A Case of Do or Die 8/8
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Epilogue
The Beginning of a Beautiful Friendship
October 12, 1997
Dean hated this time of year.
It had been bad enough having Mom’s death hanging over them every November 2. But Dad’s death ten years ago just cast a pall over the entire month of October. Grandpa and Sammy and Dean still tried to go out to Stull to pay their respects every year at this time, and sometimes there were other hunters there doing the same thing, which gave them a chance to visit. Sometimes Gabriel would show up. So would Meg, who’d joined the ranks of hunters. Once there was even a vampire couple who’d gone vegetarian thanks to Dad, which was... strangely cool. But mostly, the pain of losing Dad overwhelmed everything else, even now. Not to mention Halloween—sure, it was safer now, with Hell locked down, but there were still plenty of things out there to hunt, and a lot of them still liked to come out and play around this time of year.
Sometimes Dean would take a hunt with Bobby just for the distraction. Sometimes Sam would go with them. Grandpa never tried to stop them.
Dean still didn’t know what he wanted to do with his life. Growing up learning about the Men of Letters and everything they had to teach was cool, and Sam really loved it, but Dean also relished the thrill of getting to go out and save people and hunt things. Grandpa admitted once that he hadn’t liked hunters all that much until he’d found Dad again and met Bobby, but when Dean explained what it was he liked about hunting, Grandpa seemed to understand and even approve. But Bobby approved of the Letters, too, especially once Grandpa gave him a standing invitation to come do research in their library, and he’d become the unofficial liaison between the Letters and hunters. Dean didn’t know if it would work to keep one foot in both worlds, but he figured it wouldn’t hurt to try, at least for a while.
He did know he wasn’t going to college and wasting his life in suburbia. Too much messed-up stuff happened in cities, and suburbs were for chumps. In that, he was very much his father’s son.
Today, though, he was faced with the more mundane task of picking up groceries for the week. He was searching the shelves for some weird thing Sammy wanted to try when a copper blur flashed past his peripheral vision, and he turned to find a red-haired girl who couldn’t have been much more than twelve hiding behind a display on the side near him, crouched low and peering fearfully past its edge to see if she was being pursued.
“Hey,” he said quietly. “You okay?”
She looked up at him, and her face was strangely familiar. “I’m not here,” she stage-whispered.
“What—”
“Cops.”
Abandoning the cart, he nonchalantly started browsing down the aisle past the display, which gave him a better vantage point from which to keep a lookout. And he watched as a couple of plainclothes officers came in, spoke to the clerks, didn’t get the answer they were looking for, and left. Then he found something he genuinely did need and brought it back to the cart. “All clear,” he told the girl.
She sagged against the shelves in relief.
“What’d you do?”
“Hacked a video game. Well, stole it, hacked it, and released it for free.”
His lips pursed in a silent impressed whistle. But something about the way she’d said that reminded him of something else, and he thought he finally recognized her. “Wait, is it D-Darl—”
“Charlie,” she answered quickly. “Charlie Bradbury, and I’m not from Topeka, and you don’t know me, and I’ve very definitely never been to Disneyland. And I like girls,” she added defensively.
He crouched in front of her so as to be more at eye level. “Where are your parents?”
Her face fell. “Dad’s dead. Mom’s in a coma. And it’s my fault.”
“How do you mean?”
“I was at a sleepover. I got scared, and I asked them to come get me. And on their way, they had a wreck.”
He pulled her into a hug. “I’m sorry.”
She hugged him back and cried for a moment.
“Kinda know what it’s like. Lost my parents a while back, too.”
“Sorry.”
He rubbed her back briefly and let her go. “You got someplace to stay?”
She shook her head.
He almost offered to take her to a motel or something, but then he remembered what she’d said about the video game and had an idea. “Listen. Do you dig, like, fantasy games and stuff?”
She nodded.
“What if I told you that monsters are real?”
Her eyes widened.
“And me and my brother, we hunt them. Sometimes.”
Her eyes widened more.
“But we’re also part of this secret society called the Men of Letters.”
“Well, that’s sexist.”
He chuckled. “Only ’cause the last woman was killed, like, forty years ago.”
“Ooh. Yikes.”
“Yeah. But me and Sam, we live with our grandpa in this really cool bunker. It’s like the Batcave, man. It’s got this huge library and a shooting range and everything.”
Her eyes lit up.
“Would you—don’t take this the wrong way or anything—but would you want to come live with us, maybe join the Letters? Kinda stinks bein’ in a club with only three people. And, like, there’s enough rooms that you could have your own space, not....”
“Not have to share with guys?”
“Right.”
She considered. “Is it a cool library?”
“It’s got scrolls.”
She squeaked happily and hugged him again. “Okay. I’m in.”
He helped her up. “Where’s your stuff?”
She pointed to her backpack.
He nodded. “Awesome. Go out the back; I’ll finish here and come pick you up.”
“Okay. Thanks—”
“Dean.”
“Dean. Spiff. I’ll....” She pointed toward the back of the store with her thumbs and took off.
As he quickly finished his own shopping, he wondered how she even remembered him from Disneyland. She couldn’t have been more than two, maybe three, at the time. But he and Sammy had thought she was cool then, and she didn’t seem to have changed, so it stood to reason that she’d be cool now. He didn’t mind helping a friend disappear, and he couldn’t think of a better place to disappear into than a bunker you couldn’t even really see until you walked up to it.
Something told him D—Charlie wouldn’t be the last stray he’d bring home to the Letters. Hell, maybe someday he’d even bring home a wife. Maybe Sam would, too. But that bunker was made to be lived in, and the Letters’ legacy needed to be revived somehow. And maybe... maybe having Charlie around would make October a little less gloomy for all of them.
A quote from Casablanca crossed his mind and made him chuckle as he left the checkout: Louie, I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship. Then he put the groceries in the Impala and drove back to pick Charlie up, whistling “La Marseillaise.”
The Beginning of a Beautiful Friendship
October 12, 1997
Dean hated this time of year.
It had been bad enough having Mom’s death hanging over them every November 2. But Dad’s death ten years ago just cast a pall over the entire month of October. Grandpa and Sammy and Dean still tried to go out to Stull to pay their respects every year at this time, and sometimes there were other hunters there doing the same thing, which gave them a chance to visit. Sometimes Gabriel would show up. So would Meg, who’d joined the ranks of hunters. Once there was even a vampire couple who’d gone vegetarian thanks to Dad, which was... strangely cool. But mostly, the pain of losing Dad overwhelmed everything else, even now. Not to mention Halloween—sure, it was safer now, with Hell locked down, but there were still plenty of things out there to hunt, and a lot of them still liked to come out and play around this time of year.
Sometimes Dean would take a hunt with Bobby just for the distraction. Sometimes Sam would go with them. Grandpa never tried to stop them.
Dean still didn’t know what he wanted to do with his life. Growing up learning about the Men of Letters and everything they had to teach was cool, and Sam really loved it, but Dean also relished the thrill of getting to go out and save people and hunt things. Grandpa admitted once that he hadn’t liked hunters all that much until he’d found Dad again and met Bobby, but when Dean explained what it was he liked about hunting, Grandpa seemed to understand and even approve. But Bobby approved of the Letters, too, especially once Grandpa gave him a standing invitation to come do research in their library, and he’d become the unofficial liaison between the Letters and hunters. Dean didn’t know if it would work to keep one foot in both worlds, but he figured it wouldn’t hurt to try, at least for a while.
He did know he wasn’t going to college and wasting his life in suburbia. Too much messed-up stuff happened in cities, and suburbs were for chumps. In that, he was very much his father’s son.
Today, though, he was faced with the more mundane task of picking up groceries for the week. He was searching the shelves for some weird thing Sammy wanted to try when a copper blur flashed past his peripheral vision, and he turned to find a red-haired girl who couldn’t have been much more than twelve hiding behind a display on the side near him, crouched low and peering fearfully past its edge to see if she was being pursued.
“Hey,” he said quietly. “You okay?”
She looked up at him, and her face was strangely familiar. “I’m not here,” she stage-whispered.
“What—”
“Cops.”
Abandoning the cart, he nonchalantly started browsing down the aisle past the display, which gave him a better vantage point from which to keep a lookout. And he watched as a couple of plainclothes officers came in, spoke to the clerks, didn’t get the answer they were looking for, and left. Then he found something he genuinely did need and brought it back to the cart. “All clear,” he told the girl.
She sagged against the shelves in relief.
“What’d you do?”
“Hacked a video game. Well, stole it, hacked it, and released it for free.”
His lips pursed in a silent impressed whistle. But something about the way she’d said that reminded him of something else, and he thought he finally recognized her. “Wait, is it D-Darl—”
“Charlie,” she answered quickly. “Charlie Bradbury, and I’m not from Topeka, and you don’t know me, and I’ve very definitely never been to Disneyland. And I like girls,” she added defensively.
He crouched in front of her so as to be more at eye level. “Where are your parents?”
Her face fell. “Dad’s dead. Mom’s in a coma. And it’s my fault.”
“How do you mean?”
“I was at a sleepover. I got scared, and I asked them to come get me. And on their way, they had a wreck.”
He pulled her into a hug. “I’m sorry.”
She hugged him back and cried for a moment.
“Kinda know what it’s like. Lost my parents a while back, too.”
“Sorry.”
He rubbed her back briefly and let her go. “You got someplace to stay?”
She shook her head.
He almost offered to take her to a motel or something, but then he remembered what she’d said about the video game and had an idea. “Listen. Do you dig, like, fantasy games and stuff?”
She nodded.
“What if I told you that monsters are real?”
Her eyes widened.
“And me and my brother, we hunt them. Sometimes.”
Her eyes widened more.
“But we’re also part of this secret society called the Men of Letters.”
“Well, that’s sexist.”
He chuckled. “Only ’cause the last woman was killed, like, forty years ago.”
“Ooh. Yikes.”
“Yeah. But me and Sam, we live with our grandpa in this really cool bunker. It’s like the Batcave, man. It’s got this huge library and a shooting range and everything.”
Her eyes lit up.
“Would you—don’t take this the wrong way or anything—but would you want to come live with us, maybe join the Letters? Kinda stinks bein’ in a club with only three people. And, like, there’s enough rooms that you could have your own space, not....”
“Not have to share with guys?”
“Right.”
She considered. “Is it a cool library?”
“It’s got scrolls.”
She squeaked happily and hugged him again. “Okay. I’m in.”
He helped her up. “Where’s your stuff?”
She pointed to her backpack.
He nodded. “Awesome. Go out the back; I’ll finish here and come pick you up.”
“Okay. Thanks—”
“Dean.”
“Dean. Spiff. I’ll....” She pointed toward the back of the store with her thumbs and took off.
As he quickly finished his own shopping, he wondered how she even remembered him from Disneyland. She couldn’t have been more than two, maybe three, at the time. But he and Sammy had thought she was cool then, and she didn’t seem to have changed, so it stood to reason that she’d be cool now. He didn’t mind helping a friend disappear, and he couldn’t think of a better place to disappear into than a bunker you couldn’t even really see until you walked up to it.
Something told him D—Charlie wouldn’t be the last stray he’d bring home to the Letters. Hell, maybe someday he’d even bring home a wife. Maybe Sam would, too. But that bunker was made to be lived in, and the Letters’ legacy needed to be revived somehow. And maybe... maybe having Charlie around would make October a little less gloomy for all of them.
A quote from Casablanca crossed his mind and made him chuckle as he left the checkout: Louie, I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship. Then he put the groceries in the Impala and drove back to pick Charlie up, whistling “La Marseillaise.”
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Date: 2013-11-13 10:09 pm (UTC)