Supernatural Fan Fiction ❯ Out of the Mouths of Babes ❯ Time Gaps ( Chapter 7 )

Chapter 7

 

Six Months Later

 

Ryuji stood perfectly still, his whole body loose and comfortable, his hands hanging at his sides, his gun a heavy presence against his left leg as he looked at his targets. Then he swung the weapon up, and one of the cans lined up on the fence feel with each discharged bullet.

 

As the last can settled on the ground, Ryuji turned to face John, who'd been watching him, and smiled. “That was fun. Thank you.”

 

“Hey, don't thank me. You're the one who did the work. You done good, kid.”

 

“That's grammatically incorrect.”

 

“How often are you gonna say that to me before you realize I'll never learn?”

 

“I a—I'm sorry,” Ryuji said with another smile. “I just keep thinking about how my teacher would probably cry if he heard you speak, and I feel as if I should correct you.”

 

John shook his head. “Well, this is my world, and in my world, it's your speech that's a problem.”

 

“I thought you said I was getting better.”

 

“You are. You just slip into `formal' sometimes, and as an eleven-year-old human, you can't do that. Not in front of people, anyway.”

 

“I know. I just…at home, the way I speak—talk—isn't formal. In fact, some people would think it was rude. I would get away with it, since I'm still technically a child, but it would still be rude, and I would be expected to grow out of it in a couple of years.”

 

John stared at him. “You're a really weird bunch, you Elves.”

 

Ryuji smiled. “I could say the same of you. I don't think I will, though.”

 

“Wise choice. C'mon, the boys'll be getting off school soon, and Dean'll want to see how good you've gotten.”

 

Three Months Later

 

“But Daddy, I don't wanna move!” Sam wailed as if the world was ending. “Tommy's bringing his snake in for show-and-tell Friday!”

 

“I know, Sammy, and I'm sorry,” John said, and he did look it. “But Uncle Bobby called, and he needs me to take care of something. We have to go to Minnesota as soon as possible.”

 

Sam glared at him, putting all the fury a seven-year-old can possibly feel into the expression, and then he ran out of the room and a few seconds later the sound of a door slamming reached the three still remaining.

 

Dean sighed. “I'll go,” he said quietly, and he got up and traced his brother's steps with considerably less enthusiasm.

 

John watched him go, and Ryuji noticed that he suddenly looked far older than he should. “He'll be all right,” the hunter said, more to himself than anything. “Dean can usually get him calmed down.”

 

“Sir,” Ryuji began—he had never tried calling John anything else, and no one had ever invited him to.

 

“Yes, Ryuji?” John asked, as if he'd only just remembered the Elf was in the room.

 

“I…I don't understand what's going on,” Ryuji confessed “What do you mean when you say you're…moving?”

 

John glanced at him. “Whaddya mean, what do I mean?”

 

“Well, exactly what I said, I suppose. What are you moving?”

 

“Um…us? Me, Sam, Dean…all of us. We're leaving town.”

 

“Oh. Well, when will you be back?”

 

“Er…never,” John said. “We're packing up and selling the apartment and getting in the truck and…going.”

 

“….Oh. You mean you're just…leaving your home?” Ryuji asked dubiously. The idea was just…beyond him.

 

“No, Ryuji,” John said gently. “This isn't our home. We don't have a home anymore.”

 

Ryuji couldn't really think of anything to say to that, so he didn't say anything. Instead, he hesitantly asked the question that was worrying him now.

 

“Will I go with you? To Minnesota?”

 

“Do you want to?”

 

“I think I do, yes.”

 

“Then there's your answer.”

 

Four Months Later

 

Today made exactly one year since Ryuji came to the human world, and a number of things had changed.

 

They were small things, mostly, having to do with the things Ryuji was interested in. They now ranged from Lord of the Rings and Dragonlance novels (both of which came astonishingly close to the mark on Elves) to Johnny Cash and Metallica songs. Unlike much of his kind, he hadn't picked one hobby, such as music or dance, to concentrate on and perfect.

 

Even his clothing had changed, perhaps permanently—he doubted he'd ever be comfortable in Elven leggings after putting on denim jeans, or with wearing his hair loose again after tying it back for so long. And he very much liked boots—padded moccasins just couldn't compare to them. His Elven kin—the males of whom never worse any kind of accessories—would have been aghast at the silver amulet around his neck and the single silver cuff he wore on his left ear.

 

And all this before he turned thirteen! In the eyes of his people, he wasn't even an adolescent yet—with no say in what he did or learned or wore or liked. But here…here, it was different. Here, they didn't care what you looked like or found interesting, or, if they did, they didn't try to change it.

 

And his relations here were getting better, too. It had been weeks since Dean even threw a glare in his direction—mostly, they just stayed out of each others' way, and occasionally talked about the latest rock band or dead-wrong ghost hunter TV show. Sam was, of course, as friendly and fun-loving as ever, and John was still John—would always be John.

 

So, yes, everything was different now. But it was a good different, and Ryuji was liking it more and more every day.

 

Five Months Later

 

John had stopped treating him as a guest. Ryuji began noticing that a while ago, but his suspicion was confirmed when he was asked to clean the guns before he went to bed one night.

 

Ryuji wasn't sure how he felt about that. Oh, it wasn't that he minded doing the work—he hadn't had anything important to do instead, or anything. It was just that the weapons weren't exactly his, were they?

 

But then, as John gave the order again, Ryuji realized something.

 

John wouldn't assign the chore to a guest, would he?

 

So…that would mean Ryuji wasn't a guest anymore. He certainly wasn't family, but at least he was more than a person taking up space in the motel rooms now.

 

Five Months Later

 

John took Dean and Ryuji on their first hunt not long after Dean's thirteenth birthday, as he'd apparently been planning to for many years, and as Dean had apparently been looking forward to for most of his life, if the overwhelming excitement that spilled over into everything he did for days on end was any indication.

 

The hunt was what Jon had called a “simple salt-`n-burn”—made up entirely of the digging up and burning of a corpse in the local cemetery of Aspen Springs, Colorado, the destination of the sixth “move” Ryuji had undergone with the Winchesters.

 

But even though it was a relatively easy job, it was still important, establishing a routing and allowing the two Winchesters and Ryuji to adjust to working together.

 

It all went off without a hitch, a fact that surprised everyone concerned—and, perhaps, slightly disappointed the two boys, who had maybe been looking forward to a little more action, still partially convinced of their own invincibility.

 

But that would all change someday, and for right now, Dean and Ryuji were content with their new status—as hunters.

 

Christmas Eve, 1992

 

John was home for Christmas this year, which was apparently a rare thing in the Winchester household, because everyone was very excited. There were decorations and a sad, pathetic little tree and a lot of scurrying that culminated in a pile of gifts under the tree and a dinner of pizza and Cokes consumed on the motel room floor, between the two beds and the rollaway Ryuji slept on.

 

Ryuji hadn't ever been told about the human ritual of “Christmas gifts” and so, of course, hadn't gotten anyone anything. Not that he would have had the means, of course. And Sam and Dean had no money, so basically there were three presents under the tree—one for each of the Winchester boys, and…one for Ryuji.

 

“I…can't believe you did this,” Ryuji said quietly, staring at the brown paper-wrapped package that had been handed to him after Dean and Sam had opened theirs.

 

“I can't, either, really,” John replied. “But I got it from my friend Jim, and…I want you to have it.”

 

Ryuji had been pulling off the wrapping as John spoke, and now he pulled out a set of black wristbands—exactly matching the ones John, Dean, and Sam wore themselves.

 

Ryuji had no idea what John had been trying to say with the gift, but as he slipped the bands on, he felt tears gathering behind his eyes all the same.

 

Two Years and Six Months Later

 

For a long, long time, Ryuji had missed his home. He'd missed the elegant, musical mode of speech of his people, their beautiful works of art, the way they would gather around their own in times of need. He missed walking down the street and knowing everyone he saw, and always knowing what was going to get him in trouble and what was okay.

 

But…even though he did still miss those things a little, his longing had faded over time, and now it wasn't much more than a little, bright spot in the back of his mind, behind all the new ideas and routines and people and interests. Now, Sam and Dean were his friends, and John was his caretaker, and he himself was—well, not human, but he didn't entirely feel like an Elf anymore, either. He was just…floating, somewhere in the middle, and oddly, he was all right with that.

 

He was almost fifteen years old now, and in the almost five years since he'd come here for the first time, he hadn't once pictured himself going home anytime soon. He wasn't sure exactly how much he wanted to anymore.

 

XXX

 

“No, you're letting go too early, it's never gonna go far enough if you don't learn to hold on to it longer,” Dean said in amused exasperation, picking up the baseball and pressing it back into Ryuji's hand. “C'mon, try again.”

 

Ryuji stared down at the ball and asked, “And why do you enjoy this game so much?”

 

Dean shrugged. “I dunno. `Cause it's simple, maybe. It doesn't stress me out. Sports are cathartic, I guess.”

 

“Really? Because I find it entirely stressful.”

 

Dean grinned. “Well, that's `cause you such at it, and that's not something you're used to.”

 

Ryuji rolled his eyes. “Funny.”

 

“I thought so. But you'll get it. It's not as hard as you think. Come on, try again. Throw the ball.”

 

Ryuji was gearing up to obey when Sam, who was sitting on the ground off to the side, reading a comic, suddenly piped up, “Hey, Dean, who's that watching us?”

 

Dean's reaction was instantaneous and predictable—he turned to look while at the same time stepping closer to his brother in a defensive position.

 

Ryuji, on the other hand, went completely still, staring wide-eyed at the tall man that was suddenly there in the lot with them.

 

“Ryuji?” Dean asked, obviously noticing his shock. “What is it? Who is that?”

 

Ryuji replied without taking his eyes off the man who was now moving toward them.

 

“My father.”

 

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Author's Note: Well. That was…not what I expected at all. Interesting. I hope you enjoyed this chapter as much as I did. I, for one, can't wait to see where this goes…

 

`Til next chapter!