Sophie already did, Dean.”

“Maybe. I’d feel better about it if you’d go.”

“Why don’t you go?” He retracted the question almost immediately, noting the way Dean was gently patting Jack’s back as Jack nodded off to sleep against his shoulder. Dean wanted time with his son. “Never mind. I’ll go. But no comments about me being one of the girls. This was your idea.”

He helped Gwen to pack and gave her a long kiss goodbye outside at her car. “Be careful,” he told her, grasping her hips and holding her against him.

“I will.” She smoothed her hands across his chest under the edges of his coat. “I’ll be very careful. I know how to drive in this weather.”

‘This’ referred to the distinct possibility that there was still snow and ice on many Colorado roads. “Call when you get there?”

“I’ll try. Reception isn’t ever very good there because of the mountains.”

“So get a motel room and call from there.”

“Okay.” She raised up on tiptoe and kissed him again. “I’ll call when I get there. You be careful too and don’t let Jo and Sophie be too hard on Mick?”

He watched her drive away with a slight misgiving in his chest. He really didn’t want to become embroiled in Sophie and Mick’s relationship drama, which was what the whole thing sounded like from what Jo had been told. Sophie thought Mick had run around on her and was hiding it and so on with the accusations. He wasn’t sure a twelve hour drive was worth having to listen to that once they got there, but Jo was determined to go and Dean wanted him to guard Jo, so off they went.

Sam made a silent prayer that Gwen would be safe as he and Jo headed out on the road.

~~~~~~~~~~

The creature that had been Mick, and was really liking being Mick right now, ended the call. “There now. That wasn’t so difficult, was it Soph.?” He tugged the gag down so she could talk.

Her lips parted. He admired the beautiful cut he’d put across her cheek and the split in her lower lip still crusted with dried blood. “What are you?” Her voice gave only the barest hint of the terror she was trying to hide from him.

“I’m shadow and darkness, baby.” He grinned, sliding a finger along her other cheek. Soft skin, so very soft, but he couldn’t rip into it like he wanted, not yet. Later. Later he’d feast on her. “I’m what you see out of the corner of your eye that disappears when you try to see it straight on. I’m the shadow that isn’t really there that creeps in and steals your soul.”

“Demon.”

“They wish they could be me. Kill one of them and it means nothing on this earth. Kill me….” He laughed. “It’d be very bad if I went away for good. I’m part of this place, but I’m out, and as soon as I clean up a little problem, I’m never going away ever again.” He put the gag back on her. “In the meantime…. I’ll take as many hunters as I can, starting with your friends.”

He’d start with the hunters and work his way to their prey. Really, there was little difference between the two to him. He didn’t care which he fed on and each feeding made him stronger.

He was learning about the changes in the world. So many beautiful changes that he could use to his advantage. If only he could break through the barrier in Mick’s mind to use his knowledge of them. The man was stubborn and while he was strong of will, Mick hadn’t been strong enough to keep him out. It was only a matter of time before he picked the lock to Mick’s brain and then all the man knew would be open to him.