Fake Fan Fiction ❯ Fight or Flight ❯ Kamikaze Nuns and Weird Mist ( Chapter 7 )

“Hey, Biks, I'm home!” Ryo called, tossing his jacket onto the couch and collapsing next to it, running a hand over his face as he did. He was so tired…

 

“Hi, Ryo,” Bikky said around a mouthful of chips as he came into the room.

 

“Bikky, that's disgusting,” Ryo pointed out.

 

Bikky shrugged. “Where's the freak?”

 

Ryo leaned back against the couch and closed his eyes. “Hospital.”

 

He opened his eyes again when he felt additional weight next to him, and found Bikky looking at him with ill-disguised concern, though his voice held its normal level of sarcasm. “He did something stupid again, then. What happened?”

 

So, Ryo explained the whole story—well, most of it. He omitted the part about the vampires—he didn't think Bikky needed to know about that—and the stuff about Sam and Dean, because it was way too complicated to explain right now. “I got released pretty quickly, but they want to keep Dee overnight for observation,” he concluded, reaching over absently to take a handful of Bikky's chips.

 

“And that's where he is now,” Bikky said rhetorically. Ryo nodded. “And you're here.” Ryo nodded again. “Uh…why?”

 

“What do you mean?” Ryo asked innocently.

 

“Oh, cut it out, Ryo,” Bikky snapped. “You two were in an explosion, and now Dee's in the hospital, and you're here and not there. There's gotta be a reason for that.”

 

Ryo sighed heavily. It was so hard to hide anything from Bikky these days…

 

“Well?”

 

“We had a fight.”

 

“…Ah. Bad?” Bikky asked carefully.

 

Ryo shrugged. “Nah. It'll be okay—I'll fix it.”

 

“What was it about?”

 

“Uh…nothing much…just…stuff,” Ryo said evasively. “Hey, do you and Carol have plans tonight?” he asked, changing the subject before his son could voice any more uncomfortable questions.

 

Bikky shrugged. “Nothing set in stone. Why?”

 

“Mother invited us to dinner,” Ryo explained. “Dee was supposed to come, since the main reason she invited us was so she could yell at him about that whole disappearance thing, but he told us not to cancel, so…yeah. You want to go with me?”

 

“Sure, I guess,” Bikky said, shrugging. “Wish the Skankmeister could be there, though. I like watching Maria yell at him…”

 

XXX

 

“Thank God we're leaving tomorrow,” Dean murmured, stretching out on the bed with a soft groan and closing his eyes. Every inch of him was twinging or throbbing or sore, and though he thought he'd done a pretty good job hiding it from Sam, he didn't know how much longer he'd be able to keep that up, when all he wanted to do was sleep…

 

Sam didn't answer him for a moment. Then he said absently, “Yeah, me, too…I guess.”

 

“Whaddya mean, you guess? I thought you hated cities,” Dean said, opening his eyes again so that he could shoot a curious look at his brother.

 

Sam was lying on his own bed, his injured arm lying across his chest and his other propping his head up. He looked as exhausted as Dean felt. Still, his eyes were open and he sounded alert when he answered, so Dean forced himself not to worry.

 

“Well, yeah, I do, but…”

 

“But what?” Dean asked.

 

“But…well, I guess I'm just gonna miss Ryo and Dee a little, is all.”

 

“Why?” Dean asked, unable to keep from scoffing. At Sam's look, he amended himself. “Well, okay, maybe Ryo isn't so bad, but Dee—Dee's a different story.”

 

Sam rolled his eyes. “You do realize why that is, don't you?”

 

“You're not gonna quote Freud to me, are you? `Cause I'll run over you with my girl—and then back up.”

 

Sam snorted. “He bugs you so much because you two are so alike.”

 

Dean sat up as far as his exhaustion would allow and glared at him. “Take that back.”

 

“Nope. It's just the truth, Dean. You can't see it because you hate him, but you are alike.”

 

Dean collapsed back against the pillows and shook his head. “You're wrong this time, geek boy.”

 

Sam didn't reply, but Dean knew from his expression that he wasn't convinced—which was more irritating, really, not less. But arguing with him further was…worse than useless.

 

“Besides, I really can't blame him for being that way,” Sam said thoughtfully.

 

So apparently he wasn't as ready to drop the conversation.

 

Dean sighed. “Oh, I would love to know what you're talking about.”

 

“Really?” Sam asked, sounding amused.

 

“No, not really, but I bet you're gonna tell me anyway.”

 

“Well, think about it, Dean,” Sam insisted, ignoring the tone. “We come into town, and in less than a day we turn everything upside down. We go around breaking every vigilante law this city has ever set down. And sure, it's for a good cause—a great cause—but we can't expect them to fully understand that, because what we do to help people is so different from what they do to achieve the same thing. And to make it worse, when they actually catch us at it, you act like the Lord on High Himself…”

 

Dean opened his mouth furiously, and Sam went quickly to placate him.

 

“I mean, I get why, but from their—his­—point of view, you were just being a jerk. Plus, that same night, we tell them a whole spectrum of things they've never even imagined and probably didn't really want to hear. And then they have to tell their superior officer all of it, which probably didn't give a huge amount of credit to their sanity. And—”

 

“Okay, okay, I don't need a damn recap! What is your point, Mouthy McGee?”

 

“My point is it's a lot of stress, Dean! And you can't really blame Dee Laytner for being a little unhappy about all this. Can you?”

 

Dean clenched his teeth. He hated it when Sam made sense…

 

“Well, what's with Ryo, then?” he found himself asking, despite his desire to end this conversation before it went any further. “Why doesn't he act like it's the last days of Sonny and Cher?”

 

That gave Sam pause—for about three seconds. “He's different from Dee, is all. Plus—well, from what I picked up, Ryo actually saw that `shifter's body—before we found Dee. So, he believes it. Or…some of it, anyway. He doesn't have a choice. So, he chose to accept it. See?”

 

Dean glared at him again. “The only thing I see is why Dad never wanted you to go to college.”

 

He was taken aback when, instead of taking the comment at face value and withdrawing into moody silence, Sam actually smiled, and changed the subject.

 

“So do you think it'll actually be him at the church tonight…?”

 

XXX

 

Dean and Sam probably would have been late, despite Ryo's cautions, if Sam hadn't been absolutely adamant that they leave the motel on time, whether Dean was actually ready or not. And even that might not have worked, except that Sam made it very clear that he fully intended to take the Impala and go by himself if Dean made them late.

 

As it was, though, they pulled up in front of the address Ryo had given Sam two minutes before seven—to find Ryo already there, waiting for them.

 

He climbed out of his car as they pulled to a stop, and someone else got out of the other side and went around to join him as Dean and Sam approached.

 

The first thing Sam noticed was that Ryo looked much more strained right now than he had when Sam had left him at the hospital. He looked a little pale and more than a little tired, and Sam felt a stab of concern. But he smiled and said, “Hello,” and he sounded all right…

 

“And this is my son Bikky,” Ryo added to his greeting. “Biks, Sam and Dean. I met them through Dee.” He said that last part as if he'd been practicing it, and Sam suspected that he had been trying to figure out what to tell his son.

 

Bikky reached out to shake each of their hands. He wasn't frowning, but he was hardly smiling, either. In fact, he looked unaccountably serious for a teenager—as well as intelligent, and somehow even a little intimidating. Sam recognized that look—he'd seen that kind of haunted expression in himself, though it was rather less in this young man. Bikky had seen a lot of the world, maybe too much for someone his age, and that wasn't something you forgot. Knowing this very well, Sam found himself warming to Bikky, and he smiled at the boy (kid? Man? Who would tell?). Bikky nodded back, returning the smile enough to lighten his expression before following Ryo onto the porch of the little church-house-thing as the latter rang the bell.

 

“DOOR!” A voice, slightly muffled, echoed through the door.

 

“WHAT?” another answered.

 

“THE BELL'S RINGING!”

 

“WELL, GET IT THEN!”

 

“WHAT IF IT'S A SERIAL KILLER?”

 

“WE'RE IN A CHURCH, MORON!”

 

“ALL THE MORE REASON FOR SOME PSYCHO TO COME HERE!”

 

“OH, FOR THE LOVE OF CH—”

 

“YOUNG MAN, YOU DO NOT WANT TO FINISH THAT SENTENCE!”

 

Abrupt silence fell behind the door, and a moment later it swung open to reveal a small woman in a nun's habit. This woman had a very lined face, but the face was still kind and gentle, though at the moment she was frowning darkly at a boy who still stood behind her, looking sheepish.

 

“Well, come in, then,” she offered, finally taking her gaze off the poor, unfortunate kid and standing aside to let them pass.

 

“Oh…hi, Ryo,” the kid the nun had been looking at said. “Hey, Bikky.” He looked at Sam and Dean, and nodded in greeting, but didn't ask who they were. “Sorry about the floor show.”

 

Ryo grinned at him. “Don't worry about it. I approve.”

 

The kid rolled his eyes. “Must you always be such a cop?”

 

The nun—Sam decided that she could only be Maria Lane—had been flicking her gaze over their group, and now she suddenly turned to the boy and said pointedly, “Jimmy, don't you have somewhere to be?”

 

Jimmy shrugged. “Not really.” And then he looked as if he'd made some horrible mistake, and knew it.

 

“Good. That means you're free to go clean the bathroom. I meant to do it myself, but it's getting harder and harder to kneel down with these old bones…oh, and grab Nate from the living room before you go up. He can do some laundry.” She glared as Jimmy went to protest. “Go.”

 

So, Jimmy went, muttering under his breath.

 

“Oh, and Jimmy?”

 

Jimmy turned, looking as if he very much didn't want to.

 

“One hears that there's a basketball game going on at the court tonight. One also hears that it starts in half an hour.” She said all this very conversationally, but Jimmy's face lit up like Christmas, and he flashed a grin at Maria before charging up the stairs, yelling over his shoulder into what must be the living room.

 

Maria waited for both him and the other guy to disappear upstairs before she turned to Ryo with her hands on her hips and glared at him. “All right, where is he?”

 

Ryo sighed and said heavily, “He's all right, Mother.”

 

But that vague reply proved to be a waste of breath, for Maria seemed to instantly pick up and decipher exactly what Ryo wasn't saying. “That's all well and good, but where is he?”

 

“At the hospital,” Ryo said resignedly. “There was an explosion—”

 

Maria paled visibly, but her voice didn't even quake as she replied. “And why was he in the building without his partner?” She didn't sound accusatory. She did sound angry, but somehow Sam knew it wasn't directed at Ryo.

 

“He ran in ahead.”

 

“That idiot,” Maria said furiously. “That foolish idiot…but he's all right?”

 

Ryo nodded. “He's stuck in the hospital overnight. That's why he's not here now. It's just for observation. He's bored, but he'll be okay. He says he'll come see you when he's released.”

 

Maria nodded slowly, and some of the color came back to her cheeks. “Good. Make sure he shows up tomorrow. Now…Sam and Dean.”

 

Sam started at the sound of his name, and saw with surprise that Maria was giving him and his brother a penetrating look.

 

“You two are brothers.”

 

“Uh…yes…” Sam said slowly, though it didn't seem to be a question.

 

“Sam and Dean…I've been trying to figure out why those names sound familiar to me ever since Ryo called. I've also been trying to figure out what he meant when I asked him how he met you two, and he said, `You won't believe me if I told you.'” She looked thoughtfully from Sam to Dean and back. “And I think I've finally figured it out.”

 

Sam had an uneasy feeling, and somehow he had an idea of where Maria was going with this even before she continued.

 

“Ryo said he doesn't know your last names. It makes him uneasy, not to know, but he said there's nothing he can do about it. No, Ryo doesn't know your last name…but I think I do.” She looked again at each of them, and Sam found he could not look away.

 

“Is your father's name John Winchester?”

 

XXX

 

Dee Laytner sat in his hospital bed in his silent room, and for the first time ever, wished for a roommate. Normally, he appreciated a room all to himself, because it gave at least some semblance of privacy, except for the intrusion of doctors and nurses. And that, in turn, at least gave him a chance to loosen Ryo up a little…

 

But now Ryo was gone, and apparently he wasn't coming back tonight, and Dee wanted a roommate.

 

Dee sighed and turned off the TV he'd been staring at absently for the last hour, dropping the remote on the bed, and fell back to brooding.

 

He'd been kicking himself very hard all afternoon. Even when he wasn't conscious of it, he'd been silently berating himself. How could he have said what he'd said to Ryo? How could he have even thought what he'd said to Ryo? It was completely understandable that his love was still a little shaken up. If Dee himself had been through what Ryo had…well, comparatively, Ryo was very calm indeed. It was understandable.

 

And Dee did understand it. He hadn't felt even a twinge of annoyance at any time when Ryo brought up the whole subject of the shapeshifter. All he'd felt at those moments had been sadness for Ryo, and an overwhelming, all-consuming love of this man who obviously felt so much for him. All Ryo had ever done was love him…

 

And where had it even come from? He hadn't felt that way—he still didn't—so what had made him say it? Dee had no idea—one second, he'd been arguing with Ryo on what now seemed like the horribly petty subject of Dean and Sam, and the next—those words, those terrible, unbelievable words, and then the silence, and Ryo's hurt expression that had said far more than words could have, and Dee had wanted to die.

 

I'm such a bastard…

 

And the worst part of it was that Ryo would forgive him. He wouldn't deliver any hurtful words of his own, he wouldn't fight, he wouldn't even raise his voice. There would be no guilt trip, no simmering anger. There would only be quiet forgiveness, and that would not even be spoken. In fact, it was quite possible that Ryo would never bring up their argument again, or even hint that he remembered it at all. And his love for Dee would not diminish, or even change.

 

But Ryo would never again mention the shapeshifter. No matter how many times he thought of it, he would never articulate it. He would suffer in silence, if it killed him. He would continue to confide in Dee on all other subjects, but never that. And if he didn't talk to Dee about it…then who could he talk to? Very few people knew about Dee's supposed death, and that group did not include someone Ryo would truly open up to. Rose was out of the question, of course. JJ was a good friend—a great friend—but Ryo wouldn't want to raise the subject with him, because he had always been very sensitive and probably wouldn't want to be reminded of that time. And everyone else…well, they were friends, of course, but not close friends, and certainly not people Ryo would bare his soul to.

 

Maybe if things were different, Ryo would have talked to Bikky. Maybe if Bikky were older, or if he'd actually known about all this, he could have been that person Ryo needed. But Ryo would never, under any circumstances, broach the subject to his son. Maybe it wasn't wise, but it was the course Ryo would take. It was the same way with Mother Maria. Dee didn't doubt for a moment that both of them could handle it, but even if Ryo thought so, too, he would still be convinced that the best way would be keeping his feelings to himself, and avoid upsetting anyone else, regardless of what it did to him.

 

There was no solution that Dee could see, and his guilt kicked itself up a couple notches.

 

He sighed and rubbed his right temple as he felt a headache begin to build. It mixed with the guilt, and made Dee feel like he was about to throw up the crap that passed for food in this place. But the rubbing didn't help—it just made the feeling worse.

 

And after the headache and the guilt were finished mixing like pumpkin bread—they exploded into a pain so absolute that Dee knew nothing he had ever felt had equaled it, and nothing ever would. He was blind, and he was deaf, and there was only pain, and he began to scream without even hearing himself.

 

He never saw the mist.

 

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AN: Okay, I have absolutely nothing left in me to come up with something clever for an end note. This week has been hell, and, oh, look, it's only Wednesday…so I'll just skip that part, and ask you to please review if you have the time, and leave it at that.