Fic: Never Say Die (7/16)

[briarwood]

Title: Never Say Die (7/16)
Fandom: Supernatural
Rating: Adults Only
Pairing: John/Ellen (see notes in Part 0)
Summary: After a hunt that went horribly wrong, John wakes up in a California hospital. It's thirteen years later, everyone he trusted seems to be dead, and he has no idea how to find his sons. Meanwhile, unknown to John, Dean's time is running out.
Warnings: Darkfic. Character death. Torture. (See notes in Part 0 for more details)
Spoilers: Up to Jus In Bello.
Previous chapters: archived here.
Note: Last chapter for this week, unless I can find time on the weekend. Enjoy!

---

NEVER SAY DIE

Part Seven

Sam cried out, sitting up in bed abruptly before he fully realised he was awake. His heart was pounding and he breathed hard, as if he was running for his life. He ran both hands through his hair and scrubbed at his eyes.

He was in bed. It was just a dream.

Sam blinked and recognised the old cabin. Automatically, he glanced over to the other bed. It was empty.

Where was Dean?

The terror of the nightmare was still with him, but it vanished under the onslaught of a far greater fear. Where was Dean? Was he...was he...gone? Did Dean slip away in the night, under some delusion that he was making this easier for Sam?

Sam shoved his blankets aside and hastily pulled on jeans and boots. He grabbed his shirt and didn't notice it was inside out as he buttoned it. He dashed to the door. "Dean!" he called.

Dean looked up, his eyes wide with surprise. He was sitting on the cabin steps, fully dressed and wearing his favourite leather jacket. If it were anyone but Dean, Sam would have thought he'd been enjoying the view.

The view from the cabin was magnificent: they overlooked a lake so deep and still it was a perfect mirror reflecting the Rockies beyond. There were red-tinged clouds hiding the highest peaks: the last remnants of what must have been a beautiful dawn.

Sam forced a smile. "Dude, are you watching the sunrise?" he teased.

Dean stood. "Your moaning was keeping me awake. More nightmares?"

Sam shrugged. "Yeah. I guess."

"Midgets or clowns?"

"Neither, but I don't really remember." Sam frowned, struggling to recall the dream, but it was gone. Fragments were all he could remember: pain and smoke, his father's voice and a gut-wrenching terror that had wakened him. Nothing that made sense...but dreams so rarely do make sense. "Are you okay?" he asked Dean.

"I ain't heard any Hell hounds, if that's what you mean."

Dean's casual words were like a knife in Sam's heart. He felt the blood drain from his face. "Crap, Dean!"

Dean came up the steps toward him. "It's time we talk about it, Sammy." He squeezed Sam's shoulder as he passed. It was their father's gesture; Sam wondered if Dean realised that.

Sam didn't want to have this conversation. He didn't want to say goodbye to Dean. He couldn't bear knowing that, despite everything, Dean was going to Hell. But he knew Dean was right. Reluctantly, he followed Dean into the cabin.

Dean wanted breakfast first. Neither of the brothers was much of a cook, but between them they managed to fry burgers and heat up tinned potatoes and spaghetti. Dean ate like he was starving; Sam could barely manage a mouthful.

Dean, his mouth full, asked "Are you gonna eat that?"

Sam shook his head and Dean took the plate from him.

Dean chased breakfast with whiskey. Sam didn't have the heart to give him shit for that, so instead he complained that Dean failed to buy bacon. Sam boiled water to make coffee and finally, started the conversation he'd been trying to avoid for a year.

"Dean, we can still..."

"No!" Dean interrupted emphatically. He swigged whiskey from the bottle.

Sam wasn't fooled. He knew how scared Dean was. It was there in every movement of his body, in the way he couldn't quite meet Sam's eyes, in his too-forced cheer.

"Why not?" Sam asked, though he already knew the answer.

"In the first place, it won't work." Dean offered Sam the whiskey bottle; Sam waved it away. Dean shrugged. "I can't be the first to sell my soul and regret it."

Sam leaned forward. "Do you regret it, Dean?" he asked hopefully. Maybe there was still a chance...

But Dean answered bluntly. "Not enough to risk you dyin'."

That, or variations on that theme, was Dean's stock response. Sam was sick of it. Oh, he understood it. He knew, perhaps more than Dean realised, that the only thing Dean feared more than Hell and all it entailed was ending up back where they were a year ago: with Sam dead and Dean alone. That was how this was supposed to end if they tried to break Dean's deal. Or, more likely, Sam would die and Dean would have to keep his part of the deal anyway. But what if it didn't work out that way? What if there was a chance?

"What makes you think," Sam demanded angrily, "that I can live without you any better than you managed without me?"

Dean met Sam's eyes then, his gaze steady. "I know you will, Sam, because you did before. Four years, remember?"

Sam got to his feet and stalked away from Dean, his boots thumping on the wooden floor. "That was different, Dean!"

"How?" Dean asked obtusely.

"Well, for starters I didn't have half the demons of Hell trying to kill me!" Sam yelled it at the top of his voice.

Dean recoiled. He actually physically backed off, raising his hands as if Sam had a gun on him.

It calmed Sam down. "Oh, God. Dean, I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

"Hey," Dean said. He was still watching Sam warily. "We survived this long, dude. You're gonna be okay."

Sam merely shrugged, because any answer he made would be a lie.

"Sam. Look at me, man."

Sam did.

"I want you to promise me you ain't gonna do anything stupid."

Sam snorted. "Stupid? You mean like make a deal of my own? I won't do that."

"I know you won't. But that ain't all you're thinkin', Sam. I mean it. No opening that gate in Wyoming. No...I dunno. No playin' with puzzle boxes."

Despite himself, Sam smiled. "That's just a movie, Dean."

"You know what I'm talking about," Dean insisted, with no trace of a smile. He was utterly serious.

"I...Dean, please." It was the only loophole the demon left them, and Dean was taking it away from Sam. Sam could lie: say "I promise" with his fingers crossed like a kid.

"Promise me!" Dean urged. "I know how you feel. I do. But I don't want you trying anything that'll let more demons out. It's bad enough already. Promise me, Sam."

I'm not going to get the chance, anyway. Sam nodded. "Alright. I promise. No gates, no puzzle boxes."

Sam moved to the window and gazed out over the picturesque landscape. It didn't matter. Sam would storm the gates of Hell for Dean's sake, but he didn't believe that was an option any more. Sam didn't believe he would live long enough to try.

Lilith was looking for him.

So far, they had escaped her three times, and each time purely by luck. The protections Sam built around the cabin meant they were safe as long as he remained inside. No demon could find him here. The protections wouldn't help Dean: his deal overrode the usual rules and the demon he owed could find him anywhere. But Sam was safe.

He was safe until Dean left him.

Then, Sam was going after Lilith himself.

He was tired of running, tired of leaving bodies behind him. He couldn't hole up and pray for rescue: that just wasn't Sam. So he was going to take the fight to her. Sam had no illusions he could best such a powerful demon. He would face her and die...but maybe he could take her with him.

Without Dean, he had nothing left to lose.

---

Ruby was surprisingly co-operative when John released her from the devil's trap. She didn't fight him or argue with his orders. John didn't believe he had broken her so easily. Taking no chances, he kept Ruby's demon-killing knife at her throat, holding her against his body as they walked to the Jeep where his friends waited.

They watched him approach: Bobby looked wary, Ellen worried. David he couldn't read yet: his expression was carefully blank, but John noticed David's eyes followed Ruby, not him.

"Bobby, I want a devil's trap on the roof of the Jeep," John announced as he reached them.

"You sure you want to do this, John?" Bobby asked. His look said it wasn't so much a question as a request: don't do this, John.

"Do I want to? No. But I'm doing it. Ruby here..." John pressed the knife into her skin, just enough for her to feel it, "...is going to be very co-operative."

Bobby's eyes narrowed, but he shrugged. "Okay." He opened the rear door of the Jeep and reached up to the roof.

"I can be more help to you if - " Ruby began to protest.

John silenced her with the knife. "Shut up. I'll tell you when you can be useful." He pushed the point of the blade into her neck, drawing a small bead of blood. "If you make trouble, sweetheart, I won't bother with exorcism. I'll just kill you. Understand?"

She hissed angrily, "Yes!"

"Good girl." John shoved her toward the Jeep. "Get in."

As Bobby climbed out of the car, Ruby got in and sat down. She looked at John, her expression pure hatred. He returned her look steadily. She would kill him, or worse, if he gave her the chance, but for now, he was the one in control. He looked at the devil's trap above her head. Bobby had placed a strip of tape on the roof of the Jeep and drawn the magical symbol over it. It meant they could easily break and re-seal the symbol. Nice work.

"You've dealt with her before," David said suddenly, "haven't you, John?"

"Why do you say that?" John asked sharply. David was uncomfortably intuitive...or perhaps it wasn't just a good guess. The man was a psychic; had he read John's mind?

"I know the look," David said with a smile. He met John's eyes seriously. "It's your decision, John, but are you sure your judgement is good on this?"

"I'll use whatever tools I must to save my son," John answered. He turned to Ellen, prepared for more argument.

Ellen simply shrugged. "I'm driving. Let's go."

John took the back seat beside the demon, with Bobby on his other side. If they couldn't handle Ruby between the two of them, no one could. David took his place as shotgun with Ellen driving.

They were running short of time. They needed to visit Denver first, where they would meet with Jo before going on to the mountains. John thought it an unnecessary delay, but he couldn't part Ellen from her daughter. There would be time.

David turned around to face him from the front seat as Ellen fired up the engine.

"The demons back there..." David began.

John nodded. "You warned me before they would try to stop us." He watched Ellen turn onto the road. She put her foot down, hard. John turned his attention back to David. "You think they'll try again?"

"It's inevitable. We have a deadline. All they need to do is slow us down."

John nodded grimly. He'd already thought of that.

"They only found you because you stopped," Ruby said.

John turned to her. "What do you mean?"

"Demons lie, John!" Ellen snapped, her eyes on the road.

"As if you'd know!" Ruby retorted.

"Quiet!" John ordered, meaning both of them. To Ruby, he added, "Don't talk to them. Only to me. Explain."

She gave him a hate-filled look, but she did answer. "I could find you, because I can find Bobby. But they can't. They don't know where you're going so they can only catch up with you when you stop somewhere."

"That's something," Bobby commented.

"It's a lie," David said firmly.

"I'm not lying!" Ruby declared.

David ignored her, addressing John. "Demons aren't omniscient and about the three who attacked us back there, she's right. But they were small fry, John. Some of them can find us, even on the move."

John got the point. "Still, if they could catch us on the road, they would have done it before. Denver is going to be our danger point. Once we keep the rendezvous with Jo we can drive non-stop until we reach the boys."

"Is it really necessary to stop for Jo?" David suggested.

"Yes!" Ellen answered sharply.

John agreed. "If Jo is in danger, we're all partly responsible." He watched the landscape outside the car, considering the problem. "Is there anyone in Denver we can go to? Hunters? Allies?"

"No one I know," Bobby said.

"Ellen?"

"Not since we lost Pascale."

"Then it'll have to be a motel. We get a room and hole up for a few hours. We've got protections. It should work."

"What about her?" Bobby nodded toward Ruby.

"Leave her to me," John answered.

Bobby gave him a very eloquent look. "I sure hope you know what you're doing."

So do I, Bobby. So do I.

---

Denver, Colorado

Ellen caught sight of Jo through the crowd and waved with relief. Jo was looking around her; she hadn't spotted Ellen yet. She looked good. Jo was wearing tight jeans and a white top that Ellen hadn't seen before: it had long, loose sleeves and was very low-cut at the neckline so that the lacy edge of her bra was visible. She was wearing a pendant: a piece of smoky quartz on a thong. That seemed out of place. Then Ellen noticed Jo wasn't carrying any baggage. Not even a purse.

Jo saw Ellen then, and smiled. She pushed her way through the crowd. Ellen moved toward her and they met in the middle of the airport concourse. Jo threw her arms around Ellen and clung to her.

Ellen held her daughter close. You're safe. Thank God you're safe. A hundred awful possibilities that haunted Ellen during the long drive made her hug Jo fiercely.

Jo pulled away. "Mom, are you okay? I've been so scared you were in danger."

"I'm fine, honey." Ellen kept one arm around Jo as she turned to Bobby. He was waiting patiently, apparently a little embarrassed by their open affection.

Jo smiled at him. "Hi, Uncle Bobby. Is one of you going to tell me what's going on?"

"When we get to the motel," Bobby answered her. He added, "It'll be quicker to show you."

"Sure. But everyone's okay, aren't they? I mean, Dean and Sam?"

"Why them, honey?" Ellen began to guide them toward the exit.

"Well, that weird IM I got mentioned John. So I assumed this has something to do with them."

"We haven't spoken to the boys," Bobby said. "You need to pick up your bags, Jo?"

She shook her head. "No. I left everything when Mom called and just got on a plane. She made it sound urgent."

There was, Ellen thought, a story there Jo wasn't telling. But she couldn't question her in the middle of such a crowd. The three of them walked in silence toward where Ellen had left the Jeep.

Once out of the airport, as they worked their way through rows of cars, Ellen asked Jo what happened to her. "Or, did something happen? After I called, I mean."

Jo looked unhappy. "You were right. There was a demon after me."

Ellen felt cold suddenly.

"What happened, Jo?" Bobby prompted.

Jo hung her head. "I had some holy water in my bag. I threw it at the demon and...and I ran." She looked truly miserable. "Some hunter, huh?"

"You did the right thing," Ellen assured her. She pointed to the next line of cars. "It's just over there."

"Your mom's right," Bobby agreed. "Jo, don't ever try to fight a demon on your own. Nor try for an exorcism unless you're prepared. Until you've got a lot more experience under your belt, run is exactly what you should do. Run. Unless you can't."

She smiled weakly. "Sam Winchester isn't much older than I am..."

"And their daddy trained those boys way too young," Bobby growled. "It ain't age, girl. It's experience."

"I was so scared," Jo confessed, "I...I guess I panicked. I headed straight for the airport without even going back for my stuff."

"That may have saved your life, sweetheart," Ellen said. She unlocked the Jeep.

Jo reached for the door but didn't open it. She stopped, frowning. "Mom, what is this? Why...?"

Ellen saw Bobby move up behind Jo, his expression darkening. He was reaching into his coat for the flask of holy water he always carried.

No. No, not my Jo!

"What's wrong, Jo?" Bobby asked her. His voice gave nothing away.

She looked confused. "I...I can't..."

She couldn't open the door. Because Bobby and John had drawn all kinds of protective symbols on the Jeep.

Bobby grabbed her from behind, pouring holy water down her front. Jo snarled, twisting in his hold, striking out even as smoke rose from her flesh everywhere the water touched her. Bobby avoided her blow but she was on him, clawing at his eyes.

"Jo!" Ellen shouted. But her brain and her body were ahead of her mouth. Ellen was inside the Jeep, reaching across into the back, shoving the door open. "Bobby!" she yelled.

Bobby was holding onto Jo's wrists, keeping her away from him. She'd drawn blood just beneath his eye. He muttered something in Latin and she screamed. With what looked like a superhuman effort, Bobby thrust Jo backward into the rear of the Jeep. Into the centre of the devil's trap he had drawn to hold Ruby.

She tried to attack him again and found herself trapped. "You son of a bitch!" she raged.

Ellen hung on to the steering wheel of the Jeep, listening to the demon in her daughter's body. She felt weak and helpless, so terribly helpless. Hot tears stung her eyes. She hadn't known. She was Jo's mother and she hadn't realised the person hugging her and smiling at her wasn't even her daughter.

Bobby's hand on her shoulder steadied her. "You okay, Ellen?"

She laughed shakily. "No. Jesus, no. I'm not okay."

Bobby looked grim. "This one is your decision, Ellen. I can do it now, or..."

"Or what?" Ellen demanded, but as she asked the question she realised what Bobby was suggesting. Or, rather, what Bobby was carefully not suggesting.

Bobby wanted to take Jo back to the motel. To John. He meant that John could torture her for information, as he had Ruby. Ellen didn't know what John did to Ruby: none of them watched it. But she had heard the interrogation. Could she bear to listen to her daughter scream like that?

It wasn't her daughter.

Ellen looked up at Bobby hopefully. "Is she... Is Jo okay?"

"There's no way to know, Ellen. The demon can't have been in there for long, so she could be fine." Bobby shook his head. "You need to decide, Ellen."

Ellen looked back over her shoulder to the demon. "No," she shuddered. "This has to be John's decision, not mine." She slid the key into the ignition. "Ride in back, Bobby. Keep her quiet for me...please?"

He nodded. "You got it."

"If you hurt my daughter, you bitch," Ellen said aloud, "I swear to God, I'll..."

The demon laughed. "You'll what? What will you do, mommy? What can you do?"

Ellen had no answer.

---

"You want to talk about it?" David offered. He was sitting on one of the motel room beds, idly flicking through the television channels.

John was at the window, turning Ruby's knife over in his hands as he watched, anxiously, for Ellen's return. "Talk about what?"

David jerked his head in Ruby's direction. "Whatever's between you two."

John turned away from the window to look at David. "I don't know you," he said bluntly. "Or trust you."

David nodded as if to say this wasn't news to him. "That's fair. Tell me anyway."

John looked at Ruby. She was sitting on a chair inside a ring of salt. She sat there silent, her arms crossed over her chest. She hadn't spoken a word since John put her there. Her co-operation, reluctant as it was, suggested she told him the truth that morning.

"We met," John admitted curtly. "In Hell."

"And?" David prompted.

"And that's all you need to know," John said. He heard the rumble of the Jeep's engine outside and went to the window, pushing the knife through his belt at he walked. He drew back the curtain, careful not to disturb the salt. "They're back."

Ellen parked close to the room, but oddly only Bobby got out of the Jeep. He saw John watching and beckoned. John frowned, then turned to David. "Watch her," he ordered.

"John, we've got a problem," Bobby said without preamble.

John looked past him to Ellen, then to Jo. Once glance at Jo answered all of his questions. He could see it in her, as clearly as he saw Ruby. Oh, shit.

"She's possessed."

"Yeah," Bobby agreed.

"Well, what are you waiting for? Let's take care of it!" John was moving as he spoke, hurrying around the Jeep to Ellen's side. He opened the door for her.

Ellen started to climb out of the Jeep, then stumbled and almost fell into John's arms. He caught her, realising it wasn't accidental. She was shaking and he wondered what it had taken for her to drive here with Jo in the back...like this.

John held her, letting her get herself under control. "Ellen, I'm sorry," he whispered against her cheek. He stroked her hair, looking past her to Jo. To the demon. It stared back at him with those awful black eyes.

Ellen drew back from him. "Help her, John," she pleaded.

John couldn't help thinking of Bill, who had been possessed at the end. Bill, who John killed. He looked around them. The road past the motel was busy: too many potential witnesses.

"We'd better get her inside," John suggested. "Ellen, let David know what's happening and break the salt line so we can get her in the room."

Ellen looked at her daughter, swallowed hard and looked back at John.

"We'll take care of her, Ellen," he promised.

"I know you will." Ellen nodded and headed to the room.

John turned to Bobby. He was still carrying Ruby's knife but this was Jo. Killing her wasn't an option. That meant he couldn't use the knife as a threat, either: with demons, you never make a threat you're not willing to follow through.

"You got holy water?"

Bobby nodded. "Plenty."

"Be ready." John opened the rear door of the Jeep. John reached above Jo's head and peeled the tape away from the roof, breaking the devil's trap. He was ready for the demon to try something, but she moved faster than he could have believed. John had no time to react.

Her hands closed around his neck. John staggered back, grabbing her wrists, trying to loosen her crushing grip. He fell backward deliberately, pulling her with him, dragging her out of the Jeep and giving Bobby a clear shot. John looked up into her face, seeing not Jo, but the demon within her. It was laughing, triumphant, but he didn't understand why.

John felt a needle of pain rip through his head and for a moment he saw Elkins' cabin in his mind: a summer day with the boys, still children, running down toward the blue lake. John choked out one word: "Bobby!"

"I know who you are, John Winchester!" the demon snarled.

John knew those words. Blind hatred overtook him and he groped for Ruby's knife.

Jo screamed. Black smoke poured from her mouth, surrounding John for a moment. Jo's scream cut off abruptly and all of the smoke was gone.

Jo collapsed on top of John. He felt something warm and wet between their bodies.

"Bobby, get Ellen!" John rolled from beneath the girl's body and gathered her into his arms. There was blood soaking through her white shirt and his clothing. Even as he watched, a gash opened across her pale breasts, and another down one cheek.

A thin trickle of blood came from between Jo's lips, but she was breathing. She was alive. She looked up at him as he held her, her brown eyes all pain and confusion. "John..." she whispered.

He supported her head with one hand, the way he would a baby. "Ssh," he said gently. "Don't talk. You'll be okay now." He knew it was a lie. Just as he'd lied to her father when he, too, lay dying.

"John...I'm sorry..." Jo's breath left her in a sigh. She did not take another.

Ellen knelt on the other side of Jo's body. She took it all in quickly: the blood, the deep cuts on Jo's face and body. "Oh, God. John, what did you do?" The words were accusing, but Ellen's tone was not.

John lifted Jo's body a little, allowing Ellen to take her from his arms. "I didn't have time to do anything, Ellen. Not even an exorcism. This is...what the demon left behind." As Ellen took her daughter's weight from his arms, John reached up his hand and gently closed the girl's eyes. He didn't say I'm sorry. It would be meaningless.

"No!" Ellen hugged Jo to her. "No. Please, no."

The denial was one of despair. If Ellen believed there was any hope, she'd be performing CPR. And John would have helped, even knowing it was useless. But Ellen didn't try. So she knew Jo was gone.

There was nothing worse than losing a child. John sold his soul rather than face the pain Ellen was going through now, for the second time. John knew there was nothing he could say or do to make this easier. All he could do was be there, if she needed him. He remembered a little girl in pigtails, who adored her daddy and played poker for candy, and John grieved for her too. Jo was dead because of him. He would never know for certain, of course, but from the wounds on her body he knew she'd been tortured. It wasn't difficult to reconstruct what must have happened.

"That's very touching," Ruby's voice broke into John's thoughts, "but as you just spilled your guts to Lilith, maybe you should worry about the living."

Ellen raised her head, her face streaked with tears. "She's my daughter, you bitch!"

"And she's dead," Ruby retorted. "She doesn't care any more."

John whirled around to face her. David and Bobby were flanking the demon, guarding her. David held John's Palo Santo stake. John met Ruby's eyes. He couldn't read her expression but it wasn't what he'd expected to see. It was almost as if she cared.

She had said, you just spilled your guts to Lilith. John remembered that needle of pain he felt and understood what she meant: the demon took something from his mind. He wanted to ask if she knew the demon came from Lilith or if she was just guessing, but he didn't waste time with questions. It had taken what it wanted and escaped. That was all John needed to know.

"Get her in the Jeep," John ordered David. He reached across Jo's body to touch Ellen's arm gently. "Ellen, I'm so sorry, but we're out of time. Tell me what you want to do."

She only looked at him, uncomprehending.

John knew it was cruel, but he had no choice. "Ellen, there is no time, do you understand? Do you want to stay here with Jo? You have to tell me now."

Ellen gazed down at her daughter. "We have to...take care of her...John?"

"Honey, we can't. Do you need to stay?" John was torn. He didn't want Ellen to have to deal with this alone, but he couldn't order her to abandon Jo's body here. It had to be her choice and she had to make it now.

Ellen met his eyes, taking a deep breath. "I'm with you, John."

John took her at her word. "Bobby, find an empty room and pick the lock. We'll leave Jo's body inside. Make sure you don't leave fingerprints."

"Got it." Bobby left.

"David, there's a phone booth about a mile down the road. Call 911 and tell them whatever bullshit you can come up with."

"Sure thing. Right away?"

"Yes. We'll pick you up as we leave." John waited for David to take off before turning back to Ellen. "Ellen, the cops will find her. In a couple of days you can report her missing...it'll just be another unsolved murder and you'll be able to take her home. Okay?"

Ellen wiped her eyes. Jo's body still lay between them. "Okay. Yes. It's a plan."

"Should I carry her for you?" John asked gently.

"I can carry her," Ellen insisted, her voice stronger. She gathered Jo into her arms and climbed unsteadily to her feet.

Bobby had broken into a room on the upper floor of the motel. Ellen carried her daughter's body up there and laid her gently on the bed.

John nodded to Bobby, telling him silently to leave. He moved up to Ellen's side.

Ellen fell into his arms without saying a word. John held her close. They didn't have much time, but she needed this. He needed this. John stroked her hair and laid a tender kiss on her temple.

"It's my fault," Ellen said, her voice muffled against his shirt. "I shouldn't have involved her in this."

"It's not your fault," John answered firmly. "A demon killed her."

Ellen drew away from him, just enough to look into his face. "Yes," she agreed, but I'm not like you, John. Revenge won't bring her back."

"I never thought it would. But it's something. Sometimes it's all we have." He was still holding her. "Are you ready?"

Ellen looked back to Jo. She nodded, once. "I'm ready. Let's go save your boys."

As they left the room, John covered his hand with his shirt-tail and closed the door carefully behind them. He heard a distant rumble of thunder and looked up at the sky. To the north west, he saw storm clouds gathering.

Part Eight