“Remembering our loved ones is breathing life into their fading images, that we might once more see their faces and pass along a tearful “I miss you.”
Richelle E. Goodrich
Belle grunted, knees curled up to her chest as she let the tv drone on in the background, Morgan was still gone, she had just gotten off the phone with him, apparently they had some weirdo who had a thing for dismembering women and mix and matching their limbs.
Interesting.
Anyways, it looked like it'd be a few more days, so here the huntress was, sat on the couch, eyes glazed in thought as she caught on to what the scene was. A father wrapping his daughter into a hug, holding her.
9 years ago, a small town in Ohio, with Belle Winchester
The low rumble of the tires rolling over the pavement soothed the young girl as she lay in the bus, sirens echoing in her mind as she plays with her fingers.
It's okay bambina
The child whined, shifting, pulling the sides of her coat tighter against her body.
It's time for you to leave, time to find him.
Find him? She has to find him.
She finally had gotten a tip from a local hunter who spotted him in a small motel in Ohio. So the young girl was put on a bus and here she was.
The bus squealed as it came to a stop, the driver glancing up at her in the rear view mirror, "Hey Kid, end of the line."
With a huff, she pulled her backpack on, hopping up and walking to the front, "Thank you." She whispers, eyes tired as she slowly clambered out of the vehicle. Her short legs almost catching as she steadied herself. The man looks down at her nodding.
"You be safe, alright? It's dark." Belle nodded, walking down the street as she sees a tiny, run down diner. Huffing she hobbled over, small boots clicking on the pavement as she entered the restaurant. Pushing the door with a huff, the bell chiming, grunting she waddles over to a booth, climbing up she settles down. Just as she caught her breath, a kind looking older woman, crows feet framing her rosy cheeks and dusty grey hair walked over. "Hello sweetpea, where are your parents?"
Belle blinked owlishly at the elder woman, "I have money," she whispers quietly when the waitress tilts her head, going into her pockets she pulls out two slightly crumpled 20 dollar bills and places them on the table. "I'm just hungry."
Yet, she takes the rumpled looking child in stride, just nodding kindly as she kneels beside the table. "I see, are you here alone?" At the girls answering nod, the worker places a menu down on the table. "Well, why don't you pick some food out, and I'll get an order into the cook, right away. "
Belle nodded, looking in thought, "Can I have some chocolate milk and a cheeseburger please?"
"Fries with that honey?" The waitress asks, cheeks crinkling with a smile. This child was adorable, looking at her freckled face scrunch in thought, long dark shirley temple curls falling around her wildly and the brightest green eyes she's ever seen look up at here in wonder. Well let's just say the elder woman was refraining from scooping her up and holding her in her arms and never letting go.
"Y-yes please," she whispers, playing with the flayed corner on the menu.
With a tap of her pen on her notepad, the waitress nodded, "that'll be out in a giffy dear."
The young girl sniffled, the chill of winter finally seeping from her bones. Looking up with a smile when the waitress places a cup of chocolate milk infront of her with a straw and a colouring mat with some crayon. Concentrating, she slowly filled in the gaps with the colours.
Suddenly the bell chimmed and a man walks in, he had dirty blonde hair and freckles dotting his cheeks, leather wrapped around him as he take a seat at the booth infront of the young girl, not taking note of her, although, her eyes followed him.
Shaking her head, Belle took a sip, ignoring the thump of her heart in her chest. She didn't think it would be this easy, yeah it was a small town but she didn't think he would just... walk in to her life. "Hello darling," the man smile, his voice gruff and flirtatious, "a bacon cheeseburger, fries and a beer please." He winks at her, ignoring her eye roll as she nodded.
Belle swung her legs back and forth under the booth, still colouring the paper, how was she supposed to talk to him? Hey, I'm your daughter you never knew you had with some woman you fucked and forgot about?
Yeah, great conversation Belle, grade A persuasion skills. No way he'd think you're some supernatural creature trying to kill him.
Her thought process is cut off when a plate is placed infront of her, "Here you go sugar plumbs," Shirley, or at least that's what her nametag said, smiled, picking up her now almost empty glass, "refill?"
Belle nodded meekly, "yes please."
"I'll be right back." She tells her, going back to the picture on her paper. Sticking her tongue out lightly in concentration, she eats her meal. Stopping when she felt eyes on her. Glancing up and looking across from her, she saw the waitress, Shirley.
The woman smiles at her, eyes crinkling with age and joy. "Hello darling." She says kindly, drawl present, "when you walked in I swore you had the greenest eyes I've ever seen." She paused and glanced to the man seated in the other booth. "But then a man came in with the exact same shade and it makes you wonder."
Belle shrugged, picking at the slice of pickled on her plate. Not meeting the elder women's eyes. "Look, Miss, I'm just... trying to eat a meal." She whispers.
Shirley leans back, stumped, not knowing how to deal with the child infront of her. She didn't know the situation and usually she was an 'if it doesn't apply to you, keep your nose out,' type of woman. But this little girl looked so... lost?
She couldn't just sit there. Yet, the elder woman nods, sitting up and leaving. Belle sat, stewing in thought as her eyes went up to peek at the man again when she realized his eyes were on her. Squeaking, her eyes shot back to her placemat. The bear was less apealaling than before. Sighing she continues to colour in his bow when a voice startled her, "cool bear, I like it's hat." Glancing up her eyes met a mirror like image.
Shit.
Why her?
Fuck.
Across her sat Dean Winchester.
He smiles at her kindly, and Belle's gaze moves on to her drink. Sipping it and turning back to her picture. Not knowing what to say.
"Oh....kay," Dean says, looking at the curls framing her face. "So the strangest thing happened." He says, "I was minding my own business when the waitress suggest I come talk to you."
Belle doesnt look up from the paper, "Shirley." She whispers, picking up a fry and eating it.
"Shirley?" He asks, watching the crayons slide across the paper.
The girl scrunched her nose, "you called her 'the waitress, her name is Shirley." Belle explained.
Dean nods, "Okay, why would Shirley ask me to see you?"
Belle grunted, "Do you... do you remember Lila Apollyon?" Dean's brows furrowed, not following her, she sighed, grabbing an old Polaroid photo from her coat, sliding it across the table. He picks it up lightly twirling it between his fingers.
"I... uh," His eyes scan the smiling face, large black curls framing the woman a kind smile consuming her face. "I think so... Sequim, Washington... it was about..." he stops harshly head snapping up to the girl with the bright green eyes, and curly black hair.
The girl scoffs lightly, "Seven years ago?" She mutters, "You were working a haunt." Belle whispers, "you saw a pretty girl at the local library, you went home with her. And you were gone, three days later." The young girl still didn't meet his gaze, carefully shadeing in the bears belly. "She was 18 you were 17."
Dean swallowed, tongue swiping across his teeth, "Is she here? Lila?"
Belle scoffed, "She died two years ago." The girl muttered, "a demon."
A pang shot through the elder man's heart, "I'm sorry." He said hoarsely, memories drawn back to his own mother. "Why... why are you here? Where have you been?"
"With friends," the girl said, eyes flicking up to his, "She told me to come here. Before she died, she told me to find you." Belle picked at the skin on her thumb, "you're hard to find."
Dean grunts, fear flowing through his veins, he couldn't... this couldn't be real, could it? "You uh..." he stopped, shaking his head, "why... why do you think I'm?"
Suddenly he was pierced with a knowing gaze, one that didn't fit the pouty cheeks of adolescence. "She didn't sleep around, the timelines match up and you leave your DNA around," sliding over another paper Dean froze at the words. "What, you didn't think I would test it to make sure?"
On bold print, Dean Winchester Father.
Well fuck him right?
"Sonofabitch," he whispers.
Belle scoffed, "Daughter of one, actually."
The elder man looks to her, slamming the page down, ignoring the flash of anger that runs through him at the girls jump. "How do I know you're not lying?"
Belle grunts, "look at you, and look at me. You honestly dont see any resemblance?" She whispers. "Look, if this is all... I'll leave." The girl says, "It can be like you never met me..."
"No, please kiddo, I'm just uh, I'm shocked." Dean rushes, hand flying to hers, "can... what's your name?"
The girl recoils her hand, grabbing it close to her, "Belle, my name is Belle Mary Apollyon."
"Belle... Mary." Dean gasped, a tear falling from his eye, "Belle Mary."
Present Day, Belle Winchester.
Sighing Belle rolled her shoulders, feeling the crackling of pressure under her skin.
Fuck why did these memories have to come now? She lounged lazily in her, well, in Derek's oversized FBI hoodie, sniffing she walked to the kitchen grabbing a pint of ice cream slumping back down on the couch and bundled up in a blanket, it wasnt particularly cold outside, but the teen had cranked up the AC, enjoying the chill of the room. What? She liked to be comfy, sue her.
Narrowing her eyes at the TV she watched two brothers laughing, punching the other's arm as they fought playfully.
5 years ago, With Belle Winchester
The teen sat quietly in the back of baby, pulling on one of the tendrils of hair falling down her shoulder. The car was parked outside of the small apartment, her father was up in the room, talking about his brother, Sam Winchester. Dad said he needed his help to find John... Belle was convinced maybe the man should stay gone. Glancing at a scar on her arm, an old knife wound solidified that emotion.
Whatever, Dad didn't listen to the eleven-year-old much, which is fair, though he was always interested in her research that she ended up finding. The girl was good with old records, she had John's journal memorized, and so many more supernatural books and lore.
Two figures began walking toward the car, talking loudly enough for the girl to hear snippets of conversation, "So what are you gonna do? You're just gonna live some normal, apple pie life? Is that it?" She heard her father say to him, accusingly.
"No. Not normal. Safe." The other man, she was gonna assume Sam, said, trying to reason with him.
Dean spun on his heel, now at the back of the car, the young girl watching them in the rearview mirror. "And that's why you ran away." He states, looking away.
"I was just going to college." Sam snapped, arms crossed, "It was Dad who said if I was gonna go I should stay gone. And that's what I'm doing."
Makes sense, the girl thinks, it sounds like something John would say.
Can you tell the two didn't get along?
"Yeah, well, Dad's in real trouble right now. If he's not dead already. I can feel it." Belle couldn't help but feel guilty at the tinge of relief that thought brings her, whining as she tries to beat it down. Sam was silent, and Belle watched as Dean continued, his eyes wide, "We can't do this alone." He admits eyes flickering toward the Impala, but Sam doesnt take notice.
The younger man just scoffs, "Yes you can."
Dean threw his hands in anger, "Yeah, well, I don't want to." He sighs, silently begging his brother to just agree with him.
There's a few moments where it was just quiet, Belle carefully watched the two figures shift, the atmosphere heavy. "What was he hunting?"
Dean smiled brightly, freckled cheeks stretching as he opened the trunk, propping it up with a shotgun, digging through the freshly organized clutter. Groaning the girl realized he messed up all her work."All right, let's see, where the hell did I put that thing?" He muttered Belle shuffling in her seat when she realized he was looking for the file currently beside her on the seat.
"So when Dad left, why didn't you go with him?" Sam asked, watching his brother dig throw things around.
Her father paused his digging as he think, trying to remember where he'd placed the manilla folder, "We were working our own gig. This, uh, voodoo thing, down in New Orleans." Belle smiled lightly, New Orleans was beautiful, the beads, confetti and parades. She met an older woman, a high priestess that was willing to talk to her about some of the voodoo lore, she was beautiful, Belle remembered, deep vanilla dark skin with gorgeous hair that sprung in tightly coiled curls. Piercings of gold and jewels that were mesmerizing to the girl, Mama Dede, she was told to call her. Dad didn't like her, nor did she like Dad, but Belle... she was fascinated.
Anyways.
Sam tilted his head confused, "You keep saying "we" whose "we"? He asked and realization dawned on Dean, oh yeah, he left the papers with Belle!
Her father smiled, "Hey kiddo, can you bring me the file?" Dean called, ignoring the confused noise he brother made.
Belle opened the door, clambering out, the girl was rather small for her age, not yet hitting the four feet she was supposed to be at, but she didn't mind so much. Her father was a giant anyways, and that apparently ran in the family because her Uncle was fricken huge. Stepping out in her small boots Jean's and leather jacket, she walked over, papers clutched in her hand nervously. "Hello," she whispers, handing the file to her Dad.
Sam looked at her in shock, mouth hanging slightly open, "Sammy, meet Belle Mary Winchester, my daughter and your niece."
Her Uncle flashed Dean a look, "You have a daughter?" He hissed, looking over the kid's facial features, bright apple green eyes that could only belong to his brother, similar freckles, matching noses, oh god she even had his lips. She was a practical clone, except instead of the dirty blonde hair of his brother, she had long ebony curls. He could admit, his niece was the most adorable kid he'd ever seen, and looking at Dean's facial expression of absolute adoration, okay yeah his heart was melting a bit.
Sam smiled, "Hey Belle," he whispers, eyes shooting over to his brother, "When did... how?"
"I didn't think I'd have to explain the birds and the bees to you Sammy." Dean said ignoring the bitch face he received, "You remember Lila Apollyon?" At Sam's nod he gestured to Belle, "ta-da! Anyways, the kid found me a few months after you left for college, been with me ever since." Her Dad explains, eyes softening as Belle scrubs her eyes tiredly.
Dean continued, opening the file, "All right, here we go. So Dad was checking out this two-lane blacktop just outside of Jericho, California. About a month ago, this guy." He shoves the papers to his brother, "They found his car, but he vanished. Completely MIA."
Sam read over them carefully, "So maybe he was kidnapped." He said and Belle made a noise of disagreement, which her father echoed, pulling the girl into his side so she could put her weight on him and warm her in the chill of the night.
"Yeah. Well, here's another one in April." Dean states throwing another article at him, making sure not to jostle the girl tucked into his side. "Another one in December 'oh-four, 'oh-three, 'ninety-eight, 'ninety-two, ten of them over the past twenty years." Dean continued, his arm coming down to soothe Belle, tucking some of her more wild curls as he spoke with Sam. "All men, all the same five-mile stretch of road."
Belle hummed in at the warmth, "It started happening more and more, so Dad went to go dig around. That was about three weeks ago. I hadn't heard from him since, which is bad enough." He picked up a bag from the back, "Then I get this voicemail yesterday."
The girl stiffened as John's voice comes through the speakers of the device. "Dean...something big is starting to happen...I need to try and figure out what's going on. It may... Be very careful, Dean. We're all in danger."
Sam watched the two curiously, "you know there's EVP on that?"
Father and Daughter shared a matching "bitch please" look and turned to Sam at the same time. "Not bad, Sammy. Kinda like riding a bike, isn't it?" Dean teases, "All right. We slowed the message down, then ran it through a gold wave, took out the hiss, and this is what we got." Dean said, playing the tape again.
"I can never go home." A haunting voice states sadly. Sam repeating the last piece, grumbling as he took in Dean's look.
Her father sighed, holding his daughter just a fraction closer, "You know, in almost four years I've never bothered you, never asked you for a thing." He says lowely, eyes not meeting Sam's gaze as he played with his daughter's hair.
"All right, I'll go, I'll help you find him." Her Uncle stated, eyes glancing at the drowsy child putting weight on her father. "But I have to get back first thing Monday. Just wait here." Sam says, shaking his head as he turns to leave but Dean stops him.
"What's first thing Monday?" Dean asks, looking up at him curiously.
Sam shifted uncomfortably, "I have this...I have an interview."
Dean scoffed, "What, a job interview?" He asked, brow raised, "Skip it."
"It's a law school interview, and it's my whole future on a plate." Her Uncle says defensively, arms crossed as he turns back to Dean.
Belle peaked at him through half-lidded eyes, as her Dad smiles proudly, "Law school?"
Sam grunted, avoiding eye contact, "So we got a deal or not?"
Dean nods, letting the man leave as he held his daughter tightly, rubbing her arm in a comforting gesture. "You got your uncle back." He says happily, brushing her hair out of her face again. "You're lookin dead on your feet kiddo, why don't you get some sleep." Belle looked back at the Inpala uncertaintly, and Dean kneeled down to her, knowing the look that plagued his baby's face. "Hey, sweetheart, I'll chase the nightmares away." He promises, and Belle narrows her eyes.
"You can't chase away memories Daddy." The girl says quietly, "Dreams... they're your brain simulating awareness in REM cycles."
Dean scoffs pulling her into his arms and hoisting her up, not caring that she was technically too old to be picked up. "I'll chase away anything that hurts you princess." He whispers, "I got you." Belle sniffles, tucking her cold nose into Dean's neck and falling asleep. Sam walking out a few minutes later looking at the girl curiously.
"What-" he gets cut off by Dean shushing him harshly, Sam's eyes widened, lowering his voice, "What's wrong?" He asked.
Dean sighed, moving to the back baby, gesturing lightly for Sam to get the back door, placing Belle inside gently and wrapping her in a blanket he kept in the back for her. Pulling back, and closing the door, that he'd made sure didn't creak, just for this moment. He turned toward his brother, voice still quiet, but not whispering. "Belle gets nightmares, sleeping is hard for her." Dean rushed, ignoring Sam's curious look. "Anyways we better head out. Don't slam your door, this is the first time she's slept in two days and I swear if you wake her up-" He cuts himself off as Sam raises his hands.
"I won't I swear." He smiles, looking at the girl nestled in the blanket, "you seem..." he paused looking for the word. "Content together."
Dean nodded, "I love her so much man." He smiled brightly, "she's... she's everything to me." He whispers. Shaking himself when he realized how sappy it was. "Anyways let's go!"
Present Day with Belle Winchester
Belle smiled, memories circling behind her eyes, cuddled into the couch. "What happened Dad." She asked herself, pain speading through her chest. "Why'd you leave...?"
Shaking the emotions out from her she sleepily looked at the time, 3:43 am. Groaning she cuddled further into Derek's hoodie drowsily heading to her room.
God... she misses him.
“And they can’t understand, what hurts more—missing the other person, or pretending not to."
Khadija Rupa