15. The Reunion (Part 1)

My head feels like it's about to split open. It will soon if this douchebag keeps cracking it against the brick walls.

The storm overhead doesn't level the playing field much. The ground is slick and muddy. The rain is coming down in sheets, visibility is almost impossible. The thunder shakes the ground-the storm's directly overhead-and the lightning threatens to take a victim. I want it to be my opponent that it takes, not me or the kids.

He's an ape, my opponent: stocky build, gross, hairy, smelly. His clothes are torn, and he's got a healing cut on his right cheek where I'd just sliced into him. I've got to keep him away from them. I'm their only chance.

I know his strategy: throw me around until I drop the shank. Once I'm disarmed, go in for the kill. Well, buddy, I'm not dying today. They aren't either. I look to the frightened children as the ape stalks towards me. I see the fear in their eyes. My vision distorts a little.

I duck just in time to avoid the ape's fist from connecting with my face. He howls in pain, and I kick him backwards. Wrong direction-I kick him in the direction of the kids I'm fighting for. The ape notices; his burly body is turned to the kids. The little boy and girl regard the man with huge eyes and tremble violently.

"You little punks aren't going anywhere," he growls.

I don't scream like a wildcat; I go in silently. I use the wall, shimmy up, and push off it, launching myself onto his back, my shank dangerously close to slicing into neck flesh. He roars, and lightning cracks overhead. I grunt, feeling the water put more weight on my clothes and screw up my vision. I let out a cry as a grubby, thick hand entangles itself into my knotty, blonde hair. I'm flipped over the man's shoulder, my one hand on his and the other with a firm grip on my shank.

I try and gain my footing, but the ape insists that I stay down. He knees me in the face repeatedly, trying to send me into an instant coma. The children don't scream; their fear took them when this fight first started.

"Look at you, little street rat," the ape spits. "Worth nothing. How've you survived this long?" I spit blood on the ground. "You know...I could always find a use for you..."

"I'd sooner be hit by a car," I growl through a bloody gurgle. I take a swing at him with my shank.

The ape chortles. "Ooh, feisty. I'll start with you then move onto the little ones."

The hard punch sends my face to the side. The man still keeps a grip in my hair. With a hard tug, I'm on my wobbling feet. The malice, the hunger in his eyes, it defeats him in the end. He's waiting.

I don't wait.

I forcefully shove my tiny blade into the man's gut. His eyes harden, and he throws me into the wall, near where the kids are cowering. I'm seeing stars now. The man doesn't seem to acknowledge the wound I've given him. His murderous eyes are on me, and as he goes to grab me by my clothes, I go into him, stabbing him a second time in the gut.

In that moment, I let go. I let my hand, my shank, do all the talking. I lose count of the stabs. The ape stumbles back, now with a fearful look in his eyes. I don't recognize the smile I feel on my lips as I go for the man's throat.

One quick slice ends it all.

I hear a frightened squeak from the kids as the red gushes out of the man's throat. With another loud clap of thunder and a burst of lightning, the man capsizes into the muddy ground, eyes staring blankly ahead.

I drop to my knees, drop my shank at my side. My head is pounding ferociously. I just killed a man. I killed someone. I actually did it. It wasn't my first choice, to kill him. But he threatened the kids. They would have had no chance against a man as big as him.

The kids. I half turn my head to see them, the brother and sister, holding each other, still shielding their mother's body. My lips part in sympathy for them. They can't be much older than six or seven years old. I swallow with difficulty. I can't leave them like this. But will they trust me? They just witnessed a murder, after all.

But I have to try.

I waddle to the kids. The boy pushes his sister behind him, she nearly falls over her mother's body. I regard them with soft blue eyes. If I had the time to, I'd used the water to wipe off my bloody face. I know what I must look like to them, someone no better than the man I just killed for them.

"I'm not gonna hurt you," I whisper, shivering through my clothes. "See?" I look back at my shank on the ground. "It's okay. You're safe now."

***

It's the rooster's call that pulls me out of my dream and back into reality. I'm glad for a reality check, because I don't want to revisit that dream that's really a memory. Though the call sounds far away, I know it'll come closer because the damn bird will want to roam and scream until it's got the entire farm up.

I hear Sam yawn loudly and move around, his cot squeaking. I peek my eyes open, seeing him ruffle his hair. I snort. Lucky him, his doesn't look all tangled and knotty. The rooster sounds again, and I pull the blanket over my face, groaning.

"We just had to be on a farm," I grumble.

"We can stick it out, Max," Sam tells me sleepily. "We need to be up, anyway. Wonder what time it is..."

"It's too damn early, that's what it is."

"I'm gonna go shower. Get Dean up, will you?"

I poke my head out from the blanket as I catch Sam walking away. "Why can't you do it?"

"You're closer."

I turn my head as far as I can to try and see Dean. The first thing I see, however, is a hand lay nonchalantly on my side. It's not holding me, it's just there. I look at the hand questioningly, and turn my body somewhat. In sleep, Dean doesn't look very peaceful. He must be dreaming to have those lines on his face. Well, maybe this will do him some good. But then I remember the last time I tried to wake him. But that was then. This is now. This may turn out different.

I start the wakeup call the safe way: "Dean. Dean, get up!" I purse my lips when I don't get anything of an answer. "I heard there's pie for breakfast."

Not even that gets an answer. Okay, change tactics. I go for a more physical approach and kick at his legs lightly. That earns me a shift on the cot, but no verbal response. I grit my teeth. I really don't want to have to slap him awake, but he's out cold. Playing a risky game, I rip the pillow out from under his head. Like a sack, he drops, still unmoving.

"Son of a bitch, man," I hiss. Getting really annoyed now, I hit him over the head with the pillow. "Get up, you lazy bum."

"Hit me again and see what happens," he threatens sleepily.

"Yay, somebody's finally conscious," I remark smartly. "Come on, we need to be up."

"Haven't you heard of sleep?"

I jump at hearing the rooster sound off again. "I'm not fond of this, either. Truth be told, I want to kill that damn bird, but we got to suck it up. Come on, up." Just to piss him off a little, I whack him again with the pillow.

I jump out of bed, pillow in my arms, before Dean can snatch either of us. I smile maliciously as he gives me the death stare. "If it were up to me, I would have thrown a bucket of ice water on you," I tell him. "This is a nicer way. Or I could have pushed you out."

"You're lucky I tolerate you, Maxipad."

For some reason, my smile barely falters. There he is. Now he's back to normal.

* * *

"Meet Noah Cassity," says Ellie later in the morning. "He's seventy-one, worth a billion, and just married wife number five, a twenty-year-old lingerie model."

"'Cause they have so much in common?" I say sarcastically. I don't know what makes me angrier: the fact that Noah Cassity is on wife number five, or the fact that wife number five is younger than I am by at least a decade. He doesn't look like much of a catch, but I guess if you're into the whole grandpa dressing like a cowboy thing, he's right up your alley.

Alice is the greeting party for the family as me, Sam, Ellie, and Dean all stand from a distance to watch. We didn't have a lot of time to start working, because the Cassitys were rolling in. The SUV seems more like a clown car to me, because I'm sure the Cassitys are packed inside.

"Alice is the oldest, and that's Cindy, the middle girl." Cindy, mini dress and short fur jacket, steps out from the car. My nose wrinkles. Immediately, I get a bad vibe from her. "She had a single on the country chart a few years ago. Then she started hitting the bottle, and, well...Her last album was a bunch of holiday songs for dogs. My favorites were 'Jingle Bark Rock' and 'Don't Pee on this Tree: Happy Arbor Day.'"

"So she's the devil," Dean surmises.

"Pretty much," says Ellie.

"I think devil is too nice a word," I mutter under my breath.

A younger woman emerges from the SUV, wearing a sweater and tan pants.

"And there's the baby-Margot. She ran away just before Alice and Carl tied the knot, lives in Paris."

"How do you know all this?" Sam asks.

"I've been working on this farm since I was thirteen, and I've got eyes." Logical, but maybe the sarcasm wasn't really needed there. "Okay, tonight is an all-hands-on-deck situation. I'm gonna need one of you inside, serving dinner and pouring drinks-a lot of drinks."

"Okay. Well, have fun," says Dean, as he pats his brother's arm. "I won't wait up."

"And somebody's gonna man the grill."

"What kind of grill?"

"So, two's enough, right? I'm free?" I ask Ellie, hopeful.

She laughs. "Nice try, Natasha. I guess I'll give you the option to pick."

As Ellie walks away, I'm already trying to decide what I want to do. Either way, I'm helping one of the Winchesters. But what's better? I could go with Sam and help him out. If he's going to be around the Cassitys, he'll maybe get some information to help us with the Hellhounds. On the other hand, I could help Dean.

"How come you get to choose?" Dean asks.

I shrug. "She must favor me more than you two. Besides, you kind of picked for yourself and volunteered Sam for waiter duty."

"Then I guess I'll volunteer you to help him out."

I roll my eyes. "I fell right into that trap, didn't I?" I look to Sam. "Well, it won't be so bad, right?"

**I don't know about you all, but I'm not sure which name for Max I like more: Max or her alias of Natasha.

Which name do you prefer (it's not gonna affect the story, just genuine curiosity on my part)?