Five
Angels and Demons cont'd
By morning, they were all checked out of the motel and back on their way to South Dakota. Bobby's house had always been somewhat of a safe haven since their Dad had died, and now was no exception to that feeling. Dean and Sam still had a few loose ends to tie up where Mary was concerned, but they'd both agreed on one. As long as she was with them, she was safe. And there was no need for them to have anyone to make it official. But if a cop or a social worker ever got involved, neither Dean nor Sam wanted anything taking her away from them. And there was only one way to make sure no one ever did. So after some well-earned rest, Dean and Sam gathered Mary and Adam in the car and headed back to New York.
Though Bobby would always feel like family, he would always be like an uncle they always wanted. But his place was at the Salvage Yard. Dean and Sam's place was on the road. Now they were finally going to make two permanent additions to their family. And Eleanor . . . well, she was going to hang around at Bobby's until Cas returned to finish what Bobby had started. She also promised Mary that things were going to be different now.
The 20-hour drive only took Dean ten, just as it had days earlier, and they pulled into Highland, New York just after nine a.m. six days after leaving. They'd all dressed up, since they did have an appointment. And Sam climbed out of the car first, looking around and spotting the dark-haired, blue-eyed woman he was looking for as she sat on the front steps of the courthouse. While Dean collected Mary and Adam, Sam moved up the steps toward her, noting how much she still looked like the young art dealer he'd met eight years earlier while on a job in New Paltz, which wasn't that far away.
"Sarah," he said, unceremoniously announcing himself.
She lifted her gaze toward his, sighing heavily. "Where have you been?" she demanded quietly. "You should have been half an hour ago."
"What can I say?" he shrugged, watching her rise to face him. "Traffic?"
Her scowl slowly turned into a smile, and she stepped forward, wrapping her arms around him. "It's good to see you," she exclaimed. "My God, you look amazing."
Sam squeezed her tightly, thankful that she was okay and happy that she was happy to see him. "It's good to see you too," he whispered to her. "I'm really glad you're okay."
She leaned back to look at him, appraising him quickly. "Very smooth, Sam," she said as Dean and Adam eased up the steps with Mary between them.
Sarah turned to them slowly, her face turning gentle. "And this must be Mary," she said softly, extending her hand slowly. "I'm Sarah."
Mary took her hand. "Hello. You're pretty."
Sarah blushed, rising to face Dean. He tipped his head, grinning widely. "Dean," she said, stepping forward and kissing his cheek.
Dean smiled, giggling softly. "Good to see you too, Sarah."
Sarah smiled at Adam, even though she'd never met him, and then she turned to Sam. "All right," she said. "Let's go. The judge won't wait forever for this."
With that, they all walked up the steps to the front doors of the courthouse as it laid quiet from court having already gone into session. Sarah led them toward a staircase, and they all followed her to an office on the second level. Justice Warren Peirce was inscribed over the door in big, bold letters. Sarah knocked, and a low, booming voice emanated from inside the room.
"Enter!"
Gently, she opened the door, turning to Dean and Sam. "You should probably leave her out here with Adam for right now. He'll want to talk to the two of you first."
Dean looked at Sam, and they looked at Mary before following Sarah into the office while Adam stayed in the hall with Mary.
The inside of the office looked massive. It was definitely the largest office Sam had ever been in, and the walls were lined with books. Sam was immediately reminded of his days in college when he'd wanted to go to law school. Now those days felt like a million years ago. For a few seconds, as they all sat down in front of the desk in the middle of room, Sam was worried this might not go the way they wanted it to.
The man sitting at the desk didn't look any older than sixty-five, and that was young by today's terms. His face was slightly wrinkled but friendly, and when he looked up, his brown eyes were serious but warm. Sam exhaled when he looked into the man's face. Maybe everything would be okay.
"Ms. Blake," Judge Peirce said. "You do realize this had no precedence."
"Yes, Judge Peirce, but if I may," she said, moving to his side with her briefcase and pulling out several manila folders. "Ms. Thompson has no living relatives. She has no means to support herself, and she's been traumatized by the deaths of her parents. I know I'm new at this, but Dean and Sam Winchester are two of the most honorable men I've ever met. And when they found Mary, their first instincts were to protect her. They've cared for her the last few days, and they seem to genuinely want to take care of her beyond now. Plus, there are police reports from Sheriff Donald Harvey and signed affidavits from several members of Mary's community who've all stated these men as being her guardians. I see no reason why she should be taken into the custody of the state when there are two very capable men here willing to take care of her and raise her in a normal, capable environment."
For a few minutes after she finished, Sam was afraid she'd overdone it. There really was no reason for any judge to do what they were wanting. Sam and Dean weren't related to Mary, and they technically had no right to have her in their lives. But she was alone in the world. Sam and Dean knew what that felt like, and so did Adam. The only people they were ever going to have was each other. This was the only way Sam and Dean could think of to make it official. Unbreakable. Permanent. Like family.
The judge was quiet another few minutes. Then he spoke.
"This is just very unusual," he said, and Sam caught his breath. "You realize I have to think of the best environment for this young girl, and leaving her in the care of two men who have no permanent address doesn't seem like the best environment. Children need stability. They need structure. How do you plan on giving this to her?"
Sam looked at Dean, and for several seconds, they were both speechless. But Dean laughed nervously, speaking — or rather, stammering softly.
"Do you ask these questions to all the new parents?" he asked, watching the judge's eyes turn serious, and he closed his mouth.
Sam tried to intervene. "What he means to ask is, how are we supposed to know what to do?" he asked, glancing at Dean and seeing him nod encouragingly. "I don't know a lot about being a parent, but I know what Mary needs. Isn't that good enough?"
"Young man, when the well-being of a child is concerned, simply knowing what they need is never enough. You have to anticipate when things might go wrong. She's healthy and happy now, but a few years from now when she enters puberty and has questions you don't have answers to, what will you do? Being a parent, even a guardian, is a full-time job. You have to commit to it completely. Do you plan to do this with Miss Thompson?"
"To the best of my ability," Sam promised.
The judge lifted his eyebrows dramatically. "Of course."
For a minute, no one said anything as the judge wrote over the file in front of him. Then Dean spoke. "Is that it?" he asked. "You're gonna ask us one measly question and judge us accordingly?"
Judge Peirce took off his reading glasses, staring Dean down intensely. "Does it or does it not say ‘judge' on my door, son?"
Dean retreated. "Sorry."
Finally, the judge sighed. "I'm not going to say you don't care for this girl," he began. "It's very clear you do. And I'm aware that you both seem to have never done this before, so it's natural for you to not know how to answer my questions. I understand that. But you both have to understand that from this moment on, the most important thing to you should be the safety of that little girl. Whatever trip you boys are on has got to stop where she is concerned. Do I make myself clear?"
"Yes, sir," Dean nodded, confused.
"Sir?" Sam said.
"I was only making for certain you boys knew what you were gettin' yourselves into," Judge Peirce said. "The fact of the matter is, Mary Thompson doesn't have any living relatives. And I would very much rather grant custody of her to two people who obviously want to care for her than to place her in foster care for what could be a very long time. So like I said, her well-being will be your concern from this moment on." He finished writing in the file, closing it and then handing it back to Sarah. "Congratulations," he said. "It's a girl."
Sam let out the deep breath he'd been holding in, and Dean did too. The judge smiled, rising slowly, and they followed him. Dean reached out to shake the man's hand, having never faced a judge like this before and never really wanting to ever again.
"Thank you," Dean said earnestly. "I think you just made me the happiest guy on the planet. Really."
"It's my pleasure, son. Just do what I said, and everything will be okay. I'm sure you'll do your best."
Dean faced Sam, and for the first time in a very long time, the older Winchester embraced the younger for no other reason than just sheer joy. And while Sarah got all the rest of the paperwork signed and finalized, the two elder Winchesters stepped into the hallway where Mary and Adam were waiting. Their younger brother looked at them immediately.
"Well?" he asked.
Dean looked at Sam, and the younger Winchester nodded in Mary's direction. Dean stepped forward happily, reaching for her and taking her in his arms like any father would embrace his new child. Sam looked on contentedly, and when Dean leaned back, he looked at Sam.
"I don't know, Sammy," he said. "Does she look like a Winchester to you?"
Sam smiled. "Actually, she does," he gushed.
Mary's brilliant green eyes lit up. "Really?" she exclaimed.
"Yes," Sam confirmed excitedly.
Mary leapt off the bench she'd been sitting on, hurtling herself into Sam's arms, and he caught her just in time, holding her against him as he had upon her exiting the storm drain just two night previous. She held him just as tight, and it was obvious to Sam that this was going to become one of the happiest moments of his life.
Carefully, Mary reached for Dean, and he took her in his arms again to hold her as Sarah exited the judge's office.
"Okay," she said, moving to Sam's said and easing her arm around his waist. "We're almost finished. We just have to take these papers over to the vital records office. She'll need new documents. Real ones," she said to Sam, since it was obvious she knew all about the fake i.d.'s and credit cards.
To that, Sam blushed, looking on at his older brother completely dote on the newest member of their family. Sam had never seen Dean look so happy, and after having talked to Lisa in the last two days and found her to be okay, it was clear a heavy weight had been lifted off Dean's chest. In fact, he looked practically buoyant.
Two days later, on a stretch of back roads far away from any civilization, the distinct ping of metal hitting metal echoed through the air, indicating that someone was obviously doing target practice on some very unsuspecting tin cans. Woods and brush, turning green with approach of spring lay muddy and thick from a recent rain, and the old chain link fence was a perfect place to settle most of the tools needed for this particular stop. Among the items laid out were two knives, still sheathed in their scabbards, a sawed-off rifle that looked about twenty years old, and two guns — an antique revolver with a pentacle carved into the handle and a 9 mm Beretta pistol with ivory inlays on the handle.
Three more pings polluted the air, and a voice followed.
"That's good," Dean said, observing Adam from about three feet away. "But drop you left shoulder. Cradle the handle in your palm, but keep a firm grip. You don't want anybody knocking it out of your hand like this," he demonstrated, grabbing Adam's wrist and easily knocking the gun in his hand to the ground.
Adam sighed, and Dean did too. With no words, Adam simply picked the gun back up and began again.
About twenty feet away, Sam crouched next to Mary, allowing her to hold the crossbow his father had shown him when he'd been her age. She lifted the bow to her chest, aiming down the sight and squeezing the trigger easily to release the arrow. With a deep thunk, the arrow hit its mark, probably three centimeters from the middle.
Sam smiled. "That's amazing," he exclaimed. "I only had to show you once. Guess Cas was right about your learning curve."
"Did you hit the target on your first try?" she asked, taking another arrow and reloading the bow.
"No," Sam admitted. "But trust me, I got better. Do one more."
She lifted the bow again, repeating her previous performance only to get the arrow a little closer to the center of the target. Sam laughed softly, and Mary lowered the bow.
"My Dad was going to take me hunting," she said softly. "For Deer and stuff. At least, I'm pretty sure that's what he meant."
Sam looked at her, seeing a sad look in her eyes, and he lowered his knees to the ground, beckoning her to sit on his lap as he put the bow away. "Why didn't he?" Sam asked softly.
She left her eyes to Sam's. "After they told me, they were scared something would happen to me. They didn't want me to get hurt. So they locked me in my room with salt and Devil's Traps. Nothing was supposed to get to me there. But I still dreamed. Of her."
Sam sighed, glancing back to see Dean still instructing Adam. "Your parents loved you, Mary. They would have given their lives to make sure you were protected, and in a way, they did protect you. They loved you. Mary, I love you. So does Dean. So does Adam. And we're gonna protect you now. Okay?"
She inhaled deeply, nodding slowly. "Okay."
"Hey, you two stop lollygagging," Dean commanded, a wide smile on his face. "I'm starvin'. Let's go find somewhere to eat."
"We'll be right there," Sam promised. Then he looked at Mary. "Come on," he whispered. "Let's go."
She smiled easily, rising and then helping Sam collect the bow and arrows before they met Dean and Adam at the car. They all piled in slowly, and Dean turned back onto the road, switching on the radio and finding a good classic rock station to fill the air as they headed south toward destinations unknown.
For now, that was good enough.
Angels and Demons cont'd
By morning, they were all checked out of the motel and back on their way to South Dakota. Bobby's house had always been somewhat of a safe haven since their Dad had died, and now was no exception to that feeling. Dean and Sam still had a few loose ends to tie up where Mary was concerned, but they'd both agreed on one. As long as she was with them, she was safe. And there was no need for them to have anyone to make it official. But if a cop or a social worker ever got involved, neither Dean nor Sam wanted anything taking her away from them. And there was only one way to make sure no one ever did. So after some well-earned rest, Dean and Sam gathered Mary and Adam in the car and headed back to New York.
Though Bobby would always feel like family, he would always be like an uncle they always wanted. But his place was at the Salvage Yard. Dean and Sam's place was on the road. Now they were finally going to make two permanent additions to their family. And Eleanor . . . well, she was going to hang around at Bobby's until Cas returned to finish what Bobby had started. She also promised Mary that things were going to be different now.
The 20-hour drive only took Dean ten, just as it had days earlier, and they pulled into Highland, New York just after nine a.m. six days after leaving. They'd all dressed up, since they did have an appointment. And Sam climbed out of the car first, looking around and spotting the dark-haired, blue-eyed woman he was looking for as she sat on the front steps of the courthouse. While Dean collected Mary and Adam, Sam moved up the steps toward her, noting how much she still looked like the young art dealer he'd met eight years earlier while on a job in New Paltz, which wasn't that far away.
"Sarah," he said, unceremoniously announcing himself.
She lifted her gaze toward his, sighing heavily. "Where have you been?" she demanded quietly. "You should have been half an hour ago."
"What can I say?" he shrugged, watching her rise to face him. "Traffic?"
Her scowl slowly turned into a smile, and she stepped forward, wrapping her arms around him. "It's good to see you," she exclaimed. "My God, you look amazing."
Sam squeezed her tightly, thankful that she was okay and happy that she was happy to see him. "It's good to see you too," he whispered to her. "I'm really glad you're okay."
She leaned back to look at him, appraising him quickly. "Very smooth, Sam," she said as Dean and Adam eased up the steps with Mary between them.
Sarah turned to them slowly, her face turning gentle. "And this must be Mary," she said softly, extending her hand slowly. "I'm Sarah."
Mary took her hand. "Hello. You're pretty."
Sarah blushed, rising to face Dean. He tipped his head, grinning widely. "Dean," she said, stepping forward and kissing his cheek.
Dean smiled, giggling softly. "Good to see you too, Sarah."
Sarah smiled at Adam, even though she'd never met him, and then she turned to Sam. "All right," she said. "Let's go. The judge won't wait forever for this."
With that, they all walked up the steps to the front doors of the courthouse as it laid quiet from court having already gone into session. Sarah led them toward a staircase, and they all followed her to an office on the second level. Justice Warren Peirce was inscribed over the door in big, bold letters. Sarah knocked, and a low, booming voice emanated from inside the room.
"Enter!"
Gently, she opened the door, turning to Dean and Sam. "You should probably leave her out here with Adam for right now. He'll want to talk to the two of you first."
Dean looked at Sam, and they looked at Mary before following Sarah into the office while Adam stayed in the hall with Mary.
The inside of the office looked massive. It was definitely the largest office Sam had ever been in, and the walls were lined with books. Sam was immediately reminded of his days in college when he'd wanted to go to law school. Now those days felt like a million years ago. For a few seconds, as they all sat down in front of the desk in the middle of room, Sam was worried this might not go the way they wanted it to.
The man sitting at the desk didn't look any older than sixty-five, and that was young by today's terms. His face was slightly wrinkled but friendly, and when he looked up, his brown eyes were serious but warm. Sam exhaled when he looked into the man's face. Maybe everything would be okay.
"Ms. Blake," Judge Peirce said. "You do realize this had no precedence."
"Yes, Judge Peirce, but if I may," she said, moving to his side with her briefcase and pulling out several manila folders. "Ms. Thompson has no living relatives. She has no means to support herself, and she's been traumatized by the deaths of her parents. I know I'm new at this, but Dean and Sam Winchester are two of the most honorable men I've ever met. And when they found Mary, their first instincts were to protect her. They've cared for her the last few days, and they seem to genuinely want to take care of her beyond now. Plus, there are police reports from Sheriff Donald Harvey and signed affidavits from several members of Mary's community who've all stated these men as being her guardians. I see no reason why she should be taken into the custody of the state when there are two very capable men here willing to take care of her and raise her in a normal, capable environment."
For a few minutes after she finished, Sam was afraid she'd overdone it. There really was no reason for any judge to do what they were wanting. Sam and Dean weren't related to Mary, and they technically had no right to have her in their lives. But she was alone in the world. Sam and Dean knew what that felt like, and so did Adam. The only people they were ever going to have was each other. This was the only way Sam and Dean could think of to make it official. Unbreakable. Permanent. Like family.
The judge was quiet another few minutes. Then he spoke.
"This is just very unusual," he said, and Sam caught his breath. "You realize I have to think of the best environment for this young girl, and leaving her in the care of two men who have no permanent address doesn't seem like the best environment. Children need stability. They need structure. How do you plan on giving this to her?"
Sam looked at Dean, and for several seconds, they were both speechless. But Dean laughed nervously, speaking — or rather, stammering softly.
"Do you ask these questions to all the new parents?" he asked, watching the judge's eyes turn serious, and he closed his mouth.
Sam tried to intervene. "What he means to ask is, how are we supposed to know what to do?" he asked, glancing at Dean and seeing him nod encouragingly. "I don't know a lot about being a parent, but I know what Mary needs. Isn't that good enough?"
"Young man, when the well-being of a child is concerned, simply knowing what they need is never enough. You have to anticipate when things might go wrong. She's healthy and happy now, but a few years from now when she enters puberty and has questions you don't have answers to, what will you do? Being a parent, even a guardian, is a full-time job. You have to commit to it completely. Do you plan to do this with Miss Thompson?"
"To the best of my ability," Sam promised.
The judge lifted his eyebrows dramatically. "Of course."
For a minute, no one said anything as the judge wrote over the file in front of him. Then Dean spoke. "Is that it?" he asked. "You're gonna ask us one measly question and judge us accordingly?"
Judge Peirce took off his reading glasses, staring Dean down intensely. "Does it or does it not say ‘judge' on my door, son?"
Dean retreated. "Sorry."
Finally, the judge sighed. "I'm not going to say you don't care for this girl," he began. "It's very clear you do. And I'm aware that you both seem to have never done this before, so it's natural for you to not know how to answer my questions. I understand that. But you both have to understand that from this moment on, the most important thing to you should be the safety of that little girl. Whatever trip you boys are on has got to stop where she is concerned. Do I make myself clear?"
"Yes, sir," Dean nodded, confused.
"Sir?" Sam said.
"I was only making for certain you boys knew what you were gettin' yourselves into," Judge Peirce said. "The fact of the matter is, Mary Thompson doesn't have any living relatives. And I would very much rather grant custody of her to two people who obviously want to care for her than to place her in foster care for what could be a very long time. So like I said, her well-being will be your concern from this moment on." He finished writing in the file, closing it and then handing it back to Sarah. "Congratulations," he said. "It's a girl."
Sam let out the deep breath he'd been holding in, and Dean did too. The judge smiled, rising slowly, and they followed him. Dean reached out to shake the man's hand, having never faced a judge like this before and never really wanting to ever again.
"Thank you," Dean said earnestly. "I think you just made me the happiest guy on the planet. Really."
"It's my pleasure, son. Just do what I said, and everything will be okay. I'm sure you'll do your best."
Dean faced Sam, and for the first time in a very long time, the older Winchester embraced the younger for no other reason than just sheer joy. And while Sarah got all the rest of the paperwork signed and finalized, the two elder Winchesters stepped into the hallway where Mary and Adam were waiting. Their younger brother looked at them immediately.
"Well?" he asked.
Dean looked at Sam, and the younger Winchester nodded in Mary's direction. Dean stepped forward happily, reaching for her and taking her in his arms like any father would embrace his new child. Sam looked on contentedly, and when Dean leaned back, he looked at Sam.
"I don't know, Sammy," he said. "Does she look like a Winchester to you?"
Sam smiled. "Actually, she does," he gushed.
Mary's brilliant green eyes lit up. "Really?" she exclaimed.
"Yes," Sam confirmed excitedly.
Mary leapt off the bench she'd been sitting on, hurtling herself into Sam's arms, and he caught her just in time, holding her against him as he had upon her exiting the storm drain just two night previous. She held him just as tight, and it was obvious to Sam that this was going to become one of the happiest moments of his life.
Carefully, Mary reached for Dean, and he took her in his arms again to hold her as Sarah exited the judge's office.
"Okay," she said, moving to Sam's said and easing her arm around his waist. "We're almost finished. We just have to take these papers over to the vital records office. She'll need new documents. Real ones," she said to Sam, since it was obvious she knew all about the fake i.d.'s and credit cards.
To that, Sam blushed, looking on at his older brother completely dote on the newest member of their family. Sam had never seen Dean look so happy, and after having talked to Lisa in the last two days and found her to be okay, it was clear a heavy weight had been lifted off Dean's chest. In fact, he looked practically buoyant.
Two days later, on a stretch of back roads far away from any civilization, the distinct ping of metal hitting metal echoed through the air, indicating that someone was obviously doing target practice on some very unsuspecting tin cans. Woods and brush, turning green with approach of spring lay muddy and thick from a recent rain, and the old chain link fence was a perfect place to settle most of the tools needed for this particular stop. Among the items laid out were two knives, still sheathed in their scabbards, a sawed-off rifle that looked about twenty years old, and two guns — an antique revolver with a pentacle carved into the handle and a 9 mm Beretta pistol with ivory inlays on the handle.
Three more pings polluted the air, and a voice followed.
"That's good," Dean said, observing Adam from about three feet away. "But drop you left shoulder. Cradle the handle in your palm, but keep a firm grip. You don't want anybody knocking it out of your hand like this," he demonstrated, grabbing Adam's wrist and easily knocking the gun in his hand to the ground.
Adam sighed, and Dean did too. With no words, Adam simply picked the gun back up and began again.
About twenty feet away, Sam crouched next to Mary, allowing her to hold the crossbow his father had shown him when he'd been her age. She lifted the bow to her chest, aiming down the sight and squeezing the trigger easily to release the arrow. With a deep thunk, the arrow hit its mark, probably three centimeters from the middle.
Sam smiled. "That's amazing," he exclaimed. "I only had to show you once. Guess Cas was right about your learning curve."
"Did you hit the target on your first try?" she asked, taking another arrow and reloading the bow.
"No," Sam admitted. "But trust me, I got better. Do one more."
She lifted the bow again, repeating her previous performance only to get the arrow a little closer to the center of the target. Sam laughed softly, and Mary lowered the bow.
"My Dad was going to take me hunting," she said softly. "For Deer and stuff. At least, I'm pretty sure that's what he meant."
Sam looked at her, seeing a sad look in her eyes, and he lowered his knees to the ground, beckoning her to sit on his lap as he put the bow away. "Why didn't he?" Sam asked softly.
She left her eyes to Sam's. "After they told me, they were scared something would happen to me. They didn't want me to get hurt. So they locked me in my room with salt and Devil's Traps. Nothing was supposed to get to me there. But I still dreamed. Of her."
Sam sighed, glancing back to see Dean still instructing Adam. "Your parents loved you, Mary. They would have given their lives to make sure you were protected, and in a way, they did protect you. They loved you. Mary, I love you. So does Dean. So does Adam. And we're gonna protect you now. Okay?"
She inhaled deeply, nodding slowly. "Okay."
"Hey, you two stop lollygagging," Dean commanded, a wide smile on his face. "I'm starvin'. Let's go find somewhere to eat."
"We'll be right there," Sam promised. Then he looked at Mary. "Come on," he whispered. "Let's go."
She smiled easily, rising and then helping Sam collect the bow and arrows before they met Dean and Adam at the car. They all piled in slowly, and Dean turned back onto the road, switching on the radio and finding a good classic rock station to fill the air as they headed south toward destinations unknown.
For now, that was good enough.
