Huntress

Part 23: To Be Saved

The Impala was parked on the side of the road, Toni handcuffed to the door as she sat in a huff in the backseat. Not wanting to be near her when you had a choice, you climbed out and sat on the boot where your Dad and Uncle were looking through all the mobile phones they'd acquired over time. They were trying to contact someone.

"Dead...dead...dead..." they mumbled intermittently, tossing the ones out of charge to the side. After a few more attempts you joined in and began to check for any with battery left.
"I got one." Dad said. You watched a frown fall on his face and put your phone back in the box. He glanced worriedly at you and your Uncle: "Jody."

Immediately you set off to make sure she was okay. The British Men of Letters were on a killing spree of any hunter they could get their hands on so anyone was at risk.

The journey allowed time for some serious tensions to simmer among the four of you. Not only had Toni practically attempted to kill each of you a few times over, but you had some sort of celestial-enhanced powers that were so far unpredictable and uncontrollable. Although they had saved you more than a few times now, you weren't entirely sure if they were safe. Especially considering you had no way of taming them thus far. Your Dad kept shooting you concerned looks through the rear-view mirror when he thought you couldn't see. Neither of you said anything about them, but you could tell he was eager to bombard you with questions. Since the restoration of the bunker there hadn't really been much of a chance to sit and talk and now wasn't exactly the time either. Instead, you all sat thinking the same worries over and over while no one dared voice them.

After driving for a while Uncle Dean screeched the car to a halt in Jody's driveway and the three of you clambered out hurriedly, all taking a quick look just to make sure Toni wouldn't be going anywhere.
"Jody!?" Uncle Dean called, bursting through the door and trying not to let his limp slow him down. Your eyes fell on where Jody sat on an armchair, holding a bag of frozen food to her head wound and black eye while Alex, her adopted daughter, stood over her. Jody pointed to a chair opposite her where Mary sat tied up. She smiled at you all. "Hello boys, Y/N."

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Alex was treating Uncle Dean's wound while he attempted to hold himself together despite the pain. She finished dressing it before taking a whisky glass and murmuring, "I'll get you something for the pain."
"You better make it a double."

Mary watched on, her smile never quite left as her eyes lingered on each of you. She watched you the most, as though intrigued. Even though she was the one tied up you couldn't help but feel like a lab-rat.

Your Dad walked in, holding Toni out in front of him as he guided her to where Mary was. "Do your thing." He ordered. His eyes were stern and his posture held authority, but you could see he was doubting.
You watched as Toni stumbled about herself, her eyes panicked. You knew it.

"She lied." Mary said to the room smugly.
"Mary's treatment," Toni began, taking a little step away from you all, "it's permanent. The Mary that you know is behind impenetrable walls and these ones, I'm afraid, can't be torn down with grenades."
You held your tongue at the opportunity for an 'I told you', aware it wasn't the time. But, as awful as it was, you felt a sense of relief that they hadn't formed a reverse treatment, otherwise it would stay in the back of your mind, a constant reminder that you could have had your mother back. Immense guilt rushed through you and you looked down in shame.
"Your mother can't be saved." Toni said. Although it was aimed at your Dad and Uncle, you felt the words hit you as though you were suddenly years younger and watching your own mother turn to an ice cold killing machine.

"Alright, that's it. That was the only reason we were keeping you alive..." Uncle Dean explained, cocking his gun and striding over to Toni. His limp was barely visible.
"This isn't going to stop!" Toni panicked, "they won't stop coming after you and, well, if you want my advice? Run."
"We're not running." Uncle Dean huffed.
"Then you die."
"Or," Dad said sternly, "we fight."