Supernatural - Chapter 13: Can I Come Too? (Patreon)

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

“I know. But I want to.” Murphy gave the most matter-of-fact answer in the world and went straight back to browsing, apparently seeing no contradiction whatsoever.

Dean looked between the two of them. Feeling oddly pleased, he was the first to shake off the awkwardness hanging over the room.

“Well, if she wants to buy them, who are we to spoil the excitement of her first shopping spree with money she earned herself?”

He patted Sam on the shoulder and added with great solemnity, “Especially the part where she buys something for me.”

“You don't even know what she's buying,” Sam said, exasperated.

“Doesn't matter. Free stuff is good stuff.” Dean sounded perfectly convinced.

“I heard that,” Murphy said without looking around. “And I can still take your present out of my cart.”

“How can you threaten a guy with a gift you've already given him?” Dean's eyes went wide. He looked like a cat whose fur had suddenly puffed up.

“I haven't even paid for it yet. How have I given it to you?”

Dean promptly shut his mouth and put on an injured expression.

Satisfied, Murphy turned back to the screen.

She'd already chosen the laptop she wanted and upgraded every specification to the maximum. All that remained was to add a spare battery, an external hard drive, a mouse, and a few accessories she could carry on the road.

The total in her shopping cart kept climbing, but it didn't give her a moment's pause.

A computer was what she used to earn her living. Why would she cheap out on the one tool she depended on?

Four whole days with Bobby's ancient machine had been torture. Merely remembering its endless startup screen made her want to chew her own lips off.

As for delivery, she picked the fastest service without hesitation. Next-day shipping, obviously.

Sam watched her confirm the laptop order and move on to the accessories. Then something occurred to him. “What about your phone?”

Murphy's hand stopped on the mouse.

For several seconds, the study went quiet.

“My what?” She slowly looked up.

“Your cell phone. You still don't have one.”

Murphy stared at him, eyes widening.

Oh, for heaven's sake!

She'd remembered the laptop, the extra battery, and even gifts for everyone else. Somehow, she'd completely forgotten that she didn't own a phone.

On their earlier trips, she'd had no reason to call anybody. All she'd needed to do was trail after the brothers. Then she'd been so busy that the idea of needing a phone hadn't crossed her mind at all.

What kind of prehistoric existence was this? She'd spent more than ten days without modern society's most essential survival tool and had somehow managed to function!

“Guess people from the future aren't as clever as they're supposed to be,” Dean remarked, enjoying himself far too much.

“Close that little mouth of yours.” Murphy was embarrassed enough to snap.

She opened another page and started looking through the phones available in 2007. Eventually she picked a BlackBerry with a full keyboard and arranged a phone number and prepaid credit while she was at it.

Dean glanced at the price and whistled. “Even phones cost a fortune. Guess it really pays to have a skill you can make money with.”

“Oh, don't be jealous, Dean. If you turned hunting demons into a business, you'd make more than I do.” Murphy gave him a fake smile that gradually became a real one as she remembered something. Much later, in another universe, the Winchesters really did turn hunting into a family business.

That version of Sam and Dean had grown up in luxury. They were even flown to hunts in a private plane. Sam wore his hair in a bun and flatly refused to cut it.

The more she pictured it, the funnier it got. She couldn't help staring at the two men in front of her, who had spent years scraping by on credit card fraud.

“What are you smiling about?” Dean demanded suspiciously.

“Nothing.” Murphy fought to get her expression under control. “Just picturing the two of you going on hunts in designer clothes and a private jet.”

Dean considered the image. To his own surprise, he rather liked it. “Sounds reasonable to me.”

“It doesn't sound reasonable at all,” Sam said at once.

Murphy's gaze drifted to his hair, and she nearly lost control of her grin again.

The brothers were getting goosebumps from the strange way she looked at them. After a few awkward laughs, they made a hasty escape from the study.

Once they'd gone, Murphy closed the pages she'd been browsing and signed in to several other sites.

Time to buy presents!

At last, she could shop in peace. She'd promised to keep the gifts secret, and there was no way she was going to order them while Sam and Dean watched over her shoulder.

For Bobby, she chose a dependable cordless phone with an answering machine, along with several external drives for backing up his hunters' records. She knew how seriously he took backups. Even rare, out-of-print documents got photocopied several times and hidden in different places.

Every investigation left Sam sorting through stacks of newspapers, books, and archived records. When he couldn't take them away, he had to sit there copying things out by hand. After some thought, Murphy settled on a portable scanner.

And Dean...

Buying car accessories for him was asking for trouble. If he didn't like what she chose, he'd probably take it as an insult to Baby herself.

In the end, she went with his most obvious passion: classic rock.

After browsing several collectors' forums, she tracked down a well-preserved set of live concert recordings on cassette. A few were long out of production and weren't cheap at collectors' prices.

Good thing she had money now.

Having money was wonderful!

She confirmed every order. The $9,200 that had looked so enormous when it first landed in her account had shrunk dramatically.

Oh, well. Money was meant to be spent. No regrets!

...

The extra money she'd paid for express delivery was worth every cent.

Her laptop and phone arrived at Bobby's house the very next afternoon.

The delivery driver pulled into the junkyard and stared at the mountains of wrecked cars for a long time, clearly wondering if he'd come to the wrong address.

Murphy had spent so much of the day hovering by the front door that Bobby was practically ready to throw salt at her. At the sound of an engine outside, she all but flew out of the house.

“Here! You're in the right place!”

She carried the laptop box back inside with the reverence she'd have shown an expensive cursed artifact that might explode if she jostled it.

Dean leaned against the table and watched her set it down with painstaking care.

“So that's the three-thousand-dollar black pizza box?”

“Please watch your language. Thank you.”

“Come on. It's a pretty good description.”

“You're officially banned from using my computer.”

Dean pointed to himself in disbelief. “Me? Banned? Why?”

“Because you look exactly like someone who'd finish eating, forget to wipe his hands, start typing on my keyboard, and spill coffee all over it for good measure.”

“Hey!” Dean was beginning to wonder what impression he made on people. How could a woman who'd known him barely two weeks describe him so... so accurately?

Murphy spent most of the day configuring her new laptop.

It started up at a normal speed. Programs responded when she opened them. She could click the mouse without waiting long enough to question every decision she'd ever made.

It was enough to make her emotional. She felt as though somebody had finally reattached a hand she'd been missing.

She had her new phone working in no time, too.

Murphy saved Bobby's, Sam's, and Dean's numbers in her contacts, then set up speed dial.

Dean immediately spotted something he didn't like.

“Why is Bobby first?”

Murphy glanced at the contact list and then at Dean, who seemed determined to make an issue out of nothing. She looked confused.

“...Maybe because his name starts with B?”

“Then what about Sam? His name comes after mine alphabetically, but somehow he's still second!”

Sam had been trying to make himself invisible, leafing through the newspaper for possible cases. Abruptly dragged into the argument, he looked up and produced a strained smile.

“You know what, Dean?” Murphy turned to face him, placed both hands on his shoulders, and adopted an expression of immense sincerity. “I'm a considerate friend. I wouldn't dream of interrupting you while you're picking up women or enjoying one of those private, passionate moments you don't want us asking about.”

Dean grew uncomfortable under her stare and shifted just enough to free his shoulders.

“Okay, okay. Thanks so much for that completely unnecessary consideration.”

Once she'd finished setting up her own equipment, Murphy took a look at Sam's laptop, too.

He regularly connected to the internet through motels, cafés, and whatever other networks happened to be available. He used that same machine to search police and hospital records and investigate hunting cases.

As far as Murphy was concerned, it was a miracle he'd managed this long without trouble.

She tightened his firewall and security settings, gave sensitive files extra protection, and removed several programs that were slowing the computer down.

Sam had planned to watch and learn a few things. But as she worked, his attention kept drifting away from the screen and toward her.

She was such a bundle of contradictions. At first she'd seemed like an unsettling riddle, a dangerous stranger who somehow also seemed sincere.

Now that they'd grown more familiar over the past few days, all her odd, lively little habits were coming out. One moment she seemed as blank as a robot, and the next she noticed things so quickly it was almost frightening.

He kept watching until she sensed his gaze and looked up in puzzlement. Sam promptly turned back to the screen as though nothing had happened.

...

Once she'd finished with all the work-related tasks, the others went about their business. Murphy, meanwhile, remembered the entertainment she'd been forced to give up since arriving in this world.

After checking that nobody was around, she furtively browsed the internet. When she found The Sims 2, she almost wept with joy.

Thank goodness the games she loved existed in this world, too!

When Sam came to call her to dinner, he found her staring at the screen with such concentration that she might have been negotiating a major contract.

Assuming she was working again, he approached. Before he could see what she was doing, Murphy sensed someone nearby and snapped the laptop shut.

“What are you doing?” Sam asked, looking suspiciously from her to the computer.

“Nothing!” She started fidgeting, touching the laptop and looking everywhere except at him. Then she tried to sound casual. “What's up?”

“Dinner's ready. Bobby brought home some takeout. I thought you might like it.” Sam pointed toward the dining room.

“Really? That's great! I'm starving!” The mention of takeout was all Murphy needed. She practically flew out of the study.

Sam lingered. After hesitating for a moment, he quietly opened the laptop and found a game still running on the screen.

He smiled to himself and closed it again.

...

Several more deliveries arrived at the junkyard over the following days.

Bobby insisted that the old telephone and his existing backup equipment worked just fine. Once Murphy installed the replacements, however, he never mentioned switching back.

Sam figured out his portable scanner quickly. That evening, he scanned the documents piling up on his desk, and organizing and searching the files became much easier.

He thanked Murphy so earnestly that she grew self-conscious. She managed to explain that she'd need those records herself someday, so she was simply preparing ahead.

Dean's tapes were the last to arrive.

Private collectors weren't as quick to ship as big retailers. Two more days passed before the package turned up at Bobby's house.

Murphy tossed the box to Dean, who was watching television on the couch.

“Yours.”

Dean caught it and inspected the size. “Why's my present smaller than theirs?”

“Didn't you say free stuff was good stuff?”

Trapped by his own words, Dean had no choice but to open it.

At first he seemed casual about the whole thing. Then he saw what was inside, and his expression changed.

He drew out one of the tapes and carefully inspected its cover and the markings on the back.

“Where did you find these?”

“Collectors' forums.” Murphy watched him closely. “The seller had excellent reviews, and they're in good condition.”

Several were recordings of live shows from the seventies, issued in tiny quantities and never released again.

“Well?” she asked, unable to hide her hope that he liked them.

Dean's delighted surprise was impossible to miss. He put the cassette back in the box, hugged the whole thing to his chest, and stood up.

“Where are you going?” Sam asked.

“Gonna see Baby!” Dean headed straight out without looking back.

Murphy peered through the window. “Guess that was a decent present?”

“He loves it,” Sam said, smiling.

“Yeah, I noticed.” She nodded, pleased with herself.

...

The morning after the deliveries finally stopped, Murphy came downstairs to find Sam and Dean loading the car.

Bobby stood in the doorway drinking coffee while Dean crouched by Baby's trunk, arranging his weapons.

“You guys heading out?” Murphy asked.

“Yeah.” Sam emerged with an armful of papers. “Nothing's turned up around here, and we've been at Bobby's long enough. Figured we'd get back on the road and see what we find.”

Murphy nodded. She'd always known the brothers wouldn't stay at Bobby's forever.

She had a computer, a phone, and a way to make money now. Even if she stayed behind, she wouldn't have to depend on Bobby indefinitely.

She headed for the kitchen to find something they could take to eat on the road.

Dean closed the trunk and came inside. When he noticed she was still dressed in her comfortable clothes, he stopped.

“Why aren't you packed?”

Murphy looked at him blankly. “Packed for what?”

“Your stuff.”

“My stuff?”

Dean frowned. “What else?”

She stared at him for several seconds, then turned toward Sam outside the door.

“Wait. I get to come too?”

Dean looked even more confused than she did. He glanced at her and then at Sam, apparently unable to understand why she was asking.

“What do you mean? Don't you want to come with us?”

“Of course I do!” she answered so fast that her voice rose an octave.

Sam walked in and caught the end of their exchange. He looked surprised, too.

“We thought you'd already started packing.”

Murphy's eyes grew brighter and brighter. “You really want to keep taking me along?”

“What kind of question is that? You were the one who wanted to tag along on our cases from the beginning. We couldn't even convince you to stay at Bobby's.” Dean shook his head.

“I'll go! I'm coming!”

She spun around and ran for the stairs. Two steps up, she turned back.

“Give me ten minutes!”

Dean checked his watch. “One second late, and we'll vanish like ghosts.”

Murphy had already disappeared upstairs.

Dean watched her go and asked Sam, genuinely perplexed, “What's she so happy about?”

Sam was quiet for a moment. “I think she assumed working with us was just temporary.”

“When did we ever say we were leaving her behind?”

“We never said we'd keep taking her with us, either. Actually, we've never brought anyone along like this before.”

Dean thought about that and found he couldn't argue.

A little over ten minutes later, Murphy hurried downstairs with her laptop bag on her back and her luggage in her hand.

“Ready!”

Dean checked his watch again. “Thirteen minutes.”

“I still have to check that my laptop's packed properly.”

“How'd you suddenly end up with so much stuff?”

“Because I own things now.”

Murphy hugged the laptop bag protectively and shot Dean a warning look. “And you are not touching this.”

“Don't worry. I'll keep my hands a hundred meters from your precious computer.” Dean pointed at the bag, then spread his arms as wide as he could to demonstrate his commitment.

Sam took her luggage, and they all walked out to Baby.

Murphy slipped into the back seat and carefully placed her laptop beside her. Sam got into the passenger seat while Bobby watched them from the doorway.

“Don't get yourselves into too much trouble,” Bobby warned.

“Relax.” Dean rested an arm against the open window and flashed a sunny grin. “When have we ever let you down?”

Bobby stared at him, deadpan, for several seconds.

“Idjit.”

Dean laughed and started Baby's engine.

As they rolled out of the junkyard, he slipped one of Murphy's new tapes into the cassette player.

Music filled the Impala. With one more passenger than before, it headed back onto the open road.