The Secret of Henley Winchester || Dean's Daughter (Supernatural)

Chapter 15: State of Mind

"I um. . .Well, I—"

"She lied," Mary blurted out, obviously finding humor in this situation from the way the corners of her mouth turned up just so.

"What?" Sam exclaimed. Henley looked up at Lady Bevell shaking her head. And to think, she gave that piece of trash a water bottle.

"Mary's programming. . .it's permanent."

"But you said. . ."

Lady Bevell cut Dean off, a sigh escaping past her parted lips. "You were going to kill me. The Mary that you know. The good Mary, she's hiding behind impenetrable psychic walls, and I'm afraid these walls. . ." Lady Bevell scoffed, focusing her attention on the ceiling. "Well, they can't be torn down with grenades. Your mother can't be saved." Henley couldn't believe what she was hearing. Everyone was capable of change. The only thing was, they had to want to change deep down too. Henley refused to believe that Mary didn't want to get back to her sons. They had to save her, there had to be an alternate solution.

After a while Dean's leg had healed enough for him to stand again, and he had procured his gun, turning to face Lady Bevell.

"All right Lady, times up. We only kept you alive for one reason." As much as Henley hated the woman, she couldn't believe Dean was just going to shoot her. Wasn't their enough death in the world already? Henley crossed her arms over her chest staring at the two of them, waiting to watch the scene unfold, knowing she had no say in any of it. Sometimes being a kid really sucked. No one ever valued your opinion. As Dean raised his arms, a blaring ring cut through the uncomfortable silence. Henley whipped her head around to see Sam staring at a phone on the table. She walked over to him, looking down at the cellphone questioningly, dread creeping up inside of her upon noticing it was Mary's phone, and that Ketch was calling.

"Hey guys. Listen, uh, Ketch keeps callin' mom's phone."

"I'll get it!" Lady Bevell suggested excitedly. Dean turned to Sam, a look of annoyance gracing his features.

"Let it go to voicemail." Sam denied the call, as Dean grabbed Lady Bevell from behind.

"Let's take a short walk to the backyard." Lady Bevell struggled, maneuvering out of Dean's tight grip.

"Th-this is not going to stop!" she announced. Clearly the woman was desperate, and was just grasping at straws. "Soon enough they'll find out you're alive and then. . .Well if you want my advice—run."

"We're not running," Dean stated, shaking his head at her.

"Well, then, you die."

"Or," Sam butted in, peaking Henley's interest. She always liked alternate solutions, especially ones that involved not dying.

"Or what?" Lady Bevell asked in disbelief.

"Or we fight."

***

Henley stood next to her dad, while she surveyed the gaggle of american hunters that had gathered at Jodi's house. Her attention turned to the door, as a soft knock alerted the inhabitants that more people had arrived. She watched her father's and uncle's stony expressions as two surly men entered. The shorter of the two had the start of a receding hairline, and a face similar to that of a mouse. The other had softer features, a thick beard, and was a little more portly than his companion. She wondered who these two men were, for them to evoke such uncomfortable behavior from her family. Henley watched their exchange carefully, keeping her eyes on the two foreign men.
"Walt. Roy," Sam greeted, nodding his head at the both of them.
"Well damn." the bearded man exclaimed.
"We haven't seen you guys since—"