The Distance Between Two Hearts; Part Four

[thelonejuliet]

Previous chapters here.



Chapter Six

“What are we doing out here again, Chris?” Sam asked, as he once again dodged a wayward tree branch.

It was 11:00 at night and they were traipsing through the woods looking for God-knows-what with only Christina’s light in front of them. Sure, Sam could have turned on his own flashlight, but that wasn’t the point. They were acting on some whim, after the sheriff or ranger or someone called Christina.

“Um…I don’t actually know. Joey said there was something out here that I had to see. I guess Tony agreed with him. They had to get some more supplies or people or something and we’ve got a half hour or so before they all get back.”

“Joey’s the sheriff and Tony’s that ranger guy?”

Another tree branch, this one actually managed to smack him in the face. He ignored the snorting coming from behind him.

“No. Joey’s the ranger and Tony’s the sheriff - if you can actually call him that.”

“Oh, my bad. And they know about you? What you are?”

“Well,” Chris paused, obviously thinking. “They don’t know about the whole freak psychic thing. But they know I’m a hunter.”

“And they’re okay with that?” Dean piped up from behind, laughing as another branch whipped Sam in the face.

“Well…yeah.”

Sam had to smile at the unspoken “duh” at the end of that statement. Christina had never taken any crap from Dean, being just as sarcastic as he was. It was nice to see that some things never changed.

“Oh.”

“Guys, most of this town would be dead if it weren’t for me and the things I’ve taught them. A lot of supernatural shit happe-”

Her voice suddenly cut off and both brothers froze, waiting for the next shoe to drop. Sam was expecting her to at least scream - something, anything - at something she’d found. What they got was far worse.

“Oh my God,” she whispered, in what sounded like absolute horror, seconds before the sound of retching drifted back to them.

Sam and Dean both clicked on their flashlights and moved forward. What they found, however, caused them to stop, dead in their tracks, again. There were four bodies - if you could still call them that - on the ground. They were so badly clawed and bitten and torn that Sam couldn’t say for sure if they were even male or female. The only thing he was certain of was that at least two of them seemed small enough to be children.

Dean visibly shook himself out of his stupor before kneeling down to Christina. Words of comfort floated up through the fog, though Sam knew they wouldn’t do a damn thing to help ease the horror of the sight in front of them.

Sam focused his attention solely on the mangled bodies, checking the wounds, ones that were semi-visible amidst all the blood, and the surrounding area for signs that it definitely wasn’t a regular animal attack. Of course, he knew it wasn’t. These people hadn’t been camping in the woods or even going for a stroll. There was no camping gear anywhere in the vicinity, nor had they passed any site along the way. They seemed to have been dragged from their homes, still in their pajamas. And, that took thought, a conscience. No pure animal was that smart.

Dean stepped up next to him. “What do we do now? This thing is obviously pissed, Sammy. And we’re running out of time. The first night of the full moon is tomorrow. And we have no idea who it might be.”

“That’s not true,” Christina spoke up from her position against a tree trunk. She looked far too pale for Sam’s liking.

“I have ideas. But, with all the other stuff popping up, I haven’t been able to follow up before the moon’s gone.”

“Mind enlightening us?” Dean said, not unkindly.

Christina didn’t reply. She just got up off the ground and moved toward the carnage. She picked up her flashlight and shone it on the nearest body - what was maybe a little boy. She seemed to find something interesting on the ground there and she stood up with something small in her hand, shining the light more directly on it and sending a glare to the Winchesters’ eyes.

What little color had remained in her face drained as her eyes widened in realization and she glanced back at the bloody mess at her feet.

“No,” she uttered, barely audible even in the quiet stillness of the woods. “Please, no.”

“What? Chris? What is it?” Sam stepped up next to her, grabbing hold of her just in time. She was swaying dangerously on her feet and fell into Sam the second he was by her side.

Then a realization came to him. “You know who that is, don’t you?”

She looked up at him, silent tears leaking out of the corner of her eyes. “This is Seth’s necklace. He’s Jake’s best friend. I think this is his family…his whole family. God, Sam, he had a little sister. Emily. She was only four years old…”

“Hey guys!” Dean called suddenly from across the tiny clearing. “I think you should come here.”

Sam and Christina shared a confused look before heading to where Dean stood looking at something. Christina was still unsteadily relying on Sam, clutching the boy’s necklace tightly in her right hand.

“Look,” Dean said, pointing at the ground.

It was a piece of fabric, looked to be red plaid from Sam’s point of view. A look of something - recognition, maybe - passed over Christina’s face and she leaned down to pick it up. Her body went rigid immediately as she closed her fingers around cloth.

Dean bent down to her with a look of alarm. She was shaking, though from fear or something else wasn’t clear. After a few seconds, she dropped the flashlight and raised both hands to her head, necklace still in her grip, letting out a small whimper.

Both brothers knew that move all too well, and Sam dropped to his knees on her other side as Dean sat down and maneuvered them so that she was cradled against his chest. Her eyes were closed and her face, if it was even possible at this point, had gotten even paler.

After a minute - that seemed more like an hour to Sam - Christina’s body went slack against Dean. Her hands dropped and she opened her eyes, looking at them with a kind of lazy, glazed confusion.

It didn’t last long.

Christina jumped, like something had startled her, and sat up. Her eyes were wide, frantic, and there was a barely-controlled panic evidently thrumming through her body, making her shake again. She looked wildly from Dean to Sam and back again. She was panting, obviously very upset by whatever she’d seen. Sam leaned over and turned her face to him. “What did you see?” he asked softly.

Christina looked like she was having a panic attack, which wasn’t a comfort to Sam or Dean. She was a very controlled person, and if something scared her enough to lose it…well…it wasn’t exactly a good omen.

Sam had no idea what to do, but, thankfully, Dean seemed to. He pulled Christina back against him, whispering in her ear to breathe, and concentrate on his breathing. It looked like it was working - with Dean’s hand right over her heart, she calmed down and began to breathe in synch with him.

After another tense minute or so, during which fear steadily crept into Sam’s veins like ice, she sat up and softly exclaimed, “That bastard!”

The panic seemed to be gone, replaced by a deep-seated anger that shook even Sam to the core. No one was surprised when the ground shook slightly at Christina’s words, powers feeding off her emotions.

“It’s Billy. It’s him. It’s been him all along. Goddammit, I should have known. He came into town shortly before it started. Fuck!”

“Whoa, wait a second here. Billy? The buffoon that wants you?” Dean, try as he might, could not contain the utter glee or the triumph he was feeling at that. Sam knew what he was thinking: now they had a perfect excuse to kill the man that was trying to move in on his woman.

“Yes. Billy. The buffoon. Fucking A…!” she stopped and shook her head, anger obviously boiling over.

“I don’t understand though. I’ve been alone with him so many times…why didn’t I know? Why did I never have a vision?” She was looking at Sam now, like he’d magically have all the answers for her. “And why the fuck did I just nearly pass out from one? That’s never happened before. I mean, I -”

Christina stopped talking and turned to look at Dean. Sam saw her swallow hard enough to make a dull click. Then, she whispered, in a trembling voice, “I need to check on Jake.”

She didn’t let either of them respond; she just bolted up from the ground and took off at a run back to the Impala. Dean spared a glance at Sam, a mixture of confusion and fear, before they both chased after her.

The boys, with their longer legs, reached the car just a split second behind Chris. Sam grabbed her and tried to calm her down while Dean slipped in behind the wheel and started the car. Something was obviously wrong, but she wasn’t telling them. She just kept repeating that she needed to make sure Jake was okay.

Sam’s heart dropped, freezing somewhere in his stomach with absolute dread. He knew what she was thinking. If that was the family of Jake’s friend there in the woods and the wolf had attacked him and his fellow boy scouts last night… This wasn’t good…especially if the wolf was Billy.

He jostled Christina into the back of the car, still holding onto her because the girl looked like she might unravel at any time, and someone would need to collect the pieces. Dean pulled away as Christina started to shake again. Sam did the only thing they could as they sped back towards town - he held on tighter.

* * *

“Why do we need to check on Jake?” Dean asked for what felt like the millionth time as they flew toward the apartment of Christina’s friend and old roommate, Maria.

“I just want him with me. This thing wants a boy and I would just feel a lot better if he were with me, with us. Okay?” Christina snapped, finally giving an answer

“Isn’t your dad supposed to pick him up?” he asked, pressing his luck for another piece of information.

“Not until about 1:00, which means he’s still at Maria’s.” That was it. He heard the sound of her mouth snapping shut.

He could see Christina in the backseat, surrounded by Sam’s long arms and clutching onto his brother’s shirt for dear life. Either she’d seen something that she wasn’t sharing or she was being overly cautious. He hoped it was the latter because he couldn’t fathom Jake not being okay. His heart was racing at the mere notion that the kid might be in some sort of danger because, bloodline aside, he’d become attached to Jake. There was a connection there before anyone had bothered to tell him that they were father and son.

Plus, he’d be damned if they lost another person to fucking Billy.

Dean parked the car in front Maria’s building on the other side of town, away from the forest. Christina disentangled herself from Sam and bolted from the car as soon as it had stopped and the boys took off after her.

Dean could feel his heart beat even faster as he raced up the hallway after her. He kept telling himself, over and over, that Jake was okay. Because he had to be. They’d get up to Maria’s apartment and either find him sound asleep on the couch or safe with his grandparents away from Warsaw. Anything else wasn’t an option.

“Maria?” Christina called from just ahead of them. The Winchesters heard a loud knock followed by the sound of groaning hinges.

The door was either unlocked or open, which was most likely the case. Not. Good.

Dean put on an extra burst of speed, reaching the apartment a good twenty seconds before Sam. Christina glanced back at him as he rounded the corner. She pushed the door the rest of the way open and pulled the gun from the waistband of her jeans, slowly walking inside.

“Maria? Jake?” she called as Dean followed suit, pulling his gun out of his jacket and walking in behind her.

“Jake? You here, buddy?” he asked loudly as he crossed the threshold.

Christina looked back again as Sam entered the apartment, gun also at the ready, and Dean nodded at her to check the hallway. He glanced around the living room. Nothing seemed out of place. There were no signs of a struggle. But, the whole place was eerily quiet and he didn’t like it. A 9-year-old boy should have talked his babysitter into some sort of horror movie and a big bowl of popcorn by now. It was either that or the babysitter watching some sappy romantic comedy while the boy was asleep a few feet away or in a guest bedroom.

Christina screamed.

Dean’s head whipped around as he took off toward the hallway on the heels of his brother, who’d been closer. Christina was standing in an open doorway, gun pointed to the floor, breathing like she’d just run a five-mile marathon in thirty seconds. Her wide, horror-filled eyes were focused on something in the room and her left hand was covering her mouth in shock.

Dean wasn’t prepared for what he saw. There was blood all over the tiny bedroom; it seemed like no inch was left clean. In the middle of the room was a terribly mangled body, worse even than the family from the woods, and he literally gagged at the sight. Sure he’d seen his share of gore over the past 26 years, but this was worse than anything he’d ever come across. The blood seemed fresh; it looked to be still wet and dripping, splattered obscenely across the walls.

Having come to a stop directly behind Christina, he wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her away from the carnage, yelling back to Sam to check the rest of the place. He took her back into the living room and sat her down on the, thankfully, blood-free couch, kneeling on the floor in front of her.

“Hey,” he whispered, cupping her face and vaguely wondering how it was still tear-free. Her eyes were dancing wildly, darting around the room and never sticking to his face for very long. “You need to breathe, Chris. Just breathe, okay? Calm down for me, baby.”

At the last word, her eyes stopped moving, and he got her gaze focused on him. She took a deep breath and said, “That was Maria. Jake isn’t here.”

There was an odd monotonic quality to her voice that worried Dean; it lacked the passion that usually characterized everything she said, the Christina West way of speaking. This detachment made him really fear for his son’s life.

“How do you know that?” he forced out through a tight throat.

“I saw it,” she replied simply, still in that eerie, calm manner. “When I touched the bedroom door to push it open, I saw it.” Her eyes started to wander again and she turned her head away.

He tightened his hold on her head and forced her to look at him again. “Where is he?”

That’s when she started to ramble, voice pitchy and frightened. “I don’t know. I don’t know where he is or how he got out, if he got away, I couldn’t see it, Dean, I tried to see it, I did, but it wouldn’t come, all I could see was Maria getting attacked, couldn’t even see what attacked her, ‘course I’m sure it was the wolf, Billy, can’t believe Billy’s the wolf, we gotta find him, gotta stop -”

Dean did the only thing he knew could stop her talking: he pulled her face down to him and kissed her. She didn’t react at first and he could feel her mouth still moving, still trying to form words. After a few seconds, she seemed to just melt. He felt her tongue swiping across his lips as she brought her hands up to his back pulling them closer together. He opened his mouth, more than willingly, getting lost in the taste of her. He knew she was trying to block out her fear for a few seconds, just as he was - though both knew it wouldn’t work for long, if at all.

Christina gasped into his mouth and pulled away quickly, just as they heard Sam clear his throat across the room.

“Oh my God” and “He’s not here” were spoken at the exact same time and Dean wasn’t quite sure which came from whom, too lightheaded from the essence of Christina.

“It all makes sense now,” Christina said, bringing Dean back to himself, the present and the reality that his son wasn’t anywhere to be found.

He stared up at her, unblinking, and watched as her face hardened into anger, leaving the traces of horror behind. Her eyes met his again and he was almost afraid of her, of the fire.

“You saw something when I kissed you? What did you see?” he asked, quietly, trying to make his voice as soothing as possible. ‘Placate the crazy lady’ was always a good rule of thumb.

“I didn’t get clear images. But I know that the bastard has Jake. That’s why he’s been pursuing me so heavily, why he doesn’t let up, why he feels the need to protect me from every male on the planet…why he got so pissed when you showed up in town. Earlier today, when he was there…at my house. I think he could smell you on me still. Or smell me on you… I dunno, something. That’s why he was so pissed.”

Christina’s voice got angrier and her words came faster as she went on. Dean got up to sit on the coffee table in front of her as Sam came and sat next to her on the couch, sending Dean a look that he could read all too well: What the fuck do we do now?

“He wants Jake…because he wants me. Oh, God, this whole thing is my fault,” she finished; looking down at the floor as tears visibly began to fill her eyes.

Dean reached out, turned her face back towards him and Sam. “It’s okay,” he said, thumb rubbing slightly over her cheekbone. “This isn’t your fault. It’s not like you asked to be targeted by some demented werewolf.”

“Yeah,” Sam chimed in. “You didn’t start this. He did and we’re going to finish it.”

“How are we going to find him?” She spoke meekly, her voice lacking all strength.

“I don’t know, Chris. But we will,” Sam said.

“We have to,” Dean finished for all three of them.

Christina looked up, glancing between the two of them. She gave them a half-smile before she got up and walked out the front door, taking her cell phone out of her jacket pocket. They both stared after her until they heard her begin talking to the ranger…whateverhisnamewas. John? Jack? …Joey?

Dean turned back to Sam. “How are we going to find this guy? Or find out where he’s got Jake?”

He wasn’t surprised to find that he was on the verge of tears himself. His son could be dead - or worse, a werewolf - before he’d ever get a chance to really know him. He couldn’t let that happen.

Sam was looking at him with a sympathetic gaze that should have been irritating but was oddly comforting. “I don’t know, man. But, we will.”

Dean nodded when Sam reached over and squeezed his shoulder. Chick-flick issue aside, he really was grateful that his brother could understand him without direct questions. He had no idea how he would have survived the past few years without Sammy with him, though he’d always regretted not forcing Sam to go back to school. In the end, the Winchesters were a team. And, both of them knew that.

“Thanks, man,” he muttered.

Sam nodded. “Christina’s the only one that can really help us with this, though. I guess we’ll just have to wait until her head clears. There’s no way she’d be able to give us a clue as to where to start looking, not now, not like this.”

“Yeah, I know,” Dean agreed. Then something occurred to him. “Billy wants Christina…so he wants to form some sort of royal family…we’re not leaving her alone tonight, right? We’re not going back to the motel.”

Sam smiled at him, humor showing in his eyes again after a rough few hours. “Dean. I didn’t expect you to come back to the motel at all, even if everything were perfectly safe.”

Dean had to laugh at that. “Yeah, yeah, I know. But two of us are better than one. I can’t be on the lookout if -”

“-you’re otherwise engaged,” Sam finished with a smirk.

Dean reached over and smacked the side of his head. “I was going to say ‘too concerned about her,’ jackass.”

“Uh huh, I’m sure you were.”

Dean was about to say something else, or just start pounding his little brother, when Christina walked back in.

“I called Dad…told him not to come for Jake…I didn’t give him too many details…can’t have him worrying and trying to interfere…that didn’t turn out so well last time.” She said the last part with a warm smile that looked foreign on her otherwise fear-ridden face.

She took a deep breath and went on, “He knows that Jake’s gone, though he doesn’t know by whom. He told me to tell you two to get his grandson back…that if you can do that, he might just forgive you…for, y’know…knocking me up.”

Dean laughed, a little uncomfortably. “Yeah, I’m sure that’s likely.”

Christina gave him a meaningful look. “You’d be surprised how much a grandchild can change someone, Dean.”

Sam cleared his throat. “So, what’s our game plan? We’re not leaving you alone tonight, no chance in Hell, and I don’t think anyone’s in much of a mood to try and figure this all out tonight. So, we have two options. You come to the motel with us or we stay at your place with you. What’s it gonna be?”

She stared at them both, head cocked to the side in a show of thinking. Her bottom lip was gripped between her teeth as she tried to figure out the best course of action and Dean had to sit on his hands to keep from reaching out to her. Boundaries, man, boundaries.

“Well…I doubt either of them would be too safe. Your motel room is on the ground floor so he could get in through the door and the windows.”

“That’s how he got in here, the window of that room was busted in,” Sam interjected.

Chris went on, hardly acknowledging the interruption, “My apartment’s on the third floor which means that there’s only one surefire way in. I guess he could still get in through the window if he really tried. But, my door’s outlined in silver.”

Sam whistled and Dean chuckled. “Silver, eh?” Sam asked incredulously. “That’s pretty damn smart.”

Christina shrugged. “Yeah, well, you do what you can to protect your kid. I figured it might come in handy.”

Something clicked in Dean’s brain. “That’s why he didn’t want to come in…but, then…how’d he knock?”

“He probably kicked the door. And, yeah, that’s why he didn’t want to come in. He’s never come in my place, come to think of it. Not only is there enough silver in the door and the door jamb to pay off the Queen of England, there are millions of protective charms on that place.”

“Alright, your place it is then,” Sam stated, clapping his hands and heading out the door.

Dean followed his brother, but turned back at the threshold, noticing that Christina hadn’t moved. She was staring down the hallway, tears slipping down her face. She looked to be mumbling something under breath, probably a prayer or the last rites, as hunters were sometimes wont to do.

“Chris? You coming?”

His voice jolted her out of her reverie and she turned to him, a slight smile gracing her pretty face. He noticed that, even with tear streaks, she was beautiful. He held out his hand.

“Yeah, I’m coming,” she replied, grasping his hand. She closed her eyes and stood there until he reached out his other hand to wipe away a stray tear.

“I’m sorry, Christina,” he murmured, wishing he could say or do something else, anything else, to erase the pain he knew she had to be feeling. “I am so, so sorry.”

She opened her eyes and he had to smile because the fire was back in her eyes. “I know, Dean. Thank you.”

He pulled on her hand and she followed him out, glancing back only once after the door was closed. He heard her faintly whisper, “Goodbye.”

Sam was waiting behind the wheel of the Impala as they came out of the entranceway. Dean climbed in the backseat with Christina and she lay down in his lap as he settled himself against the seat. Sam muttered something about stopping by the motel for clothes and Dean nodded his agreement. After all, he was still wearing his clothes from the previous day, too caught up in Christina and Jake all day to stop by and change.

He ran his fingers through Christina’s long hair, noticing that it hadn’t gotten any less soft in the time they were separated. He leaned his head against the back of the seat and let out a deep sigh. His life had gotten so complicated over the past forty-eight hours and he kept trying to feel overwhelmed, because he knew that’s how he should feel.

But, as Christina reached up and linked her left hand with his, he couldn’t feel anything but happier. Sammy and Christina may have been the psychics but Dean had always had intuitions, hunches, ones that had never failed him. And, he felt like things were going to turn out okay - for all of them. Why else would Christina and Jake have suddenly been thrown into his life? The fates were working out their plan the best way they knew how. And, trauma always had a knack of bringing people together.

Maybe he and Christina needed to go through this to find their place: in life and with each other. Long ago, he’d believed that they were meant to be. Christina’s leaving had turned him bitter, cynical to the idea of fate and destiny. But, who’s to say he wasn’t right? Maybe it was time to turn over a new leaf. Again.

He heard Christina’s breathing even out and looked down. She was asleep. He couldn’t stop the grin that spread across his face. He remembered how easily she’d fallen asleep when they were together, always wearing herself down until her body couldn’t take it anymore. He stopped playing with her hair and traced his fingers across her face. He traced her cheekbones and her jaw line, the lips he loved so much, the big eyes that never failed to fill him with so much love. He’d never get tired of looking at her.

“Dude, you’re ogling,” Sam whispered from the front seat.

Dean looked up and met his brother’s eyes in the rearview mirror. He didn’t say anything back, just smiled wider and went back to the girl in his lap. He stood by his initial decision.

They were meant to be.

And he was going to prove that to her, to everyone.

Chapter Seven

Christina was only faintly aware of being carried up to her apartment, but she was too exhausted - physically and emotionally - to wake herself up and figure out what was going on. She knew on some basic, instinctive level that Dean was the one who had her - maybe it was muscle memory of some sort. Like riding a bike, you never forget the feeling of your first love.

She was laid down on her bed and immediately turned to face the edge, opening her eyes enough to see Dean looking down at her, with an odd look. He didn’t seem to know she was awake, just kept brushing her hair off her forehead, and she closed her eyes again, relishing in the feeling of his gentle movements.

The ache in her chest that she’d carried around for so long had been slowly fading over the past couple days. And, while that would seem like a good thing to anyone else, it terrified her. For years she’d refused to admit why it was there, or even acknowledge it at all, and now it was right in her face, well within her grasp. But, what would happen when it was time for him to leave again? Would it be easier to handle the second time around? Or would she be more depressed than she was before? And what would happen to Jake? It was obvious that he’d already bonded with his father. Would the past ten years add up to nothing and leave her to deal with Jake’s broken heart on top of her own?

She found it incredibly ironic that her son was missing, in the hands of an otherworldly killer, and she knew it was going to be okay just because Dean was there. Dean: the man she’d run away from. Her initial panic had subsided to a dull throb, replaced by a fierce determination to put Billy down for good. She may not have been able to do it by herself, and she was willing to admit that. But Dean was there. And Sam. And she knew the Winchesters wouldn’t let anything bad happen: not to her, not to Jake.

The feeling of Dean’s hand suddenly disappeared and she heard him walk out of the room, leaving her to deal with her ghosts alone.

She rolled onto her back and opened her eyes to stare at the ceiling, now wide-awake. She tried to summon up enough courage, enough strength, to reach out to her son, wherever he may be. She knew he was still alive, whether it was a mother’s intuition or her own, supernatural power. But, her exhaustion and fear were clouding her mind, blocking her telepathy.

Pushing away all thoughts of the Winchesters and Billy, she pictured Jake and focused on him. In her mind’s eye, she could clearly see his dirty blonde hair, his bold green eyes, the defined nose and strong jaw that were so much like his father’s. She pictured him turning toward her, looking straight at her, and concentrated on his eyes, the window to her little boy’s soul.

Suddenly, there it was - his little voice in her head - and she cried out in surprise.

I’m okay, Mom. There's still time for you to find me. I know you and Sam and Dean will come for me. I trust you, Mommy.

Where are you Jake?

I dunno…a cave, I think. But it’s like a house, too. Mom…I’m scared.

I know, baby.

But you’ll come get me. You’ll save me. You and Dad and Uncle Sam.

Christina was speechless, even in her head. How could a nine-year-old boy have such confidence in her, when she’d never shown much in herself? How could he have so much faith in Sam and Dean, people he’d just met? How was he, seemingly, not falling apart?

I’m okay, Mom. Go to sleep. You’ll need it.

And with that, Jake’s voice and warm presence in her head were gone.

She sat up and opened her eyes, not realizing that she’d closed them again, and met the concerned gaze of both Winchesters. She grinned at them, the action feeling somehow genuine to her strained psyche, and said, “He’s okay.”

“How do you know that, Chris?” Dean asked precariously, perching on the side of the bed, looking like he was ready to bolt at the first sign of trouble.

Sam smacked him in the side of the head. “Did you miss the whole psychic thing?”

Christina giggled while Dean rubbed his head. She turned to Sam and started again, “He’s okay. He doesn’t know exactly where he is, though. He mentioned something about a cave that was a house. I don’t know…it seems like that should be familiar to me…”

“Did he say anything else?” Dean interrupted.

She twisted around to look at him and was taken aback by how much fear was showing in his eyes. He really was worried about Jake, and she could feel her heart clench at the thought of him leaving again.

But, she gave him a soft smile, hoping it hid the pain, and placed one of her hands on the one of his that was clenching the sheets, feeling it relax underneath her fingers. “He said,” she replied, “that he knows we’ll find him, that he trusts me and ‘Uncle Sam’ and ‘Dad.’”

Dean’s eyes lit up like a Christmas tree at the word “Dad.” If Sam noticed, he had the good grace not to poke fun. Christina figured he was probably thinking the same thing she was: Dean could step into the role of father figure quite easily. Because he had never gotten the chance, had never received complete honest unconditional love like that, he would spoil Jake rotten if he had the chance. Well, if it weren’t for the whole “traveling man” thing.

Sam cleared his throat and Christina tore her gaze away from Dean, blushing. She finished, “He said to get some rest…because we’d need it. Then he was gone.”

As soon as the last words were out of her mouth, she felt all of her energy fade out, adrenaline surge having run its course, and she slumped over against Dean, without meaning to. Dean caught her, chuckling along with Sam.

She scooted back up on the bed, with a lot of assistance from Dean. He pulled down the covers for her and she settled in, closing her eyes almost immediately. She felt Dean move away and just barely managed to hold back the whine that threatened to escape.

A few minutes, or maybe just seconds, later, she heard a murmured conversation between the brothers then someone slid into bed next to her and pulled her to him. She sighed and rolled over, snuggling in Dean’s arms. He tightened his hold on her and she heard him speak. She couldn’t figure out what he was saying, though, because there was one thought interrupting anything that filtered in:

Home.

* * *

Sam woke up at 3:00 in the morning after only an hour or so of sleep, instantly alert but unable to figure out the reason. There was a funny sensation tugging at the edge of his brain, like he’d had a dream that he didn’t remember having, a dream with important information.

He sat up on the pullout couch bed and glanced at his surroundings, trying to see if something was out of place. Of course, that was tough to do when you were in unfamiliar territory to begin with.

Seeing nothing obviously wrong, he untangled his long limbs from the blankets and padded to the kitchen, uneasy feeling never leaving the pit of his stomach. He found the glasses in the fifth cabinet he tried. He pulled one out, and smiled at all the traces of Jake he saw behind it. Christina had even kept some of the sippy cups that toddlers were so fond of, complete with pictures of Buzz Lightyear and Batman. He knew Dean would have approved of the Batman theme.

It wasn’t until he glanced nonchalantly out of the small kitchen window that he saw what had woken him up. He ducked down quickly, barely managing to set the glass in the sink without shattering it, and stealthily made his way to the master bedroom.

The door was wide open - so Dean or Sam could easily hear if the other needed help - and he quickly strode to Dean’s side of the bed. He hated to wake them; they looked so peaceful lying there together. Alas, duty called.

Sam reached out to shake Dean, who rolled over and opened his eyes. Seeing Sam standing there, he sat up quickly, slipping his arms from around Christina, face immediately going into ‘hunter mode.’ Sam motioned with his head toward the hallway and Dean nodded, sliding out of bed as quietly as possible so as not to wake Christina.

Dean followed Sam out of the room, pausing only to throw a worried look back at Chris, obviously not wanting to leave her alone. Nonetheless, they hurried out into the living room. Sam crouched down underneath the big window and Dean followed suit, both peeking up over the windowsill like two kids spying on their neighbors.

“I’ll be damned,” Dean whispered.

“What?” Sam whispered back, eyes never leaving the three wolves at the edge of the road, bordering the woods. They seemed to be looking up at the building and he got the feeling they were trying to see movement inside the West apartment.

“Christina, last night,” Dean said after a few moments of shocked silence, “she woke me up, said there was something outside. By the time she got me to the window, there was nothing, no one there. I think she half-convinced herself that she was dreaming, so I just let it go. But this? This proves what she’s thinking. This bastard does want her. And Jake.”

He went quiet after that and Sam didn’t know what to say. He was sure that his brother’s head was still spinning from the revelation of a son and, really, what could you say to that? “I’m sorry that your spawn has been alive for almost ten years and you didn’t know, and I’m doubly sorry that he’s now wanted by some psychotic werewolf?” That wasn’t likely to sit well with Dean and it was all he could come up with, mind still focused on the fact that they weren’t facing just one werewolf.

So, they both just sat on the floor and watched the animals, which hadn’t moved an inch, save for a shuffling of furry feet. Sam wasn’t sure how long they sat there, but suddenly a fourth, larger wolf emerged from the shadow of the trees, eyes glowing red in the streetlights. It looked up at the building, and then, after ten minutes, it looked over at the other beasts. With nary a sound, all four turned and headed into the cover of the forest.

That’s when Christina screamed.

* * *

Dean was off the floor in a second, flying towards the bedroom with impossible speed, not caring if Sam was behind him or not. He reached the bed just as Christina stopped screaming and sat up, breathing heavily. Her bangs were plastered to her forehead, her face flushed, her dark eyes wild and unfocused.

He grabbed her shoulders and pulled her into him, letting his breath out in a relieved rush when she clung onto him. She immediately started crying, hot tears soaking the collar of his shirt and his neck where she’d buried her face. Sobs were wracking her body and he just held on tighter, willing her terror to disappear so she could tell them what she’d seen.

After a few minutes and several worried glances between the Winchesters, Christina spoke into Dean’s skin, “You can’t go.”

Dean blinked up at Sam and pushed Chris away so he could get a good look at her and hear better. He was half-convinced that she hadn’t said what he’d heard. She still looked frightened, but determined to get her way, knowing that Dean was usually powerless against her. But there were some things that just weren’t happening, and he couldn’t honestly believe that she wanted them to let her deal with Billy - not just Billy, he reminded himself, but at least three others - on her own.

Sam moved closer and sat on the other side of Christina. “What did you see?” he asked softly.

Her eyes flitted to Sam for a split second before they focused on her lap. “You can’t go,” she repeated. “You can’t help me save Jake.”

Dean was shocked and instantly outraged. Christina had the nerve to tell him he couldn’t save his own son? He managed to force out a simple, controlled, “Why?”

“Because you’re going to die, both of you. I saw it. Billy kills you, Dean, and another kills Sam. I get knocked out and I can’t help you. I get hurt trying to protect one of you, Jake gets hurt too badly to try to help and we lose. I get changed, Jake gets changed and you both die and Billy wins. You can’t go. You’re not helping me. I can’t worry about you, save Jake, and kill Billy. You’re not going with me. You can’t. I’m not letting you die, either one of you.”

She paused in her ramblings to glance up at Dean. Then she said, in a shattered voice, “Please.”

Dean understood where she was coming from, he did, having spent far too much of his time pushing Sam away from the hunts, keeping him on research, trying to keep him safe. But, being a Winchester and a hunter and a damned decent human being, there was no way she was facing a pack of werewolves alone - psychic powers or not. A quick glance at Sam showed he was thinking the same thing.

Besides, that was his son out there.

Sam nodded at his brother and reached over to stop Christina’s wringing hands. “Chris, you know we can’t do that, won’t do that. We’re not going to let you go in there alone.”

“You have to,” she whispered, looking at Sam’s hand on hers. “I won’t let you die for this. I won’t let you die in my town, on my watch. This isn’t your fight. I’m the one he wants. Jake and I can handle this on our own, I know we can. But you can’t be there. I need a clear head for anything to work, for my powers to be effective.”

She stopped for a moment and looked at the brothers. There was something strange in her eyes. “This isn’t your fight,” she repeated, quieter, fearful. “It’s mine.”

Dean exploded up off the bed, anger turning to acid in his veins. Clenching his fists, he stalked over to the window and tried, desperately, to control himself. After a few seconds of little result, he turned back to Sam and Christina, who were both staring at him with wide eyes.

“Not my fight?” he spat out, taking a step toward the bed. “How the hell is this not my fight? This bastard wants Jake, my son. And he wants you! You’re -”

“I’m what?” Christina suddenly yelled, climbing off the bed with amazing agility and shocking both brothers. “What am I in relation to you? Why the fuck does it matter if Billy wants me? What are you going to do? You were ready to bolt this morning, without any acknowledgment that anything had happened between us. Now you want to stake a claim? Well, you’re ten fucking years too late, Dean!”

Christina stopped her tirade mere inches from Dean. He was a little surprised at her anger, but was too pissed off to really care. He was sure that the expression on his face was a complete mirror of Christina’s, contorted into a mask of anger, pain.

“Maybe I wouldn’t have been too late if you hadn’t run away.”

“I didn’t run away. There was no running. And, hell, it’s not like you couldn’t have found me, Dean! My dad had a job with the same fucking company! How hard would it have been to snoop around?! Huh? How much digging would it have taken to realize I was in Kentucky, in plain sight?! You had ten years to step up. You had a year before that even! With me right in front of you! But, now that your supposed territory is threatened, you’re going to try the predatory act on me?”

“My supposed territory? Jake is my son! A son, which you never let me get to know! So, yeah, I’m sorry that I want to keep him and his mother safe. I’m sorry I want him to stay alive so I can get the chance that you stole from me!”

“Get out,” she growled in a barely controlled voice.

Dean could see her shaking and he knew, instinctively, that he was shaking too; he knew he’d gone too far, but wasn’t able to stop. He could feel the blood rushing through his ears, pounding in his brain, his head and his heart warring between their respective emotions. He wanted to make everything right with Chris, he wanted to make something work with her, unwilling to let her just walk away again. That was his heart’s say, pulsing the truth into him like oxygen. His head was infusing him with all of the things he should be feeling - the outrage for keeping their son a secret, for leaving him with a broken heart, for ripping apart his dreams. He knew that his head was wrong, without a doubt, but that didn’t stop the adrenaline from drilling it into him.

With nothing else to say, he ground out, “Fine.” Then, he turned and stalked out to the living room.

He threw himself on Sam’s vacated couch-bed and willed his breathing back to a normal rate. He could faintly hear a conversation going on in his wake, Christina’s voice interrupted by stuttering breaths, Sam’s deeper voice rumbling in what Dean assumed was supposed to be a soothing tone.

He told himself that he wished they’d never set foot in Kentucky, if this was the cost.

Even as the words were running through his mind, though, he knew they weren’t true.

He wished they’d come to Kentucky a helluva lot sooner.

* * *

Christina sighed heavily as she clicked on the bathroom light, reluctantly looking in the mirror. After the vision and the subsequent blow-up with Dean, she hadn’t been able to even close her eyes for the rest of the night. Every time she did, the image of Dean’s broken body fixed itself upon her eyelids, reminding her of her failure.

“It’s not going to happen,” she whispered to herself as she took in the bags under her eyes, the puffiness from too much crying, the dull fear radiating from her very soul. “I won’t let it happen.”

She sighed again, feeling like she belonged in some after-school special, and stepped in the shower, turning the water nearly as hot as it would go. She couldn’t really feel it anyway.

Sam had spent the rest of the night in her room, sitting or snoozing in a chair by the window. Then, he and Dean had gone back to their motel to get ready or something like that. Dean hadn’t even looked at her as they’d walked out the door. He hadn’t looked at her at all that morning and it was killing her. She hadn’t meant to get that upset or piss him off that much.

If the roles were reversed, he’d have asked the same thing of her and she knew that, which only made her angrier.

Angry or not though, she wanted him with her. She thought that she was going to lose him again and she didn’t want that to happen, not in the least. She was scared. She was terrified of what she was feeling, already so attached to him again. But, she would rather have him walk away from her than die because of her. She was not going to apologize. And, of course, neither would he.

“Dammit!” she screamed into the steady stream of water, slamming her fist into the tile. She instantly regretted that action when her knuckles started to throb and blood began to seep out of the busted skin.

“Hey, now. We can’t have you damaged if you’re going to fight werewolves,” Dean said, genuine concern infusing his voice, as he pulled back the shower curtain and stepped in.

Christina had something to say to that, she really did. But, it all filtered out of her mind because Dean was there. Dean came back. And, Dean was worried about a minor cut. Dean cared.

And, far more importantly, Dean was naked.

He moved closer and turned them, so that the water was beating down on his back and he could get a better look at her hand. He grabbed and pulled it toward the semi-transparent curtain, to get it in better light. The blood had stopped almost as soon as it had begun, the water having washed it all away. The cuts weren’t deep but the pain was still there, erasing some of the numbness from moments ago.

“I think you’ll be okay,” Dean whispered, raising her knuckles to his lips and gently kissing the broken skin.

Her eyes followed his movements as she struggled to make her throat work properly. And her brain. Yeah, higher brain function might be necessary to speak… But, she couldn’t get past the fact that he had come back, choosing to forgo the obvious nakedness of him.

Dean laughed and reached out to cup her face, forcing her eyes up to his. She was expecting the humor, the mocking, but she wasn’t prepared for the love shining in his eyes.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, rubbing his thumb in slight circles along her jaw line. “I shouldn’t have said some of those things.”

“Me, too.” So, that’s where her voice had gotten to. “Well, for what I said. I’m not sorry that I told you not to go.”

Oh, great, just great Chris. Screw it up again while he’s naked in front of you in all his Grecian glory.

He sighed and smiled at her. “Yeah, I wasn’t expecting you to take that back. But, you do realize we’re going right?”

When she opened her mouth to protest, he leaned down and kissed her.

“I’m talking,” he said, choosing to ignore the daggers she was shooting at him. Oh, if only he knew how well she’d developed the telekinesis…

“We’re going with you because neither one of us wants to take the risk that you or Jake will get hurt. I said it last night and I’ll say it again: Jake is my son. I want to get to know the kid. I want to be a father to him. And, you…”

He paused for a moment, and glanced away, like it was easier to say what he needed to if there was no eye contact. “Well, I’m not really sure what you are to me, not yet… But, I care about you…a whole hell of a lot and I would never forgive myself if you got hurt, or worse, turned into one of them. I can’t lose you again, Chris…I just can’t. So, Sam and I are going with you, whether you want us there or not. Okay?”

Christina didn’t even try to say anything. Dean was stubborn, Sam was stubborn and she was too - they were just going to end up in a stalemate if she tried to argue. Plus, Dean was naked, she was naked and the water was still going full strong…

She took the small step that would press their bodies together and stood on her tiptoes to kiss Dean, easily sliding her tongue into his mouth when he opened it on a low moan. His arms slid around her waist and pulled, making their bodies completely flush.

She could feel his erection hardening, lengthening, against her stomach and tried, desperately not to giggle. She was in an odd state of mind; she was allowed to find things like that amusing. Hell, she was facing the impending death of not only herself, but her child and his father and uncle as well.

She forgot about all the humor when Dean did something with his tongue that had her moaning like a whore and digging her nails into his back. His body arched at the stimulation and he kissed her more fiercely. A minute later, he pulled away, panting like he’d run a marathon.

“Con - condom?” he asked.

She laid her head on his shoulder. “In my - in my room, bed - bedside table,” she replied.

Dean groaned, shoulders falling. “Do we really need it?”

Christina started calculating in her head. The last had been…

She shook her head. “Prolly not,” she said, still doing the math and hoping that she was right. It’s not like her brain was all there yet. “Last day of my period was three days ago, and it’s right before when the risk is high, and I’m on birth control…so we can take the chance. If you want.”

He made a disgusted face, pulling back enough for her to see it. “Did I seriously need to know when your last period was?”

She laughed and smacked his arm. “Well, maybe not, but it doesn’t seem like it’s bothering you too much,” she said, looking pointedly down at his erection.

She managed to find her head long enough to tease with a long, slow stroke - without her hands ever touching him. His eyes widened in shock, even as a low moan escaped him at the phantom touch.

“So what’s it gonna be? You going to get one?”

Dean looked down at her with eyes that were lust-blown, green barely visible around the black pupils. His lips were kissed-swollen and his face was flushed. He looked completely debauched, and she was sure that she looked the same.

“If you’re okay, I’m okay.”

She winked. “I’m okay.”

“Okay.”

He leaned down and captured her lips again. He picked her up a few inches off the tub floor, tightening his arms, and turned their bodies so that he was directly under the spray again and she had her back against the slick tiles. He shifted his feet, trying to get a better foothold on the textured, no-slip mat.

Right when he moved his hands to either side of her waist to lift her up, she pulled away from his mouth and said, “You don’t have any icky diseases I need to know about, right?”

He paused and tilted his head, giving her a comical look. “Uh…not that I’m aware of. Besides I’m always careful and -”

She gave him a skeptical look, so he amended that statement. “Okay, I’m usually careful. I don’t want to leave little Deans -”

Another look. He sighed, “- any more little Deans around. Satisfied?”

“Very. Fuck me now?”

“Gladly.”

Without any more hesitation, she braced her hands on his shoulders and he lifted her up. He held her suspended for a second and she reached down, guiding his dick where it needed to go, and wrapped her legs around his waist. She nodded and he started lowering her down, slowly, obviously not wanting to hurt her since there was no foreplay. Luckily, she was turned on enough, natural juices aplenty, and he slid in without a hitch.

Once he was as deep in her as he could go, she wrapped her arms around his shoulders and leaned in, resting her head against the tanned skin. He shifted around slightly, getting a better stance and a better grip on her, and she groaned at the stimulation.

“Move,” she panted into his neck.

“Yes, ma’am,” he whispered, hot breath ghosting over her ear sending a shiver down her spine.

He tightened his hold on her waist and lifted her up until he was halfway out. She tightened her legs and used her arms on his shoulders to move her hips up with him. Being as tender as he could, he pushed back into her, drawing a moan out of both of them, the vibrations bouncing from one to the other.

He got a steady rhythm going, not quite slamming into her, but the thrusts were hard enough to be deep and make her wonder if Mr. and Mrs. Conner, the elderly couple next door, were home. She pulled back - making Dean whine at the loss of her mouth and teeth against his neck - and leaned against the wall. He leaned forward, mouthing at her neck and trailing down. He moved over and, neck at an awkward angle, took one nipple into his mouth, tongue swirling over the sensitive skin, making her writhe and hit the wall with her uninjured hand, nails of the other digging in to his shoulder. He moved over to the other as she let one hand trail down in between them, moving it against her clit in time with his thrusts, which were starting to speed up.

She could feel the build-up coming and dug into his shoulder harder, sure that there would be crescent shapes in his skin for days to come. He arched up at the contact and she moved forward, kissing and biting a trail up and down the side of his neck, their renewed closeness tightening her walls around him and making him moan with pleasure.

With a low grunt and a whispered “Christina,” he came, his hot liquid shooting into her. He kept up his erratic thrusting to get her off. Not long after, she came with a near-scream muffled into the skin of his neck, trying not the clamp down with her teeth.

As the shudders retreated from both of them, Dean lifted Christina up and off him, wincing at the stimulation on oversensitive skin. She then slumped back against the wall, still breathing heavily, vision white at the edges. He leaned over, some of his weight resting against her, holding them both upright. With his breath blowing across her neck, she leaned forward a few inches and placed small kisses on the skin she could reach.

He laughed and kissed her shoulder in return. “Guess you should actually shower now, huh?”

She laughed with him. “Well, that is what I stepped in here to do.”

“Then let’s get to it,” he said, with another kiss placed on her lips.

Not sure how the water was still warm, they set about getting each other clean - literally clean, she had to keep reminding herself, no dirty innuendos. The feeling of his hands on her, fingers massaging the shampoo into her hair, was so amazing that she suddenly had a desire to tie him up so that he could never leave. She was fairly certain that he wouldn’t complain - much.

Dean got out of the tub and wrapped a towel around his waist, one that he’d apparently gotten from the hall closet. Knotting it, he motioned for Christina to step out and he wrapped another towel, one of the oversized ones that she adored, around her body, rubbing the warmth back into her arms. She gazed up at him dreamily, trying to keep the emotion hidden from him, but probably failing miserably.

When he caught her looking, he stilled his movements and smiled down at her. “Hey,” he whispered.

“Hey,” she whispered back.

“So…yesterday…before Sam so rudely interrupted us…you were gonna tell me what you wanted…what this thing is between us…”

Uh-oh. What did she want? Think fast, Chris. Don’t say the wrong thing. Don’t blurt out how much you still love him, how much you want him in your life. Don’t let him know how much you need him. Don’t drive him away with the wrong words.

But, don’t make it awkward either. Don’t beg.

“What do you want, Dean?” She said it softly and was almost afraid that he hadn’t heard it. She shifted her eyes away from his intense gaze and stared at the floor.

Dean moved his hands up to her shoulders and tugged her into a hug. “Chris,” he started and then stopped.

She didn’t push, just rested her head against his chest, ear flush against his heartbeat. She pulled her arms somewhat out of the overly large towel and wrapped them around Dean’s torso, listening to the rhythm speed up at the contact.

“I want you,” he mumbled into her hair.

She sighed, half relief, half-exasperation, and closed her eyes. Well, Dean wanted her…she’d guessed that much. But, just how did he want her? Did he still love her? Did he want to be with her? Did he want to try to be a family, regardless of how abnormal it would be?

Or did he want her only for the moment? Only until he moved to the next town and the next lay? How long would he want her?

What the hell did it all mean?!

Christina was just about to voice all of her concerns when there came a loud knock on the bathroom door.

“Hey, guys…I think you need to see this!” Sam called through the wood.

Christina pulled away with a start, tightening the towel around her again like Sam could see her. “The hell? You didn’t tell me Sam was here!” she shrieked at Dean, heat flooding her face. “You let - we did that - with him in there?!”

Dean laughed and ducked, narrowly avoiding her flying fist. “No, Chris. He just showed up. I do have some dignity left, you know.”

“Oh, whatever. Just…go…get…dressed. Or something,” she said, waving him away.

“All right, fine. But, Chris? We’re finishing this later.”

He walked out into the master bedroom, leaving her in the bathroom to change into the clothes she’d brought in with her. She did so quickly, running a brush through her hair and pulling the wet strands back into a haphazard ponytail before joining the boys. She found them standing in the entranceway, staring at a piece of paper in Sam’s hand. Neither of them looked happy.

“C’mere,” Dean called when she was halfway down the hall.

Her heart leapt into her throat as she stepped forward, legs much heavier than they’d been 30 seconds ago. What the hell had happened now? Jake couldn’t be gone…she’d have felt it. The mother-child bond between them was almost constant and if he were hurt, she knew instantly. So, if he were dead, she’d know. There wouldn’t be a Jake-like warmth in her heart, in her head. It was still there, though - faded, but there. So what could possibly be on that paper?

Dean wrapped his arm around her shoulder as she reached them, and pulled her flush against his side. With his free hand, he took the scrap from Sam and put it in front of her face. There, in a handwriting she faintly recognized, was written:

Uncle Sam, don’t lose sight of the wolves. You can control your power if you try. Dad, concentrate on Billy, Mom will get me. Just concentrate on stopping the ritual. Mommy, you know where to go. Remember. You’ll save me. I love you, Mommy.

“Jake,” she whispered unconsciously.

“Where did you find this?” she asked Sam, eyes never leaving the note.

She could see Sam shifting in her peripheral vision. He cleared his throat and said, “Uh…that sheriff guy? Whateverhisnameis? He was standing at the door to your apartment when I got here. He looked really confused, said that he had no idea how he’d gotten here or why he wrote the note in his hand. But he knew that it was supposed to come to you.”

“Tony? But, I - oh,” she breathed, bringing her hand to her forehead.

“What is it?” Dean asked, tightening his arm ever so slightly.

“Last night. After the - uh…after you walked out, I was dozing, I guess and I suddenly blacked out. I woke up maybe twenty minutes later feeling really tired. Jake must have been tapping into my powers. He’d seen the vision too, maybe in more detail, and needed to get these messages to us. So, I guess he borrowed me to get Tony to write this note and plant the motivation to come to us with it.”

“Jake did that?” Dean was grinning rather stupidly, obviously proud of his boy.

Christina smiled, too. “Yeah, Jake did that,” she nodded. “He can’t do it on his own, not yet. I worked on it, had people help me hone the abilities. His just haven’t developed yet. But, I managed to teach him how to borrow strength, just in case he was really in a jamb. Anyway, he’s right. I do know where to go.”

“Where?” Sam and Dean both cut her off.

She laughed. “Let me finish!” She waited a beat for them to jump in, because they were Winchesters after all. “Thank you. There’s an old coalmine that you used to be able to walk through, sort of like a memorial or museum or something. At the end, there was a gift shop. Behind the gift shop was the owner’s or maintainer’s or whatever’s house - all right inside the cavern. That must be what he was talking about last night. A cave that looked like a house. The museum was closed about eight years ago, after some sort of accident and no one’s lived there since. Must be where they’re staying, where they’ve got Jake.”

Dean was looking at her blankly. Sam looked a little amused. “You figured all that out from the words ‘a cave that’s kinda like a house?’”

She shrugged.

“Well, okay then. Let’s figure out a plan.”

Part Five

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As usual, feedback is always appreciated! Especially with this one, lol! :)