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phantismaTitle: The Seduction of Scott, Part 12
Characters: Dana, Sam/Dean, Scott Wu (OMC), Erin (friend)
Rating: R (established wincest relationship - the R is for language & Erin)
Word Count: 3700
Disclaimer: Not mine - just playing.
Summary: Keeper!verse. Written by M.
The continuation of the romance of Dana Winchester & Scott Wu - slowly heading to the prom.
This chapter follows a few hours after Dana's great victory over the horrid Janie in part 11. Dana finds that things are never easy when you are 17. Pretty much everything goes downhill fast.
Friday Evening after Seduction Part 11
Sam propped his left leg up on the chair across from him, rested his head against the wall, pressed his lips against his beer bottle and chugged down half the contents. Dos Equis. Nice and cold. He scooped up some of the nachos, making sure he got plenty of cheese and jalapenos.
Friday night - J Bar. Dean and Dad were engaged in a vicious pool game. The loser got to overhaul Mr. Van Wyck's crappy old engine and the winner got to gloat, a lot. Best of seven. Dean had just broken to start the fifth game. They were split at two each.
Sam felt a satisfying warmth in his chest. There is no way twenty years ago he could have predicted he would be living a suburban life with his partner/brother, their daughter and his dad. Or that they would love him. And he would be plain old happy. No, Sam never would have predicted this outcome. Back then, he was sure he'd never see thirty much less a content forty with a life where people actually took care of him.
Sam chewed his giant mouthful of greasy chips while he listening to Dean trash talk. If Dean was hustling, there would be no trash talk. Just a calm, almost disconnected approach like a cat after its prey. But, when he got to play for pure pleasure, he talked trash like a spoiled NBA star. And the best part, John acted so zen about pool that Sam doubted he ever heard a word of it.
Sam unbuttoned his top shirt and slipped it off. The bar was hot, too much body heat. Sam knew he might as well get comfortable and enjoy the Battle of Winchester Pool; he was going to be there a while. And when the seven games were over, it was likely there would be a battle royale at the dart board before the evening was through.
Then he heard her above the din, softly at first, Sammy
He sat up, put both feet on the floor, focused. She came in loud and clear, I need you Sammy.
Sweetie, where are you?
Sam diverted his gaze away from Dean's ass as he bent over and lined up his shot, up to the beer bottle cap littered ceiling and pictured Dana in his mind. Then he received a crystal clear picture of Clinton Lake and a sharp image of the track team in drunken disarray.
The team had gone out there for a barbeque to celebrate their great victory that afternoon. From the look of things, the celebration had gone awry a few hours ago.
Can you get here without Dad knowing?
Dana knew the rules. Absolutely no driving if drinking or if her friends were drinking. Sam and Dean were smarter than to simply forbid drinking. Forbidding Dana anything was like putting a neon sign out to attract her. Even Dana knew the 'call for a ride/no questions asked' rule was more than fair and had agreed to it at the start of high school. Until now, she had never needed to call.
Don't worry sweetie, he won't be upset.
He felt a rush of an explanation, words tumbling out fast and furious and a bit panicky. I've only had two beers but Scott is plastered. He won't give me the car keys.
Sam rubbed his face, considering. I'll be there in fifteen minutes, twenty tops. He paused, made sure he sound calm then added, Why are you upset?
Inexplicably, he felt her dodge and block her reaction to that. All he got in response was Just hurry ok? and then nothingness.
Sam lowered his head and met Dean's eyes boring a hole into his skull from beside the pool table. No hiding from that look. Sam stood.
Behind Dean, John called, "Eight ball, far left pocket," followed by a solidly cracked ball and the distinct clunk of a shot well landed. Without looking up, John said, "You know son, you blew your concentration on that last shot of yours. I taught you better." John glanced up and saw his two sons staring at each other but not saying a word. He put his hands on the edge of the table, his eyes darting between the two. "What the hell is wrong?" he asked, an edge in his voice.
Dean turned, raising his arms in defeat. "Well Dad. I'm tired so we'll call it best of five. I'll overhaul that goddamn engine of Old Man Van Wyck's and I'll buy you a six pack to drink while you watch me do it. Let's get out of here." Dean took a step and reached for his coat.
John's laugh was like a bark. "Yeah, sure. You give in after you blow a shot you haven't missed since you were ten. I asked what the hell is wrong?" John pushed himself up off the pool table completely to standing and solidly pounded the end of his pool cue on the floor.
Dean and John locked eyes.
Sam smiled and stepped in between them to diffuse the situation. "Dean, if you think caving all amiably would divert Dad's suspicion, you're losing your touch."
Sam motioned to them to step closer, playing it calm to keep them in check. "Dad, it's Dana. She needs a ride. The celebration is a little out of hand up at Clinton Lake. She's fine, I think. Scott's plastered though…"
John's brow knitted in instant anger. "I'll clean that kid's clock. Let's go." He reached for his jacket off the chair and headed to the bar to clear the tab.
Sam grabbed Dean's shoulder and leaned down to whisper. "She didn't even want me to bring you. She'll freak if Dad is there."
Sam and Dean both looked at their father's back. Dean whispered in turn, "I'm not talking him out of going. Are you?" Dean turned toward Sam, one eyebrow raised.
Dana had ducked behind a tumble of rocks in order to contact Sam. No signal on the cell phone at the lake and reaching out across a distance required a modicum of concentration. Safer to escape any possible notice.
She pulled her jacket closer around her and leaned against a tree. Her race victory that afternoon had been pure sweetness. She smiled at the thought of Janie's furious, losing face. She would even fell sorry for her, the girl had never lost a race before, if Janie wasn't such a lying little bitch.
Now, everything had turned to crap. About two hours ago, burgers and a couple of beers transformed into tequila body shots. She wasn't sure who had produced the tequila but now seemingly everyone but her was stumbling around and acting like idiots.
She didn't know who to worry about more. Erin was who knows where with who knows who. The last time Dana saw her, Erin had her tongue down that stuck-up rich boy Troy's throat. Erin hated Troy, well, Dana had thought Erin hated Troy. Dana really hoped Erin had a condom with her and sense enough to make Troy or whomever use it.
And Scott. She saw Scott across the clearing, dancing and flailing with a group of people near the bonfire. She had learned quickly that Scott became very touchy feely with some liquor in him. She'd been interested for a few weeks in getting more up close and personal with him but drunken fumbling in the bushes really wasn't what she had envisioned, at all. Still, she smiled. He was really cute, even drunk and ridiculous; his dark hair was bouncing around as he kicked up dust.
Dana shivered and trudged back towards him. She sighed as the fire's warmth reached her. She drew close and warmed her hands.
Scott bounced up to her and spun her around, grabbed her waist and kissed her fiercely.
"Hey cuteness. Where'd ya go?" He grinned at her, eyes bright, pulled her closer. She leaned into him. He was sweaty and smelly but warm. He started to kiss her neck, a soft row of kisses from her ear, along her jaw to her chin, his hands encircling her waist. It was so tempting to just give in and nuzzle back. She turned her mouth to his. His lips descended on hers and the bitter taste of tequila on his tongue made her squirm and pull back. She wanted this, no doubt about it, felt this need in her gut, but she wanted him to remember it and she doubted he would if it happened tonight.
She covered her hands over his and roughly lifted them off her waist. "I called Sam to come and get us," she informed him.
"Whaaaa?" He looked at her, nose wrinkled. She could see the exact moment the veritable light bulb turned on in his tequila-addled brain. "Imma fine to drive."
"Yeah, you're in great shape," she bit off the words and shoved him away from her. "Why do drunks think they're fine? Has anyone ever figured that out?"
She marched over to the picnic bench to wait. Only about ten minutes now and Sam would arrive.
Kevin, the assistant track coach, joined her, handed her a water bottle. She sucked down a long drink. "Well, at least you're sober," she said to him.
Kevin surveyed the scene. "Things got out of hand pretty quickly." He plopped down next to her. "I take it that you don't like tequila," he said as he straightened his longs legs out in front of himself.
Dana turned her face away from him and examined her fingernails. "Um, yeah, somethin' like that." It dawned on her that she had never dreamed up a good story to have in reserve to explain why she wouldn't drink to excess. Telling someone, "Well, I'm afraid I would lose control of my powers and shit may fly all over" might be the truth but really wasn't an option. Although right now, launching a few items at a few people's heads didn't seem like that terrible of a plan.
She looked over the group hoping to spot Erin. Damn girl, where are you?
She turned to Kevin, "Did you say something?"
Kevin licked his lips, "Um, yeah. I said you looked really great running your race today."
Dana shrugged, "Thanks."
Dana glanced at her watch. Eight more minutes. She decided she better go hunt her down. Scott and Erin may be crappy drunks but they were her friends and they were leaving with her.
Dana pushed herself up off the bench. Kevin grabbed her arm, "Whoa - where are you going?"
Dana jerked her head to motion off to the right. "Going to look for Erin."
Kevin's hand tightened on her forearm. "No. Stay. I'm sure Erin is fine."
Something about his tone or his grip set her on edge. Dana turned and stared at him full-on in the eyes. "I want to go and find her." Dana jerked gently to escape his clutch.
Then she felt her mouth go dry. She reached for the water bottle on the table for another swallow and her fingers went numb.
Kevin stood up in one quick motion and grabbed both her arms to keep her in place. She viciously jumped back out of Kevin's grip. She stared at him, dumbstruck.
"What the fuck is in the water Kevin? What did you do?" Blurry. Vision was getting a little blurry. Head starting to spin.
"I just want to get to know you better Dana. You are really cute, ya know, great legs." Kevin stepped into her space and put his hands low on her hips, dipping into her sweat pants. "You'll enjoy this, trust me."
Reality dawned at the same time her ability to process how to respond headed in the other direction. He leaned in like he was going to kiss her. Panic swelled up, and she looked over her shoulder for Scott, but he was gone in the dancing clump of people again.
She shook Kevin off, and he went flying five feet backward and smacked into a tree trunk. He groaned and stared at her. "How the hell?"
Shit. Run. Run. Get Away.
She turned and high-tailed it toward the tree line. She felt wobbly, clumsy, dizzy. She tripped on a tree stump and went down hard, falling on her right arm, violently, then rolling onto her back. Out of the corner of her eye she saw a garbage can lid go flying and the can following after. The rocks started to levitate. Shit.
Head pounding, legs like jelly, she vaguely recognized Scott yelling her name somewhere off in the distance. Panicking she reached out for Sam as she pushed herself up off the ground and stumbled desperately for the trees, transmitting HURRY as forcefully and clearly as she could manage.
Must get away from her friends…can't hurt them….Run. Run. Run.
Sam's SUV swerved wildly. Dean dove for the wheel and Sam grabbed for his head. The SUV spun 360 degrees before jerking to a full stop.
"Sammy, what's wrong?"
Sam received only a blur of Dana running wildly after the screamed Hurry.
Sam lowered his hands back on the wheel and stomped on the accelerator.
"What?" Dean insisted.
"Dunno. But not good," was his sole reply.
Sam kept his eyes on the road, felt Dean watching his every breath like a new mother staring at an infant in its crib. He tried hard not to worry about her, knew she was smart and capable. But she was seventeen. And seventeen was bad. No, seventeen was a nightmare. Sam gripped the steering wheel. Seventeen had been a year of pain and terror for him. It was different for her, he knew that. But right now he couldn't feel that.
He had read in some goddamn book that, when kids reach an age that was difficult for you, you relive it. An incident like this, with her in possible danger and scared, pushed against all his hard fought contentment.
"Earth to Sam," Dean interjected.
"Almost there." Sam rounded the bend and skidded the SUV into the parking lot, threw the vehicle into park and shoved down his rotten memories with an almighty shove.
All three Winchester men jumped out, surveying the scene - a bunch of drunk teenagers dancing, humping, throwing up.
Dana wasn't among them.
Sam shut his eyes. Where are you? In reply, he received only a blur of images, nausea, fear.
Sam asked Dean, "Where would you run to if something scared you?"
"Trees - 200 yards west." Sam looked to where Dean was pointing.
"Yeah, yeah, go get her. I know she was fine when she asked me to come and in the last ten minutes something went to hell for her."
John and Dean headed to the back-end to retrieve weapons. Sam shook his head. "I don't think supernatural bad. Not sure but….no weapons." Sam touched Dean's shoulders and turned him to the trees. "Go get her, now."
Dean tossed Sam an odd look but jogged off toward the trees without a word.
Sam addressed John, "Dad, look for Erin. I'll get Scott."
"No, I'll fetch Scott. You look for Erin."
Sam wasn't going to argue with that look. He didn't want to be Scott Wu just then.
They split up.
Dean found her in the trees, curled up in a ball, shivering.
As he approached the trees, the flying dirt was his first clue. He dodged the larger flying debris and sank to his knees next to her, drew her into his arms. "Can you tell me what happened?" He kissed her forehead, held her tight to him.
Her eyes told him that she recognized him. Of that he was sure. But she couldn't form words. When she tried, a boulder flew past their heads.
Dean held her head and spoke softly. "Ok honey. I only see one choice here. I'm sorry sweetie."
He landed a solid blow to her jaw and knocked her out. Then he picked her up, balancing her weight in his arms and carefully supporting her head and headed to the car.
Scott was flailing by the bonfire in an approximation of dancing when he felt a hand on the back of his neck. Before he could react, he was pinned to the ground, hands behind his back, face down in the dirt. He tried to get a word out but he heard a voice hiss in his ear, "Don't you say a damn thing boy. I'm looking for an excuse to punch you and a smart ass remark might just be it."
He might be drunk but Scott Wu wasn't dumb. Even spunky Dana never crossed her grandfather when he was in a good mood much less pissed off. Scott shut his mouth and allowed himself to be marched away and shoved into the car.
"Oh, Evelyn baby, you feel so good." Some blond, curly headed kid in a polo shirt but no pants had his tongue down Erin's throat and two fingers buried deep inside her. Erin was topless with her pants around her knees and flat on her back in the dirt.
Sam froze, momentarily struck by how ill-prepared he was to deal with this.
He cleared his throat and muttered, "Awkward."
Both of them jumped about three feet then pawed for their clothes. Sam looked at Erin and barked, "Get dressed. We're leaving."
He glanced at the boy who thankfully had located his pants. "Her name is Erin," Sam hissed.
Sam pulled Erin up and supported her weight with his shoulder. And he had thought Dana was a handful.
John had Scott's car keys in his hand, tossing them up and down by the time Sam and Dean and their charges showed up. Sam put Erin into the back next to Scott and reached to check Dana for injuries.
"Sam, you take Scott's car and Dana and head to our house," Dean instructed. "You need to shield her off. Something isn't right. I don't exactly think it is her fault though."
Sam nodded. He could tell. It wasn't her fault; there was a wrongness to her mental connections. He guessed some type of drug but not one he had ever experienced.
Dean continued, "We'll drop these two off and meet you at the house." He looked at Dana and bent over and kissed her forehead. "I think you better force her to throw up. I don't know what it is, but she had half the world floating when I found her."
Saturday afternoon
Dana was stretched out on the couch sipping a ginger ale sort of half watching the movie on the tv, her eyes darting to the phone every few seconds.
"Staring at the phone won't make it ring," Sam intoned.
She didn't remember much after sitting down at the picnic bench other than a vague idea of Kevin's hands and violently throwing up for what seemed like hours. Next true coherent thought was late morning when she woke with a pounding headache, dry mouth and a roiling stomach with her dad in the recliner next to her bed.
She glanced at Sam and her dad across the room, sprawled out over the other couch, Sam's hand gently resting on her dad's knee. They weren't mad at her in any way. Mad maybe, but, not at her. That would-be rapist Kevin was in some deep shit though. She wondered if they would skin him or flog him or both. She smirked inwardly. Unless Papa got to him first. Then Kevin could only hope for skinning and flogging.
She wondered something then. "How did the rest of the kids get home?"
"Cops," Dean replied before sticking his hand in the popcorn bowl in Sam's lap. "Called the cops in to bust it up after we got you and Scott and Erin out."
Dana nodded and realized she was staring at the phone again, mentally willing it to ring.
Erin had called around noon. Apologized profusely. Asked what had happened. Swore to never drink again. Unlike Dana, her parents were furious and she was grounded until she was thirty-five.
"I should be mad at him, huh?" Dana kicked at the pillow on the edge of the sofa.
"You'd have to tell us what happened exactly for us to judge that," Sam replied, pulling the popcorn out of Dean's reach.
"Well, he wouldn't give me his car keys for starters," Dana stated, kicked the pillow again.
"Dana," Sam said in his best fatherly voice, "that really doesn't matter. Rule is - if a friend is drinking, even if you aren't, you can't drive. You would have still had to call if he had turned over the keys." He paused and then added sharply, "Although he is smart enough to know he was in no shape to drive."
She nodded to acknowledge the truth in that. "How do I explain how I called you when everyone knows there is no cell service out there?" Dana sipped her soda and thought that maybe some Skittles might taste good.
Dean spoke up, "Tell 'em you got lucky and had a signal. Can't prove you wrong."
Dana fussed with her hair and stated softly, "Stuff was flying though, right? I distinctly remember stuff flying. Who saw?"
Sam and Dean exchanged a look. It was Sam who got up, walked over to her and sat down on the edge of her couch. He stroked her cheek. "Plausible deniability sweetie. If anyone mentions it, act like their nuts. Because crap flying for no reason is nuts. No one there, other than that ass of an assistant coach, was sober enough to think differently…and I'm willing to bet he won't have anything to say about it."
Dean added, "Yeah, what Sam said. You did everything right out there. That freak slipping you a mickey isn't your fault."
In a small voice she asked, "Why hasn't he called? Erin called."
Dean stood up, heading toward the kitchen for a beer. "Well, your Papa might have scared him just a little."
Characters: Dana, Sam/Dean, Scott Wu (OMC), Erin (friend)
Rating: R (established wincest relationship - the R is for language & Erin)
Word Count: 3700
Disclaimer: Not mine - just playing.
Summary: Keeper!verse. Written by M.
The continuation of the romance of Dana Winchester & Scott Wu - slowly heading to the prom.
This chapter follows a few hours after Dana's great victory over the horrid Janie in part 11. Dana finds that things are never easy when you are 17. Pretty much everything goes downhill fast.
Friday Evening after Seduction Part 11
Sam propped his left leg up on the chair across from him, rested his head against the wall, pressed his lips against his beer bottle and chugged down half the contents. Dos Equis. Nice and cold. He scooped up some of the nachos, making sure he got plenty of cheese and jalapenos.
Friday night - J Bar. Dean and Dad were engaged in a vicious pool game. The loser got to overhaul Mr. Van Wyck's crappy old engine and the winner got to gloat, a lot. Best of seven. Dean had just broken to start the fifth game. They were split at two each.
Sam felt a satisfying warmth in his chest. There is no way twenty years ago he could have predicted he would be living a suburban life with his partner/brother, their daughter and his dad. Or that they would love him. And he would be plain old happy. No, Sam never would have predicted this outcome. Back then, he was sure he'd never see thirty much less a content forty with a life where people actually took care of him.
Sam chewed his giant mouthful of greasy chips while he listening to Dean trash talk. If Dean was hustling, there would be no trash talk. Just a calm, almost disconnected approach like a cat after its prey. But, when he got to play for pure pleasure, he talked trash like a spoiled NBA star. And the best part, John acted so zen about pool that Sam doubted he ever heard a word of it.
Sam unbuttoned his top shirt and slipped it off. The bar was hot, too much body heat. Sam knew he might as well get comfortable and enjoy the Battle of Winchester Pool; he was going to be there a while. And when the seven games were over, it was likely there would be a battle royale at the dart board before the evening was through.
Then he heard her above the din, softly at first, Sammy
He sat up, put both feet on the floor, focused. She came in loud and clear, I need you Sammy.
Sweetie, where are you?
Sam diverted his gaze away from Dean's ass as he bent over and lined up his shot, up to the beer bottle cap littered ceiling and pictured Dana in his mind. Then he received a crystal clear picture of Clinton Lake and a sharp image of the track team in drunken disarray.
The team had gone out there for a barbeque to celebrate their great victory that afternoon. From the look of things, the celebration had gone awry a few hours ago.
Can you get here without Dad knowing?
Dana knew the rules. Absolutely no driving if drinking or if her friends were drinking. Sam and Dean were smarter than to simply forbid drinking. Forbidding Dana anything was like putting a neon sign out to attract her. Even Dana knew the 'call for a ride/no questions asked' rule was more than fair and had agreed to it at the start of high school. Until now, she had never needed to call.
Don't worry sweetie, he won't be upset.
He felt a rush of an explanation, words tumbling out fast and furious and a bit panicky. I've only had two beers but Scott is plastered. He won't give me the car keys.
Sam rubbed his face, considering. I'll be there in fifteen minutes, twenty tops. He paused, made sure he sound calm then added, Why are you upset?
Inexplicably, he felt her dodge and block her reaction to that. All he got in response was Just hurry ok? and then nothingness.
Sam lowered his head and met Dean's eyes boring a hole into his skull from beside the pool table. No hiding from that look. Sam stood.
Behind Dean, John called, "Eight ball, far left pocket," followed by a solidly cracked ball and the distinct clunk of a shot well landed. Without looking up, John said, "You know son, you blew your concentration on that last shot of yours. I taught you better." John glanced up and saw his two sons staring at each other but not saying a word. He put his hands on the edge of the table, his eyes darting between the two. "What the hell is wrong?" he asked, an edge in his voice.
Dean turned, raising his arms in defeat. "Well Dad. I'm tired so we'll call it best of five. I'll overhaul that goddamn engine of Old Man Van Wyck's and I'll buy you a six pack to drink while you watch me do it. Let's get out of here." Dean took a step and reached for his coat.
John's laugh was like a bark. "Yeah, sure. You give in after you blow a shot you haven't missed since you were ten. I asked what the hell is wrong?" John pushed himself up off the pool table completely to standing and solidly pounded the end of his pool cue on the floor.
Dean and John locked eyes.
Sam smiled and stepped in between them to diffuse the situation. "Dean, if you think caving all amiably would divert Dad's suspicion, you're losing your touch."
Sam motioned to them to step closer, playing it calm to keep them in check. "Dad, it's Dana. She needs a ride. The celebration is a little out of hand up at Clinton Lake. She's fine, I think. Scott's plastered though…"
John's brow knitted in instant anger. "I'll clean that kid's clock. Let's go." He reached for his jacket off the chair and headed to the bar to clear the tab.
Sam grabbed Dean's shoulder and leaned down to whisper. "She didn't even want me to bring you. She'll freak if Dad is there."
Sam and Dean both looked at their father's back. Dean whispered in turn, "I'm not talking him out of going. Are you?" Dean turned toward Sam, one eyebrow raised.
Dana had ducked behind a tumble of rocks in order to contact Sam. No signal on the cell phone at the lake and reaching out across a distance required a modicum of concentration. Safer to escape any possible notice.
She pulled her jacket closer around her and leaned against a tree. Her race victory that afternoon had been pure sweetness. She smiled at the thought of Janie's furious, losing face. She would even fell sorry for her, the girl had never lost a race before, if Janie wasn't such a lying little bitch.
Now, everything had turned to crap. About two hours ago, burgers and a couple of beers transformed into tequila body shots. She wasn't sure who had produced the tequila but now seemingly everyone but her was stumbling around and acting like idiots.
She didn't know who to worry about more. Erin was who knows where with who knows who. The last time Dana saw her, Erin had her tongue down that stuck-up rich boy Troy's throat. Erin hated Troy, well, Dana had thought Erin hated Troy. Dana really hoped Erin had a condom with her and sense enough to make Troy or whomever use it.
And Scott. She saw Scott across the clearing, dancing and flailing with a group of people near the bonfire. She had learned quickly that Scott became very touchy feely with some liquor in him. She'd been interested for a few weeks in getting more up close and personal with him but drunken fumbling in the bushes really wasn't what she had envisioned, at all. Still, she smiled. He was really cute, even drunk and ridiculous; his dark hair was bouncing around as he kicked up dust.
Dana shivered and trudged back towards him. She sighed as the fire's warmth reached her. She drew close and warmed her hands.
Scott bounced up to her and spun her around, grabbed her waist and kissed her fiercely.
"Hey cuteness. Where'd ya go?" He grinned at her, eyes bright, pulled her closer. She leaned into him. He was sweaty and smelly but warm. He started to kiss her neck, a soft row of kisses from her ear, along her jaw to her chin, his hands encircling her waist. It was so tempting to just give in and nuzzle back. She turned her mouth to his. His lips descended on hers and the bitter taste of tequila on his tongue made her squirm and pull back. She wanted this, no doubt about it, felt this need in her gut, but she wanted him to remember it and she doubted he would if it happened tonight.
She covered her hands over his and roughly lifted them off her waist. "I called Sam to come and get us," she informed him.
"Whaaaa?" He looked at her, nose wrinkled. She could see the exact moment the veritable light bulb turned on in his tequila-addled brain. "Imma fine to drive."
"Yeah, you're in great shape," she bit off the words and shoved him away from her. "Why do drunks think they're fine? Has anyone ever figured that out?"
She marched over to the picnic bench to wait. Only about ten minutes now and Sam would arrive.
Kevin, the assistant track coach, joined her, handed her a water bottle. She sucked down a long drink. "Well, at least you're sober," she said to him.
Kevin surveyed the scene. "Things got out of hand pretty quickly." He plopped down next to her. "I take it that you don't like tequila," he said as he straightened his longs legs out in front of himself.
Dana turned her face away from him and examined her fingernails. "Um, yeah, somethin' like that." It dawned on her that she had never dreamed up a good story to have in reserve to explain why she wouldn't drink to excess. Telling someone, "Well, I'm afraid I would lose control of my powers and shit may fly all over" might be the truth but really wasn't an option. Although right now, launching a few items at a few people's heads didn't seem like that terrible of a plan.
She looked over the group hoping to spot Erin. Damn girl, where are you?
She turned to Kevin, "Did you say something?"
Kevin licked his lips, "Um, yeah. I said you looked really great running your race today."
Dana shrugged, "Thanks."
Dana glanced at her watch. Eight more minutes. She decided she better go hunt her down. Scott and Erin may be crappy drunks but they were her friends and they were leaving with her.
Dana pushed herself up off the bench. Kevin grabbed her arm, "Whoa - where are you going?"
Dana jerked her head to motion off to the right. "Going to look for Erin."
Kevin's hand tightened on her forearm. "No. Stay. I'm sure Erin is fine."
Something about his tone or his grip set her on edge. Dana turned and stared at him full-on in the eyes. "I want to go and find her." Dana jerked gently to escape his clutch.
Then she felt her mouth go dry. She reached for the water bottle on the table for another swallow and her fingers went numb.
Kevin stood up in one quick motion and grabbed both her arms to keep her in place. She viciously jumped back out of Kevin's grip. She stared at him, dumbstruck.
"What the fuck is in the water Kevin? What did you do?" Blurry. Vision was getting a little blurry. Head starting to spin.
"I just want to get to know you better Dana. You are really cute, ya know, great legs." Kevin stepped into her space and put his hands low on her hips, dipping into her sweat pants. "You'll enjoy this, trust me."
Reality dawned at the same time her ability to process how to respond headed in the other direction. He leaned in like he was going to kiss her. Panic swelled up, and she looked over her shoulder for Scott, but he was gone in the dancing clump of people again.
She shook Kevin off, and he went flying five feet backward and smacked into a tree trunk. He groaned and stared at her. "How the hell?"
Shit. Run. Run. Get Away.
She turned and high-tailed it toward the tree line. She felt wobbly, clumsy, dizzy. She tripped on a tree stump and went down hard, falling on her right arm, violently, then rolling onto her back. Out of the corner of her eye she saw a garbage can lid go flying and the can following after. The rocks started to levitate. Shit.
Head pounding, legs like jelly, she vaguely recognized Scott yelling her name somewhere off in the distance. Panicking she reached out for Sam as she pushed herself up off the ground and stumbled desperately for the trees, transmitting HURRY as forcefully and clearly as she could manage.
Must get away from her friends…can't hurt them….Run. Run. Run.
Sam's SUV swerved wildly. Dean dove for the wheel and Sam grabbed for his head. The SUV spun 360 degrees before jerking to a full stop.
"Sammy, what's wrong?"
Sam received only a blur of Dana running wildly after the screamed Hurry.
Sam lowered his hands back on the wheel and stomped on the accelerator.
"What?" Dean insisted.
"Dunno. But not good," was his sole reply.
Sam kept his eyes on the road, felt Dean watching his every breath like a new mother staring at an infant in its crib. He tried hard not to worry about her, knew she was smart and capable. But she was seventeen. And seventeen was bad. No, seventeen was a nightmare. Sam gripped the steering wheel. Seventeen had been a year of pain and terror for him. It was different for her, he knew that. But right now he couldn't feel that.
He had read in some goddamn book that, when kids reach an age that was difficult for you, you relive it. An incident like this, with her in possible danger and scared, pushed against all his hard fought contentment.
"Earth to Sam," Dean interjected.
"Almost there." Sam rounded the bend and skidded the SUV into the parking lot, threw the vehicle into park and shoved down his rotten memories with an almighty shove.
All three Winchester men jumped out, surveying the scene - a bunch of drunk teenagers dancing, humping, throwing up.
Dana wasn't among them.
Sam shut his eyes. Where are you? In reply, he received only a blur of images, nausea, fear.
Sam asked Dean, "Where would you run to if something scared you?"
"Trees - 200 yards west." Sam looked to where Dean was pointing.
"Yeah, yeah, go get her. I know she was fine when she asked me to come and in the last ten minutes something went to hell for her."
John and Dean headed to the back-end to retrieve weapons. Sam shook his head. "I don't think supernatural bad. Not sure but….no weapons." Sam touched Dean's shoulders and turned him to the trees. "Go get her, now."
Dean tossed Sam an odd look but jogged off toward the trees without a word.
Sam addressed John, "Dad, look for Erin. I'll get Scott."
"No, I'll fetch Scott. You look for Erin."
Sam wasn't going to argue with that look. He didn't want to be Scott Wu just then.
They split up.
Dean found her in the trees, curled up in a ball, shivering.
As he approached the trees, the flying dirt was his first clue. He dodged the larger flying debris and sank to his knees next to her, drew her into his arms. "Can you tell me what happened?" He kissed her forehead, held her tight to him.
Her eyes told him that she recognized him. Of that he was sure. But she couldn't form words. When she tried, a boulder flew past their heads.
Dean held her head and spoke softly. "Ok honey. I only see one choice here. I'm sorry sweetie."
He landed a solid blow to her jaw and knocked her out. Then he picked her up, balancing her weight in his arms and carefully supporting her head and headed to the car.
Scott was flailing by the bonfire in an approximation of dancing when he felt a hand on the back of his neck. Before he could react, he was pinned to the ground, hands behind his back, face down in the dirt. He tried to get a word out but he heard a voice hiss in his ear, "Don't you say a damn thing boy. I'm looking for an excuse to punch you and a smart ass remark might just be it."
He might be drunk but Scott Wu wasn't dumb. Even spunky Dana never crossed her grandfather when he was in a good mood much less pissed off. Scott shut his mouth and allowed himself to be marched away and shoved into the car.
"Oh, Evelyn baby, you feel so good." Some blond, curly headed kid in a polo shirt but no pants had his tongue down Erin's throat and two fingers buried deep inside her. Erin was topless with her pants around her knees and flat on her back in the dirt.
Sam froze, momentarily struck by how ill-prepared he was to deal with this.
He cleared his throat and muttered, "Awkward."
Both of them jumped about three feet then pawed for their clothes. Sam looked at Erin and barked, "Get dressed. We're leaving."
He glanced at the boy who thankfully had located his pants. "Her name is Erin," Sam hissed.
Sam pulled Erin up and supported her weight with his shoulder. And he had thought Dana was a handful.
John had Scott's car keys in his hand, tossing them up and down by the time Sam and Dean and their charges showed up. Sam put Erin into the back next to Scott and reached to check Dana for injuries.
"Sam, you take Scott's car and Dana and head to our house," Dean instructed. "You need to shield her off. Something isn't right. I don't exactly think it is her fault though."
Sam nodded. He could tell. It wasn't her fault; there was a wrongness to her mental connections. He guessed some type of drug but not one he had ever experienced.
Dean continued, "We'll drop these two off and meet you at the house." He looked at Dana and bent over and kissed her forehead. "I think you better force her to throw up. I don't know what it is, but she had half the world floating when I found her."
Saturday afternoon
Dana was stretched out on the couch sipping a ginger ale sort of half watching the movie on the tv, her eyes darting to the phone every few seconds.
"Staring at the phone won't make it ring," Sam intoned.
She didn't remember much after sitting down at the picnic bench other than a vague idea of Kevin's hands and violently throwing up for what seemed like hours. Next true coherent thought was late morning when she woke with a pounding headache, dry mouth and a roiling stomach with her dad in the recliner next to her bed.
She glanced at Sam and her dad across the room, sprawled out over the other couch, Sam's hand gently resting on her dad's knee. They weren't mad at her in any way. Mad maybe, but, not at her. That would-be rapist Kevin was in some deep shit though. She wondered if they would skin him or flog him or both. She smirked inwardly. Unless Papa got to him first. Then Kevin could only hope for skinning and flogging.
She wondered something then. "How did the rest of the kids get home?"
"Cops," Dean replied before sticking his hand in the popcorn bowl in Sam's lap. "Called the cops in to bust it up after we got you and Scott and Erin out."
Dana nodded and realized she was staring at the phone again, mentally willing it to ring.
Erin had called around noon. Apologized profusely. Asked what had happened. Swore to never drink again. Unlike Dana, her parents were furious and she was grounded until she was thirty-five.
"I should be mad at him, huh?" Dana kicked at the pillow on the edge of the sofa.
"You'd have to tell us what happened exactly for us to judge that," Sam replied, pulling the popcorn out of Dean's reach.
"Well, he wouldn't give me his car keys for starters," Dana stated, kicked the pillow again.
"Dana," Sam said in his best fatherly voice, "that really doesn't matter. Rule is - if a friend is drinking, even if you aren't, you can't drive. You would have still had to call if he had turned over the keys." He paused and then added sharply, "Although he is smart enough to know he was in no shape to drive."
She nodded to acknowledge the truth in that. "How do I explain how I called you when everyone knows there is no cell service out there?" Dana sipped her soda and thought that maybe some Skittles might taste good.
Dean spoke up, "Tell 'em you got lucky and had a signal. Can't prove you wrong."
Dana fussed with her hair and stated softly, "Stuff was flying though, right? I distinctly remember stuff flying. Who saw?"
Sam and Dean exchanged a look. It was Sam who got up, walked over to her and sat down on the edge of her couch. He stroked her cheek. "Plausible deniability sweetie. If anyone mentions it, act like their nuts. Because crap flying for no reason is nuts. No one there, other than that ass of an assistant coach, was sober enough to think differently…and I'm willing to bet he won't have anything to say about it."
Dean added, "Yeah, what Sam said. You did everything right out there. That freak slipping you a mickey isn't your fault."
In a small voice she asked, "Why hasn't he called? Erin called."
Dean stood up, heading toward the kitchen for a beer. "Well, your Papa might have scared him just a little."
