Supernatural - Chapter 12: Making Money (Patreon)

The drive from Cicero to Bobby's place took about eleven hours. Murphy had considered suggesting that the brothers get a night's rest before setting off, but the quiet atmosphere in the car discouraged her from saying anything.

With so much road ahead of them, Sam and Dean took turns driving. Whoever wasn't behind the wheel could rest in the passenger seat for a while.

When the brothers switched places yet again, Murphy, who had only just woken up, hesitated for a long time before speaking.

“How about I drive the rest of the way? As long as someone gives me directions, I'll be fine.”

She'd already checked. Baby had an automatic transmission and the steering wheel was on the left, just like the cars she was used to. In theory, it ought to be even easier than the manual car she'd learned to drive.

“What?” Dean twisted around and stared at the picture of innocence sitting in his back seat.

“You want me to hand my baby over to someone who threatened me last time by saying she couldn't drive? Not happening.”

Murphy faltered. He had a point, but she wasn't ready to give up. “I only said that because I was scared you'd leave me behind! Just pretend I was lying to you, okay?”

“No.” Dean's answer was absolute. He refused to look at her again, shut his eyes, and pretended to be asleep.

Murphy silently turned to Sam. His expression said plainly enough, You heard him.

“Fine! Fine! I'll just lie back here all by myself and count the stars until I die of boredom.” She flopped against Baby's back seat with a long-suffering sigh.

Sam had been half asleep himself. The exchange had woken him up completely.

He chuckled. “Don't worry about us. We're used to this. We've driven a lot farther than this before.”

Murphy made a couple of acknowledging noises, but she couldn't help thinking that knowing they were used to it didn't mean she couldn't feel bad for them.

The sky outside was beginning to brighten. They probably weren't too far from Bobby's now.

Her thoughts wandered over everything that had happened since she'd arrived in this world. Events had moved so quickly that she hadn't had a chance to think seriously about what she was supposed to do with the rest of her life.

What if she could go home someday? What if she never could? She had no idea. For all she knew, the invisible hand of the plot might decide to intervene, and she'd turn around one day to find herself back in her little apartment.

Still, she preferred to plan as though she were here for good. Going back wasn't particularly appealing anyway. Aside from the fact that dying was much easier in this world, staying here didn't seem all that bad.

Oh, except for being broke and having no legal identity. Mostly being broke.

Murphy thought about how the brothers supported themselves in the original show, and her face slowly took on an expression of utter defeat.

It was unbelievable that two men in their twenties had managed to survive for years largely on credit card fraud.

Oh, right. Dean was pretty good at cards, too. Gambling had to bring in some money.

Nope. She needed to earn a living. Just like that, Murphy had found herself a new goal.

...

By the time they reached Bobby's house, it was already morning. All three looked exhausted. Even Murphy, who hadn't done any driving, was practically dragging her feet.

“I saved you some breakfast. Eat something before you go to bed.” Bobby looked at the three young people as though they were determined to make their own lives miserable.

“Thanks, Bobby.” They drifted into the kitchen like a trio of ghosts. Sam and Dean ate quickly, clearly eager to get upstairs and sleep.

Murphy stretched her aching back and wondered whether all American road trips were like this. Granted, theirs hadn't really been a road trip. They'd just been trying to get somewhere.

She couldn't even explain why they'd insisted on driving straight home. Maybe the mood in the car had been so strange that nobody had thought to suggest stopping.

“Hey, Bobby.”

Once the brothers had gone upstairs, Murphy wandered into the study and called to him.

“What?” Bobby took a sip of coffee without looking away from the papers he was reading.

“Uh...” She hesitated and glanced at the dusty, clunky desktop computer on his desk.

“Spit it out. Use your words.” Bobby finally deigned to look up and gave her an impatient look.

“Could I borrow your computer? I want to see what the internet is like these days. I could help you upgrade your firewall or something while I'm at it.”

She didn't mention that she wanted to look for paid work online. Strangely enough, she could discuss money with complete strangers, but asking Bobby about it made her uncomfortable.

“Go ahead.” Bobby had a feeling that wasn't her whole reason, but he didn't bother asking. He simply moved from the desk to an armchair and returned to whatever book he was reading.

Murphy was pleasantly surprised by how readily he'd agreed. She'd expected to have to explain herself.

“Thanks, Bobby.” She practically bounced over to the computer, an ancient relic as far as she was concerned.

She pressed the power button. The tower responded with a heavy rumble, as though some enormous sleeping beast had been disturbed.

When the monitor finally lit up, the Windows logo remained in the center of the screen for so long that Murphy began to suspect the computer had frozen.

She knew machines used to be like this, so of course she wasn't impatient. Not at all. Her eyes were just starting to dart around the room, and her foot was bouncing of its own accord.

Bobby had been enjoying his book until the noise beside him grew increasingly irritating.

First came the faint creaking of a chair shaking. Then Murphy started sighing to herself, once or twice at first, before those sighs turned into increasingly dramatic moans of despair.

“What the hell are you doing? If you don't want to use it, get out of the way and quit disturbing me!” Bobby glared at the restless girl. He was so irritated his beard might as well have been standing on end.

Murphy froze as if somebody had hit a mute button. It took her a moment to manage, “...Nothing. Ha ha.”

Dear God! She was screaming internally. In her own time, she'd always kept her computer at the highest specifications she could afford. She hadn't suffered like this in years!

Murphy could practically feel her blood pressure rising. Before anything else, she looked through the laptops currently on the market, found the best available specifications and their prices, and worked backward to calculate how much she'd need to charge for her services.

She browsed several technical forums and freelance websites, looking specifically for urgent short-term jobs from clients willing to pay extra for fast results.

As for receiving payment, she soon set up an online account that would allow her to collect money anonymously and found a way to spend the funds through it. It wasn't a sustainable long-term solution, and paying in person would be inconvenient for now, but it was enough to let her take jobs and buy a computer.

She accepted a small job with modest pay first, partly to learn how freelance work operated in this era and partly to establish a credible track record. She finished it that same day. The client was so pleased that they referred her to someone urgently trying to resolve a server problem.

The second job paid much better. Naturally, it was several times more complicated. For the next three days, all the brothers saw of Murphy was a young woman bent over the computer, leaving her seat only to eat or sleep.

Dean stopped by once to see what she was doing. The monitor was packed with dense code, logs, and endlessly scrolling lines of text. It looked like The Matrix had come to life.

“Whoa.” Dean stood behind her with a cup of coffee, staring in amazement.

Sam could follow some of what Murphy was doing, but it wasn't his field. Before long, her work had moved beyond anything he could understand.

“Can you tell what she's doing?” Dean nudged his brother with his elbow and whispered the question.

“Nope.” Sam shook his head honestly.

“Take a lesson from her.” Dean sipped his coffee, got in a couple of digs at Sam, then made a speedy exit from the room, which was overflowing with what he considered nerd energy.

Sam watched his idiot older brother leave and rolled his eyes at his back.

...

By the time the final payment for her second job arrived, four full days had passed since Murphy first sat down at Bobby's computer.

She stared at the balance in her account. Nine thousand two hundred dollars. She checked it several times to make sure she wasn't seeing things after so many hours of work, then finally sank back in the chair and let out a long breath.

“Finished?” Sam had just come in and found her sprawled in the chair like a fish dried out in the sun.

“Finished.” Murphy sounded barely alive, but her eyes were shining. “And I've been paid.”

“I knew you weren't using Bobby's computer just for the reason you gave us.”

Sam sighed. He could understand some of her thinking. She wanted to support herself and avoid being a burden on them. Still, he didn't think she needed to work herself into the ground by sitting at a computer for days on end.

“How much did you make?” Instead of lecturing her, he went along with her excitement.

“Look!” Murphy gestured at the screen rather than announcing the figure herself. That would have felt too much like bragging.

Sam stood behind her and bent down to read the number.

“Nine thousand two hundred dollars?!” His voice rose before he could stop it.

“What? What is it? Somebody send us a bill? Burn it!” Dean appeared from nowhere, looking immediately alarmed.

“It's not a bill.” Sam straightened and looked at him. “That's what Murphy made in four days.”

“What money? She made money? She's been sitting here like a statue all week for that?” Dean rushed over to the monitor. He and Sam loomed on either side of Murphy like a pair of mountains.

“Mm-hmm.” Trapped at the foot of those mountains, Murphy felt as if she was running out of air.

Dean studied the figure, then glanced at the old computer she'd monopolized for four days.

“So you're telling me you sat here for four days and made nine thousand two hundred bucks?”

“More or less.” The question made Murphy unbearably pleased with herself, though she shrugged as casually as she could. “If the hardware hadn't been holding me back, I could've done it faster.”

Dean's face contorted in confusion. “Why? How?”

“Because every day his problem went unfixed, he lost more money than he paid me. And my skills are pretty far ahead of what the internet's used to in this era.” Murphy was practically glowing with smug satisfaction.

Sam nodded. “She probably charged less than a professional firm would, and she's good enough to solve the problem.”

Dean turned to him. “Oh, so now you understand what she was doing?”

Sam gave him a look that said, So what?

Dean rolled his eyes, certain these two were going to take years off his life. He turned back to Murphy. “What's your plan now? I mean, that's a lot of money.”

The exhaustion vanished from Murphy's face in an instant. “Ta-da! Time for my favorite part. Shopping!”

She eagerly opened her shopping cart. Waiting there was a laptop she'd chosen after comparing specifications in painstaking detail, along with spare batteries, external hard drives, a mouse, and an assortment of other accessories.

Dean saw the price at the top of the page, and his expression went blank.

“Hold on.” He pointed at the screen. “Why does that black pizza box cost three thousand dollars?”

“Dude, you...” Murphy was so outraged by his description that she almost needed oxygen. “That happens to be the highest-spec laptop you can buy right now!”

Sam studied the detailed specifications and nodded almost immediately. “The price makes sense for that machine. But do you actually need something this powerful at the moment?”

“How can you even ask that?” Murphy stared at him in disbelief. “When do you not need better specs? Even if I can't use all that power now, it'll give me room to grow.”

She launched into a rapid-fire explanation about computers, specifications, performance, and why the purchase was worth it. Enough technical jargon slipped in to leave both brothers feeling dizzy.

“Okay, okay. You're the expert. Your call.” Dean lifted his hands in surrender, while Sam gave her a thoroughly pitiful look.

“Oh, and I picked out a few presents for you guys, too. You'll see what they are when they arrive.” Murphy felt that her four days of hard work had paid off. She was almost humming to herself.

At the news that she'd bought them gifts, the brothers fell speechless. They stood like two wooden posts, staring at each other.

“You... you didn't have to do that,” Sam finally managed.