Be There With Me
Tag to They Things They Carried
For Lindsey who wanted Sam to find Henry's fedora, for reasons…
"I just want to keep doing what we do as long as I can. And I'd like you to be there with me." Dean's words reverberated in Sam's brain as he continued well past the early hours of the morning to search new websites, new lore, any reference to the mark of Cain. He knew Dean didn't want him to. He knew Dean really just wanted to hunt to feel normal, or at least as close as normal got for the Winchesters. But Sam wasn't ready to let it go. Wasn't ready to accept the fate his brother seemed to have that it was just inevitable the day would come that Dean would, like Cain, relapse into a monster that had to be killed .So despite Dean's directive to stop looking, Sam still sat at the map room table searching, one website pulled up on his laptop, another on his tablet and a third on his phone. It seemed strange to him that he was the one obsessed with saving his brother. All those years of Dean making sure Sam was safe. Not that he doubted for one second that was still true. He knew if Dean sensed he was in danger, he'd save him, no hesitation. For Sam it oddly comforted him the he himself now felt that way about Dean. It had taken the worst case scenario, Dean's death in his arms, Dean becoming a demon for Sam to fully realize how important his brother was to him. Even when the hell hounds ripped Dean apart and he was in Hell Sam though devastated had not felt the great emotional attachment to his brother. He was sure he'd loved Dean just as much back then but he was older now, so much had happened and the weight of his own part in Dean's acquiring the mark in the first place had solidified his commitment to the one constant in Sam Winchester's life. He had learned while his brother was gone that there was never going to be anyone more important than Dean, that no matter who else he loved he would never love anyone as much as Dean. They were two parts of a whole, his big brother and himself and Sam meant to keep it that way. No matter what. Sam shook these thoughts away and returned to combing the research in front of him. He glanced at his watch. Three in the morning. He began reading a long article written by a well known Old Testament scholar.
Dean opened his eyes and wondered what time it was. It seemed quiet to him and he didn't like it. Too much quiet led to too much thinking and too much thinking tended lately to thoughts he'd rather not have. If given too much time to think he recalled Cain's words to him in the barn and he didn't want to hear the you will kill your brother speech over and over. H e sat up and scrubbed a hand down his face, feeling two days worth of stubble but he didn't care. His eyes fell on Dad's journal where he'd tossed it the day before. He reached for the well worn leather book and ran his hands over it. It had always been an important book but in recent weeks, Dean had come to treasure it more, to wish the man who wrote was here with him even more than he'd ever wished it after Dad had died. It seemed to Dean when it was Sam in trouble he could cope better. When it was him, he couldn't be a lifeline for himself. Couldn't focus on finding a way out. Dean had learned the hard way in Hell and Purgatory sometimes there was no way out but through. This didn't make it any easier and for several days now, ever since he'd killed Cain, Dean wanted Dad. He would never have admitted this to anyone, not even Sam. It would show weakness he didn't feel ready to share. Admitting he was scared to Sam had been weakness enough. Collapsing into his brother after giving Cas the blade had been weakness enough. And Sammy , bless him, had been awesome. His little brother had been a rock but still Dean wanted Dad. Mom he could remember as a small child. Her memory was precious and Dean treasured it. Dad, hard and rough around the edges as he was was Dad. There were things he wished John had done different. There were the days when despite his best efforts to please him, he knew he failed to live up to the expectation his father had set for him. Despite the tough love , the drinking, the fact that he spent most of his growing up years being a parent himself to Sam, Dean Winchester loved, respected and emulated his father with all that he had.
He caressed the cover of the journal and flipped it open. He ran his hand over Henry's initials stamped in gold at the bottom left corner. He breathed in the ink and paper scent, the pages that made him feel close to John. His finger caught at the flap of leather above HW. How many times had he read this book and never noticed there was something tucked inside? He reached in and slid it out. A packing label addressed to Henry Winchester 1799 Campbell Way Normal , Illinois .Dean knew the journal had come to his grandmother and Dad after Henry had come to the future to save them and died. He smiled at the street address. Campbell. The irony wasn't lost on him. He stood for a few minutes and an idea came into his head. He knew what he needed. Sam was taking a break today. Dean was planning a road trip.
"But where are we going?" Sam asked for the fiftieth time since they'd left the bunker. Dean continued to smile, wink, turn up the radio anytime his brother asked. "Dean? Is this a case, or have you finally completely lost your mind?" He'd been almost ready to concede a need for sleep when Dean had charged into the map room coffee in hand demanding Sam shower, change and meet him at the car in half an hour. No protests that he'd been up all night won out. In the end Sam simply did as he was ordered. He had dozed in the first few hours of the mysterious ride but now the sun was shining brightly and he was feeling hungry. "Man, where are we? Aren't you hungry?"
Dean turned to grace him with a little smile. Sam smiled back. It was nice to see the lighter side of Dean. Dean pointed at the billboard ahead of them that proclaimed Jack's Diner served breakfast all day and had the world's best pie. "Just about to stop Sammy." He pulled into the parking lot which was crowded at nine a.m. providing the hope to Sam that it was a good place to eat and not just another one of the greasy spoons his brother had spent years stopping at. "Supposed to be good. Read about it on the internet", Dean said as he pulled the keys from the ignition.
"You read about Jack's Diner in ...where the hell are we? on the internet? What is this all about Dean?" Sam asked. As they opened the doors and exited the car, the hint of spring sun felt good on his face and he found himself wanting to just spend the day with Dean doing nothing that had anything to do with anything in the least supernatural.
"Hey, I know how to research too college boy", Dean said affectionately. He reached over and briefly placed his arm around Sam's shoulders, squeezed and let him go. Sam turned to face him.
"Who are you and what have you done with my brother?", he asked but he smiled and his tone was full of fun. He had no idea what Dean was up to but he decided to enjoy it, realizing if it was a case Dean would have shared intel.
"Right now, I'm up to breakfast little brother. The rest is a surprise." He grinned and pulled off his sunglasses , stuffing them into his jacket pocket as they entered the diner. Sam just stared at his brother and followed him in. Surprises were not a Dean like quality. It made him excited, confused and maybe a little apprehensive but he had to admit the place smelled heavenly and he was very hungry.
Two orders of blueberry pancakes with hash browns covered in cheese and sides of bacon later, Sam still had no clue where they were headed but had enjoyed a trip down memory lane with Dean over many breakfasts spent with Dad on the road. The waitress refilled their cups and left the check as Dean chuckled over a particularly funny memory of John. "Aww, good times Sammy. I think we've spent half our lives in diners don't you?"
"At least. Listen Dean. This is great and I appreciate the chance to just sit and talk but isn't it about time you tell me what's up? We're a good what? Seven hours from home and you haven't given me a clue. You alright?" Sam felt deep down Dean wasn't pretending, that he wasn't putting up a front but he was still damn curious and Dean wasn't telling him anything.
Dean looked surprised at the concern in Sam's voice. Of course he would be wondering in the reverse. He pulled cash from his wallet, leaving a good tip and drained his coffee. As he stood up, motioning for Sam to go first, he smiled again. Sam felt blessed to have seen his brother smile so much and to hear him laugh so much over breakfast was something to cherish. "I'm good Sam. It's nothing bad. Just go along with me okay?" I'd like you to be there with me.The look in Dean's eyes, the request to just trust him was almost painful to Sam. He smiled back.
"Okay Dean. I give in. You're the boss." Dean chuckled as they headed out into the sunshine again.
"Just what I like to hear Sammy." He led the way back to the Impala. Sam grinned and shook his head behind his brother's back. Clearly Dean was pretty proud of whatever this pilgrimage was. So Sam would go along with it, be there with him. Dean deserved a little fun, a day off. Hell he did too. The sun was shining, he and Dean were together and nothing bad was happening. He slid into the passenger seat and settled back. Dean cranked up the radio and started singing loud and off key and just because,Sam joined in.
Dean turned down Campbell Way, pointing at the sign to Sam. The street was lined with trees and though Sam now knew they were in Normal , Illinois he wasn't sure where Dean was headed. "I found the house they were living in when Henry disappeared. This house, on Campbell Way is where Dad grew up. At least until Henry left." He pulled into the driveway. A For Sale sign stood in front of the house. Sam stared first at the house, a sprawling cozy looking yellow bungalow and then back at Dean who was getting out of the car.
"No fucking way.", he said under his breath. How had Dean found the house? Dean was standing in front of the For Sale sign talking on his phone. Sam had no idea what was about to happen but he was pretty sure Dean was getting them inside the house. He left his door open and walked over to where his brother was standing.
"Thanks so much", Dean was saying. "Sure. We'll just wait here." He ended the call and looked up at Sam. "The real estate guy's coming over with the key. I told him our dad grew up here. He said we could look around, stay as long as we want. It's empty." Sam had no words. Dean was suddenly worried. Had he upset Sam in some way by coming here? He was pretty sure there were tears in Sam's eyes."Sam?", he asked softly.
Sam blinked and smiled at him. A real Sam smile. The I -really-like -your-present- five- year- old- Sam smile. With dimples. Just like John frigging Winchester's smile. "Dude this...you are awesome man."
A red foreign car Dean despised on sight pulled up to the curb where the brothers stood. The window rolled down to reveal a well dressed thirty something guy who extended a hand. "Brian Benedict", he said. Dean shook hands with him.
"Dean Winchester. Hey man thanks for letting us kinda look around." The real estate agent smiled and handed Dean the key.
"Sure. No problem. Just drop the key back off when you're done. Take your time. Far as I know it's not being shown today. But if it is I've got your number." Dean took the key and with a wave the agent was gone, leaving the Winchesters alone.
"How did you find it?" Sam wanted to know. He was still amazed that they were here, finding a little piece of Dad's life, their own history, the place Henry had left the night he came to them.
"The address was inside the cover of Dad's journal. I figured we should just see what it looked like." Dean led the way up the brick paved walkway and inserted the key. They came in to what must have been the formal living room, wound around to the dining room, the kitchen, clearly remodeled but retaining it's fifties charm. A small hallway revealed another room lined with bookshelves that Sam imagined as Henry's office, a bedroom and bathroom and a staircase at the end. Upstairs there were two more bedrooms and a bathroom.
"Hey Dean, look at this!", Sam called from one of the bedrooms. Dean poked his head in and crossed to were Sam was standing. Carved into the windowsill were the initials J.W. "This is Dad's room." Dean felt tears sting his eyes. Here his father slept, played, kept his things. He closed his eyes, trying to picture the John in Henry's photograph. Sam's hand circled his arm just above his elbow, just above the mark. "Hey Dean, y'good?" he asked softly, squeezing his brother's arm, not letting go. Dean nodded, eyes still closed. Sam stayed where he was, holding onto Dean, worried he might have been too fragile for this, that it might have been too much. And suddenly he knew why they were here. Dean needed to feel connected to Dad. He needed to know what Henry had said to them just before he died. We're Winchesters. As long as we're alive there's hope.
Dean knew he was causing Sam anxiety and he was sorry. He truly needed to just stand here with his eyes closed. To be somewhere that was good for their father, for their grandfather. He wished things could have been different, that he and Sam would have come here to visit Henry and Milly during school holidays. He wished Sam could have had a normal life, finished college, become a lawyer, gotten married, had kids and two dogs. He wished Mom was alive and that Dad had never hunted anything but deer for sport. He wished he had never been to Hell or taken the mark of Cain. But , he told himself as he took a deep breath, Dad would have told him to suck it up. So he did. He opened his eyes. "I'm good", he said to Sam. "Think there's an attic, a basement, somewhere there might be stuff left, like in Lawrence?" It touched Sam deeply that Dean was admitting he was sentimental enough to want something from the house. They walked into the hallway and Sam pointed to a door at the end of the hall.
"Probably an attic?", he asked. He strode to the door and opened it to reveal a staircase to the third floor. They took the steps two at a time and found a large gabled attic that stored some boxes and a trunk under the far window. Sam grinned. "That was easy. Think there's a chance any of this belongs to us?" He laughed as Dean pounced on the boxes like a seven year old on Christmas gifts.
Dean pulled out a box labeled JOHN in red letters. He looked up at Sam with almost scared eyes. "Okay, here goes", he said as he pulled open the tape that had held it closed for decades. Inside they found a baseball, a glove, picture books faded but still intact. Dean pulled out the ball and was reminded how much his dad had loved baseball. The sincere wish he'd actually taken the boys to a game was one Dean would never get over. Sam pulled out a ragged well, loved stuffed dog and Dean grinned at him.
"What?" Sam asked. He guessed Dean couldn't adjust to the idea that their larger than life father had ever slept with a stuffed animal.
"You. This dog. Dad bought you one almost like this for Christmas when you were about three. You drug it around for years. Don't you remember this?" Sam remembered his own stuffed dog, a consolation prize for not being able to have a real puppy. "Who would have figured it was because he was a wuss too?" They laughed together. Sam reached in and pulled out a small clear box with a key on the bottom. He looked at his brother. Dean knew what it was before Sam wound it up. As Time Goes By. This was the music box Henry had told the boys about. Dean looked at Sam and they held the gaze. When the music ended, Dean took the music box to one side and reached for the other one. This box was marked HENRY. Inside were several suits folded neatly, white shirts, skinny ties that dated them. On the top was a black fedora in excellent, never worn condition. Dean pulled it out, picturing it on his grandfather's head. On impulse, he plopped it on his brother's head and it struck him that Sam in a fedora looked like he thought a Man Of Letters should look. Sam laughed. He closed the lid of the box. But he left the fedora on his head.
"So. Want to take this stuff back with us?" He knew Dean did even if he would never admit it. Sam picked up one carton as he stood and when Dean did he handed it to him. He retrieved the other one and they walked down the stairs without talking. After locking the house up and putting the boxes in the back seat, they wandered into the backyard. They were surprised to see a huge tree house in a sprawling oak tree. Sam said to Dean, "What are the chances Dad and Henry built this thing?"
Dean shrugged. "I think I want to think they did." Sam put an arm around his shoulders. He did too. This was a moment he had never imagined. He hoped Dean was happy and not feeling sad. Dean slipped his arm around Sam as well. "You want to climb up there?" Dean asked with a cocked eyebrow.
"Yeah. I do. I've never even been in a tree house" Sam replied. Dean looked surprised but figured it was probably true. Sam turned to Dean, dropping his arm from Dean's shoulders. "Race you!" he took off, sprinting across the yard and Dean ran faster, just a little and barely touched the tree just before Sam did.
Dean laughed. Throwing his head back and catching his breath. "Ha! I beat the sasquatch!", he said triumphantly.
Sam grinned, "Only because I let you."
"Whatever Sammy. I'm just faster. Admit it." He did let Sam climb up first and when they were both at the top, they sat there looking over the lawn and the house, feet dangling from the platform. Dean said softly, "I had a tree house. In Lawrence."
This was news to Sam. The tree house hadn't been there when they had been there. "Really? Did Dad build it?"
Dean nodded. "Yeah. It wasn't this high up. it was in a tree that was split. The house was right in the middle of the two parts, maybe four feet up. But I thought it was up in the clouds." He gave Sam a rueful little smile. That his family had done ordinary things still baffled Sam who knew nothing of that life. "Well, you hungry? I'm starving. And thirsty." He stood up and descended the ladder, followed by Sam. Both boys looked up at the tree house again and headed back to the car. As they pulled out of the driveway Dean looked once more at his father's childhood home and the Impala roared down the street.
Dinner was a burger for Dean and a salad for Sam at Brew-Ha's, a local pub. Dean drank just enough beers to make him good at hustling pool, a skill he'd honed from watching Dad. Sam sat on a bar stool watching his brother charm the other players, losing the first game on purpose, pretending to drink more of his beer. Then he got down to the serious act of winning. The others couldn't believe his "luck" as he called ball after ball,landing each one in the pocket until all of them were gone. He was so charmingly drunk, so willing to buy them all a round no one got angry at him and Sam watched and wondered how long it had been since he'd seen this Dean and it occurred to him, not once today had either of them mentioned the mark of Cain. Dean's pool buddies toasted him and he grinned at Sam, a wad of cash in his hand. Sam grinned back as Dean joined him at the bar.
"Smooth Dean", Sam said, "you've still got it." Dean ordered another beer.
"I learned from the best Sammy." No. Sam thought. Dad was good but you are better. After kicking back his drink, Dean slammed the bottle down and said, "I'm a little drunk Sam". He rested his head on his palm for a minute.
Sam, who was still wearing Henry's fedora and not drunk laughed again. "So I see. Okay big brother, let's get you home okay?" Dean was drunk enough to be silly but not enough to be sick. Sam pulled his brother to his feet, paid the bar bill and guided Dean carefully through the crowd, with a hand to his back. At the Impala, he fished the keys out of Dean's jacket pocket and said, "This time I'm driving dude."
Dean swayed slightly. "I can drive. I'm good". Sam pushed him gently towards the passenger side of the Impala. He opened the door.
"I know you're good Dean. I just want to drive alright?" Dean smiled at him again and Sam had lost count how many smiles he'd seen today. It was so rare he wanted to stop time and savor it. He waited until Dean was in and settled to close the door. As he slid into the driver's seat, his brother sighed and scrunched comfortably down in the seat.
"Hey Sam?" Dean said, in a slightly slurred voice. "We did totally normal things all day in Normal,Illinois. Imagine that." He closed his eyes, feeling sleepy as the rhythm of the road lulled him.
Sam patted Dean's arm. "Imagine that", he agreed and headed home.
It was two in the morning again. Sam had put Dean, still tipsy enough to be compliant to bed and brought in the boxes from the house. After getting himself ready for bed, he picked up Henry's fedora. Having it made him feel closer to his grandfather. He hung it on the knob of his headboard. He put Henry's box on the closet shelf. Dad's dog, so like his long ago abandoned one he placed on the dresser. He took out the music box and crossed the hall to Dean's room.
Dean lay on his stomach, face turned towards the door, his face peaceful and rested. Sam placed the music box on the nightstand and sat beside his brother on the edge of the bed. He placed his hand on the back of Dean's neck, squeezing it gently. Dad used to do that when he thought they were asleep. A quick moment of affection when he thought no one was looking. Dean had also done this to Sam as long as Sam could remember. Sam sat there watching his brother sleep. He whispered, "You have to keep fighting Dean. And I'll be there with you." Letting go of Dean's neck, he stood up. Impulsively, he dropped a quick kiss on the top of his big brother's head, something else Dad seemed to do at night from time to time, especially if they were sick or hurt. His hand reached out and he picked up the music box. He wound it up and the tinkling refrain of As Time Goes By filled the room. Henry had said the music box gave Dad courage. Henry also said Winchesters didn't give up hope. As he crossed the room to the door, Sam paused and looked at Dean again. I'm taking care of him for a change Dad, he whispered. I'll be there for him. I promise.