Dearest Readers,
Thank you again for reading this story, because it really means a lot to me. I love writing about these characters, and hope you're loving them just as much as I do! What do you think Persie is going to end up doing about Dean's deal? Are they a good fit for each other? What about Sammy? Well, most of these questions shall be answered soon.
Let me know what you think!
XOXO Ally Layne.
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TO: Seaweed Brain
Rachel does not know anything about a spirit controlling humans whilst under a trance. I have been around the Hecate and Morpheus Cabins to see if they know anything, but no luck with any of them, either. Let me know if you need anything else, I will keep researching and keep you updated.
FROM: Wise Girl
Persie sighed, sending a quick thank you before putting the cellphone back in her pocket.
"Was that your friend you were texting earlier?" Dean asked, curiously as they waited at the front desk of the hospital for any news.
"Not that guy that was here before?" Sam added, peering around Dean's broad frame with a raised brow.
Persie shook her head. "No, when I need information about something I always go to Wise Girl."
"That's not her actual name, is it?"
She glared at the older Winchester. "No, my best friend's actual name isn't Wise Girl. She just happens to act like a wise-ass all the time so that's what I call her."
Dean snorted. "Sounds like I oughta start calling Sammy Wise-Guy-"
"I think Wise-Ass seems just right, actually," Persie finished before raising a brow at the man in question. "What do you think, Sammy?"
"I think the two of you shouldn't be allowed in the same room together," Sam deadpanned, just as the nurse walked back up to them.
"No, sorry," she said, walking back up to the desk. "We don't have any comatose little girls."
Persie blinked. "Well, there goes that," she muttered.
"You sure?" Sam asked.
The nurse nodded. "Totally. It's mostly old guys. And, well, Callie. She's been around ever since I started working here."
"Callie?" Dean repeated, his head tilting in curiosity.
Persie had to admit, it was rather cute.
"Yeah, it's so sad," the nurse said emphatically. "And poor Dr. Garrison, he just won't give up on her."
"And is Callie one of his patients?" Persie asked eyebrows scrunched together. Normally doctors wouldn't be so attached, but what'd she know, she wasn't a doctor.
"No," the nurse frowned sadly. "She's his daughter."
"Thank you," Sam said, smiling kindly at the nurse, who blushed and nodded her head. The three turned away from the desk, and he said softly, "We have to find her room."
Persie and Dean nodded in agreement and they set off for the coma ward, looking in the different rooms for a girl that fit her features.
Dean immediately paused and gestured for them to stop as well when a voice echoed from one of the rooms, "and the Huntsman stepped inside, and in the bed lay the wolf. So the huntsman took a pair of scissors and cut open the wolf's belly."
It was Dr. Garrison, speaking to a comatose young woman with dark hair and pale skin. Callie.
And what was the book that he was reading from? The Grimm Fairytales.
As soon as they walked in, Dr. Garrison looked up and shut the book with a cough. "Detectives," he acknowledged. "Can I help you?"
"We just heard Callie was your daughter," Dean started.
"And we wanted to say how very sorry we are," Sam added.
Dr. Garrison nodded, looking between the three with wary eyes. "Well, thank you." He paused for a second, before heading out the door. "If you'll excuse me-"
"Oh, we're actually headed this way, too!" Persie clambered cheerfully. "We'll walk with you."
Dean looked at him curiously as they walked down the hall. "How long has Callie been like that?"
Persie smacked his arm, giving him a scalding look.
Sam tried to mend the situation, "W-We don't mean to intrude. We can't possibly understand how hard it must be for you to see her like this."
The doctor just sighed. "Yeah, it's not easy." Another sigh. "She's-uh, been here since she was eight-years-old."
"That's when she was poisoned?"
"Yeah, she-uh, swallowed bleach." He looked upward, pursing his lips. "Can't still figure out how she got her hands on the bottle. My wife found her, and brought her here to the ER when I was on call."
"You're wife... uh, was that Callie's stepmother?" Dean asked.
Dr. Garrison paused in his steps. "Actually, yes. How'd you know that?"
Immediately recognizing the defense in the doctor's tone, Dean shrugged. "Lucky guess."
He nodded slowly. "Well, Julie was the only mother that Callie ever knew. My wife passed away last year... it's just Callie and me, now."
Persie couldn't hide her wince.
"She's all I got left."
The brothers shared a look, and Persie bit her lip. She knew that they were all they had left, and she hoped someday she could be added into the mix.
"Um, excuse me, I've gotta get back to work," Dr. Garrison interrupted, before heading off.
"Yeah," Dean said, and they watched as he walked off.
Persie looked up to the two Winchesters. "We've gotta do something. You heard what he was reading-"
Sam looked at her knowingly. "Yeah, we do."
.
.
.
.
They walked away from the ward and into the general ER where they knew Dr. Garrison was headed, still trying to figure out just what they were going to do, or say.
"Well, you're right, Sam," Dean admitted. "It's Snow White in spades."
"Yep," Sam agreed. "Stepmom poisons the girl, puts her into a deep sleep. What's the motive you think?"
"Could be like Mischa Barton," Dean supplied, "Sixth Sense, not the O.C."
Persie blinked. "Uh..."
He rolled his eyes. "Hey, the two of you seem to know fairytales, I know movies. She played the pasty ghost? You know the, uh, remember the mom that had the thing, you know, where you keep the kid sick so you get all the attention?"
She still looked confused as ever. "No...?"
"Munchausen Syndrom by Proxy," Sam answered.
She raised her arms in annoyance. "How the Hades am I supposed to know that?"
Sam's eyebrows scrunched. "Didn't you go to college?"
Persie huffed, crossing her arms. "Uh, yeah, for like two minutes and for Marine Biology!"
Dean laughed. "Marine Biology? Really, Kelpie?"
She shrugged. "Would pay the bills, you know?"
"Okay, okay, so say all these years Callie's been suffering silently because no one knows the truth about what her Stepmother did?" Sam interjected.
"And after all this time she just got angrier, forcing her spirit to lash out?" Persie added. When the brothers nodded, she let out a sigh of relief. She was starting to get the hang of this spirit stuff. She was definitely no Nico D'Angelo AKA Ghost King, but she was still kinda badass and wanted to get this right.
"Right. Meanwhile, she has to listen to her dad tell her all these deranged stories about a rabid wolf or a cannibalistic old lady, it's enough to drive anyone nuts," Dean said.
Persie crossed her arms. "So how do we stop her? It's not like she's dead, and her father's keeping her alive."
Dean snorted. "Makes it a bit hard to burn the bones."
"You think?" Sam said sarcastically.
Suddenly, the doors to the Emergency Room drop-off busted open, and an elderly woman covered in what looked like canine bites was wheeled in.
"Okay, what's her status?" A doctor asked, coming running from behind the desk.
"72-year-old female sustained several lacerations and puncture wounds," the EMT answered. "BP is 80 over 40 and falling. Sinus tachycardia."
"What was the last story Dr. Garrison was reading to Callie in the room?" Persie asked the brothers, as they watched the woman be wheeled behind the doors into what would most likely be an operation.
If she lived that long.
"Little Red Riding Hood," Sam said, just as Dean started walking determinedly toward the ER.
He reached the doors just in time to see a white sheet being placed over the old woman.
"Excuse me!" he called out to one of the EMTs who was walking over to the desk. "Was she the only victim?"
"She was found by the side of the road, barely alive," the EMT answered. "Alone."
So where was Little Red?
Sam spoke up, "We need to find her next of kin."
"Yeah, she has a granddaughter."
A whoosh of air left Persie's chest. "Do you have an address?"
He nodded, pulled out a piece of paper, and wrote it down for them, before handing it off and walking away.
Dean took the paper from his hand and shoved it into his coat pocket. Turning to the other two, he said, "Hey, you find a way to stop Callie, okay?"
"What about you?" Sam asked, his face scrunching up in worry.
Persie ran a hand down her face, just knowing he was about to embark on a solo suicide mission.
"I'm gonna go stop the Big Bad Wolf," Dean's grin faltered slightly at the words. "Which is the weirdest thing I've ever said."
Persie rolled her eyes. "I highly doubt that, hotshot."
His grin came back full force. "I think you may need to get your head out of the gutter, Kelpie." He started to walk away after patting her shoulder delicately as if he were speaking to a child.
She let out a huff. No way was he going to do this alone.
Quickly she jogged to keep up with him, tossing a farewell over her shoulder to the younger Winchester. This, however, had Dean stopping in his tracks and giving her a hard look. "No. You are not-"
"You are not in charge of me, Winchester," She cut him off, crossing her arms for good measure. "And you are going to need backup if this wolf dude is anything like the other fairytales have gone."
He let out a deep breath. "I'm not okay with this."
"You don't need to be."
"You are going to do everything I say-"
"Okay, just because you're older than me-"
"And exactly how I say it."
"Doesn't mean you can tell me what to do."
Their glares, green on green, seemed to not get anywhere.
They both let out a huff, maybe a puff or two, and stubbornly stalked out to the car to go try and save Little Red from the Big Bad Wolf.
.
.
.
.
After an ample amount of warnings and worrying from Dean Winchester on the way to the house, Persephone Jackson decided that she was ready for whatever came next. It was at least something different than being stuck in the car with this dingdong, and she could use a change of scenery.
They entered the house, Dean with his gun ready, and Persie with her sword in hand and eyes peeled for anything that may or may not go wrong.
She followed Dean into the house, double-checking the sightlines that he had cleared, and watching their backs for anyone, or anything, that decided to attack. Dean paused in front of her, and she quickly glimpsed over his shoulder to see a young girl, blonde-haired and blue-eyed, was wearing a red-hooded sweater and had a bloody wound on her head.
Persie gulped and immediately felt that someone was watching her.
She dropped back just as Dean rushed over to the girl. "Are you okay?"
Once again, the basic fact that Persie was a demigod saved her life when she heard footsteps quick enough to turn around and block the blow that came from a giant man behind her.
The girl screamed, and Dean immediately reacted. "Persie!"
She was thrown from the sheer force into the wall behind her, hitting her head and sinking to the floor.
In the slight haze, she noticed Dean fighting the man who was supposedly the Big Bad Wolf and watched in shock as the man's strength was a match for Dean's own.
Wow, Dean must be strong...
Persie huffed at her own mind betraying her. She'd blame the hit on the head, she decided, before standing up and grabbing Riptide to run at the man just as Dean was thrown into the glass cabinet and shattering upon impact.
However, considering the man was merely being controlled by a spirit, Riptide had no effect, and she was left defenseless and without a weapon.
"Shit," she grunted, using her forearm to deflect an attack, and using her other forearm for the next. She was going to be covered in bruises, later. And not the good kinds.
In the doorway to the room, Persie caught a glimpse of the young girl she saw at the last scene of the crime- Callie. At least, the eight-year-old version of Callie.
During her split second of hesitation, she was punched and thrown to the floor. Her vision flickered around her and was starting to see tunnel vision after that second blow she sustained. She could taste the blood in her mouth from the hit and could hardly move from its shock.
The wolfman climbed on top of her and was just about to scratch her neck open when Dean ran over with a war-cry and tackled him off of her. Persie let out a breath and slowly got up just in time to see Dean with a pair of scissors.
When the fight carried on past her prone form, she stuck her leg out even farther, tripping the wolf-man and making him fall on his back, just in time for Dean to pin him to the ground and use the scissors to make the final blow-
"Woah, stop! Woah- Woah!"
Dean paused, Persie paused, everyone stopped moving.
Did Sam do it?
"Wh-What... where am I?"
Not bothering to worry about answering him, Dean got off the man and hurried over to where Persie had leaned herself against the wall. He took her face delicately in his hands, turning her head to see where she had gotten hit and wincing at the massive bruise that took up god-near half her face.
"Are you okay?" He asked, before rolling his eyes at his own question. "No, of course, you're not okay."
She patted one of his hands with her own. "I'll be fine, hotshot. Don't worry 'bout me."
He chuckled but frowned when he touched a particularly tender spot and made her hiss in pain. "This is why I didn't want you to come-"
"Why, so you would get yourself killed?"
Dean sighed. "We all know how this is gonna end, Kelpie-"
She looked up in confusion. "What..."
"I made a deal, and now I gotta own up to it," Dean told her, shaking his head still at the sight of her injuries. "You don't need to be dragged into this."
She peered up at him through her eyelashes. "What if I want to be dragged into it?"
Dean pursed his lips and didn't answer as he helped her along and into the Impala.
He left her for a few moments to make sure the young girl was safe at a neighbor's house, for the time being, making sure she wasn't left alone. Persie refused to leave until that happened, and Dean, even though he insisted he didn't care, actually really cared about kids and the little girl.
Neither talked for the rest of the drive, but both of them had minds working up a storm.
When they made it back to the hospital, Dean helped her out of the car and guided her into the ER.
"Dean..."
He sighed. "Yeah?"
"I'm not gonna let you die," she told him, her eyes whirling as she tried to stay awake, only to pass out seconds later in his arms.
If Dean Winchester teared up at her statement, no one would ever know, and he certainly would never tell.
But if Sam saw him swipe under his eye as he walked in the door with an unconscious Persie, he didn't say a word.