The Glass Braid, a tale of the supernatural
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He always felt the loser no matter how their arguments ended. It was the same with Sam. The boy had been furious, pissed the rougarou attacked during daylight. He rehashed their previous argument from the night before, pointing out flaws in his father's logic, laying ground for his closing statement. It was the moment when John was suppose to cave, cop to being a stubborn bastard.
A better man might have. The man he used to be. He did it often with Mary, bowed to her amazing insight and audacity to disagree with him. They'd quietly discuss it at dinner, laugh unabashedly about it while listening to old, scratchy BB King recordings and then forget it completely at their bedroom door.
But that was before John lost his ability to rationalize, to accept defeat. There was no room for concession or retreat in battle even for those he loved most. John's life was now war. And war was ugly and bloody. He didn't have the luxury of intimate chats over heartfelt meals, good blues or pleasures of the flesh that made a man's life worth living. All John had was his boys. And most days he could see nothing beyond that. He blamed the unfairness of it all for lashing back at Sam, for getting in his face, shaking him so hard he was sure he had felt the kid's teeth rattle.
Then Dean was there, stepping in between, telling them to cool off. His eldest barked orders to Sam about getting salt before turning a fiery gaze on John. That boy of his was damn smart. John took another long drink of the bottled fire, wincing as it washed away more guilt and regret. He glanced up at the dark windows, sensing movement; but all he caught sight of was his own sad likeness. He barely recognized it. Losing faith and hope was dangerous. It left pock-mocks in your soul. Dangerous, deep fissures waiting to be filled by other things not so nice.
Things like grief, anger, rage and vengeance. Emotions brought in with the red tide of loss. John was full of these demons.
Instead of offering a buffer like hope, buoying him like faith, they drug him down. Sunk him to a level where he could punish his son for insubordination instead of conceding his faithlessness. The knock on the door turned him from his shattered reflection; anger flaring that Dean had stayed out so late and forgotten his fucking key. He'd have to have words with that son of his. You said you would be here tomorrow. Caleb had made his way to the table where he reached out and lifted the half-empty bottle of whiskey.
John was in front of him in two steps, plucked the alcohol from the younger hunter's hand. He'd seen that disappointed look before. It was amazing that Caleb could so resemble Mackland Ames when there was no shared blood between them. Caleb stepped into the man's personal space. Send me to the brig? Sam's voice stopped John from replying. Both men turned to find the lanky teen leaning in the breezeway that led to the tiny living room. The teen snorted and moved around the two to make his way towards the refrigerator in the corner.
Caleb glanced at him and the kid smirked. He was tired of the insubordination. This was one of those nights when he regretted sparing the rod. Sam took out the milk and moved to the counter to grab a glass. There was no doubt of that.
Jodi Picoult
From the moment the scruffy, cocky thirteen-year-old was placed in his somewhat forced tutelage, a soft spot formed. Over the years he watched the kid become a man and warrior; his affection grew along with his pride in having a hand in the process. Jim Murphy had known what he was doing. They didn't call him Merlin for nothing. John knew he was almost as responsible for the person Caleb Reaves was as Mackland. As much as that pleased him; it could also come back to bite him in the ass. Caleb could bestubborn and confrontational when backed in a corner.
Sometimes his 'frogginess' forced him to jump out of the frying pan before he had a good mind as to the fire raging around him. Hewas fearless and loyal when it came to John's sons. It was a strength John cultivated as well as a flaw he manipulated when it suited his purposes. The hairs on the back of John's neck stood at attention at the blatant disrespect, his blood pressure inched up.
John had never struck one of his own children in anger. It was probably the only thing saving Caleb at the moment. You almost got him killed tonight. He would never make such a mistake. Not with his children. There would have been blood. Dean would have reported to him. If their victims aren't treated…". He met the teen's fearful gaze. John ran his hands through his hair. He knew better than to pull something so juvenile and idiotic not to mention…".
His whole life you've pushed him aside for the ongoing battle with everything evil and now you have this war with Sam. Sometimes it's easier to blend into the surroundings than get pulled apart in the thick of things. But even as John focused his anger and outrage on Caleb, he felt the ache of self recrimination.
Jim was fond of saying the only thing that ended up getting hurt when two elephants fought was the grass. Was Dean being trampled in the wake of his and Sam's head butting? He might have been a shitty parent; but he was still Dean's father. John had his hands in the younger hunter's shirt before a conscious thought entered his mind. He slammed Caleb against the wall. There was no flash of fear or surprise, but John read the disappointment and mixture of hurt easily enough. Caleb could pull off a 'fuck you' attitude; unless you knew him.
He and Dean were a lot a like in that way. If one was aware, all it took was a hard look in their eyes and you knew what was really going on beneath the tough veneer. John shook his head. He'd already done enough damage to his family for one day. He let go of Caleb's shirt, put some distance between them before he spoke again.
That poison gets in the bloodstream and…" It was almost as deadly as a bite from a zombie. And to know just how badly he messed up. Caleb didn't keep quiet when it came to his concerns about Dean.
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He with him now? The anger was back in the gold gaze. Caleb stepped forward, but John's glare halted him. I screwed up, but I'm still The Knight, and you better start showing me some fucking respect. John rolled his eyes. He never used his knightly position, and should have expected an older Caleb would show his smart ass side. First thing in the morning. Buzz said he needs to rest a few days. John clenched his jaw.
Charlie's heartbeat increased even further at the thought of having to talk to the whole class, She shook her head and Miss Golding, noticing the look of terror on the little girls face gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze and said 'That's ok. Finaly woke from the dream. You'll do just fine. Cassidy and I stop, and we cannot move. His score features a glass harmonica , and the Yale Women's Slavic Chorus. Passing the dry fishpond, a pool of blackness through the moonlight was splashed brightly over the surrounding grass and weeds, the girl was sure she saw pale shapes curling and gliding in the shadows—the ghost koi? Charlie decided she quite liked her so far.
Tried to remember every calming technique Mackland had so politely suggested to him over the years. Killing Caleb wasn't an option. John let him go. He was too tired to continue their battle; too grateful Dean was alright. He felt Sam's angry gaze on him, the weight of it staggering.
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Take care of your brother. The boy moved passed him in a huff, slamming the door in his wake. The sound was as final and resolute as a gun shot. John made his way back to the table where his old friend Jim Bean was waiting. The burn of the bitter whiskey was welcomed. Sam wanted to scream at his father. I told you about the rougarou. I told you someone was going to get hurt. It was the same argument Sam had waged with his father for months.
Their luck was going to run out. John's obsession to kill more and more things evil was growing.
Sooner or later his father would slip up, and the rest of their family would be lost. Dean could be lost. The idea of it haunted Sam's dreams. Left him living in constant fear. He was so tired of being afraid. For just a little while, he'd like to live in the blessed ignorance normal people survived in. The teen watched Reaves as he stopped at the front of his Jeep. He rested his hand on the hood.
The answer was quick and sharp, leaving no room for further inquiry. Sam didn't believe it for a minute. He understood all too well the feeling one walked away with after doing battle with John Winchester. Especially if you loved the bastard. The hint of anger directed at him didn't surprise Sam as much as it grated on his already frayed defenses. He was used to anger. In fact he fed off of it.
Sam felt the overwhelming need to lash out at what he perceived as an accusing tone. It didn't hold water. Sam was finally seeing things as an adult. Sam shook his head. He wanted some breathing room. Caleb should have understood. It pissed him off he didn't. He won't listen to anything I say about the man. The psychic took a threatening step forward, pointed a finger at Sam. I have a mind of my own. And in case you haven't noticed, I'm trying to protect him too.
Blindly following Dad's orders is going to get him killed. Is that what you want? He understood it to be one of Caleb's biggest fears. He'd watched his father use it over the years to bend the psychic to his will. Just like John used Sam to keep Dean in line. Sam refused to let his father wield that kind of power over him. I've been fighting this particular battle a whole lot longer than you have. I get where you're coming from but you've got to stop dragging Dean in the middle.
Because from where I'm sitting, you have no fucking clue. You may have to endure John Winchester's wrath on occasion…but you get to leave. You don't live with it day in and day out. You went to college. Don't try to pretend you understand me or that we have some kind of bond because you've had to deal with Dad on some miniscule level. A myriad of emotions raced across Reaves's face and Sam realized he wasn't yelling at his brother or his father. Sam had never argued with Caleb, not in any kind of hostile manner.
Sure they had sibling-like squabbles; but honestly Reaves, like Dean, mostly brushed Sam's tirades off with a roll of his eyes and an infuriating head rub. But this look was different. Sam took a step back. You have a brother who would rather die than cause you any undo pain. You had years of shielding from the fucking monster that lurks in the dark. He grabbed hold of Sam's shirt, gave him a hard shake. Because we've marked time together. Because I've been there for you more times than I can count. Sam blinked, his chest clenched.
He had stepped across the line in needing to get his point across. He just wanted someone to hear him, sometimes resulting in drawing blood to get attention. It happened a lot lately. The teen swallowed hard, bit his lip to keep from tearing up. Caleb seemed to deflate and for once Sam felt as if he might have said exactly what he was feeling in exactly the right way. Like when you, me, and Dean were kids. In his heart he knew it was true, even though it hurt to admit it. It was all an illusion, an elaborate play his brother, father, Jim Murphy and the others put on for him.
Sam watched him turn to go, unable to find any appropriate words to say to make him stay. He felt set adrift, alone in a tumultuous sea of his own emotions. In her room, Anna awakens to find him climbing into her window, saying that she needs to know the truth and that he had a warning from her mother. They kiss but then Anna notices Matt's body suddenly warping and his back breaking. Anna flees from the room in fear but when she opens the door, he is gone.
The next morning, Matt's dead body is pulled out of the water, his back broken. The police assume he fell and drowned. The sisters are unable to find a record of Rachel with the State Nursing Association and conclude she is actually Mildred Kemp, a nanny who killed the three children she looked after because she had an obsession with their widowed father. They try to warn their father, but he ignores their concerns and leaves for work.
The girls try to gather evidence against Rachel to show the police but Rachel catches them and sedates Alex. Anna escapes and goes to the local police station, but they do not believe her claims and call Rachel, who sedates Anna and takes her home.
As Rachel puts a disoriented Anna in bed, Anna sees Alex in the doorway with a knife and then passes out. She wakes to find that Alex has killed Rachel and thrown her body into a dumpster. As the girls comfort each other, a horrified Steven arrives and asks what happened. Anna explains that Rachel tried to murder her and her sister but Alex saved their lives by killing Rachel.
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Steven is confused; he explains that Alex died in the fire along with her mother. Anna then notices that she is not holding her sister's hand, but the bloody knife used to murder Rachel. Anna finally remembers what happened on the night of the fire. After catching her father and Rachel having sex, Anna became enraged and filled a watering can from a large gasoline tank in the boathouse, intending to set them and the house on fire. She did not close the tap properly and a trail of gasoline was ignited by a falling candle. Her mother and Alex were killed in the resulting explosion.
Flashbacks reveal that Anna had been hallucinating Alex since she left the institution. She remembers killing Matt—who did show up at their planned meeting—by letting him fall and break his back. She also remembers killing Rachel, who was surprisingly a kinder person than she had imagined. As the police arrest Anna for murder, Steven is questioned by an officer. He explains that Rachel changed her name years ago to escape an abusive boyfriend.
At the institution, Anna is welcomed back by the patient across the hall that scared her earlier; the name plate on her door reads "Mildred Kemp". In , producers Walter F. They subsequently produced the film's successful sequel The Ring Two in Theo and Leah went on a school bus as they lived in the next town over.
As soon as she heard the Impala's distinctive engine pulling up in the drop off zone, Charlie pointed out the black car to Miss Winters and she allowed her to leave. She came galloping down the stone steps as Dean got out of the car. Dean smiled as she barrelled towards him with a big smile on her face. After all her angst and doom and gloom over the school idea he had sincerely expected her to come out looking utterly miserable, but the opposite was clearly true.
The worst day ever…? So, it was a good idea to try it? Charlie tried to glare, but couldn't help a small smile as she clambered into the back seat and Dean slammed his door and started up the engine. Charlie chatted non-stop all the way back to the bunker about her new friends, about her teacher, about the easy math work they were doing and about her new and improved Goldilocks story, which had Dean laughing out loud. Normally Dean would have been weary of Charlie's endless chatter and breathe a sigh of relief on arriving in the garage of the bunker, but today he was just relieved that she was babbling.
Babbling meant that she was happy and that was more than he thought he could have hoped for that morning when she left. He wouldn't admit it to anyone, least of all Sam, but he hadn't been able to stop worrying about Charlie all day. Sam felt the same, but hadn't tried to hide it and Dean had distracted himself by pouring scorn on Sam's mother-hen act and his fussing over Charlie, not fooling Sam for one moment that he didn't feel exactly the same. Sam came to meet Charlie at the entrance of the garage, eager to find out how things had gone and see what kind of a mood she was in.
He was instantly gratified to see a cheerful smiling face greet him. How was it Honey? Did you like school? Charlie wriggled free so that she could carry on talking 'It was good Sammy, really good. My teacher is Miss Golding, she's really great. The work was okay, some of it was even fun. Theo is so cool and he is an expert on Star Wars, he has a twin sister called Leah and she's awesome too. They let me play with them at recess and sit with them and their friends at lunch, I think they might like me too.
He had been hoping her first day would be positive, but this was more than he had hoped for and he was beyond pleased that she loved it so much. Dean rolled his eyes. Charlie was just like Sam. Sam and Dean shared a grin over her head, acknowledging their shared relief that her first day had gone so well, before Dean realised he was dangerously close to a chick flick moment and he cleared his throat awkwardly and averted his gaze.
Sam just smiled indulgently and focussed on Charlie's science project. Just In All Stories: Story Story Writer Forum Community. Now she really is the little sister they never wanted. They try and find a way to get her back but when they discover it's not possible decide they will bring her up themselves. She is the cheeky handful you would imagine her to be. Contains spanking of a minor, so don't read if that's not your thing! Chapter 6 The day Charlie had been dreading finally dawned. It's time to get up. Sam smiled 'No can do Sweetheart, you have to get up and get ready for school.
Charlie just squeaked crossly and snuggled further down in her covers. She immediately rolled over and sat up 'Ow! Dean, that hurt and that was mean! Charlie folded her arms and glared at Dean 'I don't wanna go to school, I don't feel good.
Jodi Picoult · Second Glance
Not even hungry for French toast?! What if it's even worse than I think it's gonna be? Sam frowned 'I hope it's not all junk. This is my niece; Charlie Winchester. She's starting here today. How could they not love you?! No brothers or sisters? Only the old original movies though.
Chapter 1 A bunker life for 3 2. Chapter 2 - Little Charlie 3. Chapter 3 - Two men and a little lady 4. Chapter 4 - To school or not to school 5. Chapter 5 - Charlie's birthday 6. Chapter 6 - First day at school 7. The author would like to thank you for your continued support. Your review has been posted.