A/N Sorry that it's been taking so long!!! I was suffering from writers block. Enjoy my loves!!!
The blood rushes away from my face immediately. I know I have to have gone completely ghost because I'm light headed and automatically feel like fainting. “You're my- my- my what?”
“I'm you're father. Here's my court mandated and lab tested DNA results.” He responds and pulls an envelope out of his khaki pants pocket.
I snatch the big manilla envelope from his hand and practically rip the top open. Inside there is a thick stack of papers. My hands are shaking furiously. I'm not sure why I'm so nervous, but I am. Everything in my body is screaming “Please don't be my father,” because if this is my father, I don't know what's going to happen.
The first five papers talked about the way they conducted the DNA diagnostic testing. They already had mine on file from all the times I have been in the hospital and when I got put into the states system after I was rescued from my mother. All he had to do was submit a sample and they had to compare his DNA to mine. Then I finally get to the result papers themselves.
Dean presses firmly against my back as he reads the paper over my shoulder. At first I can't find the place on the paper where it gives the results. All it is, is a bunch of numbers and percentages. Dean puts a hand on my shoulder and then uses his other to reach around me and point at the paper. There it is, in bold typing 'MATCH.'
My heart sinks in my chest. He really is my father. For the love of god, why the fuck is he here now? I've been alive for seventeen fucking years! Why now?
So I look at the rest of the papers that are behind the result papers. They're all court documents talking about hearings and arraignments with the state. About a custody hearing with the head of the state fostering system. Then finally the last paper in the stack tells me everything I need to know. They awarded him custody of me. No asking me about it, or Carol for that matter. By law he was now my legal guardian.
“So as you can see, I'm your dad and I'm here to see your foster mom and serve her with these papers. Then you can come and live with me.” He smiles.
“Okay listen here asshole there isn't a chance in hell that I'm going to let you-” Dean starts to shout but I cut him off.
“Babe, that's enough. I got this. Okay look, I don't give a rats ass what this piece of paper says. I don't know how you found out I even exist, and I really don't give a flying fuck. I've been alive for seventeen years. Sixteen of those years I lived with the most monstrous woman that has ever existed. She let men rape and abuse me. Then she would abuse me some more, and where were you? By the looks of it you were off somewhere with your nice car, probably in a nice house, living a good life. While I, your spawn, was tortured. So excuse me when I tell you that I don't give a shit what that paper says. You were only a sperm donor, and you my good sir, can go fuck yourself. I'm not going anywhere with you.”
Dean wraps an arm around my waist and holds me tightly. He doesn't want me to go anywhere either, and I wont if I can help it. I will not leave him or Carol. They're my everything.
“The police will see it differently.” My sperm donor says flatly. I look down at the papers in my hand and read his name. Jacob Daniel Emory.
“Look Jacob, go ahead. Come back with a cop. I dare you, because quite frankly I know my laws and my rights. I'm seventeen, not ten. If I refuse to come with you they cannot make me. Carol will stay my legal guardian. So bring them with you. Until then, I'll be right here.” I say and then push Dean back into the house so I can slam the door in the dudes face.
The nerve of some people! Did he really just think I was going to pack my bags and go with him? Fuck no! For all I know that guy could beat and rape me too. People are fucking stupid, I swear.
From outside he shouts something about “You're my kid, and I'll be back. I deserve to have you,” and blah, blah, blah. Just a bunch of bullshit. Honestly I don't know how even knows I exist. I don't have any grandparents that I know of. No aunts. No uncles. It was just me and my mother.
My mother.
That fucking bitch.
“I need to go to the penitentiary.” I say and turn to jog up the stairs.
Dean follows me close behind, “What, why?!”
My bedroom is a complete mess but right now, I really don't care. I need to go to see her. She's the only person who can answer my questions. Why now? Seventeen years into my life. None of this makes any sense. Until now I was convinced that I have no family.
“Damn it, Sammie. Look at me!” Dean grabs me and spins me around so that I'm facing him, “Why?”
“Thee only person who could have told him I exist is my mom. She's in prison. Therefore I need to go to the penitentiary to see her.” I say and then pull away from him so I can find my hobo bag and my iPhone.
“You can't go see her. She's a monster!” Dean shouts desperately as I run around my room and then head towards the stairs once I have everything. He grabs for me but I'm just out of his reach “Samantha Jay!”
Holy shit. He actually used my full name. Never, not even once, has Dean ever resorted to using my full name. The idea that he would ever feel the need to use it is ridiculous. I must have merited it in some way though.
As I turn to look at his face, he's desperate. The look on his face is pure panic. “You can't go to the prison. What if something horrible happens while you're there? I couldn't live with myself if anything bad ever happened to you.”
I grasp both of his hands in mine and kiss them softly, “Dean, I have to go. Don't you see? I have to figure all this out. That man. My “father”. He can take me away. Then there's a chance something even worse can happen to me because I'll be living with a stranger. If I can get any answers at all, then I may be able to solve this little issue. I can't even bare the thought of leaving you, babe. So this needs to be fixed.”
His eyes are shifting and his emotions are changing in front of me. It's almost like he doesn't know what to feel. So instead of saying anything he pulls me in for a kiss. A soft warm lingering kiss. My stomach ties into knots and butterflies fly around in it all at the same time. It's amazing, really.
“Okay fine, but I'm going with you.” He finally whispers against my lips.
I can feel my lips turn up into a smile, while his lips still brush against mine. “Alright babe, that's fine.”
He slips his hand into mine and we make our way out the front door. The only way we have to get there is by bus and the ride up there is an hour long one. It's a good thing I don't have anything else planned for the day or I would be so bummed out.
Everything inside of me is screaming at me. Trying to tell me that this is some shifty business. Why would my father show up now? Why did he have to show up at all? He can't be that great of a guy. After all, he knocked up my mother. Which makes him one dumb ass motherfucker.
Dean and I hitch a ride on the transit to the next town over, where the woman's correctional facility is located. This isn't a trip I ever expected to be making. One that I never wanted to have to make, but at this point I don't really think I have any other choice.
The bus smells like a musty gym locker. Not a pleasant smell at all. Everything inside of me wants to plug my nose and hide my face. Dean doesn't seem to notice the smell. His face is hard as stone as he stares out the window watching the world pass us by.
Putting him through all of this is agonizing. I want to tell him that I don't need him and that he should have just stayed home, but I would be lying. I need him here. If he weren't here by my side I would most likely just breakdown and give up completely. He feeds me his strength just by being by my side. I don't think he understands how much he really does mean to me. How much he really does help me through everything. I feel like we have been together for years. It doesn't feel like it's been such a short amount of time.
I love him.
“Sammi.” The thick deep flowing voice calls to me as I shake back and forth.
My eyes flutter open slowly. I find Dean shaking me and still calling my name. His face is calm but from behind the glisten in his onyx eyes from his bridge piercing, I can see all the worry. “Yeah?”
“This is our stop.” Dean says and stands slowly, picking my bag up for me and slinging it over his shoulder.
I stand too. Hitting my head on the bar above me with and “ompf.” Dean kisses the top of my head chuckling at the same time. Slowly I walk off of the bus and find Dean and I standing at the bus stop not even a hundred yards from the prison.
My pulse is thumping in my head and my heart has began to beat so hard that my body is quaking to its beat. I'm surprised that Dean can't hear it, or feel lit for that matter. The contents of my stomach are threatening to make a reappearance as we venture closer and closer to the entrance.
The massive building of concrete, steal, and coils of razor wire is intimidating. My breath is coming in short shallow gasps. I'm beginning to feel faint as we come to the front gate. I can feel Dean's eyes boring into me as I begin to sway.
In a split second his arms are around me and he's holding me tightly against his chest, stroking my hair. I can feel his heart beating just as fast as mine. He's managed to keep his composure but Dean is scared too.
“You don't have to do this baby girl. No one is making you. This is your decision.” Dean speaks slowly and calmly.
With his arms around me, keeping me tethered to reality, I manage to calm my nerves enough to stand straight and not faint. “No, I have to do this.”
Dean sighs and lets me go, nodding his head before kissing me softly and taking my hand in his. He really is keeping me hooked onto the little amount of reality that is left. This entire situation is insane.
After signing in at the desk behind the bulletproof glass in the waiting room, the both of us pass through security like robots on autopilot. Allowing guards to pat us down, search through my bag, and wave over us with their wands. They hand me a key and send me in the direction of some lockers where they are requiring me to lock up my belongings for security purposes.
A tall gangly boyish faced guard escorts Dean and I back towards the visiting area. He slips his key into the lock inside the door and then waits for the hornlike buzzer to sound, telling him that he can open the enormous steel door.
We are ushered into a cafeteria like room, only, without the lunch lines. Inside the room there are circular cafeteria like tables with the benches attached, that are bolted to the cold concrete floor. The guard is going on about safety precautions, and if we need any help to just shout and soeone will be there to help us.
We pass by many women in orange jumpers. The majority of then are big women with very butch looks and face tattoos. Some of them are normal with their hair pulled back into tight ponytails. They look like prison has taken its toll on them too though. None of them have a sweet or even friendly appearance. It's just sad.
The guard brings us over to an empty table and has us sit down on one side of the table. Dean slumps down beside me and wraps an arm around my shoulders. I don't like the way some of these women are looking at him. Like they haven't seen a man not in uniform before. Some of them are even looking away from there visitors just to stare, even if their visitors appear to be their husbands, boyfriends, and lovers. These women make me want to scream out in anger and slink away to hide in a corner, all at the same time.
The sounds of shackles against the concrete pull my attention from all the other prisoners. I know what's coming but I don't want to look up from my hands in my lap. I don't want to see her face. I don't want to look into those hollow hazel eyes. Or see my face, twenty years older, staring back at me. Not after everything she's done to me. The one sting about us that isn't the same is our eyes, mine are blue, and who we are as people. Other than that I look just like her.
My breathing becomes shallow again when Dean's grip tightens on me and the shackles clank against the metal table.
“Sammie,”