Jack Kline's Sister

Chapter Six: Optimism

"Sam doesn't have to know."

Dean grinned the slightest amount, then glanced at Monica, who was still picking at the quarter. "And what do you want to do with her?"

"She can stay home. If I can stay home alone, she can."

Monica spun around. "I'm not staying home. If you're going, I'm going."

Dean smirked. "Yeah, like that's gonna happen. You're a kid."

"I'm the most powerful kid in the universe."

Dean quirked an eyebrow sarcastically. "Okay. Say I bring you along. What are you going to do? Sit in the car the whole time?"

"No, I'm going to hunt. I make a great fake FBI agent."

"You look fifteen, at the most."

"So? I'm a wonder with makeup. I can make myself look at least seventeen, and you can tell whoever it is, if they ask, that I'm your niece and got special clearance to go with since this is my passion. I'll be like your ride along agent in training."

Dean studied her for a moment. "No." He stood up and went to the fridge. "I'll go check it out by myself."

Jack shot his sister a, 'look what you did' glare that she ignored. "But we're supposed to have a partner for all hunts now, right? We can be hunting buddies."

Dean stared at him. "A, don't call it that. And B, you're gonna back me up?"

Jack looked slightly annoyed and ever more determined. "Dean, I need to do something."
"So do I." Monica walked to them. She had abandoned the quarter. Jack glanced at her for a moment in a way that said, 'get out of my speech.'

Monica gave him a smug look that said, 'make me.'

"You don't understand," Jack continued. "I could have killed Michael."

Michael. Monica flinched. She had arrived late enough to miss the latest Michael episode, but she'd heard plenty.

Dean looked down and sighed.

"Here," Jack continued. "When I was strong enough, I could've. But--there was so much going on--and then, everything else happened because I was distracted, and stupid, and--"

"Hey." Dean looked at him. "You didn't do anything wrong."

"Neither did you." Monica could feel Jack's energy tighten. He was getting frustrated. "But that doesn't make it any easier, does it? So I can't just sit here, in the bunker, thinking about it all day. What I could have done differently, how I can't do anything about it now. But I can do this."

Monica looked at Dean, praying silently he would say yes.

"I can hunt," Jack ended, pinning Dean with soul-piercing eyes. "Give me a chance."

Dean thought for a moment. "Okay."

                                                                              ✴✴✴

An hour later they entered a small cafe. Monica tried to keep her pace even, her face calm. It was easier said than done. Every so often Jack gave her a, 'are you okay?' glance. She always returned it with a, 'stop treating me like I'm six. I'm fine,' glance.

"This was his favorite spot?" Dean asked, looking around the busy room.

"His obituary said he loved having breakfast here every morning. Which is sort of oddly specific."