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Entry tags:
Fic: Grace Period
Word count: 3300.
Rating: R
Summary: 12x22 AU. Toni sees her son again.
Notes: It took me a week to write this. For most of the duration, I listened to the Broadchurch-soundtrack, which I highly recommend as background music.
For![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
kalliel
Dean Winchester leaves her on the side of the road.
He does take the cuffs off, but not before patting her down first. Does he think she has a dagger tucked under her garter? Does he think she wears garters? So many questions.
Toni doesn't have a dagger. What she does have is her emergency credit card – her own card, not the Men of Letters' – in the secret pocket of her beautifully tailored trousers.
Dean Winchester either doesn't find the credit card or he doesn't care, because she's all alone on a dusty back road before she can say 'thank you'.
The organisation that created her has turned its back on her, and civilisation is miles away, but it's far better than Toni's worst case scenario.
She has three fake passports in three different P.O. Boxes in three different states. Toni's a natural blonde, but she's never been dumb. The day her favourite teacher locked her in a room with her classmate and a hacksaw, Toni learned not to trust anyone else with her life.
That lesson has served her well, and she's spent the last twenty odd years preparing for the worst and learning how to utilise the resources at hand. No matter how little she's had, she's always managed to carve something good out of it.
Now, what she has is her emergency credit card and a limited life span.
It takes Toni four days and several thousand American dollars to make it home. She's important enough for the Old Men to be informed of her death, but because she didn't betray the organisation the standard operating protocols are in place. There's no trail of blood on the stairs and her son is sleeping peacefully in his room. Anna's asleep in hers and Toni stands outside the door for a few minutes and thinks about killing her.
The downstairs office has been cleared out but they haven't been very thorough in searching Toni's room. She finds what she's looking for in her bathroom cabinet. Sedative in a perfume bottle, a hypodermic needle disguised as mascara. She gives Anna enough to make her sleep through most of the following day and wiggles the needle to make a visible puncture wound. Toni carefully places the needle and bottle in full view on the nightstand and puts Anna out of her mind.
She packs one bag for herself and one for Teddy. The gun is gone from the dresser, and Toni takes a small fishing knife from the kitchen. The blade is short and curved, and sharp enough that she once sliced her thumb open with it.
Teddy's body gives a little jerk when he wakes and his eyes widen. ”Mum!” he cries, and the relief she feels is so overwhelming that it's almost painful.
She tells Teddy they're moving to his dad's house, and they can't take a car because it's bad for the environment. He finds no fault in her explanation and skips along to the pub where they take a taxi to the train station.
Sitting in the compartment is a bit like the summer vacations he's too young to remember, and watching him look out the window is the freshest breath of air Toni's taken in a long while. She leans her head back against the seat and tries to take it all in; makes memories she's not going to need. The smells of rubber and old wood in the compartment. The heat of the early summer sun through the glass. The way her son's head bounces when he's talking.
The scenery excites him, fields with cows and barns, and he's clutching his juice box so hard it's leaking on his sweater.
He's already a bit older than the boy she plied with sweets while his mother was down the hall getting vivisected.
Martin bought the house as a fixer-upper; an investment, he said with emphasis. Something to sell if we ever fall on hard times, Antonia, and Toni used to chide him for ignoring her considerable salary. He was never comfortable at the mansion or with the substantial benefits of her employment. She used to think he was being chauvinistic, but now she wonders if he couldn't somehow feel the wrongness of it, that something wasn't right. Wasn't right with her.
The mailbox is stuffed full of leaflets that are at least a year old, and a layer of dust covers everything in the house. She tucks Teddy in for a nap on the sofa and opens the windows to let in fresh air. The bills have been paid so the water and electricity are still on, and there are clean sheets in the cabinet.
She was never married to Martin and went to an awful lot of trouble to keep his name off the birth certificate. There's nothing that connects her name to this house, and she's never mentioned it, or Martin, to anyone.
The master bedroom has ceiling-to-floor windows that overlook the picturesque garden Martin worked so hard on. There's a birdbath and wooden garden furniture arranged under a large oak tree. The flower beds are empty now, but the grass is cut every week as per her instructions.
It's a pity their son will never be able to live here.
Unpacking takes her less than ten minutes. The left half of the wardrobe used to belong to Martin but she's long since thrown his clothes away. Hers are still there, and among blouses and jumpers, there's an item she hasn't thought about in years.
She gently lifts the hanger off the rod and holds the dress up in the light. It's a hideous old thing, bought in the days when large floral patterns were considered fashionable. She holds it against her body and cringes at the way the hemline doesn't even reach her knees. If she remembers correctly she used to wear white knee-length stockings and Doc Martens with it. The whole ensemble was a crime against good taste, but she knows exactly why she's kept it. It's the dress she was wearing when she met Martin.
The son of a barrister, on the road to becoming a barrister himself. Not much of a looker, but funny, a good shag, and spectacularly different from the boys she'd met at Kendrick's. His naivety felt refreshing, like a hard-won victory. People like her did the difficult things they did so that people like him could remain blissfully unaware. She delighted in being the girl he loved; the girl who volunteered at a nursing home, who had memorised the lyrics to Blur's Morning Glory album and had never killed anyone.
After Teddy wakes, they walk hand-in-hand to the centre of the village. The breeze is fresh and although the major onslaught of tourists is still weeks away there are already a few sailboats out.
They get pork from the butcher, fresh produce and eggs at the supermarket, and a fruity cone each from the ice cream stand. Teddy kicks his legs under the table and prattles on about his favourite footballers. He hasn't looked this happy in months, and with a little luck, this will be one of his favourite memories.
The rest of the day is spent in the warmth of Martin's garden. There's a croquet set and a deflated football in the shed. She sets up the croquet court but after ten minutes, Teddy's dragging his mallet behind him and losing concentration. She goes to find a bicycle pump and the next few hours go by in a blur of goals and passes.
After dinner and a bath in the walk-in-tub she'd been adamantly opposed to installing, Toni reads her son a bedtime story and hopes it isn't for the last time.
It isn't.
Dean Winchester has a burning desire to kill her. He also has a serious case of aviophobia which will make him put off getting on a plane until he absolutely can't stand it any longer. Or maybe he's gone and triggered another cataclysmic event in the last few days. In either case, Toni lives to see another day.
She takes Teddy to the beach.
A local swim club is holding a class, and a row of chubby-faced children with arm floats are splashing around in the water. Teddy already knows how to swim, so they stay outside the red buoys that mark off the training area. He has good coordination of arms and legs, but he's not a strong swimmer yet, so she stays a foot ahead of him where she can comfortably grab him if need be.
The water's just warm enough not to be chilly, but he doesn't seem to care. By the time he finally tires of bathing, her skin is covered in knots, but the sun is hot, and when they've waded back to shallow waters she's almost warm again. She packed sandwiches and tea this morning, and the parasol gives their picnic blanket just the right amount of shade. It's going to be a good summer day.
When they've almost reached their blanket, Toni turns to look back out at the sea and sees something unexpected. There's a child drowning quietly a few feet out.
She can't be more than four years old and she's lost her float wear. The way she's pressing her mouth shut tells Toni she can barely keep her head above the surface.
”Wait here,” Toni shakes Teddy's shoulder firmly and dashes off towards the water. She snatches the girl off her feet and carries her up to the beach over her shoulder.
The swim instructor stares with wide eyes for half-a-second before jumping into action. He motions to Toni to lay the girl down and begins checking her. She's coughing and he manoeuvres her body into the recovery position.
”You need to get her to a hospital,” Toni says sharply and notices a group of spectators inching closer, including her son who has ignored the direction to stay put.
The girl opens her eyes and starts crying at the same time. Toni takes her hand, shifts position slightly to make sure Teddy can see it. ”Don't cry. You're safe now. Everything's going to be all right.”
The atmosphere at the beach changes instantly. The instructor rushes the girl and her parents to a nearby hospital, and the rest of the swim club disperses quietly and with hanging heads.
”I have an idea,” Toni says when Teddy's shoulder feel still and shivering under her arm. ”Let's have our picnic in the garden.”
He cranes his neck to look up at her and the pupils of his eyes are huge. ”Mum, you saved that girl's life. Mum, you're a hero!”
Her first year out of Kendrick's, she'd been assigned to border control as an administrative assistant. It was mostly magical inventory and record-keeping, none of the heavy lifting, but there had been one instance when her unique profile had proved useful.
A lycanthrope had stowed away on a cruise ship and killed an Italian family of tourists, save for the oldest daughter. She had a few scratches, but no visible bites, and far too many inconvenient memories. Toni's superiors had decided on a wait-and-see approach, and after treating the girl for her memories, they had sent her home with Toni.
Sara spoke little English, but she recognised Toni as a social worker; someone to take care of her until her relatives could arrive to pick her up. She settled in on Toni's settee and asked no questions what had happened to her parents. Even though their exchanges were short and few, Toni thought the girl understood her pretty well. She helped with cleaning up and didn't play the television too loudly.
Wait-and-see was as frustrating as it had sounded, and Toni had hated being confined to home while the war went on without her. She was a defender of the Crown, not a fucking babysitter.
At long last, the full moon transformed her pliant houseguest into a snarling mess of teeth and fangs. Toni shot her full of tranquillizers and reported in.
The next morning, Sara woke up refreshed and clueless, and Toni told her they were going to visit dottore. Sara had nodded, and as they stood outside the Men of Letters office, she still believed Toni was telling the truth.
The days begin to fall into a pattern:
Breakfast beneath the oak tree (unless it's raining.)
A trip to the village for shopping and lunch, or a walk to the beach with a picnic basket.
Afternoon nap followed by a game of football or Hungry Hungry Hippos. Dinner and a bath. Put Teddy to sleep in his own room and watch him for a few hours. Retreat into the master bedroom and fall into dreamless sleep.
It's slow-paced and peaceful and she doesn't want it to end.
They're having dinner with the parents of the little girl she saved. She tried to talk her way out of it (Really, anyone would have done the same) but now she's glad they came. The stuffed leg of lamb is delicious and Teddy's happy to play with other children for once. Toni ignores the twinge of guilt she feels at seeing his excitement and allows herself one glass of wine.
”Do you plan on staying here all summer?”
Mrs Kaur is well-spoken and attentive. She doesn't know Toni's real name but is sure to remember her face for the rest of her life.
”I don't know,” Toni relaxes in the lawn chair and watches the children's discussion grow heated. ”I'm sort of taking a wait-and-see approach.”
The eldest daughter runs up to the table. ”Mummy,” she whines, pulling her mother's sleeve, ”Littering is a crime, isn't it?”
Mrs Kaur looks from her daughter to Teddy who is watching them expectantly. ”I'm afraid it is.”
”I told you so!” the girl exclaims triumphantly and turns back to Teddy who pouts and throws his hands out in a really endearing way.
”Fine! But it's a small crime. Not like murder.”
One of the things Toni's most grateful for is that she had the foresight to negotiate a non-approach agreement for her son. Under no circumstance are the Men of Letters ever to attempt to recruit him, or to inform him of their affiliation with his mother.
He'll go to Wales, to a top-rate, perfectly civilian boarding school, and will never learn about magic or monsters. There are ample funds in his trust set up by his adoring mother, the successful Art Director who was charitable and kind, and wanted only what was best for her son.
Early summer turns to high-summer, and the annual flood of tourists washes over the village. There's a queue to the ice cream stand every day now, and the shops are crowded with whole families of pre-tanned city dwellers.
And there he is, wearing a short-sleeved shirt and a pair of shades that can't quite hide his delight.
”Hi there,” he says cheerfully and folds his ice cream paper in several layers. ”I've been looking all over for you.”
Her hand grasps for Teddy and she doesn't want Dean to know his name, so she says, ”Sweetheart, this is Mummy's friend from America.”
Teddy peers at Dean suspiciously. ”Do they have football in America?”
”Yeah, all kinds. What position do you play?”
”Centre-forward, but I want to be a goalie. Like Joe Hart.”
Dean nods, although Toni's quite sure he doesn't know the first thing about football. ”That's the most important position on the team,” he says and gives a half-smile. ”Did you have a good summer with your mom?”
”Uh-huh,” Teddy says, and for a second she's terrified that Dean will try to ruffle his hair or shake his hand, and she doesn't know what she'll do if he does. But he makes no move on her son, just slips the ice cream paper in his pocket.
”I'm happy to hear that. I'll see you tomorrow, Toni.”
Out of the corner of her eye, she can see the blue glitter of the ocean. There's a regatta next week and the turn-out is expected to be good.
”Dean,” she says softly, ”Is there any chance you can postpone our meeting until next week? I'm sure you'd enjoy your stay here.”
He cocks his head to look at her and she can't quite read the expression in his eyes.
”No,” he says firmly.
She draws her lower lip between her teeth. ”Dean...”
He heaves a sigh and she gets the impression he's rolling his eyes. ”Tomorrow night. Midnight. I've got the address.”
Her breath catches in her throat, and she inches forward to shield Teddy from view. ”My house is a mess, I haven't...”
Dean seems to follow her train of thought and he gives a little shrug. ”Don't worry. I'll pick you up.”
She could try to run.
There's a small part of her brain that's telling her to grab Teddy and go as far as the cash in her pocket will take them. But she knows Dean would find them eventually, or the Men of Letters might decide they want their asset back, maybe even punish her for defecting by ripping up her contract. Even if by some chance she'd be able to shake them all off, she'd be condemning her son to a life as a fugitive, and that's a line she refuses to cross.
The last day they stay home. The sun's hot so she rubs sunscreen onto every visible part of Teddy's body, and they play football until he tires of it. He doesn't ask about her meeting with Dean, probably doesn't even remember that boring, adult detail. She cooks all the meat in the freezer and stacks the dishes in the sink.
”What do you want to be when you grow up?” she asks as they're eating chocolate trifle on his bed later. ”If footballer doesn't pan out.”
”I don't know, Mum,” he says exasperatedly and rescues a dollop of chocolate that's fallen on his belly. ”I want to be... a train conductor.”
”A train conductor?”
There's a line between his brows. ”Or a lawyer, like Dad.”
She can feel a smile spread on her face and she rubs the back of his neck gently. ”Your Dad loved you very much. And so do I.”
”I love you too, Mum,” he says and continues devouring his dessert. He's not at the age where displays of affection embarrass him yet, and she gives him a kiss on the forehead.
”You're a good boy. Promise me you'll stay good when you grow up.”
She stays with him for hours after he's fallen asleep. When her wristwatch shows a quarter to midnight she detaches herself from his small body and tucks him in under the covers, caresses his face, takes one last look and closes the door.
Groceries will be delivered at seven am and she's instructed the delivery boy that payment is on the kitchen table. He'll call the police, who'll call social services, who'll call Toni's lawyer. The authorities will notify Martin's elderly relative that the house she owns has had squatters, and that will be that.
Toni takes off her rings and necklace, slips them into the inner pocket of Teddy's backpack.
From the moment she sawed her way through Melanie's throat, Toni's been aware of death.
Death was present in every encounter with a monster, with every rogue operative and each breach of discipline. Death is Dean Winchester sitting in his rental car waiting for her.
The flowery dress is still hanging on the wardrobe door from where she's been able to see it every night. She pulls it off its hanger and shoves it into the back of a drawer.
She places the house keys on the hallway dresser and leaves the front door unlocked. She doesn't take her coat. It's chilly outside, but she's not going to be cold for long.
Rating: R
Summary: 12x22 AU. Toni sees her son again.
Notes: It took me a week to write this. For most of the duration, I listened to the Broadchurch-soundtrack, which I highly recommend as background music.
For
kallielDean Winchester leaves her on the side of the road.
He does take the cuffs off, but not before patting her down first. Does he think she has a dagger tucked under her garter? Does he think she wears garters? So many questions.
Toni doesn't have a dagger. What she does have is her emergency credit card – her own card, not the Men of Letters' – in the secret pocket of her beautifully tailored trousers.
Dean Winchester either doesn't find the credit card or he doesn't care, because she's all alone on a dusty back road before she can say 'thank you'.
The organisation that created her has turned its back on her, and civilisation is miles away, but it's far better than Toni's worst case scenario.
She has three fake passports in three different P.O. Boxes in three different states. Toni's a natural blonde, but she's never been dumb. The day her favourite teacher locked her in a room with her classmate and a hacksaw, Toni learned not to trust anyone else with her life.
That lesson has served her well, and she's spent the last twenty odd years preparing for the worst and learning how to utilise the resources at hand. No matter how little she's had, she's always managed to carve something good out of it.
Now, what she has is her emergency credit card and a limited life span.
It takes Toni four days and several thousand American dollars to make it home. She's important enough for the Old Men to be informed of her death, but because she didn't betray the organisation the standard operating protocols are in place. There's no trail of blood on the stairs and her son is sleeping peacefully in his room. Anna's asleep in hers and Toni stands outside the door for a few minutes and thinks about killing her.
The downstairs office has been cleared out but they haven't been very thorough in searching Toni's room. She finds what she's looking for in her bathroom cabinet. Sedative in a perfume bottle, a hypodermic needle disguised as mascara. She gives Anna enough to make her sleep through most of the following day and wiggles the needle to make a visible puncture wound. Toni carefully places the needle and bottle in full view on the nightstand and puts Anna out of her mind.
She packs one bag for herself and one for Teddy. The gun is gone from the dresser, and Toni takes a small fishing knife from the kitchen. The blade is short and curved, and sharp enough that she once sliced her thumb open with it.
Teddy's body gives a little jerk when he wakes and his eyes widen. ”Mum!” he cries, and the relief she feels is so overwhelming that it's almost painful.
She tells Teddy they're moving to his dad's house, and they can't take a car because it's bad for the environment. He finds no fault in her explanation and skips along to the pub where they take a taxi to the train station.
Sitting in the compartment is a bit like the summer vacations he's too young to remember, and watching him look out the window is the freshest breath of air Toni's taken in a long while. She leans her head back against the seat and tries to take it all in; makes memories she's not going to need. The smells of rubber and old wood in the compartment. The heat of the early summer sun through the glass. The way her son's head bounces when he's talking.
The scenery excites him, fields with cows and barns, and he's clutching his juice box so hard it's leaking on his sweater.
He's already a bit older than the boy she plied with sweets while his mother was down the hall getting vivisected.
Martin bought the house as a fixer-upper; an investment, he said with emphasis. Something to sell if we ever fall on hard times, Antonia, and Toni used to chide him for ignoring her considerable salary. He was never comfortable at the mansion or with the substantial benefits of her employment. She used to think he was being chauvinistic, but now she wonders if he couldn't somehow feel the wrongness of it, that something wasn't right. Wasn't right with her.
The mailbox is stuffed full of leaflets that are at least a year old, and a layer of dust covers everything in the house. She tucks Teddy in for a nap on the sofa and opens the windows to let in fresh air. The bills have been paid so the water and electricity are still on, and there are clean sheets in the cabinet.
She was never married to Martin and went to an awful lot of trouble to keep his name off the birth certificate. There's nothing that connects her name to this house, and she's never mentioned it, or Martin, to anyone.
The master bedroom has ceiling-to-floor windows that overlook the picturesque garden Martin worked so hard on. There's a birdbath and wooden garden furniture arranged under a large oak tree. The flower beds are empty now, but the grass is cut every week as per her instructions.
It's a pity their son will never be able to live here.
Unpacking takes her less than ten minutes. The left half of the wardrobe used to belong to Martin but she's long since thrown his clothes away. Hers are still there, and among blouses and jumpers, there's an item she hasn't thought about in years.
She gently lifts the hanger off the rod and holds the dress up in the light. It's a hideous old thing, bought in the days when large floral patterns were considered fashionable. She holds it against her body and cringes at the way the hemline doesn't even reach her knees. If she remembers correctly she used to wear white knee-length stockings and Doc Martens with it. The whole ensemble was a crime against good taste, but she knows exactly why she's kept it. It's the dress she was wearing when she met Martin.
The son of a barrister, on the road to becoming a barrister himself. Not much of a looker, but funny, a good shag, and spectacularly different from the boys she'd met at Kendrick's. His naivety felt refreshing, like a hard-won victory. People like her did the difficult things they did so that people like him could remain blissfully unaware. She delighted in being the girl he loved; the girl who volunteered at a nursing home, who had memorised the lyrics to Blur's Morning Glory album and had never killed anyone.
After Teddy wakes, they walk hand-in-hand to the centre of the village. The breeze is fresh and although the major onslaught of tourists is still weeks away there are already a few sailboats out.
They get pork from the butcher, fresh produce and eggs at the supermarket, and a fruity cone each from the ice cream stand. Teddy kicks his legs under the table and prattles on about his favourite footballers. He hasn't looked this happy in months, and with a little luck, this will be one of his favourite memories.
The rest of the day is spent in the warmth of Martin's garden. There's a croquet set and a deflated football in the shed. She sets up the croquet court but after ten minutes, Teddy's dragging his mallet behind him and losing concentration. She goes to find a bicycle pump and the next few hours go by in a blur of goals and passes.
After dinner and a bath in the walk-in-tub she'd been adamantly opposed to installing, Toni reads her son a bedtime story and hopes it isn't for the last time.
It isn't.
Dean Winchester has a burning desire to kill her. He also has a serious case of aviophobia which will make him put off getting on a plane until he absolutely can't stand it any longer. Or maybe he's gone and triggered another cataclysmic event in the last few days. In either case, Toni lives to see another day.
She takes Teddy to the beach.
A local swim club is holding a class, and a row of chubby-faced children with arm floats are splashing around in the water. Teddy already knows how to swim, so they stay outside the red buoys that mark off the training area. He has good coordination of arms and legs, but he's not a strong swimmer yet, so she stays a foot ahead of him where she can comfortably grab him if need be.
The water's just warm enough not to be chilly, but he doesn't seem to care. By the time he finally tires of bathing, her skin is covered in knots, but the sun is hot, and when they've waded back to shallow waters she's almost warm again. She packed sandwiches and tea this morning, and the parasol gives their picnic blanket just the right amount of shade. It's going to be a good summer day.
When they've almost reached their blanket, Toni turns to look back out at the sea and sees something unexpected. There's a child drowning quietly a few feet out.
She can't be more than four years old and she's lost her float wear. The way she's pressing her mouth shut tells Toni she can barely keep her head above the surface.
”Wait here,” Toni shakes Teddy's shoulder firmly and dashes off towards the water. She snatches the girl off her feet and carries her up to the beach over her shoulder.
The swim instructor stares with wide eyes for half-a-second before jumping into action. He motions to Toni to lay the girl down and begins checking her. She's coughing and he manoeuvres her body into the recovery position.
”You need to get her to a hospital,” Toni says sharply and notices a group of spectators inching closer, including her son who has ignored the direction to stay put.
The girl opens her eyes and starts crying at the same time. Toni takes her hand, shifts position slightly to make sure Teddy can see it. ”Don't cry. You're safe now. Everything's going to be all right.”
The atmosphere at the beach changes instantly. The instructor rushes the girl and her parents to a nearby hospital, and the rest of the swim club disperses quietly and with hanging heads.
”I have an idea,” Toni says when Teddy's shoulder feel still and shivering under her arm. ”Let's have our picnic in the garden.”
He cranes his neck to look up at her and the pupils of his eyes are huge. ”Mum, you saved that girl's life. Mum, you're a hero!”
Her first year out of Kendrick's, she'd been assigned to border control as an administrative assistant. It was mostly magical inventory and record-keeping, none of the heavy lifting, but there had been one instance when her unique profile had proved useful.
A lycanthrope had stowed away on a cruise ship and killed an Italian family of tourists, save for the oldest daughter. She had a few scratches, but no visible bites, and far too many inconvenient memories. Toni's superiors had decided on a wait-and-see approach, and after treating the girl for her memories, they had sent her home with Toni.
Sara spoke little English, but she recognised Toni as a social worker; someone to take care of her until her relatives could arrive to pick her up. She settled in on Toni's settee and asked no questions what had happened to her parents. Even though their exchanges were short and few, Toni thought the girl understood her pretty well. She helped with cleaning up and didn't play the television too loudly.
Wait-and-see was as frustrating as it had sounded, and Toni had hated being confined to home while the war went on without her. She was a defender of the Crown, not a fucking babysitter.
At long last, the full moon transformed her pliant houseguest into a snarling mess of teeth and fangs. Toni shot her full of tranquillizers and reported in.
The next morning, Sara woke up refreshed and clueless, and Toni told her they were going to visit dottore. Sara had nodded, and as they stood outside the Men of Letters office, she still believed Toni was telling the truth.
The days begin to fall into a pattern:
Breakfast beneath the oak tree (unless it's raining.)
A trip to the village for shopping and lunch, or a walk to the beach with a picnic basket.
Afternoon nap followed by a game of football or Hungry Hungry Hippos. Dinner and a bath. Put Teddy to sleep in his own room and watch him for a few hours. Retreat into the master bedroom and fall into dreamless sleep.
It's slow-paced and peaceful and she doesn't want it to end.
They're having dinner with the parents of the little girl she saved. She tried to talk her way out of it (Really, anyone would have done the same) but now she's glad they came. The stuffed leg of lamb is delicious and Teddy's happy to play with other children for once. Toni ignores the twinge of guilt she feels at seeing his excitement and allows herself one glass of wine.
”Do you plan on staying here all summer?”
Mrs Kaur is well-spoken and attentive. She doesn't know Toni's real name but is sure to remember her face for the rest of her life.
”I don't know,” Toni relaxes in the lawn chair and watches the children's discussion grow heated. ”I'm sort of taking a wait-and-see approach.”
The eldest daughter runs up to the table. ”Mummy,” she whines, pulling her mother's sleeve, ”Littering is a crime, isn't it?”
Mrs Kaur looks from her daughter to Teddy who is watching them expectantly. ”I'm afraid it is.”
”I told you so!” the girl exclaims triumphantly and turns back to Teddy who pouts and throws his hands out in a really endearing way.
”Fine! But it's a small crime. Not like murder.”
One of the things Toni's most grateful for is that she had the foresight to negotiate a non-approach agreement for her son. Under no circumstance are the Men of Letters ever to attempt to recruit him, or to inform him of their affiliation with his mother.
He'll go to Wales, to a top-rate, perfectly civilian boarding school, and will never learn about magic or monsters. There are ample funds in his trust set up by his adoring mother, the successful Art Director who was charitable and kind, and wanted only what was best for her son.
Early summer turns to high-summer, and the annual flood of tourists washes over the village. There's a queue to the ice cream stand every day now, and the shops are crowded with whole families of pre-tanned city dwellers.
And there he is, wearing a short-sleeved shirt and a pair of shades that can't quite hide his delight.
”Hi there,” he says cheerfully and folds his ice cream paper in several layers. ”I've been looking all over for you.”
Her hand grasps for Teddy and she doesn't want Dean to know his name, so she says, ”Sweetheart, this is Mummy's friend from America.”
Teddy peers at Dean suspiciously. ”Do they have football in America?”
”Yeah, all kinds. What position do you play?”
”Centre-forward, but I want to be a goalie. Like Joe Hart.”
Dean nods, although Toni's quite sure he doesn't know the first thing about football. ”That's the most important position on the team,” he says and gives a half-smile. ”Did you have a good summer with your mom?”
”Uh-huh,” Teddy says, and for a second she's terrified that Dean will try to ruffle his hair or shake his hand, and she doesn't know what she'll do if he does. But he makes no move on her son, just slips the ice cream paper in his pocket.
”I'm happy to hear that. I'll see you tomorrow, Toni.”
Out of the corner of her eye, she can see the blue glitter of the ocean. There's a regatta next week and the turn-out is expected to be good.
”Dean,” she says softly, ”Is there any chance you can postpone our meeting until next week? I'm sure you'd enjoy your stay here.”
He cocks his head to look at her and she can't quite read the expression in his eyes.
”No,” he says firmly.
She draws her lower lip between her teeth. ”Dean...”
He heaves a sigh and she gets the impression he's rolling his eyes. ”Tomorrow night. Midnight. I've got the address.”
Her breath catches in her throat, and she inches forward to shield Teddy from view. ”My house is a mess, I haven't...”
Dean seems to follow her train of thought and he gives a little shrug. ”Don't worry. I'll pick you up.”
She could try to run.
There's a small part of her brain that's telling her to grab Teddy and go as far as the cash in her pocket will take them. But she knows Dean would find them eventually, or the Men of Letters might decide they want their asset back, maybe even punish her for defecting by ripping up her contract. Even if by some chance she'd be able to shake them all off, she'd be condemning her son to a life as a fugitive, and that's a line she refuses to cross.
The last day they stay home. The sun's hot so she rubs sunscreen onto every visible part of Teddy's body, and they play football until he tires of it. He doesn't ask about her meeting with Dean, probably doesn't even remember that boring, adult detail. She cooks all the meat in the freezer and stacks the dishes in the sink.
”What do you want to be when you grow up?” she asks as they're eating chocolate trifle on his bed later. ”If footballer doesn't pan out.”
”I don't know, Mum,” he says exasperatedly and rescues a dollop of chocolate that's fallen on his belly. ”I want to be... a train conductor.”
”A train conductor?”
There's a line between his brows. ”Or a lawyer, like Dad.”
She can feel a smile spread on her face and she rubs the back of his neck gently. ”Your Dad loved you very much. And so do I.”
”I love you too, Mum,” he says and continues devouring his dessert. He's not at the age where displays of affection embarrass him yet, and she gives him a kiss on the forehead.
”You're a good boy. Promise me you'll stay good when you grow up.”
She stays with him for hours after he's fallen asleep. When her wristwatch shows a quarter to midnight she detaches herself from his small body and tucks him in under the covers, caresses his face, takes one last look and closes the door.
Groceries will be delivered at seven am and she's instructed the delivery boy that payment is on the kitchen table. He'll call the police, who'll call social services, who'll call Toni's lawyer. The authorities will notify Martin's elderly relative that the house she owns has had squatters, and that will be that.
Toni takes off her rings and necklace, slips them into the inner pocket of Teddy's backpack.
From the moment she sawed her way through Melanie's throat, Toni's been aware of death.
Death was present in every encounter with a monster, with every rogue operative and each breach of discipline. Death is Dean Winchester sitting in his rental car waiting for her.
The flowery dress is still hanging on the wardrobe door from where she's been able to see it every night. She pulls it off its hanger and shoves it into the back of a drawer.
She places the house keys on the hallway dresser and leaves the front door unlocked. She doesn't take her coat. It's chilly outside, but she's not going to be cold for long.