A Sister's News
Got this idea by reading Cordelia Winchester
. It's a good read, you guys should check it out.
Growing up in Sunnydale, even before she knew about the bumps in the night, Cordelia had always prepared for the worst. Someone else having the audacity to wear the same outfit as her? Make them feel so insecure about how they look in it, they have to either borrow a friend's jacket or go home to change. No date Friday night? Easy, just go to The Bronze and dance near the hottest college boy in sight. Even after she learned about vampires, ghosts, and werewolves, Cordelia had adapted. Can't get the demon blood out of the Gucci dress? Just tell Daddy that some geek spilled something on her in chem lab. Break the heel of your Jimmy Choo's while running away from a horde of vampires? Tell Daddy she broke it slamming it on a football player's foot when he came on too strong.
Then the unthinkable happened. Her father lost everything. And that meant everything
. The IRS took all their money, repossessed their house, cars, and even sent her father to jail for at least five years. Cordelia found herself no longer caring about those superficial things. Well, at least not as much anyways. Now her worries turned to; could she afford to stay in a hotel until graduation? How would she pay for her prom dress? What would happen when people at school found out about her newly found poverty?
Just when Cordelia didn't think it could get any worse, her mother pulled her to the side and confessed something to her. Apparently, Richard Chase was not Cordelia's real father. The month she was conceived, her parents had traveled to the other side of the country for her father's business. He had been so busy with work, he never even noticed when Daphne, Cordelia's mother, had disappeared for three nights. Daphne would forever describe those first two nights as the most horrid of her life. She still wasn't sure what happened.
Cordelia had quickly determined that her mother had been attacked by a demon.
Either way, her father, or biological father anyway, had rescued her somehow. Their was a chemistry, gratitude, a dirty hotel room, and some more details Cordelia had to physically stop her mother from telling her.
Bottom line: Richard Chase – not Cordelia's father.
The last thing her mother told her, before abandoning her in a cheap motel so she could go stay with her current gentleman caller, was a name; John Winchester.
Without thinking, Cordelia had enlisted the help of Oz in finding her father. Making him swear, on his life, he would not divulge this information to Willow or the rest of the Scooby gang, including Wesley. Honestly, she had been surprised with how easily the devoted werewolf had agreed to it. And though she wouldn't have thought it at first glance, Oz was definitely perfect for Willow. He was as much of a geek as she was. He found her father in no time. Well, his phone number at least. No address was listed.
Cordelia was then faced with one of the toughest decisions in her young life. Should she call and inform him of the daughter he never knew about? Would he want her? Would he come for her?
A scoff and an eye roll was all Cordelia could do to answer her own questions. What'd she think? That he would come driving to Sunnydale, California, in a Porsche, whisk her out of this poverty and give her the comfortable life she always knew? Most likely not.
So for months, she put off calling him. She had a great time at prom, surprising considering she technically had no date, but Wesley had been more than willing to fix that little complication for her.
Then her graduation ceremony came. She staked a vampire, and though it wasn't the first one she had ever staked, it was the first one she had staked alone. The giant mayor snake had been blown up along with her school and as she stared at the aftermath with the Scoobies, Cordelia's thoughts were not on the years of terror experienced at that place, or the struggle to get good grades, but her father. Her real father. So much he had missed. So much she had missed.
That small moment of silence Oz asked them all to take had been loud with questions concerning her father; Did he have other children? Did she have brothers or sisters? Was he married now? Was he married then? Was he a good man who would accepte her into his family with open arms? Would he reject her, finding her to be a blemish on his “spotless” record? But the most important one of all hit her just before they all left; Would he like her?
That night, as Cordelia threw her graduation gown on her hotel bed, she stared hesitantly at the phone. She knew she had to. She couldn't just leave these questions unanswered. One call. One call was all it took. If he didn't answer, she'd leave a message. And if he didn't call her back...
If he didn't call her back, she wouldn't try again.
Just one call.
It was the most harrowing experience of her life. She was kind of disappointed and somewhat relieved when she got his voice mail. She flushed and tried to calm her heart when the beep went off. The message she left wasn't the most professional or the most confident. She stumbled over her words, she even, dare say, stuttered. By the time she hung up, she was almost embarrassed with the way she left the message. But what's done is done.
It was just one call.
He was working on the car.
Ever since their dad died, that's all Dean ever did. He refused to talk about it. The word 'dad' was suddenly taboo. No one could blame Sam for worrying about his brother. All the time that went into searching for the man, only for him to die at the end... Sam shook himself out of it.
He glanced down at the cell phone in hand. Sam was torn.
After weeks of trying to crack the code for his father's voice mail, he'd finally figured it out. Surprisingly enough, it wasn't any of the types of codes John usually used. Sam, who had been tired and was gaining a pretty decent sized headache, decided to take a random stab. This was a personal code. The code had ended up being the address to their old house in Lawrence. It was so... not like him. There were two messages left on the phone. One was four months old. Some lady named Ellen. The other one...
The other one was over a year old and had some pretty shocking news.
Sam took in a deep breath and approached Dean, who was hiding under the car. Again.
It had been hard to start any type of conversation with him for the past few weeks, so he opened with the question he knew would get answered: “How's the car comin' along?”
The one word answer did little to lift his spirits.
“Yeah?” He looked around awkwardly, unsure of what to say. He knew what the answer would be, it had been the same answer every day for the past few weeks, but he asked anyway. “Need any help?”
There was a loud bang as Dean took something off the car and let it fall to the floor. “What? You under a hood?” And though it was obviously a joke, there was a hint of seriousness in his tone. “I'll pass.”
Sam bit his tongue and nodded to himself. His brother still stayed hidden under the car. He knew the best way to get on his brother's nerves, and so help him, he couldn't stop the question from leaving his mouth, “Need anything else then?”
Sure enough, his brother slid out from under the car in one swift motion. Dean only glanced at Sam. “Stop it, Sam.” He pushed himself off the floor and onto his feet.
“Stop what?” Sam asked innocently. Sure, he knew what his brother wanted him to stop, but like hell he'd show it.
“Stop asking if I need anything, stop asking if I'm OK.” The irritation laced in his voice was obvious. To try and rectify his tone, he quickly added, “I'm OK,” for Sam's benefit if nothing else. He even looked back at his brother to help. “Really. I promise.”
“Alright,” Sam relented. “Dean, it's just...” Sam decided to hell with it and said it as quickly as he could, “we've been at Bobby's for over a week now and you haven't brought up Dad once.”
Dean stopped and looked at him for a moment. “You know what, you're right,” he said before resorting to true Dean fashion. “C'mere. I'm gonna lay my head gently on your shoulder and maybe we can cry, hug, and maybe even slow dance.”
“Don't patronize me, Dean. Dad is dead!” He added that last part with little thought. Of course Dean knew their dad was dead. He was there. “The colt is gone,” he continued on, as if he hadn't wanted to stop there in the first place, “and it seems pretty damn likely that the demon is behind all of this and you're acting like nothing happened!”
“What do you want me to say?”
, alright! God- say anything! Aren't you angry? Don't you want revenge?!” Sam wanted revenge. He could taste it. This demon got rid of their mother and now they were just gonna let him get away with killing their father? “But all you do is sit out here all day long, buried underneath this damn car!”
“Revenge, huh?” Dean asked calmly.
“Sounds good.” And in all honesty it did. But Dean knew better. Even though he would love just as much as Sam to go down and put an end to ol' yellow eyes, he knew better. “Got any leads on where the demon is? Are you makin’ heads or tails of any of Dad’s research? ‘Cause I sure ain’t. But you know what, when we do finally find it-” He paused as if realizing something, though it was obviously an act. “Oh no, wait, like you said, the Colt’s gone. But I’m sure you’ve figured out another way to kill it.” Dean looked at his brother seriously. “We’ve got nothin’, Sam,” he stated. “Nothin’, okay? So you know what the only thing I can do is? I can work on the car.”
Dean turned to go back to work on the car. The work Sam was distracting him from.
“Well, we’ve got somethin’, all right?” Sam finally confessed. “That’s what I came out here to tell you.” He took his dad's cell phone out of his pocket and began punching in the code. “It’s one of Dad’s old phones. It took me a while, but I cracked his voice mail code. Listen to this.” he handed the phone to his brother, knowing full well which voice message he'd hear first.
Sure enough, Dean placed the phone to his ear and listened to the voice on the other end:John, it’s Ellen…again. Look, don’t be stubborn. You know I can help you. Call me.
Dean started to hand the phone back to Sam but he shook his head. “There's more.”
Surprised, Dean quickly placed the phone back to his ear.
What he got was not what he was expecting.Hey! I guess you're not in... um... This is Cordelia Chase. You don't know me, b-but you knew my mother! Her name was Daphne Chase? You two met in Maryland. You-uh... you saved her life. I'm not sure if that helps refresh your memory at all since it was about nineteen years ago... L-look, this is awkward. I don't expect anything at all, but I just thought you should know... I-I only just found out not too long ago... Apparently your guys's little excursion resulted in more than just a one night stand... she got pregnant... With me. I guess what I'm trying to say is; I'm your daughter. Um, yeah... I just thought you should know... I-I live in Sunnydale, California now, but I'm actually moving to Los Angeles in a couple of days. In case you... yeah... I gotta go.
Dean looked up at Sam with wide eyes. “What the hell is this?”
Sam stuffed his hands in his pockets and looked at Dean to try and calculate his response. “Apparently it's a message from our sister.”
“Our sister?!” Dean snapped. “You expect me to believe this mumbo jumbo?” He practically threw the phone at Sam, who caught it against his chest. “Who ever this chick is, she's got something up her sleeve.” A look of realization came across Dean's face. “It's a trap. For Dad,” he said as if there was nothing else to it. “That's gotta be it.”
“Really, Dean?” Sam questioned, slipping the phone back into his pocket. “Because that message is over a year old?”
“So?” Sam took a step towards his brother, ignoring the scowl on his face. “So why would Dad keep a message saved
in his phone for over a year?! You know damn well that once Dad gets a message, he deletes it. He only needed to hear 'em once.”
“Dean!” Sam interrupted. “Think about it!” Dean stared at Sam quietly, waiting for his brother to continue. “After mom died-”
“Aw, Sam!” Dean turned around and faced his car.
“-after she died, it's not like Dad became a saint.” Slowly Dean turned back towards Sam, still refusing to look him in the eye. “A one night stand is all it takes.” Sam stared at his brother relentlessly. “Dean... we very well might have a sister out there.”
Dean turned back towards Sam, his hands placed firmly on his hips. “And?”
“And?” Sam was confused. “What do you mean 'and?'”
“What I mean is, say you're right,” he conceded. “Say we do have a sister out there. What are we gonna do? Go in and bust every thing she ever believed in? Bring her demon huntin' 'cross the country with us?” Dean shook his head. “I bet you Dad didn't even get in touch with her. Probably checked out her story and that was it. Why ruin another of his kid's life?”
“Is that what you think Dad did?” Sam asked in surprise. Since when had Dean hated demon hunting?
“Course not!” Dean glared at his little brother. “But think about it. Dad didn't have a choice with us, Sammy! When he figured out what was out there, he had to either bring us along or give us up! And he had already lost too much. He had a choice with her. She'd gotten this far without him, why would she need him now?”
“But aren't you curious?” Sam questioned quietly, almost defeated. He pulled the phone back out of his pocket and gazed at it for a moment. “I mean, Dean...” He looked back up at his brother with a somber expression. “We could have a sister
Dean sighed tiredly and ran his hands through his hair...
Their father just died and now little Sammy's found a new puppy to fill the gap...
“What about the other message?”
The sudden subject change threw Sam off guard. “What?”
“The other message! How old is it?”
“Uhm... four months,” Sam managed to answer. “But, Dean, what about...?”
“I'll think about!” He snapped angrily. “Who's Ellen? Any mention of her in Dad's journal?”