Cassie Blake (tempestquill) wrote in cassidy_love,
Cassie Blake
tempestquill
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Fic: The Devil His Due (Cassidy/Veronica) PG-13

Title: The Devil His Due
Author: Tempestquill/Cassie
Characters: Cassidy/Veronica, Keith, Logan (mention), Dick, Mac, John Winchester, Missouri Mosely
Word Count: 5,597
Rating: PG-13
Warning: Language, Adult Theme/Content, Necrophelia (GHOST LOVING), AU, crack!fic
Summary: Dick still has no idea why they need him. He wishes he could have talked Logan into joining the freak show, cause he’d have gotten a bang out of all this hoo doo mumbo jumbo, but Logan’s been more of an asshole than usual ever since Ronnie turned up all knocked up Rosemary’s Baby style. So instead it is Dick, Mac, Ronnie, her dad, Cassidy, the freaky lady armed with a spoon, and the creepy old dude with a penchant for big knives.
Disclaimer: Veronica Mars belongs to Rob Thomas. Supernatural belongs to Eric Kripke.
Spoilers: Up to and including 2x22 and a general knowledge of Supernatural.
Notes: This story was written as a sequel to my fics Dance with the Devil and Devil's Trap because Lissa and my muse demanded it. It's my second foray into crossover and is now part 3 in a series, my Devil series. Originally this was going to be a trilogy, but this story did a complete u-turn on me, I was headed to Kansas and ended up in Oz. The next upcoming story in this series is "The Devil's Advocate" and will include more crossovery goodness with the boys of Supernatural! I swear the next story has Sam and Dean in it! HONEST! Seriously Dean and Sam deliver a baby! *gasp*

Lissa also beta read this, and she squeed to her little dark heart's content because this far surpassed her expectations or so she told me! She practically crushed me with a hug and flailed beyond belief when she realized I that Missouri Mosely was in it and tearing John a new one, or rather beating him with a spoon! I thought I was in for another trip to the hospital! So enjoy and don't forget to review as this is totally my second crossover EVER! Enjoy the crack!fic!


“The Devil his Due”
By C.K. Blake

Veronica Mars is sitting on the couch watching some old Columbo rerun and munching down on Fritos and chocolate syrup. Her dad has been gone now for over two weeks and Cassidy has been taking care of her through the exhaustion and morning sickness, which turns out to be more like morning, noon, and night sickness, and he really doesn’t want to repeat the fiasco of what happened with the sushi. She wanted sushi and then at the smell of it lost her appetite pronto. Raw fish and pregnancy do not mix. Actually any fish and pregnancy don’t mix, or at least this is just one of many conclusions that Cassidy has drawn from everything so far.

At the sound of a knock on the door Veronica looks up. Cassidy is busy with pasta in the kitchen, so with a shurg Veronica gets up from the couch, keeping the blanket around her because she’s been a little more cold than usual lately. She goes to the door, and knows it’s not her dad because he wouldn’t knock. He’d just come right on in.

She’s surprised to see the pleasant black woman standing at her door, a big smile on her face that quickly turns to an expression of concern as she says in a gentle, but somewhat high pitched voice, “Oh child, the devil’s got his due. Poor thing. I can only imagine the things your daddy’s goin’ through. Don’t you worry none. This will all work out, you’ll see. Now let me get a look at the baby’s daddy.”

“Excuse me?” Veronica asks and her blue eyes widen when she notices the bag at the woman’s feet.

The woman gives her a sharp look and replies, “I’m Missouri Mosely, Veronica, and your daddy is going to need my help with what he and John got planned. Now are you gonna let me in honey, or do I have to wait out here for another three hours till your daddy and John get here? They’re only just now crossing the state line. It’ll be a while waitin’ out here, and I’d like to get to know the young man we’re supposed to be helping.”

“Who’s John, and what are you talking about?” Veronica says.

Missouri gives her head a little shake. “And I thought John Winchester made a more lasting impression with the people he’s helped.”

“Winchester? Oh my God, are you talking about Sammy’s dad?”

“Well, I see you remember one Winchester. Sammy always was a sweet and sharp looking boy. Knew he’d grow up handsome. Wasn’t so sure about Dean though. He always was a goofy lookin’ kid,” Missouri replies with a fond smile.

Looking at the woman, Veronica makes a split second decision as Cassidy finally joins her at the door. She moves aside so that the woman can enter the apartment. Missouri puts her bag down by Keith’s chair, takes a seat in it, and then she looks at Cassidy and says, “Well boy, don’t let the noodles boil over on my account.”

Hearing the rocking of the pot on the stove Cassidy returns to cooking although he still spares the strange woman a few cautious glances. Veronica returns to the couch, and draws her knees up and simply looks at the dark skinned woman sitting in her dad’s chair. The woman gives her an appraising look and then reaches for Veronica’s hand.

As her warm, soft, dry hands close around Veronica’s the girl shivers a little and Missouri’s dark brown gaze meets Veronica’s blue eyes head on. “Oh child, you’ve been through a lot since your first kiss with John’s boy. Losing your best friend, the rape, nearly gettin' yourself killed too many times to count, and now this. You remind me a little of John’s boys with all the things you’ve face, cept your monsters have all been human till now.”

Veronica swallows reflexively. “How do you know all of that?”

Missouri gives a little smile. “I’m gifted, child. A little touch of insight. I’ve had it all my life. Now I’m guessing the baby’s daddy is the one who raped you. From what I could gather you did something a little foolish to get back a sense of security and now you’ve found yourself in this situation. I ain’t blaming you now. Ain’t much need for blaming as what’s done is done. Now tell me about your symptoms, how you’ve been feeling through the pregnancy.”

“Okay,” Veronica returns, giving her a skeptical look. “I get sick over the oddest things. Like fish makes me sick, and I can smell things like a bloodhound. My dog won’t come near me and he used to always sleep with me, and I’m tired all the time, and cold, and I get these weird cravings. Like chocolate syrup and fritos, and I’m definitely going to be adding some vinegrette dressing to my spagetti tonight.”

“Well aside from your dog keeping his distance and you being cold, sounds like a normal pregnancy to me. Your dog probably senses things of the supernatural nature, and your being cold is mostly because the baby’s daddy was a ghost when the child was conceived, so the baby needs to take up more warmth and energy than in a normal pregnancy, but a few blankets and some adjusting of the thermostat will help out with that. Now about the baby’s daddy…” Missouri is cut off by Cassidy.

“Why are you talking like I’m not here, and what about me?” he asks.

Missouri narrows her eyes on him and says, “Boy, ain’t you ever learned anything about manners? I’ll take a wooden spoon to your hide and don’t think I won’t! I’ve done it plenty of times to Dean Winchester and that boy’s got muscle on him, don’t think I can’t get at your scrawney little butt!”

“His butt’s not that scrawney,” Veronica mutters and then blushes as she realizes that they’ve heard her.

“I reckon not if your condition is anything to go by,” Missouri replies with a slight grin and Cassidy turns a rosy color.

Missouri makes a note of that as she senses the aura of a succubus lingering at the edges of the energy around the ghost boy. The boy’s mama being a full succubus has left lingering traits on him, but nothing that would turn him into a incubbus, just something that would attract attention, mostly male attention. There is something the boy is hiding from her. A reason why he did those things that she’s caught a glimpse of in Veronica’s mind and she wants to know about them before she helps give this boy back his life, his humanity.

----------

Keith slips out of his car and watches as John Winchester’s large frame steps out of his very big, black truck. John pulls out a large duffel bag as well and looks down at his cell phone. He shakes his head, pockets the phone and looks toward Keith as he shuts the door of his pick up and checks that his gun is still tucked into his jeans at the small of his back. He can feel the weight of the knife sheath against his left arm and knows that he is prepared, like a freaking boy scout he’s always prepared.

John gives him a pointed look and then Keith leads the way up the stairs and to his apartment. John looks around and sees just how far the proud former sheriff has fallen in Neptune. Last time he’d passed through Keith had a house, a wife, a daughter, the picturesque life John had always wanted for his boys. Looks like picturesque is for pansies and Hallmark commercials. From what John has gathered on the long drive back to Neptune and the few stops they made to eat, Keith only has Veronica now. Apparently he’s somewhere in between a divorce and a hard place. John doesn’t envy him that.

Once they reach the door, John reaches for his gun, and readies himself on one side. Keith gives him an odd look and says, “This is my home. I don’t think that’s necessary.”

John shrugs. “Call it caution Keith, but I’m always packing and I’m always prepared for anything. That’s how I live and how I taught my boys. Just going with what I know.”

“Okay, but please don’t shoot my daughter,” Keith replies stiffly.

“I can’t be held responsible for my actions if she pulls a Linda Blair on me,” John says with a chuckle and he flicks the safety back on the gun, and puts it away in the back of his pants again. “Fine, your house your rules, but I’m still packing. That’s as far as compromises go with me.”

“Thank you,” Keith replies with a narrow eyed look, then he unlocks the door and they enter his home.

John freezes shortly after stepping inside, and Keith looks around the taller man and notices a stranger sitting in his favorite chair talking to his daughter and the ghost boy. She looks up with a warm smile and then her eyes narrow on John Winchester.

“John Winchester! It sure took you long enough! Don’t even try to make excuses. If I wanted to know about a werewolf I’d watch a horror movie! Oh, and Keith congratulations on becoming a grandfather. I’ve heard nothing but good things, so don’t you go worrying yourself. You’ve got a wonderful daughter. She could learn a little bit more about manners, but she’s not nearly as bad as John’s oldest boy, Dean,” Missouri said, and Keith liked her immediately, because it took a hell of a person to knock John Winchester down a peg or two, and the man actually looked cowed.

John shook his head to clear it and then a smile cracked across his rugged features. “Mizzy! I should’ve known you’d beat me here! I’ve been trying to call you since yesterday. Usually you give some warning, what happened this time?”

“I know when I’m needed. I only got on that plane because I knew it was going to be a smooth flight and I was needed here in a hurry, but John Winchester! I was not made for flying. You WILL be driving me all the way back home to Kansas. You hear me? I can always bring out that wooden spoon for you. And don’t you cuss me!” she scolded.

Keith snorted and didn’t even bother hiding his grin as he watched the two old friends interact.
“I thought that spoon was just for Dean,” John grumbles, looking a little sheepish.

“Well when his Daddy needs it I can break it out for him too, and that’s all the warning you get. You hear me? And when you sit down, don’t go putting your feet on this man’s coffee table. I swear Dean got all his nasty habits from you,” she replies with a shake of her head.

Before Keith could ask the question that was on his mind, the woman looked up and stood, with a small smile on her face. “And speakin’ o’ manners, where’s mine. I’m Missouri Mosely, an old friend of John’s here, and I know a little bit about your troubles, and how we might be able to solve them. Now Cassidy was mentioning earlier how he had a brother. We’ll need him here for this.”

“Why would we need Dick Casablancas?” Keith asks.

Missouri’s brows rise. “And you’d get that spoon if I thought you were cussing me. Lord how can parents name their children such things?”

“You’ll know when you meet him,” Veronica mutters.

“And don’t you think I won’t take you over my knee with that spoon for sassin’ me young lady,” Missouri says, and Keith snorts with laughter as his daughter glares at him.

“Okay, before we get into the details of what exactly you have in mind, Mizzy, how about I meet this spook?”

“I’m sitting right here,” Cassidy says as he shimmers into corporeal form next to Veronica.

John’s eyes widen, and he fights the urge to reach for the flask of holy water in his back pocket. Maybe leaving the shotgun loaded with rock salt in the truck had been a bad idea afterall.

“Nice parlor trick, Casper, now tell me how you see this working out for you,” John says.

Before Cassidy can answer Missouri is across the room and smacking John in the back of the head. He gives his head a shake and stares down at her incredulously. “What the hell, Missouri?” he bites out, and steps out of range of her hand as she lifts it for cussing her.

“You sit down right now, and I’ll tell you why this boy is going to be brought back. We are going to need his brother here to help with that, and you are going to do just like I tell you too, or I’ll beat you to within an inch of your life with my wooden spoon and bring your boys here and they can handle it, are we clear?” she snaps.

He gives a nod, and then settles down in a stool next to the kitchen counter. It takes over two hours and microwaved left over spagetti to get the full story, and never let it be said that John Winchester passes on free grub, even if a half-demon ghost cooked it. By the end of the story he’d much rather tear that Woody Goodman a new one than see Cassidy exorcised, and he’s thankful that his boys were more into hunting growing up than team sports, all arguments with Sam aside.

----------

Dick is out of place in the small apartment that the Mars and his dead brother call home. He’s already been threatened by the little weird lady who seems to know everything about him. He’s been hit with her wooden spoon at least half a dozen times, and there is some creepy old dude who has been setting something weird up for the last two hours.

He’s poured salt around all the doors and windows in the apartment, he’s got a wicked knife laid out next to a make shift altar, and there is a huge circle drawn in something called dragon’s blood with freaky symbols around it. Cassidy is in the center of the circle looking all nervous, and Mac is watching the whole thing with academic interest while trying to avoid meeting Cassidy and Veronica’s inquiring gazes.

Dick still has no idea why they need him. He wishes he could have talked Logan into joining the freak show, cause he’d have gotten a bang out of all this hoo doo mumbo jumbo, but Logan’s been more of an asshole than usual ever since Ronnie turned up all knocked up Rosemary’s Baby style. So instead it is Dick, Mac, Ronnie, her dad, Cassidy, the freaky lady armed with a spoon, and the creepy old dude with a penchant for big knives.

“All right, every thing is good to go, Mizzy, anything you need to say or get before we get this show on the road?” the creepy old dude says.

The spoon wielding lady replies, “As a matter of fact there are some things to go over. And you Richard will refer to me as Missouri or so help me I’ll pop you with my spoon again, clear?” Dick gulps and nods, Cassidy snickers to which Missouri pops him on the back of the head with her hand, and even Mac smirks at that, and then Missouri continues, “And don’t even think of cussin’ me boy. I’ll know if you do. Now down to business. Everything is set up, once we begin there is no stopping until everything is done. John, I’ll let you explain the basics of what we’re doing.”

John shakes his head, but he’s careful to mind his thoughts as he goes over the basics of what they are planning to do to Cassidy. The basics involve lots of Latin, sulfur, dragon’s blood, frankinsense, damiana, graveyard dirt, ash, Veronica’s blood as Cassidy’s connection to the living, and Dick’s blood as Cassidy’s own flesh and blood, his brother.

“Woah, back up the crazy train you Ozzfest rejects. My blood stays where it belongs, like totally inside of me. You’re not getting anywhere near me with those knives. I can watch this and think, oh X-files minus Scully later on, but when you start cutting on me. No. Way. In. Hell,” Dick replies as soon as they mention the thing about his blood being needed, and Missouri promptly whacks him upside the head with her spoon, not that it would do much damage there.

“Boy! What did I say about cussin? And this is about bringing back your baby brother! Ain’t you got at least one decent bone in that body of yours? He needs to be around for the raising of his baby, and you would deny him what he needs, what that innocent baby needs? Why I’ve never met such a selfish, pitiful excuse for a human being in all my life. Brothers are supposed to stick up for each other, defend each other, and big brothers are supposed to watch after their little brothers,” Missouri scolds.

“Fine,” Dick caves. “Take what you need. Just know that he’s always been a little pain in the ass though, but he’s still the Beav. Okay man, and this is like major, like donating a kidney major, bro. I swear you owe me huge.”

“Beav?” John coughs loudly. “Like Beaver? Who in the hell named you kids? God, Dick and Beaver, no wonder he went psycho.”

John has the good graces to turn his gaze to the floor at a sharp look from Missouri, and then all jokes aside they get down to business.

Cassidy gets settled within the intricate circle. He shifts his gaze to Veronica and then he closes his eyes. His doesn’t know if he’s ready to live again. Would it even be like living? How does one go from being dead to being alive again? Actually that’s just the tip of the iceberg as far as his questions go. He’s also curious about how pregnancy occurs during necropheliac sex. And again, is that even an adjective? It should be now.

Missouri looks at the boy sitting within the dragon’s blood circle with wide eyes and shakes her head. “Boy, you got some dang fool thoughts going on in that head of yours. You just calm down, and whatever you do, just stay in that circle. Now my guess is you probably won’t be able to step out of it until we’re done because of your inherent demon heritage, but this is kind of new territory for me, so I ain’t a hundred percent.”

“That’s not exactly reassuring,” Cassidy grinds out and again shifts his gaze to Veronica, and something swells and flutters within his stomach as he notices the concern in her steady blue gaze.

Missouri gives him a pointed look that makes Cassidy wish he could take the words back. “I come from a long line of woman who’ve done more than bring back the dead, boy. Now just trust me. I can do this, it’s just been a long time is all. Probably should have talked to Celeste recently, but I didn’t have time for that, but I know what I’m doing, and John’s got all the information I need in his journal… John, your boys have the book don’t they?” Missouri says narrows her gaze on the man.

John scratches his head. “Well I had to leave them with something to keep them busy while I’m out getting the low down on Demonic Enemy Number One.”

She shakes her head. “Well I’m going to need someone to get the boys on the line. There’s an incantation that’s in the middle section of that book that I need some refreshing on.”

Mac pipes up for the first time. “I could do it if Mr. Winchester isn’t up to talking to them.”

“Oh she’s an intuitive one. I like that. All right hon, you’re going to be the one talking to them. Get Sam on the phone if you can. He’s the nicer of the two and his pronunciation is the best. Dean tends to stumble a little over Latin.”

John rolls his eyes, and barely manages to contain his thoughts to the wall he’s imagining to keep Missouri out.

“What was that? I’ve done warned you about cussing me. You wait till I’m done with this ritual! Oh and light the sage. You’re doing a basic smudging before I get into this,” she says, and John nods, and then she asks, “And this blade is silver right? It has to be silver to have the proper reaction of mixing the blood when he ingests it, otherwise the succubus traits in him might reject it.”

“Yes it’s silver. I got it through a dealer that Bobby recommended. The dealer’s specialty is lycanthropes. There’s not much he offers that isn’t silver. The silver is covered,” John responds gruffly.

Missouri narrows her dark eyes on John Winchester, her hand itching to just knock some sense into him, or at the very least pop that smug smirk off his face with a sound smack to the back of his head. Good lord if she didn’t see where Dean got every bit of his behavior from. How Sam had picked up on his mother’s sweet and gentle nature she’d never figure out.

Once they get started on the ritual things seem to shift in the room. Keith is sitting in a chair watching everything unfold, Mac is on the phone and passing along advice and Latin, Veronica is sitting on the floor just outside of the circle. She’s looking at Cassidy and every now and then her right hand lightly rubs over her abdomen. Dick is watching everything with a look on his face that says, ‘when does the real freakshow and fireworks start?’ John is busy with a Latin incantation and then he pulls out the knife while Missouri speaks in a language that sounds like a cross between French and Haitian.

Finally Mac says, “Sam said if everything has gone as planned it’s time to bless the blade and go into the blood rite. Only the wielder of the blade can pass through the circle.”

John nods at this, and then he holds up the wicked looking curved blade, and in Latin he blesses the blade, and then he approaches Veronica, and for the first time she notices the small copper bowl that he has. There are symbols engraved in the bowl and then John is asking her something.

“Do you give this sacrifice freely, with love true and pure? Do you give your blood to make whole what was born broken?”

Veronica’s mouth goes dry as she contemplates the depth of the question, realizing just what it means. She looks up at her father who is watching attentively, and she sees the pain in his eyes, the questions, the worry. She then turns to look at the ghost within the dragon’s blood circle. He meets her gaze with hopeful dark eyes. Eyes that are filled with something that causes warmth to pool in her stomach, and her hand again rubs her belly.

She holds up her hand. “Yes,” she whispers, and she grits her teeth as the silver blade of the knife slices cleanly into her left palm.

Her eyes shut tightly and she squeezes her palm over the copper bowl until she hears John grunt and he says it’s enough. She pulls her hand back and she’s surprised when a dishtowel is being wrapped around her hand and Mac is giving her shoulder a squeeze. Maybe they’re still friends after all.

John then faces Dick, who is looking decidedly ill over the blood in the bowl. He swallows thickly as John’s dark eyes lock with his, and then John asks him the same question.

“Do you give this sacrifice freely, with love true and pure? Do you give your blood to make whole what was born broken?”

Dick has grown very pale and looks decidedly ill, as he gives a jerky nod and shoves his hand in John’s face before screwing his eyes tightly shut. “Shit,” he hisses as John’s knife slices into his left palm and his stomach rolls at the sound of his blood dripping into that bowl and mixing with Ronnie’s.

He opens his eyes when he feels someone wrapping his hand and he notices that Mac has hung up the phone, and she’s playing nurse with his injured hand. He then turns his attention to the crazy dude with the knife and watches as he sprinkles a mixture of dried up plants and yellow looking powder in with the blood and stirs it with the knife.

He holds the bowl up, mutters some more of that Latin mumbo jumbo while that weird spoon wielding lady’s chanting has reached a speed and rhythm where words are no longer distinguishable, and the bowl begins to shift and vibrate, a strange, cleansing hum filling the small apartment, and then John moves toward the circle and Cassidy stands up within it.

John moves his arms into the circle, the shift of the movement strange as the inside of the circle is oddly cold compared to the rest of the room. He looks at Cassidy and says, “Well, son, take the bowl and drink up.”

Cassidy’s eyes widen for a moment, but then he looks at Veronica, and he brings the bowl to his lips. The tangy taste of the copper is nothing compared to the mixture of blood and herbs that he drinks. He would snicker at the fact that Dick has fainted at the sight of him drinking blood, but he has to concentrate against the taste of the mixture to drink it. Man sulfur makes blood taste that much worse. He closes his eyes, and continues to drink and it’s the first time anything has felt so real inside of his mouth since the last time he kissed Veronica.

He can feel the thick warmth of the blood in his mouth, like chocolate syrup fresh out of the bottle and sliding thickly down his throat. He swallows and can actually feel the warm mixture settle in his stomach and something happens.

Something twists and churns in his gut, and then there is fire and his insides feel like they are ripping apart, acid is flowing through him, acid and electricity and he collapses to his knees, his hands clawing into the carpet. He tries to crawl out of the circle but he can’t. There is something, the circle itself, that is keeping him from escaping.

He shifts and lifts his head to the ceiling, his mouth hanging open and a raw scream tears from his throat, and suddenly his body goes limp. He collapes to the floor within the circle, and curls up within himself, like a little boy curling up in his sleep after a particularly horrible nightmare.

Electricity dances within the air of the small apartment and a lightness seems to fill the room, and then Veronica moves toward the circle. John tries to stop her as he realizes that she’s trying to get to him. It’s not over, the boy is supposed to be awake before the circle can be broken, but it’s too late. She crosses into the circle with a gasp and then she curls herself around him, her arms pulling him tight against her, and she brushes his brown hair back from his forehead and presses her lips there.

Slowly he shifts in her arms and looks up at her, his eyes fluttering open, and a small grin on his face as he manages a hoarse, “Hey.”

She lets out her breath, and then she presses her hand to his chest and her face lights up with a smile as she leans down and says softly, “I can feel your heart beat, and you’re warm. You’re warm without taking that warmth from me. I… I think you’re alive.”

He snorts and then reaches up, twirling a finger in her blonde hair as he lets out a labored breath. “I think you’re right. I haven’t been this tired or in this much pain since that night, so yeah. I’m back.”

“You’re hurt?” Keith asks, finally finding a voice.

John looks up at Keith with an expression that says, ‘Pain is a given when you resurrect a dead half-breed demon and make him fully human.’

John doesn’t expect Missouri’s hand flying out of nowhere and catching him in the back of the head, nor does he expect the phone being shoved in his hand as she narrows her eyes and snaps, “Well, talk to your boys John!”

She then turns to Keith and says, “There was a lot of strain put on him when his body was made corporeal again. He’ll need to rest for a few days. Veronica should be fine, although breaking that circle the way she did was a might bit foolish. Richard will be fine too, though he’ll probably be a baby about that little cut in his hand. Now I’ll be back in a few months to check on how the pregnancy is progressing and I’ll be calling every day. Oh and John will leave you with his boys’ number. You’re more likely to get them than John, but if you’re deadset, you can try John first. Dean is usually the one that picks up. Don’t mind his manners. He takes after his Daddy.”

Keith nods at this, and then Missouri turns to the dark haired girl with the colored streaks in her hair. There is a soft and sympathetic smile on her face as she notices how the girl looks at Veronica and Cassidy. She then notices how the girl turns her attention back to the blonde boy, focusing on his wounded hand.

“Damn, that’s my stroking hand,” Dick grumbles, and then winces when Missouri gives him a sound smack on the back of his head.

She focuses once again on the dark haired girl, and reaches down, giving the girl’s shoulder a gentle pat. “You’re where you’re needed Cindy Mackenzie. Don’t forget your friends, and the people who care for you. They’re closer than you realize, even if they are pretty dim in the intellectual department. Take care, I know you’ll do right in all this. You’re a strong girl, good head on your shoulders. The hurt fades everyday, sweetie, and then you find things that feel right, and you close up those bittersweet memories. Forgive child. It’s the best gift in the world, for the one givin’ it as much as the one receivin’ it.”

Mac gives the woman a small smile and a nod and then Dick pulls her close and his lips brush against her cheeks and she’s blushing.

Missouri makes her way to the door, deciding that her work here is done. She can check into a motel room with John, two doubles, her treat for once. She smiles a little when she hears John say a gruff good bye and then he’s pushing a button on the phone and leaving it with Keith. He also hands Keith a card with his phone number and Dean’s number on it.

A moment later he joins her at the door, and then gives her an odd look because she’s lingering in the doorway. She smiles as she turns away, because there is a newly formed family there, and it’s a good feeling, mending old hurts and bringing genuinely good people and people with potentially good intentions together.

She lets out a deep breath and turns her attention to John before she says, “Now see, it ain’t so hard talking to your boys every once and awhile. You know they worry about you, though Lord knows why with how you just leave them on their own.”

“Mizzy, why do I get the feeling that it’s going to be a long drive back to Lawrence?” he asks.

She snorts. “Cause it’s at least a week’s drive even with the way you drive like a mad man, and you know I’m goin’ to lecture you all the way home, cause you got it coming, and let me tell you! You could have taught Dean better manners! That boy is a caveman! At least Sam has some decent manners and a sweet disposition about him, though where he got it from being around you and Dean growing up all those years I’ll never know!”

John rolls his eyes and dodges a swipe of Missouri’s hand as he braces himself for a very long drive across country with a psychic who knows when he’s cussing her and isn’t afraid to call him on it. He chuckles at the thought of Missouri’s well-intentioned banter, and then winces. He wonders if pulling a gun on her might quiet her down for a while.

“If you even think about that again John Winchester I’ll do more than hit you with a spoon. I got a few psychic tricks up my sleeve. And if you say spoon bendin’ so help me you’ll never hear the end of it!” she warns, and John bites back on the reply.

Some battles are best fought with silence. That is one of the surest lessons John has learned in all of his forty-something going on fifty odd years.

End.


Don't forget to review and stay tuned for part for where John's boys get down and dirty and mid-wifey! Yay! Oh and please review and feed Provenance, she's a picky wench of a muse!
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