The Price of Freedom

Chapter 33

Chapter 33

*Six Months Later*

Dean picked up a bottle of whiskey and poured another glass.

"Can I have some of that?" Sam asked.

"You should slow down. That'd be your third in the past two hours," Dean remarked.

"Fine, whatever."

Healthy Sammy, now just as heavy a drinker as Bobby. It made Dean mad. How could Farrah do that to them? How could she just leave them alone like that? Expecting them not to look for her, not to feel like she was dead? She'd left them cold turkey.

"Did either of you sleep last night?" asked Castiel, who was rather worse for wear himself. Eventually he had had to return to heaven, and their demands, coupled with his grief over Farrah, had given him no chance to do anything but worry and work. Rarely did he even visit anymore.

"I got a few minutes," said Sam.

"Liar. You were reading at five this morning." Dean rolled his eyes. "No. Neither of us are sleeping."

Sadly he took a seat across from Dean. "I miss her too, but you must figure out how to live without her." He lowered his eyes. "I have been searching with any spare time I have. All that I have been able to find is that she's still in the United States."

"And she's alive?" Sam asked.

"Yes. Occasionally I feel a scratch or a bullet wound, but it heals almost instantly."

"So she's hunting," said Dean. "Have you been able to narrow it to any state or coast?"

"No. As soon as I get something, I personally go to look, but she may be able to sense where I am, because when I go, she leaves. Unless I can find the exact room she's in, she will leave before I get the chance to find her."

"We've been tracking her aliases," said Sam. "She has to be using a new one, because none of them have been in use since she left."

"She may not even look like herself anymore. She may even appear to be an old woman. We may never find her."

Suddenly one of their phones rang, and Dean picked it up. "Hello?" he said gruffly.

"Is this Sammy?" a little girl asked. "Sam Winchester?"

"No. Who are you? How do you know us?"

"Sam helped my momma before I was born, and now she's in trouble, and she told me to call this number. Where's Sammy?" she sounded like she was about to cry, so he put it on speakerphone.

"Sam's here. I'm Dean, his brother. And you haven't answered my question. Who are you?"

"I'm Olivia, Jessica's niece. Momma told me Sam called my aunt Jess and they went to college together."

Dean looked at Sam with raised eyebrows. Sam jumped at the phone. "Wait, Jess had a sister...Margret! You're Margret's daughter?"

"Yes! I knew you'd know me! Sammy, Momma's in trouble! You gotta come help!"

"Yeah, we-wait, how old are you?"

"I just turned nine three months ago. Why does that matter?"

Sam's jaw dropped and he gaped for a moment. "It-it doesn't. Just get somewhere safe. We'll be there in a day or two, okay?"

"Hurry, please."

She hung up and Sam looked at Dean. "Margret was medically unable to have kids."

Dean rolled his eyes. "Great. A hellhound's probably after her. Nothing we can do now."

"Dean, let's at least go, see if we can get her to her grandparents' house. Those hellhounds might end up killing her to get to her mom."

"Fine."