Sam welcomed his newfound sister with open arms, a warm smile on his face. If he was feeling weirded out about it, it didn't show, but Sam had always had better people skills than his older brother, who was hiding somewhere inside with his nose buried in a book and a bottle of beer. He knew Dean would come around eventually in his own time and that forcing the issue would only drive him further away. The hug he gave Ayden was warm and brotherly and sincere, towering over the girl, like a giant. Though he'd only just met her, he felt a connection with her already, having spent the better part of three hours on the phone with her, listening to her story and trying to keep her calm until Bobby arrived.
"I'm Sam," he told her as he gave her a hug, instinctively wrapping an arm around her shoulders as he turned them both toward the woman in the wheelchair who was waiting nearby. "This is Ellen, Bobby's wife, and sort of our foster mother." Dean was visibly missing from the little family reunion, and Bobby had mumbled some excuse about the truck needing oil before wandering off toward the garage.
Ayden was still weepy when Bobby pulled up in front of the house he said was his, her face blotched and reddened and marred with tear-tracks. Everything had happened so fast - too fast for her to grab hold and make sense of - and it had left her shaken and reeling. She felt very small, very vulnerable, as she climbed out of the car, her duffle hanging heavily from her shoulder on the short walk up onto the porch.
But the welcome that awaited her from the tall man there was a relief, and Sam might well have been surprised by how trustingly his new-found little sister tucked herself under his hugging arm, scrubbing at her face in an attempt to wipe the tears away. "Hi," she managed in a soft voice, turned to look at the woman who was introduced as Ellen. "Thank you for letting me come here, Mrs Singer."
Ellen had insisted on waiting on the porch with Sam when the call had come through that Bobby was close to home. Dean was being difficult, which was only natural, but some things were more important than others. Making sure this little girl felt welcomed was more important right now than soothing Dean's misplaced sense of guilt. She offered a smile to the girl tucked close to Sam, proud of the younger Winchester for setting his personal confusions aside so well. "Never any thought you'd be staying away," she told Ayden warmly, turning her wheels with practised expertise to begin the task of leading brother and sister into the house. "It's not the Ivy, but it'll do. You're safe here, with your brothers."
Sam smiled, knowing the latest arrival was about to get her first scolding from Ellen, when she insisted the girl not address her so formally, if she continued that way. He couldn't help but notice she'd been crying, evidence of the emotional upheaval she must be feeling at the shock of the day. He knew it wasn't easy, even for those who were used to dealing with weird on a daily basis. He secretly wished Dean would get his head out of his a$$ and come greet her, like the big brother he was, but he hoped he'd come around in time. "Dean's inside," he explained, hoping she wouldn't ask why John Winchester's eldest wasn't as welcoming as his younger son, reaching to relieve her of the duffle that hung from her shoulder. "Are you hungry' Thirsty' Is there anything I can get you?"
Ayden nodded, a little shy of these strangers who were family in their own unique ways. "Is - is he okay?" she heard herself ask Sam, worried that the answer would be negative and the reason would be her. "He didn't sound ....Well, obviously, he's not happy, I mean, Dad didn't tell you guys about me at all. Which is bad - Oh!" As Sam took the duffle from her shoulder, she realised what Ellen was doing, lurching out from under her brother's arm to help pull the screen door open. "Let me get that for you, Mrs Singer."
"Girl, you call me that one more time, and I'll turn you over my knee, wheels or not," Ellen threatened with a laugh, albeit grateful for the assistance as she manuevered herself into the house. "And don't think I can't. I've got three men in this house who'll do anything I ask." She flashed Sam a grin. "I have control of the kitchen."
Sam huffed, a small chuckle escaping him at Ellen's remark. "Don't let her fool you. She has control of more than just the kitchen. We all know who wears the pants around here." Sam shouldered the duffle effortlessly, as if it weighed nothing at all. Dean often accused him of not only growing up, but overgrowing up. Sam shrugged as he circled back to the question regarding Dean, tossing a knowing and slightly worried glance at Ellen. "Dean's Dean. He'll come around in time."
Ellen caught that glance and offered Sam a very faint shrug in return. Dean would come around, but until he did, he was going to have the three people he loved most in the world poking and prodding to make sure he wasn't going in the other direction. She wheeled herself into the study, leaving Ayden with Sam in the hallway, clearly audible as she addressed the elder Winchester brother. "Get your nose out of that book and say hello to your guest before I run you down, kiddo."
Ayden glanced between the departing Ellen and Sam, her face crumpled in worried concern. "I don't want to be any trouble," she told Sam unhappily. "I just - I didn't know who else I could call. It's not like I can tell my neighbors that there are angels after me." She broke off, hearing Ellen's greeting to Dean, and her head dropped forward, one hand rubbing at her eyes once again. John Winchester's silence had dropped them all in a mess, and one it seemed she wasn't welcome to stir, at least as far as her eldest brother was concerned.
Sam offered yet another reassuring smile, seeming to be the more reasonable of the two brothers. Who'd ever guess at the anger that was seething just beneath the surface, or the horrible things he was capable of doing when jacked up on demon blood. To Ayden, to everyone around him, he often seemed like the voice of reason, but Dean knew better. Dean knew Sam was the most dangerous of them all. It was his secret, given to him by his father, and shared with no one, but Sam.
"You did the right thing, Ayden. You're safe here. Promise." Sam swung his gaze toward the study where Ellen was trying to coax Dean into making an appearance, like Punxsutawney Phil on Groundhog Day. "Guest room?" he asked, uncertainly, adjusting the duffle against his shoulder.
Dean lifted his head, three empty beer bottles and a pile of opened books spread out on the desk in front of him. The look he gave Ellen was reminiscent of his childhood, pouting like a boy who'd just been scolded and told to go to bed without supper. He knew better than to argue with Ellen, however, and tucked an empty Snickers wrapper inside one of the books to mark his page. "She here?" he asked, glancing toward the door and the voices coming from the other room, one distinctly Sam's and the other distinctly feminine, young, and scared.
Ellen held Dean's gaze with a level one of her own, even as Sam called through the doorway to her. She didn't break that contact as she answered the younger brother. "End of the hallway, blue room with the bay," she told Sam, one brow rising in the face of Dean's apparently impassive reaction to the fact that his sister had arrived. She waited until the footsteps had risen to the top of the stairs before speaking directly to Dean. "She has a name. Use it."
Sam offered Ayden another reassuring smile. "Come on. I'll show you to your room. It's the best room in the house." Up the stairs he went, on their way to the room that would be hers for the foreseeable future.
"I'm Sam," he told her as he gave her a hug, instinctively wrapping an arm around her shoulders as he turned them both toward the woman in the wheelchair who was waiting nearby. "This is Ellen, Bobby's wife, and sort of our foster mother." Dean was visibly missing from the little family reunion, and Bobby had mumbled some excuse about the truck needing oil before wandering off toward the garage.
Ayden was still weepy when Bobby pulled up in front of the house he said was his, her face blotched and reddened and marred with tear-tracks. Everything had happened so fast - too fast for her to grab hold and make sense of - and it had left her shaken and reeling. She felt very small, very vulnerable, as she climbed out of the car, her duffle hanging heavily from her shoulder on the short walk up onto the porch.
But the welcome that awaited her from the tall man there was a relief, and Sam might well have been surprised by how trustingly his new-found little sister tucked herself under his hugging arm, scrubbing at her face in an attempt to wipe the tears away. "Hi," she managed in a soft voice, turned to look at the woman who was introduced as Ellen. "Thank you for letting me come here, Mrs Singer."
Ellen had insisted on waiting on the porch with Sam when the call had come through that Bobby was close to home. Dean was being difficult, which was only natural, but some things were more important than others. Making sure this little girl felt welcomed was more important right now than soothing Dean's misplaced sense of guilt. She offered a smile to the girl tucked close to Sam, proud of the younger Winchester for setting his personal confusions aside so well. "Never any thought you'd be staying away," she told Ayden warmly, turning her wheels with practised expertise to begin the task of leading brother and sister into the house. "It's not the Ivy, but it'll do. You're safe here, with your brothers."
Sam smiled, knowing the latest arrival was about to get her first scolding from Ellen, when she insisted the girl not address her so formally, if she continued that way. He couldn't help but notice she'd been crying, evidence of the emotional upheaval she must be feeling at the shock of the day. He knew it wasn't easy, even for those who were used to dealing with weird on a daily basis. He secretly wished Dean would get his head out of his a$$ and come greet her, like the big brother he was, but he hoped he'd come around in time. "Dean's inside," he explained, hoping she wouldn't ask why John Winchester's eldest wasn't as welcoming as his younger son, reaching to relieve her of the duffle that hung from her shoulder. "Are you hungry' Thirsty' Is there anything I can get you?"
Ayden nodded, a little shy of these strangers who were family in their own unique ways. "Is - is he okay?" she heard herself ask Sam, worried that the answer would be negative and the reason would be her. "He didn't sound ....Well, obviously, he's not happy, I mean, Dad didn't tell you guys about me at all. Which is bad - Oh!" As Sam took the duffle from her shoulder, she realised what Ellen was doing, lurching out from under her brother's arm to help pull the screen door open. "Let me get that for you, Mrs Singer."
"Girl, you call me that one more time, and I'll turn you over my knee, wheels or not," Ellen threatened with a laugh, albeit grateful for the assistance as she manuevered herself into the house. "And don't think I can't. I've got three men in this house who'll do anything I ask." She flashed Sam a grin. "I have control of the kitchen."
Sam huffed, a small chuckle escaping him at Ellen's remark. "Don't let her fool you. She has control of more than just the kitchen. We all know who wears the pants around here." Sam shouldered the duffle effortlessly, as if it weighed nothing at all. Dean often accused him of not only growing up, but overgrowing up. Sam shrugged as he circled back to the question regarding Dean, tossing a knowing and slightly worried glance at Ellen. "Dean's Dean. He'll come around in time."
Ellen caught that glance and offered Sam a very faint shrug in return. Dean would come around, but until he did, he was going to have the three people he loved most in the world poking and prodding to make sure he wasn't going in the other direction. She wheeled herself into the study, leaving Ayden with Sam in the hallway, clearly audible as she addressed the elder Winchester brother. "Get your nose out of that book and say hello to your guest before I run you down, kiddo."
Ayden glanced between the departing Ellen and Sam, her face crumpled in worried concern. "I don't want to be any trouble," she told Sam unhappily. "I just - I didn't know who else I could call. It's not like I can tell my neighbors that there are angels after me." She broke off, hearing Ellen's greeting to Dean, and her head dropped forward, one hand rubbing at her eyes once again. John Winchester's silence had dropped them all in a mess, and one it seemed she wasn't welcome to stir, at least as far as her eldest brother was concerned.
Sam offered yet another reassuring smile, seeming to be the more reasonable of the two brothers. Who'd ever guess at the anger that was seething just beneath the surface, or the horrible things he was capable of doing when jacked up on demon blood. To Ayden, to everyone around him, he often seemed like the voice of reason, but Dean knew better. Dean knew Sam was the most dangerous of them all. It was his secret, given to him by his father, and shared with no one, but Sam.
"You did the right thing, Ayden. You're safe here. Promise." Sam swung his gaze toward the study where Ellen was trying to coax Dean into making an appearance, like Punxsutawney Phil on Groundhog Day. "Guest room?" he asked, uncertainly, adjusting the duffle against his shoulder.
Dean lifted his head, three empty beer bottles and a pile of opened books spread out on the desk in front of him. The look he gave Ellen was reminiscent of his childhood, pouting like a boy who'd just been scolded and told to go to bed without supper. He knew better than to argue with Ellen, however, and tucked an empty Snickers wrapper inside one of the books to mark his page. "She here?" he asked, glancing toward the door and the voices coming from the other room, one distinctly Sam's and the other distinctly feminine, young, and scared.
Ellen held Dean's gaze with a level one of her own, even as Sam called through the doorway to her. She didn't break that contact as she answered the younger brother. "End of the hallway, blue room with the bay," she told Sam, one brow rising in the face of Dean's apparently impassive reaction to the fact that his sister had arrived. She waited until the footsteps had risen to the top of the stairs before speaking directly to Dean. "She has a name. Use it."
Sam offered Ayden another reassuring smile. "Come on. I'll show you to your room. It's the best room in the house." Up the stairs he went, on their way to the room that would be hers for the foreseeable future.