It's Only a Paper Moon
Oct. 11th, 2009 09:15 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
Title: It's Only a Paper Moon, Part V
Warning: R-rated for language and violence
Summary: Dean and Sam head to Washington to tackle a case where a ghost is blamed for multiple deaths. However, once they discover what the entity is, they realize they have no way of stopping the tortured soul from continuing its murderous rampage. Becoming more and more desperate as the body count rises, the Winchesters delve into forgotten family history to discover a murderous tragedy that has yet to see the end.
“Oh, man,” Dean whispered as he scanned the letter for the third time. “I sure as hell wasn't expecting that.”
“No wonder Mom didn’t want us to know,” Joshua said. “Our business, our property, they're now all mixed up with the Inoues'. There’s no way to make reparations without destroying our lives.”
“But what do we do?” Joanie asked. “Thomas was the last of the Inoues and his body is somewhere we can’t get at. So, what does grandfather want from us?”
“He’s cremated, right?” Dean asked.
“Yes, and his ashes scattered in the Pacific.”
“Okay, so there’s no way to reunite the two, and there’s no way to make this right unless it all comes out,” Sam thought out loud. "And we're not sure that's what your grandfather wanted.”
“I’m game,” Joshua said. “If that’s what it takes, then hell, I’ll do it.”
“Joshua – what happens to mom if you do that? Even if she recovers from her stroke, the scandal might just kill her. You have to remember granddad made a lot of enemies when he confronted the town council about the monument, so they'll have no problems ruining our name for revenge.”
The son deflated. He studied his hands, unable to meet his sister’s anguished gaze. Dean sighed and looked at Sam who was as torn and unsure as he was.
What the hell do we do? Dean thought. Destroy a family for a past wrong? But if we don’t people are going keep dying unless we man the bridge for the rest of our lives!
He didn't have to ask Sam to know he was on the same train of thought. Dean stood up and said, “I’m going to make a call. There’s something I need to check out.”
Dean wasn’t too surprised when his brother joined him in the parking lot. Sam looked around to make sure they were out of earshot before asking, “What do you have in mind?”
“Something’s been bothering me,” Dean said. “How could Thomas Inoue disappear like that without a blip? If there was some guy in Hawaii then he should've come looking when his boyfriend never showed.”
“But those days there weren’t any nation-wide missing person database, and sad to say, the welfare of Japanese Americans weren’t exactly … top of the list for the local law enforcement.”
“Still, a decorated soldier just can’t go missing,” Dean argued thoughtfully. “Thomas Inoue wasn’t a nobody. He was loved … admired. He got two medals and had more than four commendations from his company. Men like that? They bond for life and if one of them goes missing, then for sure the rest will go looking for him.”
“What do you want to do?” Sam asked.
“Let me make some calls,” Dean answered. "And find out why nobody came looking."
“Make it fast.”
Venice, Oregon
The neighborhood was brand new and there were more than few BMWs sitting in the driveways.
“Wow,” Dean whistled when he saw a Maserati drive through automatic gates before roaring away.
“Very upscale,” Sam agreed. He studied the manicured lawns and the three-storied Craftsman houses.
“Hey, someone’s home,” Dean said, pointing at a sprawling Cape Cod. “That’s it.”
An athletic young man was shooting hoop on the driveway, clearly enjoying himself in spite of the fact he missed most of his shots. He noticed their approach and walked towards them with a wide-open grin. “Can I help you?”
Sam flashed his FBI badge. “I’m looking for Thomas Inoue?”
“The FBI?” the young man said, eyes widening in alarm.
“It’s about an incident that took place in Nevin.”
“Sorry, name’s Jason. Thomas Inoue is my grandfather,” Jason said and shook their hands. “He’s out back, in the garden. When the weather’s nice you can always find him there.”
Sam managed to school his face into one of appreciation, not shock. Dean was right. Jesus Christ!
As soon as they reached the back of the house Jason hollered, “Grandpa! You got visitors!”
A short, elfish-like figure stood up slowly from behind a row of bushes. “Oh, who?”
Sam saw the similarities immediately. Even though sixty years had passed Thomas was startlingly youthful. Sam suspected the ex-soldier's athletic leanings didn’t fade away with age.
“We’re here about Montgomery Catskill,” Dean said gently.
Thomas turned to his grandson and murmured, "This is private."
"I'll be shooting," Jason said before disappearing.
Thomas waited until his grandson was completely out of sight before saying, “Monty died years ago."
“Yes, he did,” Sam replied. “We found out what happened in 1945, sir. Mr. Catskill told us.”
Thomas shook his head and pulled off his hat. “What? I don't understand. And I never filed charges. I let him go. I set him free.”
"Set him free?" Sam echoed in confusion.
Dean closed his eyes and shook his head. “Jesus Christ. There was no other guy, was there? You lied to protect him.”
The sunlight seemed to actually dim as Sam understood the sacrifice Thomas had made for his beloved.
“He thought we could make it, but I knew better,” Thomas said weakly. “I saw what was happening across the country, and even though I was a decorated war hero, I knew those signs saying ‘Japs Go Home’, ‘Japs Not Wanted Here’ were for me, too. Monty would’ve been crucified for our friendship, and I couldn’t stand by and watch Nevin destroy him.”
“What happened that night?” Dean asked.
“I woke as soon as the water hit me. The knot was so lose I got free quickly. Then I made it to shore without being noticed. I even managed to hitchhike to Port Orchard to get some medical help from a doctor I knew.” Thomas took a deep breath. “I stayed in Port Orchard for a week in case Monty got into trouble but he never did. That's not so surprising since I took a Greyhound to Tacoma and thumbed my way to Nevin. Nobody in town knew I came home.
“Afterwards, I went to Hawaii, got a job, got married to a nice girl, divorced the nice girl three years later because I couldn’t be that big a bastard. Naomi was a sweetheart and she deserved a better man than me. But we had two children and they were more than enough for me to make a life for myself.”
“Does your family know?” Sam asked.
“No, not a clue,” Thomas answered with a sad smile. “They look at me and see a dying old man, not the handsome young sapling I was. I think it would horrify them to see me as a sexual creature; much less a gay man.”
Sam couldn’t help but smile. “All children think that. It’s a coping mechanism.”
Thomas responded with a smile both bright and crafty. “And we should be grateful for that, as parents that is.” He examined Dean and Sam. “You’re not FBI, are you?”
“No, sir, we’re not,” Dean answered. “We tracked you down because we have a big problem: actually Joshua and Joanie Catskill do.”
“Monty’s grandchildren? What has happened?”
“Sir, we believe Monty’s ghost is creating the havoc on the Tacoma Narrows Bridge.”
“The accidents?” Thomas frowned. “I’ve read about some ghost being responsible but I didn’t believe it. Are you telling me it’s Monty?”
“Yes,” Sam said. “And he’s been haunting the Sakura grove, also.”
“Well, shit,” Thomas whispered.
“You don’t seem surprised,” Dean supplied. “Right about now most people would be running away while calling the cops.”
“I’ve seen things I can never talk about,” Thomas explained. “Hell, I’ve done things I can never talk about.
“So Monty’s grandchildren are in danger?”
“Them and anybody who crosses the bridge. It’s a right mess over there,” Dean said. “And we need your help to put it right.”
“I see,” Thomas said. “Let me pack my overnight bag. I have to leave a note for my son so he doesn’t call the police. It shouldn’t take longer than fifteen minutes. I learned to pack lightly during my Army days and it never wore off.”
“Thank you,” Sam said earnestly. “We had completely run out of options by the time we got to you.”
“It’s not for you I’m doing this,” Thomas said bluntly. “It’s for Monty and his family.”
“Of course,” Dean said.
Thomas hobbled down the stony path and into the house. Dean and Sam marched to the front where Jason stood waiting for them.
“I heard you talk about Nevin,” Jason said. “Is he going back to that hellhole?”
“He has to,” Dean replied.
“Why?” Jason argued. “That place treated him like a rabid dog.”
“It’s for a friend of his,” Sam said.
“He doesn't have a friend there," Jason said hotly. "Grandpa doesn’t know but dad did some investigating about his past. It wasn’t long before he found out about what had happened to him in Nevin and the Catskill bitch who screwed him over.”
“He has the right to put things to rest,” Sam countered.
Jason tried to look annoyed but failed. Fear crept into his face. “I don't want him to go back. His health ... he's so fragile." Jason viciously bounced the ball against a garage door. "He's pretty amazing guy, you know? He has the gift of being grateful.”
“Grateful for what?” Dean asked.
“Just being grateful,” Jason answered. “Grateful to walk up and down the stairs at his age, grateful for being able to eat good food and have the presence of mind to appreciate it.
“I was embarrassed at first: thought it was the whole ‘Bowing Asian’ thing, but it isn’t. He really is grateful, and happy. I wish I had that.”
“That is a rare gift,” Sam agreed. “I wish I had it too.”
“I also know about Grandpa liking men,” Jason said. “He thinks we don’t pay attention because he’s old, but we’re not stupid. And it doesn’t matter to us. It never did.”
Thomas came out the front door, lugging a well-used army surplus backpack. Jason smiled. “That’s my grandpa. I swear: if given half the chance he’d enlist again.”
Dean smiled and Sam basked in it. It was rare but when Dean was genuinely happy his grin was both free and beautiful.
“I’m ready,” Thomas said. He turned to Jason and patted his shoulder. “I’ll be back soon. Can’t have your father pissing kittens because I took a day off without his permission.”
Jason cackled merrily before giving his granddad a hug. But Dean noticed that he watched with worry as Thomas walked away, and couldn’t help but feel just as concerned since neither he nor Sam knew how Catskill’s spirit was going to react to the fact that Thomas, the man he thought he’d murdered, was still alive.
Under the Tacoma Narrows Bridge
Thomas handed over a metal flask. “I thought we might need this.”
Dean gave a nod of gratitude before taking a sip. He passed it to Sam who also took a chug. Thomas tucked it back into his bag and looked out at the calm, black waters.
“It doesn’t look the same,” Thomas said after carefully examining his surroundings.
“Probably all the lights,” Dean explained. “Lot more houses on both shores.”
Thomas nodded. “That and the bridges. Damn, these things are ugly. Convenient? Yes, but a complete eyesore.
“What do you want me to do if Monty comes?”
“Tell him the truth. Let him find some peace.” Sam looked at Thomas with questioning eyes. “Can you do that? Forgive him?”
“I betrayed him first, Sam. You have to remember that. So, the question becomes can he forgive me?”
“No time to discuss that because here he comes!” Dean shouted, pointing at the green flare diving into the water.
“My God, it’s all true,” Thomas said.
Sam looked up at the bridge and saw flashlights trailing the spectral light. “Shit, we’ve got company. We're going to have to hurry.”
Catskill's ghost hovered above the water just like he’d done before. Thomas leaned forward and croaked, “Monty, it’s me!”
The ghost’s head snapped towards them.
“Monty,” Thomas whispered. “What did you do to yourself?”
The ghost floated so close that Thomas reached out, only to have his hands brush through the shimmering form. The inability to touch his lover finally broke Thomas. He sobbed out, “You have to stop all this. Jesus Christ…”
Castkill’s face shifted from one of confusion to joy. He even tried to take Thomas' hands into his but failed.
“You have to go home. You have to because I’m going to be right behind you. And I’ve been waiting for us to be together for so long … please, Monty.
“I’m so tired, love. So damn tired.” Even though he’d failed before, Tommy tried once more to hold the man he'd abandoned over sixty years ago.
This time Catskill responded, and though they still couldn’t touch their hands were hovering right next to each other.
Sam saw flashing lights of a police cruiser approaching their boat. “We really don’t have any time left.”
Thomas sat back on his boat and watched with tearful eyes as the glowing form began to flicker. “Good night. For now.”
“We’re so out of here,” Dean said as he turned on the outboard engine.
Sam placed comforting hands on Inoue's shoulders as the man wept without a sound. He looked at Dean and saw something he rarely witnessed: Dean’s eyes were wet with unshed tears as he watched the old soldier grieve for a sacrifice of years that brought about so much pain.
Dean guided the boat to a private dock they ‘loaned’ from its absent owner. Sam made sure the boat tied securely before helping Dean lift Thomas out of the equally 'loaned' boat.
“Let’s get out of here,” Dean said after he hustled Inoue into the backseat of the Impala. “The poor guy’s got enough on his plate. The last thing he needs is to deal with cops.”
Sam nodded in agreement. “Where to?”
“Back to Joshua’s place,” Dean answered. “Let’s see if everything’s settled down.”
Dean drove back to Nevin at breakneck speed. Sam would’ve said something but he knew why Dean was in a hurry. Even though they tried to convince Joshua to get out, he returned home because somewhere in the middle of his terror, he’d found rage. And bathing in the glorious shower of righteous anger, Joshua stormed back into his house and refused to leave. Dean and Sam were too strapped for time and had to leave him as sunset was fast approaching.
Joshua was waiting in the front steps along with his dogs who were acting more like lap cats starving for affection. “Is it over?” he asked.
“I hope so,” Dean answered.
Thomas looked up and physically recoiled as if attacked. Dean had forgotten how similar Joshua was to his grandfather in his looks.
“Joshua, this is Thomas Inoue,” Dean introduced the poor man.
“Oh shit,” Joshua stood up. “I’m sorry. I thought because what … Jesus, come in. Please.”
Joshua led them to the kitchen where the coffee was percolating. And - from the smell - pizza warming in the oven.
“Sit down,” Joshua said. “Let me get you some…”
Joanie came rushing in. “You’ve got to see this.”
“What?” Joshua asked, immediately turning pale at the expectation of more bad news.
“The grove,” Joanie explained, grinning from ear to ear. “It’s dying.”
Dean gave a nod to Sam, asking his brother to follow Joanie and Joshua while he stayed with Inoue. Sam needed no further encouragement, but he still had to run at his fastest pace to keep up with the Catskills. However, he came to a full stop when he saw the grove.
The trees weren't just dying: they were falling apart. Branches were snapping off even as he watched and some were actually crumbling as if they were being riddled by .50-caliber bullets.
“It’s over?” Joanie asked him as she watched the destruction.
“It’s over,” Sam answered. “Mr. Inoue got through to him. He made your grandfather remember.”
Joshua burst into tears. “He forgave granddad?”
“Yes, he did,” Sam said. “Forgave everything because he was still in love with your grandfather.”
Joanie embraced her brother with what little strength she had left. The two held each other up as their nightmare died around them. Sam decided to watch them instead because that was where the future lay. Not with the dying trees.
Dean was still munching on the homemade blueberry muffins as he merged the Impala onto SR16. Sam warily watched the various sixteen-wheelers dodge around their car and wondered why Dean would risk his baby in such a manner.
“I know what I’m doing,” Dean said, sensing his brother’s anxiety.
“I didn't say anything,” Sam shot back. He looked at Dean and added, “I was thinking.”
“Okay, want me to pull over?”
“No.” Sam had to say the next words carefully. “I think Tommy Inoue got it right.”
“Had what right?”
“To be grateful for what he had: to not look back,” Sam said. “Maybe he had the right idea, and we should do the same.”
The sunny smile on Dean's face was appreciably warped by his muffin-stuffed cheeks. “I was actually thinking the same thing.”
“We stopped the Apocalypse, got the Prince of Hell back into his cage,” Sam began rambling. “So, maybe, we should be grateful for that. We don’t need to remember because…”
“What are we expecting? A medal?” Dean jumped in. “We should be on our knees thanking God … or … somebody that we got out alive. And together.”
Sam nodded enthusiastically. “Yeah, so, now what?”
“Dude, how about a case? It's about time we got back into the swing of things. Without angels or demons beating at our door.”
“Poltergeist or something more interesting?”
Dean grinned. “Only in our fucked up world do we have a menu of supernatural critters to kill.”
“There’s a talk about missing sailors off the coast of Oregon,” Sam offered. “I’m guessing siren or maybe even a púca.”
“Siren?” Dean looked positively hopeful.
“Sirens aren’t actually beautiful women, Dean,” Sam said, still grinning. “They’ve got claws and fangs and usually like to munch on the men they seduce.”
“But they’re topless.”
Sam had nothing to respond to that so he just leaned back and enjoyed the sun and the cool breeze that roared past him as Dean cranked up Iron Maiden and pushed the Impala to her limit.
The End
Part IV
Author's Notes:
This story took a while to finish but hey, I made it! Of course, at this juncture it's been kripke'd so hard it's AU.
The treatment of Japanese American soldiers after WWII has been a great source of tragedy for American history, and one that can never be corrected. However, their sacrifices have been recognized over the years and now the few who are still alive can proudly recollect their contributions to anyone willing to listen without fear of reprisals.
The title is based on a famous song made even more popular by Benny Goodman during the last days of WWII. This version by Ella Fitzgerald is my personal favorite. And though the song is upbeat, I think the lyrics reflect Montgomery Catskill's mindset during the years he waited for Tommy to return to him.
Unfortunately, there is no soundtrack to show my thanks for taking the time to read It's Only A Paper Moon. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this case!fic.
Warning: R-rated for language and violence
Summary: Dean and Sam head to Washington to tackle a case where a ghost is blamed for multiple deaths. However, once they discover what the entity is, they realize they have no way of stopping the tortured soul from continuing its murderous rampage. Becoming more and more desperate as the body count rises, the Winchesters delve into forgotten family history to discover a murderous tragedy that has yet to see the end.
“Oh, man,” Dean whispered as he scanned the letter for the third time. “I sure as hell wasn't expecting that.”
“No wonder Mom didn’t want us to know,” Joshua said. “Our business, our property, they're now all mixed up with the Inoues'. There’s no way to make reparations without destroying our lives.”
“But what do we do?” Joanie asked. “Thomas was the last of the Inoues and his body is somewhere we can’t get at. So, what does grandfather want from us?”
“He’s cremated, right?” Dean asked.
“Yes, and his ashes scattered in the Pacific.”
“Okay, so there’s no way to reunite the two, and there’s no way to make this right unless it all comes out,” Sam thought out loud. "And we're not sure that's what your grandfather wanted.”
“I’m game,” Joshua said. “If that’s what it takes, then hell, I’ll do it.”
“Joshua – what happens to mom if you do that? Even if she recovers from her stroke, the scandal might just kill her. You have to remember granddad made a lot of enemies when he confronted the town council about the monument, so they'll have no problems ruining our name for revenge.”
The son deflated. He studied his hands, unable to meet his sister’s anguished gaze. Dean sighed and looked at Sam who was as torn and unsure as he was.
What the hell do we do? Dean thought. Destroy a family for a past wrong? But if we don’t people are going keep dying unless we man the bridge for the rest of our lives!
He didn't have to ask Sam to know he was on the same train of thought. Dean stood up and said, “I’m going to make a call. There’s something I need to check out.”
Dean wasn’t too surprised when his brother joined him in the parking lot. Sam looked around to make sure they were out of earshot before asking, “What do you have in mind?”
“Something’s been bothering me,” Dean said. “How could Thomas Inoue disappear like that without a blip? If there was some guy in Hawaii then he should've come looking when his boyfriend never showed.”
“But those days there weren’t any nation-wide missing person database, and sad to say, the welfare of Japanese Americans weren’t exactly … top of the list for the local law enforcement.”
“Still, a decorated soldier just can’t go missing,” Dean argued thoughtfully. “Thomas Inoue wasn’t a nobody. He was loved … admired. He got two medals and had more than four commendations from his company. Men like that? They bond for life and if one of them goes missing, then for sure the rest will go looking for him.”
“What do you want to do?” Sam asked.
“Let me make some calls,” Dean answered. "And find out why nobody came looking."
“Make it fast.”
Venice, Oregon
The neighborhood was brand new and there were more than few BMWs sitting in the driveways.
“Wow,” Dean whistled when he saw a Maserati drive through automatic gates before roaring away.
“Very upscale,” Sam agreed. He studied the manicured lawns and the three-storied Craftsman houses.
“Hey, someone’s home,” Dean said, pointing at a sprawling Cape Cod. “That’s it.”
An athletic young man was shooting hoop on the driveway, clearly enjoying himself in spite of the fact he missed most of his shots. He noticed their approach and walked towards them with a wide-open grin. “Can I help you?”
Sam flashed his FBI badge. “I’m looking for Thomas Inoue?”
“The FBI?” the young man said, eyes widening in alarm.
“It’s about an incident that took place in Nevin.”
“Sorry, name’s Jason. Thomas Inoue is my grandfather,” Jason said and shook their hands. “He’s out back, in the garden. When the weather’s nice you can always find him there.”
Sam managed to school his face into one of appreciation, not shock. Dean was right. Jesus Christ!
As soon as they reached the back of the house Jason hollered, “Grandpa! You got visitors!”
A short, elfish-like figure stood up slowly from behind a row of bushes. “Oh, who?”
Sam saw the similarities immediately. Even though sixty years had passed Thomas was startlingly youthful. Sam suspected the ex-soldier's athletic leanings didn’t fade away with age.
“We’re here about Montgomery Catskill,” Dean said gently.
Thomas turned to his grandson and murmured, "This is private."
"I'll be shooting," Jason said before disappearing.
Thomas waited until his grandson was completely out of sight before saying, “Monty died years ago."
“Yes, he did,” Sam replied. “We found out what happened in 1945, sir. Mr. Catskill told us.”
Thomas shook his head and pulled off his hat. “What? I don't understand. And I never filed charges. I let him go. I set him free.”
"Set him free?" Sam echoed in confusion.
Dean closed his eyes and shook his head. “Jesus Christ. There was no other guy, was there? You lied to protect him.”
The sunlight seemed to actually dim as Sam understood the sacrifice Thomas had made for his beloved.
“He thought we could make it, but I knew better,” Thomas said weakly. “I saw what was happening across the country, and even though I was a decorated war hero, I knew those signs saying ‘Japs Go Home’, ‘Japs Not Wanted Here’ were for me, too. Monty would’ve been crucified for our friendship, and I couldn’t stand by and watch Nevin destroy him.”
“What happened that night?” Dean asked.
“I woke as soon as the water hit me. The knot was so lose I got free quickly. Then I made it to shore without being noticed. I even managed to hitchhike to Port Orchard to get some medical help from a doctor I knew.” Thomas took a deep breath. “I stayed in Port Orchard for a week in case Monty got into trouble but he never did. That's not so surprising since I took a Greyhound to Tacoma and thumbed my way to Nevin. Nobody in town knew I came home.
“Afterwards, I went to Hawaii, got a job, got married to a nice girl, divorced the nice girl three years later because I couldn’t be that big a bastard. Naomi was a sweetheart and she deserved a better man than me. But we had two children and they were more than enough for me to make a life for myself.”
“Does your family know?” Sam asked.
“No, not a clue,” Thomas answered with a sad smile. “They look at me and see a dying old man, not the handsome young sapling I was. I think it would horrify them to see me as a sexual creature; much less a gay man.”
Sam couldn’t help but smile. “All children think that. It’s a coping mechanism.”
Thomas responded with a smile both bright and crafty. “And we should be grateful for that, as parents that is.” He examined Dean and Sam. “You’re not FBI, are you?”
“No, sir, we’re not,” Dean answered. “We tracked you down because we have a big problem: actually Joshua and Joanie Catskill do.”
“Monty’s grandchildren? What has happened?”
“Sir, we believe Monty’s ghost is creating the havoc on the Tacoma Narrows Bridge.”
“The accidents?” Thomas frowned. “I’ve read about some ghost being responsible but I didn’t believe it. Are you telling me it’s Monty?”
“Yes,” Sam said. “And he’s been haunting the Sakura grove, also.”
“Well, shit,” Thomas whispered.
“You don’t seem surprised,” Dean supplied. “Right about now most people would be running away while calling the cops.”
“I’ve seen things I can never talk about,” Thomas explained. “Hell, I’ve done things I can never talk about.
“So Monty’s grandchildren are in danger?”
“Them and anybody who crosses the bridge. It’s a right mess over there,” Dean said. “And we need your help to put it right.”
“I see,” Thomas said. “Let me pack my overnight bag. I have to leave a note for my son so he doesn’t call the police. It shouldn’t take longer than fifteen minutes. I learned to pack lightly during my Army days and it never wore off.”
“Thank you,” Sam said earnestly. “We had completely run out of options by the time we got to you.”
“It’s not for you I’m doing this,” Thomas said bluntly. “It’s for Monty and his family.”
“Of course,” Dean said.
Thomas hobbled down the stony path and into the house. Dean and Sam marched to the front where Jason stood waiting for them.
“I heard you talk about Nevin,” Jason said. “Is he going back to that hellhole?”
“He has to,” Dean replied.
“Why?” Jason argued. “That place treated him like a rabid dog.”
“It’s for a friend of his,” Sam said.
“He doesn't have a friend there," Jason said hotly. "Grandpa doesn’t know but dad did some investigating about his past. It wasn’t long before he found out about what had happened to him in Nevin and the Catskill bitch who screwed him over.”
“He has the right to put things to rest,” Sam countered.
Jason tried to look annoyed but failed. Fear crept into his face. “I don't want him to go back. His health ... he's so fragile." Jason viciously bounced the ball against a garage door. "He's pretty amazing guy, you know? He has the gift of being grateful.”
“Grateful for what?” Dean asked.
“Just being grateful,” Jason answered. “Grateful to walk up and down the stairs at his age, grateful for being able to eat good food and have the presence of mind to appreciate it.
“I was embarrassed at first: thought it was the whole ‘Bowing Asian’ thing, but it isn’t. He really is grateful, and happy. I wish I had that.”
“That is a rare gift,” Sam agreed. “I wish I had it too.”
“I also know about Grandpa liking men,” Jason said. “He thinks we don’t pay attention because he’s old, but we’re not stupid. And it doesn’t matter to us. It never did.”
Thomas came out the front door, lugging a well-used army surplus backpack. Jason smiled. “That’s my grandpa. I swear: if given half the chance he’d enlist again.”
Dean smiled and Sam basked in it. It was rare but when Dean was genuinely happy his grin was both free and beautiful.
“I’m ready,” Thomas said. He turned to Jason and patted his shoulder. “I’ll be back soon. Can’t have your father pissing kittens because I took a day off without his permission.”
Jason cackled merrily before giving his granddad a hug. But Dean noticed that he watched with worry as Thomas walked away, and couldn’t help but feel just as concerned since neither he nor Sam knew how Catskill’s spirit was going to react to the fact that Thomas, the man he thought he’d murdered, was still alive.
Under the Tacoma Narrows Bridge
Thomas handed over a metal flask. “I thought we might need this.”
Dean gave a nod of gratitude before taking a sip. He passed it to Sam who also took a chug. Thomas tucked it back into his bag and looked out at the calm, black waters.
“It doesn’t look the same,” Thomas said after carefully examining his surroundings.
“Probably all the lights,” Dean explained. “Lot more houses on both shores.”
Thomas nodded. “That and the bridges. Damn, these things are ugly. Convenient? Yes, but a complete eyesore.
“What do you want me to do if Monty comes?”
“Tell him the truth. Let him find some peace.” Sam looked at Thomas with questioning eyes. “Can you do that? Forgive him?”
“I betrayed him first, Sam. You have to remember that. So, the question becomes can he forgive me?”
“No time to discuss that because here he comes!” Dean shouted, pointing at the green flare diving into the water.
“My God, it’s all true,” Thomas said.
Sam looked up at the bridge and saw flashlights trailing the spectral light. “Shit, we’ve got company. We're going to have to hurry.”
Catskill's ghost hovered above the water just like he’d done before. Thomas leaned forward and croaked, “Monty, it’s me!”
The ghost’s head snapped towards them.
“Monty,” Thomas whispered. “What did you do to yourself?”
The ghost floated so close that Thomas reached out, only to have his hands brush through the shimmering form. The inability to touch his lover finally broke Thomas. He sobbed out, “You have to stop all this. Jesus Christ…”
Castkill’s face shifted from one of confusion to joy. He even tried to take Thomas' hands into his but failed.
“You have to go home. You have to because I’m going to be right behind you. And I’ve been waiting for us to be together for so long … please, Monty.
“I’m so tired, love. So damn tired.” Even though he’d failed before, Tommy tried once more to hold the man he'd abandoned over sixty years ago.
This time Catskill responded, and though they still couldn’t touch their hands were hovering right next to each other.
Sam saw flashing lights of a police cruiser approaching their boat. “We really don’t have any time left.”
Thomas sat back on his boat and watched with tearful eyes as the glowing form began to flicker. “Good night. For now.”
“We’re so out of here,” Dean said as he turned on the outboard engine.
Sam placed comforting hands on Inoue's shoulders as the man wept without a sound. He looked at Dean and saw something he rarely witnessed: Dean’s eyes were wet with unshed tears as he watched the old soldier grieve for a sacrifice of years that brought about so much pain.
Dean guided the boat to a private dock they ‘loaned’ from its absent owner. Sam made sure the boat tied securely before helping Dean lift Thomas out of the equally 'loaned' boat.
“Let’s get out of here,” Dean said after he hustled Inoue into the backseat of the Impala. “The poor guy’s got enough on his plate. The last thing he needs is to deal with cops.”
Sam nodded in agreement. “Where to?”
“Back to Joshua’s place,” Dean answered. “Let’s see if everything’s settled down.”
Dean drove back to Nevin at breakneck speed. Sam would’ve said something but he knew why Dean was in a hurry. Even though they tried to convince Joshua to get out, he returned home because somewhere in the middle of his terror, he’d found rage. And bathing in the glorious shower of righteous anger, Joshua stormed back into his house and refused to leave. Dean and Sam were too strapped for time and had to leave him as sunset was fast approaching.
Joshua was waiting in the front steps along with his dogs who were acting more like lap cats starving for affection. “Is it over?” he asked.
“I hope so,” Dean answered.
Thomas looked up and physically recoiled as if attacked. Dean had forgotten how similar Joshua was to his grandfather in his looks.
“Joshua, this is Thomas Inoue,” Dean introduced the poor man.
“Oh shit,” Joshua stood up. “I’m sorry. I thought because what … Jesus, come in. Please.”
Joshua led them to the kitchen where the coffee was percolating. And - from the smell - pizza warming in the oven.
“Sit down,” Joshua said. “Let me get you some…”
Joanie came rushing in. “You’ve got to see this.”
“What?” Joshua asked, immediately turning pale at the expectation of more bad news.
“The grove,” Joanie explained, grinning from ear to ear. “It’s dying.”
Dean gave a nod to Sam, asking his brother to follow Joanie and Joshua while he stayed with Inoue. Sam needed no further encouragement, but he still had to run at his fastest pace to keep up with the Catskills. However, he came to a full stop when he saw the grove.
The trees weren't just dying: they were falling apart. Branches were snapping off even as he watched and some were actually crumbling as if they were being riddled by .50-caliber bullets.
“It’s over?” Joanie asked him as she watched the destruction.
“It’s over,” Sam answered. “Mr. Inoue got through to him. He made your grandfather remember.”
Joshua burst into tears. “He forgave granddad?”
“Yes, he did,” Sam said. “Forgave everything because he was still in love with your grandfather.”
Joanie embraced her brother with what little strength she had left. The two held each other up as their nightmare died around them. Sam decided to watch them instead because that was where the future lay. Not with the dying trees.
Dean was still munching on the homemade blueberry muffins as he merged the Impala onto SR16. Sam warily watched the various sixteen-wheelers dodge around their car and wondered why Dean would risk his baby in such a manner.
“I know what I’m doing,” Dean said, sensing his brother’s anxiety.
“I didn't say anything,” Sam shot back. He looked at Dean and added, “I was thinking.”
“Okay, want me to pull over?”
“No.” Sam had to say the next words carefully. “I think Tommy Inoue got it right.”
“Had what right?”
“To be grateful for what he had: to not look back,” Sam said. “Maybe he had the right idea, and we should do the same.”
The sunny smile on Dean's face was appreciably warped by his muffin-stuffed cheeks. “I was actually thinking the same thing.”
“We stopped the Apocalypse, got the Prince of Hell back into his cage,” Sam began rambling. “So, maybe, we should be grateful for that. We don’t need to remember because…”
“What are we expecting? A medal?” Dean jumped in. “We should be on our knees thanking God … or … somebody that we got out alive. And together.”
Sam nodded enthusiastically. “Yeah, so, now what?”
“Dude, how about a case? It's about time we got back into the swing of things. Without angels or demons beating at our door.”
“Poltergeist or something more interesting?”
Dean grinned. “Only in our fucked up world do we have a menu of supernatural critters to kill.”
“There’s a talk about missing sailors off the coast of Oregon,” Sam offered. “I’m guessing siren or maybe even a púca.”
“Siren?” Dean looked positively hopeful.
“Sirens aren’t actually beautiful women, Dean,” Sam said, still grinning. “They’ve got claws and fangs and usually like to munch on the men they seduce.”
“But they’re topless.”
Sam had nothing to respond to that so he just leaned back and enjoyed the sun and the cool breeze that roared past him as Dean cranked up Iron Maiden and pushed the Impala to her limit.
The End
Part IV
Author's Notes:
This story took a while to finish but hey, I made it! Of course, at this juncture it's been kripke'd so hard it's AU.
The treatment of Japanese American soldiers after WWII has been a great source of tragedy for American history, and one that can never be corrected. However, their sacrifices have been recognized over the years and now the few who are still alive can proudly recollect their contributions to anyone willing to listen without fear of reprisals.
The title is based on a famous song made even more popular by Benny Goodman during the last days of WWII. This version by Ella Fitzgerald is my personal favorite. And though the song is upbeat, I think the lyrics reflect Montgomery Catskill's mindset during the years he waited for Tommy to return to him.
Unfortunately, there is no soundtrack to show my thanks for taking the time to read It's Only A Paper Moon. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this case!fic.